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goddess-aelin · 1 year

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Aelin finds out she's pregnant with their 5th child

Y'all, I'm loving all these baby prompts honestly. Keep 'em coming!

Thanks for sending this in :)

What's Another One?

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none!

Another morning, another trip to the bathroom for Aelin. She hadn’t been feeling well for the past week and her normal morning routine was commonly interrupted by vomiting and sickness that made her feel like all she wanted to do was stay in bed. With four kids, it wasn’t entirely uncommon that someone in her household was sick, though with their fae heritage, these sicknesses were usually few and far between.

But Aelin seemed unable to get over this particular sickness.

She heard rather than saw her oldest, Alma, walk into the bathroom and gently take her hair. Her eldest was nearing ten years old and the girl was gods-sent. She was caring, gentle, and doting on her younger siblings and it was shown in the way she was currently mothering Aelin herself; holding back her hair while vomiting, filling a cup of water to rinse her mouth out, and then gently rubbing Aelin’s back. Aelin couldn’t help but think she’d make a fine queen someday. Hopefully far, far into the future.

Once Aelin felt like she could get a few words out, she turned to her daughter, bringing her into her side for a squeeze.

“Thank you, my sweet. You’re the best.” With a kiss to her hair, Aelin brought Alma’s head to lean on her shoulder, Aelin cuddling up to her daughter as best she could on the cold tile of the bathroom. “Wait, weren’t you with your sister?”

“Yes, but Idalia is fine, Mama. She’s in your room right now playing with her dollies.”

“Thank you for taking such good care of her while I’m sick and Papa is running the kingdom.”

Her daughter snorted, all Aelin through and through. “Papa hates running the kingdom. I’ll bet you ten gold coins that he will walk through that door grumbling about how his tunic itches.”

Aelin was already feeling better since she threw up but her daughter had a way of making her feel lighter. She loved all of her kids equally, of course. But Alma had a bit of a different relationship with her, being the oldest and the child set to inherit the kingdom. She understood that Alma sometimes felt there was a weight on her shoulders, one that Aelin knew all too well herself. Though she tried to bear most of that burden for her, she knew sometimes Alma just had to work things out herself. And of course, manifesting both fire and ice powers was no easy task for Alma to master. Even if she had two of the strongest magic wielders for parents.

Accompanying the pitter patter of tiny feet, her youngest’s screech was shrill in Aelin’s ears as she entered the bathroom.

“Mama!” The one and a half year old reached her arms toward Aelin, running as quickly as she could on semi-steady feet. If Alma was gentle and kind, Idalia was all fire and brute. She did have three older siblings to keep up with, after all. Idalia’s chubby arms wrapped around Aelin’s neck, sending them both flying backwards toward the edge of the tub.

“Woah there, little bug. Be careful.”

“Mama!” Idalia did not have volume control, which was making Aelin’s head throb at the moment. “All better, Mama?”

“Mama is still feeling a little sick. How about we go sit in the bed and read a book?” Idalia started wiggling in Aelin’s arms, desperate to climb into her parents’ giant, fluffy bed.

“Pick book, Mama. Be back.” And with that, Idalia ran her little chubby legs to her adjoining room.

Alma just laughed and helped her mother to the bed. Though Aelin wasn’t feeling incredibly nauseous any longer, she was grateful for the help due to her slight headache. A wave of dizziness passed over Aelin and she almost stumbled when she got to the bed.

“Mama! Are you ok?” Alma steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.

Aelin just placed a hand on her forehead, trying to regain her balance. “Mmhm. I’m ok, sweetie. Can you maybe just run and get Papa real quick? I know he should be done with his meeting soon.” Aelin knew Idalia would come running in any minute and quickly amended her statement. “And take Idalia with you!” Aelin winced. “And maybe Errin and Leven, too.”

Her daughter gave her a strange look before bounding out of the room.

Aelin loved her boys, Errin currently seven and Leven currently four. But she knew that they both had a penchant for getting into trouble when they were together without an adult watching them. Leven was all Rowan and even looked like her mate. He had a gentle, quiet disposition and water and ice powers that greatly outpaced Aelin’s own. But if Leven was his father, Errin was his mother, manifesting fire power at the age of three and being a terror around his siblings. While he may have chased them around, Aelin could see he loved them dearly and would never hurt them.

She decided to nap while she waited for her mate to come back, though she could tell that she was getting hungry if the grumbling in her stomach was any indication. Hmmm, she thought. She could always go for some chocolate hazelnut cake, her usual. But today she was also feeling something salty…or maybe something bitter. Maybe pickled eggs or roasted fish with a heaping of peppers on top. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t know where either of those thoughts came from. She usually was not a fan of seafood and pickled things typically turned her stomach. Interesting.

The last time she was hungry for either of those things was when….

Shit.

Was when she was pregnant with Idalia.

Aelin hung her head in her hands, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in disbelief.

And that was exactly how her mate found her a few minutes later.

“Fireheart? What’s wrong?” Not only could she see the crease in Rowan’s brow but could feel his anxiety and panic down the mating bond. “Are you alright?”

She looked past Rowan to make sure none of her kids had lingered.

“Fuck.”

Rowan’s hands came up to cup her cheeks. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You tell me.” She waited for him to catch on or scent it on her but he just continued to be concerned. “Whoever said it was hard for fae to conceive was dead fucking wrong.” She could see the moment it clicked in Rowan’s eyes. His green eyes dropped down to her stomach and quickly darted back up to her face. Though the furrow in his brow was still there, it was now tinged with disbelief.

“You’re pregnant?” Rowan’s voice was breathy, unbelieving.

Aelin nodded. “I think so.” She gestured to her stomach, “If you would be so kind as to confirm.”

He pulled her into him gently yet with enough force that she was crushed to his chest. She felt his nose brush between her shoulder and neck, breathing in her scent. He let out a harsh breath that almost sounded like a sob and just started nodding.

They both stayed like that for a while, holding each other while they processed the happy news. Did Aelin ever expect to have five kids, much less five kids within ten years? Absolutely not. Was she still overjoyed at how much love she felt? Yes. She and Rowan already had a messy, chaotic family so what was one more added to that group? Truly, it was everything she ever could have hoped for. To be here with her mate, alive and healthy, and to have this life with him, one in which they could safely raise as many kids as they wanted.

Finally, Rowan pulled back, his eyes puffy from his tears. Yet Aelin thought he never looked so handsome.

“So, my all-knowing mate, what is it going to be this time?”

“I…I actually don’t know. In that dream I had, you were still pregnant with this one. So I’m as much in the dark as you are.” Years ago, talking about that dream would’ve made Rowan sweat with anxiety. Yet now, in the safety of Orynth, and with relative peace throughout Erilea, Rowan felt as though that dream was just that: a dream. Even if he correctly guessed the genders of his children, he knew Maeve was gone. Her dark power could never lash out and hurt his family ever again.

A devious grin crossed Aelin’s face. “So you’re saying there’s a chance that I might be right and you might be wrong this time?”

Rowan chuckled. “Yes, my love. If that’s what makes you happy.” They both embraced the other again, squeezing and holding on for dear life.

