A Story of Fire and Darkness (A ToG and ACoTaR crossover)

Burning

Aelin POV-

Aelin could not remember what else was said. 

Everything after that was a blur of hollow words and bad memories. Shadows in the corners of the room seemed to reach out spindly fingers towards her, hoping to catch her sorrow in their grasp.

It was terrifying, the feeling of completely letting go, of completely dissociating from reality, until even one's own existence simply becomes a wisp of smoke, until life didn't seem important anymore. 

And yet it was somehow freeing. Here, in the silence, no one could ask her why. No one could laugh cruelly, or tear her skin to shreds with their knives and swords. The nothingness was safe from the world, and for that exact same reason, Aelin found herself sinking deeper into the abyss. 

But all good things must come to an end.

All too soon, the world began to filter in through her muffled senses, and Aelin found herself unsure of where she was.

She was outside, that much she knew for certain. The sharp, cold air froze her lungs, and Aelin relished the jolt that it sent through her body. She breathed in deeply, holding the air in her lungs for a few heartbeats before letting go and starting the process all over again. 

The aromatic scent of pine trees filled her senses, and somehow, it brought comfort to her foggy mind. 

"Fireheart," a voice rumbled. Aelin knew that voice. But she . . . she couldn't remember his name. A sound must've torn it's way out of her mouth, because in the next moment, the voice began murmuring softly, words of reassurance poured into her ears. 

"It's alright, Fireheart," the voice said softly, "Just let yourself breath, it's alright."

Suddenly, Aelin was overwhelmed with intense love for the voice. She could tell she was not completely back yet, but with each breath she took, she felt hands gently pull her into a strong embrace, until she was completely encased in warmth.

After minutes that felt like hours later, Aelin remembered.

"Rowan," her voice was dead, and scratchy. Hollow. 

"Yes, darling," Rowan whispered, "I'm here. It's alright." 

The world seemed so much louder after floating in silence. The silence was an embrace, a cocoon for safety from the world that roared at Aelin, demanding a price to be paid. 

Haven't I already paid enough, Aelin thought despairingly, blood dripping from her fingertips, steel flashing at her back. Haven't I bled enough for you?

The black abyss that was her mind seemed to laugh mockingly. No, no, not yet, it seemed to say, We thought you would've known better by now. We always want more. The echoing laughter made Aelin want to scream.

And almost as quickly as it came, the despair was gone, and Aelin felt a familiar rage overcome her senses. A world that had previously been shrouded with pain and sorrow now held the fiery sparks of Aelin's rage, wild and crackling. 

She didn't know that she was growling until Rowan pulled back a little to cup her cheek, forcing her to look him in the eyes. A sick sort of understanding passed through his eyes at whatever expression was on her face.

"Rhysand agreed to let us use the training ground." Aelin recognized the offer for what it was and nodded stiffly.

"Spar?" Rowan asked. Aelin shook her head-- she was afraid she wouldn't have the restraint for that. At least, not with the abyss threatening the edges of her vision.