107 Stories of Rowaelin

7. The Valg Princess pt 4

Who is your master?

Arobynn Hamel.

Who is your master?

Arobynn Hamel.

Who is your --

"Fireheart..."

Quiet! Who is your master, Celaena Sardothien?

My name is Fireheart.

No! Let go of his hand!

Rowan's hand...

We do not speak of him.

Rowan...

Stop! Who is your master?

A-Arobynn...

Good. Do you fear him?

Y-y-ye... No. My name is Celaena Sardothien and I will not be afraid.

Quiet!

My name is Fireheart and I will not be afraid.

SILENCE!

"Aelin..." the man-- Rowan-- murmured. He clenched her hand.

My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius and I WILL NOT BE AFRAID.

     Slowly, inch by inch, her hand left Rowan's. His eyes, filled with hope and longing, brimmed with despair once more. No, she wanted to say to him. No, please, don't be sad. It was so hard. She had to fight, but it was in her. She had to fight herself. Slowly, so slowly, her hands came together. The demon inside was shouting, but she ignored it. She grasped the black Wyrdstone ring. With her last effort, she pulled it off her finger. 

     And it was gone. The Valg demon was gone. She burst into tears, from despair, strain, exhaustion. Rowan, her Rowan, her Buzzard, was crying too. She fell into his arms.

"Rowan..."

"Aelin...Aelin, Fireheart, I'm sorry, so sorry..."

"Why? Rowan, please..."

He pulled away form her so they were face to face. "I nearly killed you, Aelin." His voice went hollow. "I held my knife to your throat. Aelin...I--"

"But Rowan, you didn't. You couldn't. And then you helped me break free. Please..." Please don't be sad. We're here. Together.  And she kissed him. Kissed him fiercely. She felt him gasp against her mouth, then deepen the kiss, softening against her body. Her mouth opened, and she felt his tongue in her mouth, tangling with her own. She came up for air and nuzzled against his neck, snuggling into his arms. They held each other all night until pink streaks of rosy dawn crept into the sky.