A small voice spoke up from the hallway. “Mama? Papa? Are you okay?” Alma’s arms were wrapped around a dozing Idalia, who was entirely comfortable in her sister’s arms. Errin was standing next to his sister with his arms crossed, a warrior guarding his precious family. And Leven stood to Alma’s other side, holding onto her pants and looking at Aelin and Rowan with concern.

Aelin stretched her arm out to her children. “Come here, my loves.”

Rowan gently took Idalia from Alma, the girl letting out a small huff of breath before settling into her father’s arms. The other three gathered in front of Aelin, all of them looking at her with bated breath.

“How do you guys feel about having another sibling?”

It was Alma that squealed first. “I knew it! I knew you were having another baby!”

“You knew?”

Alma shrugged. “You smelled different today.”

Aelin chuckled and smiled up at Rowan. Then she looked to her boys. Leven stayed quiet but looked thoughtful. However, Aelin didn’t expect Errin’s reaction, the boy usually not emotional nor sentimental. His little hand reached out to her still flat stomach and gave it a pat.

“I hope it’s another brother.” Aelin laughed and pulled her son into her arms, still small enough that he was easy to pick up. The other two piled in and soon the hug became a family embrace, Rowan with his arms full of Idalia joining the fray.

Aelin couldn’t help but think that this was one of the best moments of her life, here with their perfect little family. And she couldn’t help but think that the new baby was going to have so many people that loved them. They would never know what it’s like to be alone, she would make sure of that.

A/N: I hope you enjoy all this fluffiness! I adore writing baby fics and I know this fandom loves reading them so enjoy :)

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#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin fluff #baby fic #my fic #my fics #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #prompts

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justreadertings · 1 year

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Hi, hello, is this Sweet Understanding? No. It is not. My deepest apologizes. However, I was inspired and wrote a baby oneshot that may turn into a couple of oneshots in this AU. Anyway, I super adore this one and only have one more scene to finish for SU so I hope that will be out soon! All my love- Magee

TW: implied miscarriage, mentions of cheating, talks of pregnancy and labor complications

WC: 2324

Eire

Aelin’s whole body ached, and yet, she’d never been happier. She’d been a mother for a whole three days now, and it was the greatest thing the gods could have given her. Her sweet Eire lay sleeping against her chest, breathing softly. Aelin made sure to settle into the pillows as best as she could without disturbing her daughter. She could watch her child sleep for hours and never bore it. Only the soft rapping at her open bedroom door took her out of it.

“Fireheart, do you need anything?”

Aelin’s heart glowed more than it ever had. Her boyfriend’s face was nearly as exhausted as she was, but he never missed a beat. He was so good to her, to their Eire.

“I’m ok,” she said. Rowan’s green eyes swept over her, as they had constantly since she’d gone into labor. “I’m ok, you buzzard, now stop worrying so much. It’s bad for the baby,” she quipped.

“Is it?” He lifted a brow.

“Ummhmm,” she hummed.

Rowan came around to her side of the bed, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll make sure to keep it in mind.”

Aelin patted the bed beside her. “Come here, come lay with me.”

Rowan obliged, instantly. She nestled into him, and a wave of contentment wafted over her. She hadn’t exactly had the easiest labor- hadn’t exactly had an easy pregnancy for that matter. Her entire body felt sore and tense. She was unfamiliar with it, if she had to admit, and the only time she felt truly at home in it was in the familiarity of her boyfriend’s arms.

“You’re so beautiful,” Rowan whispered against her forehead. “Eire gets it from you.”

Aelin smiled softly. She’d never really had a family before this, and the comfort of it had her more at peace than she’d ever been. Aelin’s eyes began to close, her breathing turning soft.

But their peace only lasted a few minutes, as a knock on the door jolted her awake. Both she and Rowan were quick to make sure their newborn wasn’t disturbed.

“What time is it?” she asked, dread filling her.

Rowan looked at the clock, and let out a sigh. Aelin knew what that meant. “It’s noon.”

Her head fell backwards. “Wyrd save me,” she whispered.

Rowan pressed a kiss to both her head and then their daughter’s before getting up to get the door. Aelin pressed a million kisses to the top of Eire’s unfairly soft head, and breathed her in.

Just a few moments later, brown hair and eyes were standing in her bedroom doorway.

“There’s my munchkin,” Sam said.

Aelin forced a painful smile. She knew this would be hard… but she’d never expected it to be this hard. The whole situation was complicated.

Rowan came into her life when they were teenagers, and they’d fallen in love instantly. They had this… soul connection. But circumstances with Aelin’s foster care never really worked in her favor, and after three years of dating she was shipped away the summer before her senior year. Rowan had promised that when they graduated, he’d go to wherever she was and they would be together.

But then he’d gotten an internship all the way in Dornelle, and Aelin could not give up the opportunity to go to college. The money she’d saved up and the constant moving meant she could only afford to go to in-state schooling. But now, seven years later, they were living together with their baby.

Well… Aelin, Rowan and Sam’s baby. Aelin had met Sam in her third year of college, and they had dated, gotten engaged, and then promptly broke up two months before Aelin found out she was pregnant. Which was right around the time Rowan Whitethorn walked into her favorite coffee shop and back into her life forever.

And he wasn’t going away this time. Aelin planned to keep him forever. She liked to say he was “baby trapped”, but he didn’t think that was too funny. Aelin knew their story was strange, that most men wouldn’t fall in love with a woman who was carrying someone else’s child. But she was Rowan’s and Rowan was her’s. Rowan told her Eire was her, and anything that was her was something he loved.

Rowan had already lost one child. He’d told Aelin that she and Eire were his second chance at happiness. That they were the family he always feared he’d never get.

But that family also, sadly, included Sam.

Sam had come to the hospital the day she was born, and had made plans to see her today. When Aelin asked when, Sam had just said he’d “stop by.” At two this morning, when Aelin was up feeding Eire, she’d received a text that Sam would “stop by” around noon. Rowan was doing a very good job of not strangling him.

Sam came over and looked down at Eire.

Aelin smiled. “Gods, isn’t she beautiful?” To his credit, Sam did agree. “You want to hold her?”

Sam nodded, and Aelin pressed another hundred kisses to her baby before passing her to Sam. When she was sure he had her, Aelin looked over to Rowan for assistance. He was by her side in an instant, and took her by the elbow to help her stand. Pain laced down her sides, down her back. All of her insides were mush, and sweat beaded on her brow.

She was finally standing, albeit leaning into Rowan slightly.

“Gods,” Sam said behind her. “You look awful.”

Both she and Rowan turned to look at the man. Aelin’s fingers dug into Rowan’s forearm. “Push a baby out of your vagina and we’ll talk.”

Rowan snorted.

“Can you help me?” she gestured to their bathroom. Aelin had actually moved her side of the bed- even though she hated it- to be closer to their on-suite. Rowan slid his arm around her, and pain again sliced through her. Her doctor said she’d have to accept that her own healing would take time. Her pregnancy had had its fair share of complications, and she’d had several surgeries in the aftermath, all while dealing with the intense fear that her child was not ok. Eire had gotten stuck on her pelvic bone during labor, and Aelin was sure that her life was flashing before her eyes when her doctor began pushing and prying to get her out.

