Rising Flames | Throne of Glass

18

They found a place before midnight. It was of decent quality - but none of them bothered to judge on cleanliness. Shelter, food and safety were all Sam and Enya wanted for Celaena.

After flicking a few gold coins to the suspicious innkeeper, Sam led the way to a small room with two beds and a small adjoining bathing room.

Just like in Skulls Bay, they inspected every nook and cranny, the floorboards, the walls and finally hung one cloak over the window, stuffing the other under the door.

Celaena slumped to the ground. She still couldn't believe it.

Rescued by Sam and the woman who claimed to be her sister.

Escaped the King.

Sailed to Wendlyn.

'We'd never see Terrasen,' she said suddenly.

No one replied.

A city of glass, of emerald-tiled roofs. To Sam, that was home.

A land of rolling dunes, of blistering heat. That was home, to Enya.

A land of pine and snow. That was the home Celaena dreamed of.

But three of them, here because they were left with no other choice...

Something snapped within her.

She didn't try to contain it. Didn't try to whisper those words to soothe herself.

Let the rage awaken within her. It cleaved through her mind, bright and sharp and lethal.

'Aelin.' Enya's voice pierced through her mind. And-

She didn't want to unleash the flames. Didn't want to set it free and let innocents suffer. If she gave in to that power, those flames, that would make her Aelin Galathynius.

'My name is not Aelin,' she said. 'You will call me Celaena.'

Just like that, the fury vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

Enya began to peel back the arms of her suit. Celaena stared - not at the ugly gash that ran down her forearm, but the black uniform she donned. That was her suit that Enya wore. Her suit. It was Celaena's. Why was she wearing it?

Sam touched her shoulder gently. 'Celaena.'

She knew she could have held it all in, hidden everything away, but Sam was here, and she couldn't help but open up. Spite and envy and rage filled her once more, this time like ice.

But she hadn't even began her outburst when Enya clicked her tongue.

It sounded like Arobynn.

Celaena felt her pulse accelerate, the killing calm a blazing fire within her. Her ears were deaf to all but a dull roaring. 'What gets you the right to march into my life all of a sudden?' Celaena hissed. 'What gives you the right to order me around? Click your gods-damned tongue at me like I'm a rutting child? What gives you the right to wear my suit that I earned?'

She felt Sam try to reach for her - and heard a sharp intake of breath as his finger met her skin - as if he'd been burnt.

But all that Enya said was, 'It's late. You should get some rest.'

She finished removing the suit, slipping on a clean shirt and trousers, and left the room.

The bubbling fury slowly cooled down enough for Celaena to realise all the mistakes said. 'Aelin,' she bit out. 'Aelin-'

'I know,' Sam said softly. 'I've known for a long time.'

'That bitch-'

'She is not a bitch, Celaena. She risked her life for you.' Sam gave a small, tired smile. 'It doesn't matter. It doesn't change my opinion about you at all.' Celaena blinked furiously. 'I love you,' Sam said.

Ever the gentleman, he jerked his chin at the bed. 'Sleep. I'll keep watch.'

She shook her head. She wanted a bath. She wanted to be back with her luxury clothes. She wanted to eat a mountain of food, eat till she could no more. She wanted Sam. Wanted him.

But instead, she crept forwards and silently dragged him onto the bed. He didn't protest. And didn't complain as she made no further move, only rested her head on his broad shoulder.

Soft breathing filled the room. 'I love you,' Celaena said to him.

'Goodnight,' Sam whispered in reply, lips grazing her ear as he laid her down on the bed.

Celaena smiled at last, for it had been too long that she had not heard any of those beautiful words.

~

She awoke to find a steaming pot of broth on the floor beside her. Sam and Enya were both awake, both silent.

Neither commented nor made a rude remark asking her why she was on the floor. 'It was more comfortable,' she replied to their unspoken question.

'Eat,' Sam said, 'then take a bath.'

So Celaena picked up the steaming bowl, not caring if it burnt her fingers; it was hot, and that was good enough.

When she finished, Sam stood. 'Do you need help washing?'

Enya rose to her feet, too. 'I'll do it.'

They stared at each other with a sort of challenge.

Celaena turned her head and spat onto the floor. 'I can do it perfectly well myself, thank you.'

'I am coming, and that's final,' Sam growled. Enya didn't back down.

Celaena made a noise that sounded similar to a frustrated snarl. 'Enya.'

Both heads snapped to Celaena, worry clouding their eyes at her distress.

Enya stepped away.

And that was final.

~

The bath felt like heaven.

Heaven, that is, till the warm water met her ravaged back. Though he'd seen more of her before, Sam had politely turned away as she'd unclothed. But when she let out a hiss, he whirled around.

And stopped dead.

'Your- your back,' he choked.

'It's a slave camp, not a massage haven,' she snapped.

Sam looked hurt. 'I never said that.'

She bit her lip. 'Come on, then, and help.'

Sam walked over, steps quick and light, and began to spoon the water onto her shoulders, rubbing at her dirt-crusted back with his fingers and knuckles till she was sure he'd scrubbed off a whole layer of skin - leaving a new, pink one behind. The sting of her still-fresh scars and wounds was inevitable, but Celaena clenched her teeth to ignore the fire that raced down each slash.

Climbing from the bath, she stood on the cold floor, letting the water run rivulets down her body. She dried off with a hopefully-clean towel, taking care to avoid drying her back completely in case of further tear or infection.

'Thank you,' she murmured to Sam. He pressed his lips to her cheek - showing her, reminding her of what other possibilities lay before them. But all she said was, 'You should wash, too,' before putting her clothes back on.

But as she walked past the mirror, she almost stumbled at the sight that greeted her. Her cheekbones were sharp and evident beneath her sunken eyes - and even though her hair was clean and had regained some of its old gleam, she looked - quite simply put - dreadful. She'd also lost that healthy glow in her skin. Her breasts were hardly larger than they had been before adolescence, stomach small, ribs visible through the thin tunic. And her limbs were so thin - almost just skin and bones.

Sam, who had just discarded his tunic, crept up behind her. When his fingers twined through hers, she stiffened. 'You look beautiful, no matter what,' he murmured, chin on her shoulder. 'Always.'

She tore her stare from the mirror, and offered him a forced, brief smile.

Unwilling to gaze at her haggard reflection any longer, she left the bathing room.

[2010XX]

how you? homework is overwhelming and i'm playing slope but i'm shit cuz my high score is 21 lmao