Sword of Ice (A Throne of Glass Fanfiction)

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That night, Rowan didn't dream about Lyria.

He lay on his bed with a new sense of purpose. Bring Aelin Galathynius to Maeve and the rest would follow after. His revenge and justice and desire for glory were renewed, thanks to Maeve's guidance. He was already lost when he wreaked havoc throughout the city moments ago, utterly destroyed by what he did to his mate.

He knew she wasn't real. But it didn't make it any less hard for him to pierce that sword of ice through her chest. It would've even been harder if he did look at her, which he refused to do. He couldn't bare to meet those lifeless brown eyes.

She was gone. Truly gone. Because of the gods damned fate. Because of those wretched soldiers. Because of him.

What could've happened if he got to the cabin in time?

A living future with her.

But he wasn't about to delve deeper into thinking what could've been. It made him sick to his stomach, bile rising up to his throat. It made all his bones rattled, his lungs robbed of air to breathe, and his heart crumpled into stone. But most of all, it created a huge sinkhole in his head, pulling him down towards an unknown trench.

So he lay there, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't bring himself to give a sidelong glance to the open window seeping faint moonlight across his room. It was similar to the window in the adjoined room, where Lyria threw their son and leaped out to the river below.

He twisted restlessly, unable to shake off the vivid image. But when sleep finally came to him, he welcomed the darkness and dove straight to it.

_______________

He was standing in the middle of a clearing.

The trees towered around him, swaying to the wind as flocks of birds flew above, obscuring the cloudy sky along with the canopy. Their chirps echoed loud below where he stood, with more and more flocks passing through. Even the branches rustled in response, the whole forest seemingly speaking something he didn't know.

He scoured his surroundings, taking in the thickening mist and the gusts of wind that likely signaled an incoming storm. The forest was empty until his pointed ears shivered, now aware of the smallest buzzing. There were sounds of rattling from somewhere he couldn't place, perhaps a snake finding its meal.

Then he heard something else--a crunching sound coming from afar. He squinted, focusing his sharp gaze as he spotted a doe running a few trees behind, running not for a meal but to get to something he couldn't see.

With fae speed, he followed its trail, his wind faintly unsettling the forest as he passed lines of trees until the doe stopped to where the girl was lying on the ground.

As if it knew and wanted him to follow, the doe took a step back to look at him, tipping its head towards the girl and waited.

This time, Rowan approached her, crouching down to hold the girl's wrist to check if she was still alive.

She always was.

Her light breaths came and went, puffing because of the mist surrounding them. Her blonde hair sprawled roughly on the ground, tinged with soil and dirt from where she came from. Her white dress was still tattered, barely clinging to her.