But they were here, they were ok, they were healthy and above all else- alive. But Aelin really, really, really didn’t need to be mocked about it.

“You don’t want me to help?” Sam asked.

Aelin just kept on her way to the bathroom. Sam hadn’t exactly been thrilled about Rowan being in Aelin’s life. He’d been difficult through the whole thing, complaining that Rowan was at every event with her, that he was there for the birth, even though Aelin had invited Sam and he hadn’t shown up. Sam arrived an hour later, and met Eire when Aelin was in surgery, so neither she, nor Rowan was there to give the ok.

But Eire was Sam’s too, and she just had to accept that. Sam, however, had to accept Eire was also Rowan’s.

Once Aelin had cursed at Rowan to let her pee in peace, she could hear the men sit in uncomfortable silence on the other side of the door. Despite them now being in each other’s lives for nearly a year, they hadn’t exactly warmed up to each other. Rowan was adamant that Sam hadn’t treated her right, and wasn’t a huge fan. He only played nice because he knew how difficult life could be for both her and Eire if they outwardly hated each other.

Sam had bitched about Rowan since the day they met, claiming that Rowan was just a “rebound”. He’d actually ruined her baby shower by giving a far too detailed toast about how, despite them being broken up, the baby had to have gotten there “somehow” in front of all of her closest friends. Rowan had nearly killed him until his best friends took care of the tipsy baby-daddy so he could be there for her.

Aelin’s emotions had been so up and down then, she’d cried for hours after the party before marching over to Sam’s apartment to cuss him out. Ever since then, they’d all been very stiff around each other. Nearly everything they spoke about was baby-related. Aelin thought that was for the best.

After she was done, her body was furious that she’d done anything out of the norm, and cramps began to invade her lower half. She called out for Rowan who was there in seconds.

“Is something wrong?”

She shook her head, hands braced on the counter. “It’s like last night,” she told him.

He ran a soothing hand down her back, and of course, Eire began to cry again. Aelin hung her head for a moment, before moving back to the bedroom. She sat on the end of her bed, and gestured for Sam to give her the baby.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Aelin’s finger lightly caressed Eire’s tiny cheek. “I don’t know, I just fed her.”

“Did you do it right?”

She looked up at him to see if he was joking. He wasn’t. “Yes, Sam. I fed her right.”

He leaned back to rest against the wall. “I just didn’t know. Big guy over here made me leave when that boob expert came in.”

“The lactation consultant?” Rowan asked, and Aelin could hear the frustration in his voice.

“Whatever.”

Eire still fussed, so Aelin rocked and cooed at her, and even smelled her, but she didn’t need to be changed. After a few minutes, Aelin looked at Rowan and offered up a smile.

Her boyfriend sighed. “It’s not going to work every time,” he told her, reaching for the baby.

Aelin pursed her lips. “You’ll see.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, but, just as Aelin implied, he began to hum to their daughter. He hummed and held her right to his chest, where she settled and promptly fell back asleep.

“Hate to say I told you so, but…” Aelin mused.

“Quiet,” he warned, playfully.

Sam was watching them with narrowed eyes. Aelin turned to him. “I hate that she’s so fussy right now. I really wanted you to get a chance to be with her.”

Despite how complicated everything was, she would never deny someone as important as Eire’s father the chance to love her. Aelin knew one day, everyone Eire ever met would love her, but that should start with the people who were to raise her.

“You don’t find it weird that you took her out of my hands to give to him?”

Aelin frowned. “I don’t find anything weird about one of her parents holding her, no.”

Sam huffed. “Maybe you’re just too hormonal to see how fucked up this is, but maybe in a few days you’ll come to your senses.”

“Excuse me?” Aelin asked. “If you’re implying that I’m not doing what’s best for my child you’ve got a whole lot coming.”

Sam shook his head. “I just think that maybe you’re trying to punish me.”

Aelin narrowed her brows, and Rowan watched with careful eyes while still rocking Eire. “Trying to punish you?”

“Yeah. You, doing all this, messing with everything… I already apologized for what happened with Lysandra-”

Aelin stood- which hurt like hell, but was necessary to get her point across. “What ‘happened with Lysandra’ was that you asked her to sleep with you, and when she said no, you called her crazy and messaged her boyfriend to flip the story. And when she told me, you gaslit me and tried to make me think I made it up.” Aelin could nearly see red. “And after a fifteen hour labor, three surgeries, and two days with no sleep, do you really think this is a fight you want to start with me? Because I survived all that, and let me tell you, Sam Courtland, I can survive you too.”

Sam shook his head at her. “You know what, I’ll just be absent from our daughter's life, just like you want.”

“What I want is a cherry soda, and about six bowls of Fruit Loops. What I need is for you to look at every single invitation I’ve sent to you about our daughter’s checkups, and how included I’ve made you in all this. What I need is for you to grow up and be a father. If not, there’s the door!”

With that, Aelin sat back down on the bed, and stuck out her arms so she could hold her baby. Rowan gently placed Eire back in her arms, and all of her pent up anger melted away. Rowan pressed his lips to her head, and she was very confident that she desperately needed that.

Sam left about two minutes later with an annoyed, “call you tomorrow.”

Aelin only waved a dramatic goodbye, promising that she’d have a real talk about arguing in front of their daughter on another day.

Rowan braced his hand around her waist as they sat on the edge of their bed. “I’m proud of you, Fireheart.”

All of her fight gave out to exhaustion, and she leaned against him. “Eire is three days old and I’ve already yelled in front of her.”

Rowan shook his head. “You weren’t yelling. And besides, I’m sure she’ll want to see how fierce her mama is.”

Aelin smiled against his shoulder. “Thank you. You’re so calm.” She glanced up at him. “I might need some of that.”

“All in due time, my love.”

Aelin leaned in and Rowan bent down to place a kiss on her lips. With the puppy snores of the baby in her arms, and the soft kiss from the love of her life, Aelin knew despite the chaos and the exhaustion- her life was looking pretty great.

Yeah, how am I NOT gonna write more of them? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! mwah!!

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#Eire #rowaelin #throne of glass #tog #sjm #tog fanfiction #sjm fanfiction #rowaelin fanfiction #baby fic

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catastrophesandcures · 10 months

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|| A Heavy Name || Throne of Glass One-Shot ||

(Where: the new Heir of Terrasen struggles with cursive G’s, the eyes of people long gone, and holding up her mother’s name)

Adele, Age 8

Adele Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius wishes for a shorter name. Her hand cramps, fingers occasionally spasming, as she signs her name over and over and over, over, over…

She works to perfect her handwriting, to get accustomed to the long loops and scrolls. She’s sometimes taken to signing with a simple AAWG, but Uncle Darrow, the old badger, says princesses of Terrasen wield their powerful names.

What the sword won’t do, the name can.

Adele glares over her shoulder to the portrait of Uncle Darrow that hangs beside old king Orlon. Adele shakes her practice sheet at Uncle Darrow’s stern, always watching picture as if to say, See? I’m not cutting corners!

