107 Stories of Rowaelin

2: The Scream

This one is from Aelin's perspective. It's a continuation of the first one but I'm counting it as number 2 because 107 is a LOT. This one is not very fluffy. I don't know if this even counts as fanfiction; it's more of a retelling of a scene. I almost cried while writing this.

Aelin wanted to clutch Rowan's hand as tight as she could. She wanted to be his lifeline. He was fine now. She new that. She knew, with her here, that he would be. But she kept going back.

"An arrow fired by the golden-haired lieutenant shot for Aelin from the other side of the ravine. 

Aelin twisted to avoid it, only to find a second arrow from the witch already there, anticipating her maneuver. 

A wall of muscle  slammed into her, shielding her and shoving her to the stones.

And the witch's arrow went clean through Rowan's shoulder.

For a moment the world stopped.

Rowan slammed onto the temple stones, his blood spraying on the ancient rock.

Aelin's scream echoed down the ravine."

Aelin's blood ran cold as Rowan's wind in her veins at the memory. That Rowan would do that. For her. She hadn't even pushed at the blood binding them. Inside she'd been screaming for him and the others to get away. But he had almost died. For her. One inch, and he'd be dead. 

Dead.

She remembered that split-second, where the world had frozen and all she could see was Rowan, Rowan's body hitting the ground, Rowan's shoulder, an arrow  clean through it. Rowan's blood on the stones. And she had screamed. Just his name. A desperate plea for him to get up. And the split-split-second when he didn't and when she almost died herself. And then the world unfroze. And he was up. His face was full of pain, but he was running-- she didn't know how-- and telling her to run, to go. But then the ice had swept over her, slowing the world down.

The battle with Manon was a blur. The witch was good, too good. But not good enough. When the stones under their feet started cracking Aelin had run. Toward Aedion and Chaol, holding up Rowan. But then she'd heard the scream, Asterin's scream. She knew that scream. She'd heard Sam scream her name that way as she almost drowned. She'd screamed that way when Arobynn had delivered the news. She'd been screaming Chaol's name inside as she cut down the rebels who held him. She screamed Nehemia's name at Grave, as she tortured him, and screamed it inside her croon as she gutted Archer Finn.

And she'd screamed Rowan's name when he'd fallen, his blood spattering the stones. He'd have killed himself. For her. She clutched Rowan's hand tighter, as she'd promised herself that she wouldn't, as not to wake him. He bottom lip trembled, and though she bit it fiercely, one, two, three, four tears spilled out onto her cheeks. 

She wasn't surprised when she felt Rowan's hand on her face, brushing away her tears.