Adele peaks at Orlon, then. For some reason, she’s always afraid to fully look the painting in the eye. Beside him, Grandfather Rhoe. Then, Grandmother Evalin. She looks like Mama, but younger. She has the same eyes as Mama, maybe softer, less…wild. Adele looks away from Grandmother Evalin too, not able to think about Mama not having a mama. She stops looking at what she calls the Big Pictures–faces of the dead–and moves her gaze to the smaller frames along the hearth’s shelf, to the pocket sized portrait of her younger brother, Arryn. He’d just cut his own hair, and the golden strands spiked in different directions. Adele giggles. He looks awful, and the squiggle of a mustache she’d drawn over his lip has yet to be noticed.

Uncle Darrow seems to frown down at her, then. She can hear him telling her to get back to work. Adele rolls her green eyes, but practices and practices until her handwriting is perfect. She must be perfect. Not just a princess of Terrasen, but Heir of Aelin Firebringer. Heir of so many people. There are so many eyes, waiting and watching.

Adele messes up her G, again. She always messes up the G of Galathynius. She starts a new line, from her first name, and goes and goes, her little hand straining to hold the quill, straining to make it to the end.

She loops the G in the wrong direction.

“Rutting G!”

Adele likes to curse when she’s alone, and she spits the word Uncle Aedion taught her again and again. Her chest heaves and she pants, tearing the paper in half, shredding it to pieces, and splits them until she holds confetti.

Until she holds burning paper in too small hands. Ashes fall between her fingers, her palms unable to keep all that she holds, all that she burns.

She doesn’t often cry. Adele is a princess, Heir of Fire–she is strong.

But, she weeps. The blooming flame in her hands rutting scares her. She can’t put it out. She shakes her hands. She blows, but her breath is shallow and shaking.

Adele screams. Screams at her hands, at the fire, at the G’s she turned to ash and stomped beneath her feet. Her handheld fire blooms and grows. “Rutting stop!” Adele screams at her open, unburnt palms.

And then cool, soft but calloused hands, close over hers. Water meets her fire until there’s no more smoke, but steam. They are the most familiar hands in the world. Scarred and calloused; nimble, long fingers prone to playing a haughty tune on the pianoforte. Cool to the touch. Patient. They keep holding Adele’s, hers sweaty and clammy.

Adele doesn’t look up. Her chin dips to her chest as tears roll down her face, her nose.

Fingers catch her tears–cool, calloused, familiar. “Why do you cry, Fireheart?”

Adele sobs at the name. Exhausted, head splitting, she relinquishes to her mother’s embrace and nestles into the space between chin and breast. The safest place in the world, as if Mama’s body had been carved to fit Adele’s.

“Because,” Adele hiccups, “I’m not perfect.” Another hitch of uneven breath, then, “And it makes me feel lost.”

Mama grips Adele, tight and warm. She smells like the embers of a home’s hearth, like jasmine and wind. Adele presses her nose to her mother’s skin, clinging to the comfort.

When Mama pulls away just slightly, just enough so that their eyes meet, Adele looks away. Mama has none of it. Her palm cups Adele’s cheek, bringing them face to face. Turquoise and gold meet pine green. Soft meets sorrow. Mother sees daughter.

“Perfect,” Mama’s warm, fiery tone says, “can go to rutting hell.”

A knowing gleam shines in Mama’s eyes, perking the corner of mouth. Adele laughs nervously, but Mama laughs with her, hands still holding Adele’s flaming face from the crying. And the magic.

Mama’s finger tilts Adele’s chin up again, and this time Adele really looks at her. She wonders if she looks like her, or if Adele takes more after her father. Her cousins tease her that she’s too serious. A courtier from Mellisande had once pinched her cheeks and told her to smile more. Has anyone ever dared pinch the cheeks of Aelin Ashryver Galathynius? Adele holds the ends of her mother’s long, gold hair in a fist and wonders if she’ll wear that queenly, beautiful face one day. If she’ll carry grace and mischief as well as Aelin of the Wildfire. Adele knows the stories–well, just some. Just the ones from the shelves she could reach. Which, Adele knows, are the least interesting shelves in the Library of Orynth. She’ll have to start climbing to the higher, dustier shelves where the real stories are waiting for her. There’s a book up high that has Mama’s name on the spine. It ripples with red and gold and blue, as if a living flame wraps the pages. Another book beside it, The Walking Dead, doesn’t sound nearly as interesting as the one about her own mother.

Mama raises her brows slightly and looks down her lashes at Adele–a look she knows means to listen, and listen good. She’s the prettiest lady in the whole wide world.

“If I cared about being perfect,” Mama says softly, and a moment passes where her eyes cloud, as if she’d gone very far away. Adele doesn’t know what to call that look, that distance in her mother’s eyes, but she feels it. “I wouldn’t be me. And I,” her mother quirks a conspirator’s brow at Adele, the light in her eyes shining once more, “am rutting wonderful.”

Adele laughs again.

Her mother leans down to wiggle their noses together. “You are wonderful, my girl. No matter what you do, to whatever end, I will be the voice that never lets you forget it. I want nothing from you, Fireheart, other than to be completely yourself.”

“What if I’m not like you?”

Mama props Adele onto her feet so that she stands. Mama kneels before her, and Adele wonders if anyone in the world has ever seen Aelin on her knees. Adele knows she’s just a child, that there are things she doesn’t know, but she cannot imagine it–her mother, the strongest, most powerful person to ever exist, who Adele worships like a god–on her knees. But, Mama does kneel. Now, before Adele. Though she only meets the top of her mother’s head, Adele wonders if she’ll ever stand as tall as her.

“Then I’ll be glad for it.” Mama’s eyes flash and she almost looks like an animal from Oakwald with the intensity seeping through her, like fire taken skin. “Be yourself. Let yourself discover who that is. You do not belong in my shadow, Fireheart. You are the torch I carry.”

Mama catches a rogue tear, and something ripples across the surface of her face. Adele has only ever seen her mother cry at the birth of her brothers and baby sister, but she almost does now. Her eyes, the same as Grandmother Evalin and Arryn’s, mist.

“I was your age when…” Mama trails off, distant again, lost in thought as her gaze roams every inch of Adele, as if memorizing her, as if remembering something.

A breeze passes through the study though no windows are open. It smells like winter and Yulemas, and Adele instantly perks. She feels joy in her chest, a spark of belonging and home. Mama’s eyes flutter in that same joy Adele must be feeling.

Mama continues, having found the strength she needs, and says, “I was your age when a lot of people made me feel like I was wretched and horrible. The world hated me for a long, long time.” Mama smirks. “Someone always will.”

Adele balks at the idea of anyone even remotely disliking her mother, but Mama nods as if to say it’s the truth. “Let no one ever, ever make you feel that way. Not even me. No, you’re not perfect. You are my daughter.” Mama combs her fingers through Adele’s hair. “Which means, you’re bound to be misunderstood, to make mistakes. You are my daughter, which means, you’re bound to always get up again.”

They lean their brows together, and Mama whispers, just for Adele, “You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me.” Then, louder, “And you can tell your nosy, nursemaid father I said that.”

A deep chuckle sounds from the far ends of the study. Another winter wind that reminds Adele of all her favorite memories drifts to them. It combs through her hair, and Adele can feel Papa’s phantom hands, bigger than her head, bigger than any problem or tear.

Mama squeaks, jolting as if something had pinched her, and laughs as she throws a glare towards where Papa still lingers in the dark somewhere.

Before they get up to join him, her mother pulls her into one more tight embrace. Her arms are solid and muscled, and they hold Adele like precious jewels.

Mama whispers, “We carry a heavy name. Bear it however the rutt you want.” She leans back, eyes shining. “Now, let’s discuss your copious use of curse words.”

Adele shrieks, running away.

#lil one shot I had stuck in my head #mom!aelin #sneaky taylor Swift lyrics if you squint #throne of glass #throne of glass fic #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowaelin #rowaelin babies #heirs of terrasen #tog #tog fic #next gen tog #next gen throne of glass

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sassyhobbits · 2 years

Text

Bloodsworn babysitter

my first fic in so long!! cant explain it, but writing has been difficult for me recently. still, i hope everyone likes this cute lil post-cannon fic. just a lil something to make ya smile.

enjoy!

~~~

Fenrys Moonbeam, the handsomest bloodsworn of the Queen of Terrasen (according to himself), was presented with a blessed afternoon of freedom.

The previous week had been rather busy. They had a new wave of guards to train, which wasn't a job Fenrys took lightly. He wanted to make sure every being who took up arms for Terrasen would perform when it came down to it. He wouldn’t stand for a moment of weakness, of foolish mistakes. Back in Doranelle, Fenrys had never been known as a hardass when it came to training.

But things were different now. He was critical, would snap at the recruits from time to time when they were messing around. Still, when Rowan came to train, he was always a bigger bastard. Apparently, being happily mated and married hadn't been able to change that about him.

Between training, patrolling, and completing whatever tasks Aelin asked of him, he hadn’t had a minute to himself. Not that his king and queen had fared any better. The five year anniversary of the defeat of Erawan was approaching, and Terrasen would be hosting a ball in celebration. They had been busy planning the infinite details.

He had seen little of his friends recently with all that needed to be done. Today was no exception. Aelin had been complaining about the day filled with meetings for the last week. Fenrys knew she and her consort would be occupied until the evening.

However, the newest member of Terrasen’s royal family was completely free.

Aelin and Rowan’s daughter, Eliora, had been on this earth for eleven months now. She was the perfect mix of her parents. She had Rowan’s silvery hair and frown, and Aelin’s Ashryver eyes and bright smile. From the moment Fenrys first saw the little princess, he knew he would forever protect her as he vowed to protect her mother. He was also on a mission to secure his spot as Eliora’s favorite uncle.

He knocked politely on the door to Eliora’s nursery: a room that connected to Aelin and Rowan’s suite. A soft, femine voice told him to enter. And enter he did.

Eliora’s nursery was warm and comforting. There was a crib nestled against the wall, a rocking chair tucked snugly in the corner, and a blanket sprawled on the ground covered with some of the princess’ favorite toys. There was a beautiful tapestry of the Lord of the North hanging on the wall, watching over the room diligently.

Eliora’s nurse who watched her when the queen and king were occupied was a sweet, middle-aged woman whose deep brown hair was just beginning to be streaked with silver. She had Eliora in her arms, flashing Fenrys a large grin as he strolled into the nursery.

“Good afternoon, Lord Moonbeam,” she greeted. “The little princess just woke up from her nap.”

Said little princess cooed and smiled a wide, gummy smile when she laid eyes on Fenrys.

“She looks well-rested,” he said, reaching his arms out.

“I believe she is,” the nurse answered, smiling at the babe before passing her to him. “And quite happy to see you it would seem.”

Eliora put her little hands on Fenrys' face as a form of greeting. He chuckled and smiled down at her, murmuring, "It's good to see you too, little light." He turned to the nurse, tucking the babe close on his hip, a movement he had seen Aelin make countless times. "I'll take her for the rest of the day, if that's alright with you."

It wasn't uncommon for Fenrys to watch the little princess when Aelin and Rowan were occupied. Everyone in the palace knew that their king and queen trusted him with their daughter.

"Are you sure, my lord?" the nurse asked. "The queen and king won't be done until this evening."

"More than sure," Fenrys said. "I have the whole day planned for us."

The nurse laughed softly and nodded. "Very well then, Lord Moonbeam." She reached out, tickling Eliora’s sides. "I suppose I'll be seeing you tomorrow, princess."

Fenrys said farewell and the kind nurse swept out, leaving him alone with Eliora. He looked at the little princess, brows high and a wide smile on his face. "You ready for some fun?"

Eliora grinned back, showing off her few teeth in a manner that told him that she was more than ready.

~~~

Fenrys remembered the months leading up to Eliora’s birth. And how tense it was.

It had started out with cheers and smiles and congratulations when they learned that Aelin was with child. Rowan, obviously, quickly took his "territorial Fae nonsense", as Aelin liked to call it, to a new level. He was on edge the entire time, attached to his wife's side as if his life depended on it.

During that time, Fenrys had gotten quite good at learning new ways to push his buttons. He could push the king to the edge, but never far enough to lead to getting his ass kicked all the way across Orynth. Only enough to make him snarl in a manner that he and Aelin giggled at later.

Fenrys knew that as the months of Aelin’s pregnancy went on, as her stomach grew and her feet got sore, Rowan’s constant presence and hovering began to get to her. Yet, they both knew where the king’s nerves about the pregnancy stemmed from. He had already lost one mate and unborn babe. So, Aelin endured it.

Though, it only got worse as they got closer to when the birth would happen. Aelin’s mother had almost passed into the Otherworld giving birth to her. Though he had tried to play it off, even Fenrys was nervous.

But, Yrene had traveled to Orynth. Which meant that Aelin was in the best hands on the continent.

When Eliora had decided it was time to come out, Fenrys had sworn the entire kingdom came to a standstill. Aelin and Rowan went into their suite along with Yrene and the best healers in Terrasen. Though part of Fenrys wanted to be there beside the queen he served, he knew it was not his place. Instead, he had waited outside the door, pacing and nervous.

He flinched at every scream and cry of pain that echoed from the other side of the door, bringing back unfortunate memories of their time deep beneath the palace of Doranelle. Another time when he heard her screaming and there was nothing he could do about it.

But, he wasn’t alone in his stressing. Aedion, Lysandra, Elide and Lorcan were outside the royal suites beside him. Aedion paced the entire time, likely wearing a track on the stone floor. Lysandra was less destructive in her worries, attempting to keep their son, who had just turned three, distracted. Elide was trying to be the voice of reason, and though Lorcan wouldn't admit it, Fenrys had known he worried for the queen too.

But, after what felt like an eternity, Aelin’s screams ended, and a new one began. It was small and shrill, but Fenrys could hear the strength behind it. They all looked at one another, smiles breaking out on all their faces when they heard Yrene declare behind the door, “It’s a girl!”

A girl. The new heir of Terrasen was a princess.

It was still another hour of waiting patiently outside their door, listening to the new babe’s cries slowly fade away, soft voices murmuring to one another too quietly for even Fenrys’ sensitive ears couldn’t make out. And then…

They all stood as the door opened, revealing Rowan. His silver hair, which had grown a bit longer since the war, was in disarray. But… his eyes were bright. And there was a smile the likes of which Fenrys had never seen gracing his face.

“Would you all like to meet her?”

They all filed slowly into the suite. The healers were cleaning up, Yrene sitting on the edge of the bed, speaking with the queen herself.

Aelin was practically glowing in the late morning sun that filtered through the windows. Her face was bright with a grin that took up nearly the entirety of it, long golden hair loose and falling down the back of her white nightgown. And in her arms, no more than a bundle of soft pink blankets, was the new princess.

Aelin looked to her court, her smile somehow growing even wider. Rowan sat down beside his wife, looking down at their daughter. The look of utter devotion on his face was something Fenrys would never forget.

“Hello, everyone,” Aelin greeted. She sat up straighter, angling the bundle of blankets in her arms towards them. “Allow me to introduce our daughter, Eliora Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius. Crown princess of Terrasen.”

It was then that Fenrys got his first look at Eliora. He never had much experience with babes, especially since Fae children were so rare. He knew they were small, but not that small. The child in his queen’s arms looked so… fragile. It was hard to believe that Aelin and Rowan, two of the mightiest warriors he had ever seen in his days, could make something so tiny. Her skin was still pink, the smallest puff of silvery-blonde hair on her head. Her eyes were screwed shut. It wouldn’t be a few more days before they learned that she had inherited Ashryver eyes.

Aedion and Lysandra’s son was the first to meet the new princess. Then, his parents. Elide and Lorcan went next, and then finally, Fenrys said hello.

“She’s beautiful,” Fenrys had said to the new parents.

“As if I could make anyone who wasn’t,” replied Aelin, without a lick of humility. As per usual. She looked up at him. “Would you like to hold her?”

Fenrys blinked in surprise. “Me?”

Aelin snorted. “Yes, you. You saved my life, Fenrys. I wouldn’t be here without you… and neither would Eliora.”

Despite himself, Fenrys’ gaze snapped to Rowan. The king consort merely smiled and nodded his head. A mighty gesture, after all that he had been through. To show that he trusted Fenrys to hold his newborn.

And so Fenrys allowed Aelin to place the babe in his arms, listening to Yrene as she instructed on the best way to hold her. Somehow, it made her seem even smaller.

Fenrys felt the change in the room in that moment, as they all looked at the next generation of Terrasen. A bright light born from such darkness. Fitting, given her name. Coming from the Old Language, translating roughly to light. Perfect.

Though no words or vows were uttered in that moment, Fenrys knew they all looked upon Eliora and thought about all the hurt and suffering they had endured in their lives, and knew they would do everything in their power to ensure that their children would never face anything of the sort.

Never.

~~~

Fenrys started off their day with a stroll through the Oakwald. In mid-spring, the forest was a sight to be seen. The grasses were soft, the wildflowers blooming. Kingsflame had been growing across the country since Aelin took the throne, their lovely red petals dotting the land. The springs and ponds were just warm enough to swim in if desired, though Fenrys felt as though he would never quite get used to how chilly the waters were in Terrasen. Even during the warmer months.

They started with sitting in the grass. The princess crawled around a small clearing, grabbing at flowers and little stones. Fenrys made sure she didn’t put any of them into her mouth.

She pointed and cooed at the little folk that lingered at the edge on the clearing, who even went as far to whittle tiny animal figures for the princess. Fenrys collected a wooden stag, hawk, and wolf by the end of the day, all which had delighted the little princess. Fenrys sensed the little folk would dote on Eliora as they doted on Aelin.

Then, Fenrys scooped the princess up and they came upon a little warren of rabbits. Eliora observed them with her wide, Ashryver eyes, enchanted by their fluffy, white bodies.

They ended their time in the Oakwald with Fenrys holding Eliora above a little brooke, dipping her toes in the cool water and listening to her peals of jolly laughter echo through the forest. He always thought she looked like Aelin when she laughed. But when Eliora was upset… that was all Rowan.

He brought the princess back to the palace just as the sun began its descent below the Staghorns. He ensured there was no dirt on the princess, knowing he would never hear the end of it if Aelin found any later on, before allowing her to play with some of her favored toys. Upon the mantle, Fenrys placed the new gifts from the Little Folk besides some of the others that had accumulated over this past year: a wooden wyvern, fox, and horse alongside a bouquet of wildflowers the faeries managed to enchant to never wilt.

When Eliora grew bored of her toys, Fenrys scooped her up and sat down in the rocking chair beside her crib. There, he read from one of her picture books. And when that tale ended, began telling some of his own. He didn’t know how much the little princess truly comprehended as he recounted stories about his past, about mischief he and Connall had gotten up to in their childhoods, about adventures he had and amazing things he had seen on his travels. He told Eliora stories about Rowan, about his intellect and bravery and loyalty. He spoke about Aelin and her cunning, daring plans.

“You have pretty good parents, you know,” Fenrys muttered to Eliora, who appeared to be growing steadily sleepier, wide eyes struggling to stay open. “Some of the most amazing people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

In answer, Eliora released a mighty yawn.

Fenrys laughed lowly, rocking them back and forth before beginning to hum a half-forgotten lullaby from his youth. It was only a moment after that Eliora finally gave in to drowsiness, slipping into a sweet slumber. And, despite himself, Fenrys soon followed.

~~~

“How long do you think I can soak in my tub before it becomes a problem?”

“I can’t say I have an answer for that, Fireheart.”

Aelin frowned. “Part of me wants to lay in there all night but I don’t want to look like a prune by morning.”

Rowan smiled fondly at his wife. “Then maybe an hour in the bath. Just to be safe.”

“Will you at least rub my feet afterwards? It’s been such a long day.”

"We were sitting down almost all day."

She frowned. "So?"

With a heavy yet loving sigh, Rowan draped his arm over his mate’s shoulders, tugging her close to his side and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “If that is what you want, it will be done.”

He sensed rather than saw the grin that spread across her face as they came upon the door of their suite. They both had missed their daughter greatly during their busy day, unused to spending this much time away from her.

They strode into their rooms and instantly made their way towards the connected nursery. Even before they entered, they scented the air and knew that Fenrys had relieved Eliora’s nurse of her duties earlier that day. Still, the night air was quiet, which suggested that the little princess had already fallen asleep.

“Do you think we should just promote him into Eliora’s governess?” Rowan asked only half-teasingly.

“As much as he would enjoy that, I like Fenrys in his current position in the court.”

They turned the corner, crossing the threshold into the nursery, and the scene inside.

Fenrys was in the rocking chair besides Eliora’s crib, the babe sound asleep in his arms while he read. Aelin instantly recognized the cover as her own current read, meaning that her friend had nabbed it off her bedside table for himself.

Fenrys looked up as the queen and king entered, holding the book aloft. “Rowan, have you seen the kind of filth your wife reads?”

Rowan crossed his arms over his chest. “I have, and also happen to know she would be very upset if you lost her page.”

The Wolf of Doranelle glanced at his queen in mock-offense, placing the book over his heart. “I would never lose your page, Aelin. But I am further along than you. Just wait until chapter 32. It gets very interesting.”

“I look forward to it,” Aelin said, striding across the room and taking her book back, double-checking that her page was marked before snapping it shut.

“I was reading that!” Fenrys objected.

“You can borrow it when I’m finished.”

It was then that Eliora released a tiny noise, the adults freezing in fear that they had awoken her. But, the little princess only seemed to make herself more comfortable, still snoozing peacefully. Nearly in unison, they all breathed signs of relief.

Rowan strode forward, bending down and taking Eliora in his arms. There was nothing Aelin loved more than the sight of their daughter in his arms. She couldn't stop herself from pressing a soft kiss on Eliora silky hair, breathing in her scent.

"Thanks for taking such good care of her today, Fen," Aelin said, sending her friend a thankful smile. "I have half a mind to promote you to full-time babysitter."

"It's no trouble, as always. We were having a grand time." He flashed a lazy grin. "Besides, I want to make sure my position of favorite uncle is secured."

Aelin laughed while Rowan subtly rolled his eyes, carrying their father towards the crib and gently laying her down. "I think you've already done that." She paused, narrowing her eyes seriously at Fenrys. "If you tell Aedion I said that, I'll have you mucking out the stables for the next fifteen years."

Fenrys held his hands up in surrender. "I'll take your admission to the grave… but I won't forget it."

They lapsed into silence, watching the little princess as she snoozed peacefully. It was wonderful to know the Eliora lived in a world of peace and contentment, that the shadows that had befallen them would never touch a hair on her little silver head.

"So," Fenrys said at length. "When are you two having another!"

"Eliora’s not even a year!" Rowan grumbled. "I think we can wait a bit longer."

Aelin smiled down at her daughter. "But not too much longer, I don't think. I want as many of these as I can get."

"Well, if you have a boy," the White Wolf began. "I've heard Fenrys is a very popular name."

#rowaelin #my writing #baby fic #lots of #fenrys #fenrys moonbeam #post cannon

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rowaelinsdaughter · 5 months

Text

what happens in the forest stays in the forest

this is one of my favorite fics ive written so far, but i needed to write something fluff and with rowaelin. i miss them so much.

WARNINGS; none, pure fluff

you were bored

bored and tired.

since you found out you were pregnant 5 months ago, rowan and aelin didn't leave your side for a second, so you couldn't go out on the street if you weren't with them and they didn't trust the guards and fenrys couldn't be near you without that rowan growled at him.

you were in your room waiting for them to finish a meeting, but you were tired of waiting so you decided to go find them.

carefully, you go down the stairs and reach the door where the meeting is taking place and gently knock on the door, you place a hand on your belly as if you wanted to protect the baby from the people inside. the door opens and rowan appears. instinctively, a smile appears on your lips and rowan hugs you carefully, leaving a soft kiss on your hair while one of his hands rests on top of yours.

"what are you doing here? you were supposed to be in the room.”

“and like you said yourself, i was,” you joke. “but i was bored and i wanted to get out of here and spend time with you.”

you hear the sound of a chair dragging on the floor and immediately aelin appears, leaving a kiss on your lips. “come sit down you-”

“you can stand for a long time” you imitate her.

aelin sits you in her chair and the people who were there stand there not knowing what to do until…

“everyone out”

“but your majesty, you cannot do this”

“i can and i want to. now everyone out."

one by one they leave the room under aelin's gaze, promising a slow death to anyone who says otherwise or looks at you wrong. once everyone has left, aelin kneels in front of you, at the height of your belly, and rowan sits next to you.

aelin's hands caress your belly and as always she speaks softly to her. "hi little girl. i hope you are not giving mom too much trouble and let her rest.”

your hand strokes her hair gently and she gets up to sit at the table.

“i thought i heard that you were bored and wanted to spend time with us”

you sigh. “i've been stuck here for too long, i've already read all the books we have, i want to get out of the castle” you look at the two of them “why don't we go for a walk in the forest?”

there is silence and you wait for them to say yes, mentally crossing your fingers. rowan breaks the silence. “okay but we have to be here before it gets dark.”

you smile widely and rowan chuckles softly as aelin helps you up.

________

oakwald was undoubtedly your favorite place. you love the smell of wildflowers, the shade of the trees refreshes the atmosphere and the animals run back and forth.

after much insistence and many comments about why you shouldn't go barefoot, you finally convinced them to take off your shoes (which were also destroying your feet).

barefoot and holding onto their arms, you breathe deeply, letting your senses calm down.

you reach a clearing with a small waterfall and sit down to rest with rowan and aelin on either side.

“you don't have to stay with me, you know? why don’t you go take a bath?”

“i don't think it's-”

“yes, that's a good idea, come on, i'm not going to move from here.”

at the end, you watch as they take off their clothes and aelin runs to jump into the water while laughing. with rowan close to the shore, aelin takes the opportunity to grab his arm and pull him into the water with her. you notice the joy and love coming through the bond and you couldn't be happier for them and for the life you are creating together.

you feel a presence behind you and you turn to see what or who is behind you. a white shadow passes through the bushes. you are curious and carefully get up and follow a trail of white flowers from where you were sitting to an ancient tree. and in front of it, the lord of the north in all his splendor.

your breath stops and the lord of the north approaches with slow steps until he is in front of you. being careful not to hit you with the antlers,he caress your belly with his nose. you raise your hand slowly so as not to scare him and pet his soft fur. he turns away from you and looks into your eyes, tilting his head. respect. for you and your baby. the lord of the north looks behind you and you turn to see rowan and aelin, fully clothed. a silver line decorates rowan's green eyes, while tears run down aelin's cheeks.

with a final nod to them, the lord of the north walks away into the trees. you feel arms surround your belly and aelin leaves small kisses on your neck, tickling you. rowan stands in front of you and caresses your cheeks with his hands to kiss you softly.

“don't leave again without saying anything”

you roll your eyes “it was too good to be true”

tagging; @danikamariewrites @throneofsapphics @thehighladywrites @shadowdaddies @vanserrasswife

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danikamariewrites · 9 months

Note

hi!!! i'm new to your account, and the fics that i have read seem wonderful to me. i have a request. if you do not mind, could you write rowaelin x reader???? maybe something fluff and smut, i don't know, whatever you like 💗💗💗 no hurry <3

Dating Rowaelin headcanons

Rowaelin x reader

A/n: welcome to my blog anon, I’m so happy you like my fics that means a lot to me! I hope you don’t mind I did hc

Warnings: some smutty thoughts 18+ only pls

When they first approached you about a relationship you were a little nervous

You wanted to be with them but you were afraid of what others would say. Though no one would dare challenge THE power couple of Terrasen

Once you say yes, you realize it was the best decision

Aelin and Rowan love hard

So when it comes to you, or each other, they’ll do anything

Their nicknames for you are love, baby, flame, princess, and angel

You and Aelin share a love of candy and books so in your free time you pig out and talk about your favorite books

You and Rowan love being outdoors so he usually takes you for a stroll through the gardens or out in the woods

One-on-one time is important to the three of you since you all usually have sporadic schedules

When you get time together it's sacred

All of their attention is on you, no work and no distractions

Aelin is surprisingly cuddly and she likes it when you sleep in the middle so she can spoon you

Rowan likes sleeping in the middle so he can have both of you lay on his chest

He likes having you both close at all times since he's very protective. Ever since everything with Maeve he’s hated being away from Aelin and you

They’re terrified that you’ll be taken from them or leave

You reassure them all the time you aren’t going anywhere, “Listen to me, the both of you. I love you too much to just leave you. You can’t get rid of me even if you tried. And as for someone hurting me, I know you would tear the world apart to get me back. And you wouldn’t let anyone get close enough for that matter.”

Rowan would pull you to his chest and whisper, “Exactly little flame.” Aelin would stroke your hair and say, “We love you, so much.”

NSFW from here down

They are both givers

They make sure your pleasure comes first

You love being between Aelin’s legs. Her moans are so sweet and hearing her say please drives you wild

Usually Rowan was the dominant one when it came to sex

But there was one night where you and Aelin had schemed to take the reins from Rowan

He had been overworking himself and you both decided he needed to relax

When he got back to your shared room you two pounced on him immediately

Pushing him on the bed you both climbed on top of him

At first he didn’t know what was happening, “I’m confused but I’m also very aroused right now. What’s happening?”

You and Aelin had matching feral grins as you told him he needed was to relax and that tonight was all about him

#throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass x reader #throne of glass smut #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass headcanons #aelin ashryver galathynius #queen aelin #aelin galathynius #aelin throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #rowan whitethorn galathynius #aelin whitethorn #rowaelin #Rowaelin x reader #Rowaelin x you

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shyvioletcat · 8 months

Text

Rowaelin Month 2023

Here's my masterlist for Rowaelin Month! So excited to share these works with you.

~~~~~

September 1: Song Fic - Oakwald Street

September 2: Accidents Happen - The Sweetest Promise Part 1

September 4: "Friends don't do this" - Set Up Part 6

September 8: Single Parents - Fish are Friends Part 2

September 9: Renaissance Fair - It Takes Two

September 10: Co-host/Guest Star with Chemistry - Dressing Room Drama Part 2

September 11: Getting arrested / Trip to police station - Broken Dreams

September 12: Meet Cute / Meet Ugly - The Sweetest Promise Part 2

September 13: Babies / Kids / Next Gen - Striking Matches

September 15: Meeting the Parents - The Sweetest Promise Part 3

September 18: Aelin and Hawk Rowan - A Race

September 19: Telling their kids about their tattoos - Stories

September 23: Domestic Fluff - What is it like to fly?

September 26: Taking care of the littles solo - How’s One To Know?

September 27: Person A is touch starved but didn't know how to reach out to Person B - The Sweetest Promise Part 4

September 29: Firsts (date/kiss/time/child/etc) - I Wish You Would Part 3

September 30: A Missing or Alternate Scene from Canon - Bite Me

#titles and days may be subject to change #but these are my plans this far

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leiawritesstories · 7 months

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To Honor And Cherish

Rowaelin Month, Day 25: Arranged Marriage

A/N: Hi everyone! If you remember As I Am, it was a Regency AU crossover fic that I started when i was still very much a baby writer. Lol I'm still a developing writer, who are we kidding? Anyway, that fic has a very special place in my heart, but it was...just too much, too complex to properly handle. So.......I did a little mini rewrite with just Rowaelin! because I loved their story and it was an excuse to rewatch Bridgerton S1 😂

All that to say, here's a little mini Rowaelin rewrite of AIA, and i hope you enjoy :))

Word count: 4,670 (oops)

Warnings: none ;)

@rowaelinscourt

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Numb, Aelin stared out the carriage window, firmly refusing to look across the small but opulent vehicle and meet the gazes of her parents--her mother, teary-eyed with wistful pleasure; her father, proud of his accomplishment in achieving the best marriage match of the Season. The lace trim along the neckline of her simple, pale blue morning gown itched at her collarbone, and she focused on the slight discomfort, using it to control her roiling emotions. Before she was fully calm, though, the carriage rattled to a stop, and she realized with a small jolt that they had arrived.

"Aelin, darling." Baroness Evalin Ashryver reached across the carriage and touched her daughter's gloved hand. "Shall we?"

"Haste to the wedding, as it were," Aelin returned, dryly.

Evalin frowned. "It is as if I taught you nothing of decorum." She took her husband's arm and stepped elegantly out of the carriage. "We have but three hours, darling."

"I am highly aware of that fact, m'lady," Aelin muttered under her breath, accepting the footman's assistance as she exited the carriage. As she followed her parents into the west entrance of St. Paul's Cathedral, she spared one final glance at her family's carriage, knowing that it may well be the last time she rode in it.

Baron Rhoe Galathynius allowed his wife to lead the way towards the bridal rooms and fell into step beside his daughter. "The Duke is a good man, Fireheart," he murmured. "I promise, I have never been careless with your future."

A small corner of Aelin's heart softened. "I trust you, Father." She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. "I simply feel...well, to be perfectly honest, I feel disregarded by this whole process. I know the conventions of our society, but I thought we were going to be more of a partnership when it came to my marriage." She couldn't help the hint of reproach that crept into her words.

"That was my intention, too," Rhoe admitted. "However, your mother is...a very determined woman, and when she came to me with her shortlist of suitors, it was not in my best interest to reject it outright."

"I see."

"I did my best to investigate each of the men on that list," Rhoe continued. "As I said, I have never been careless with your future, my Fireheart."

Aelin sighed delicately and flicked a grateful look up at her father. "I know." Her posture stiffened, just a fraction, as they approached the door to the bride's preparation rooms. "I quite liked Dorian, you know."

Rhoe's lips twitched with amusement. "I doubt he would have made much as a husband, though."

That brought a hint of a chuckle from Aelin's throat. "I never said I was considering him as a husband, though he certainly did make a clever suggestion: a nominal marriage, in which we were perfectly happy together with our own, ah, partners."

"Ah, Havilliard," Rhoe chuckled. "Dare I say he may not have made the most ideal husband? He'll certainly be a fine honorary uncle, though, I'm sure."

"He will." Aelin squeezed her father's hand. "Oh gods, the door approaches."

"It will be alright," her father assured her. "And if it is not, write to me and I will take care of it." The steel in his eyes drove home his promise.

"I love you, Father," Aelin whispered, rising onto her toes to peck a soft kiss onto his cheek.

Rhoe smiled. "I love you too, my Fireheart." He held the bride's door open. "I'll see you in a few hours."

Aelin took a controlled breath and walked through the door. The instant the thick oak door clicked shut behind her, Evalin was leading her off down the short hallway into a lovely, sunlit room, where a flurry of attendants swarmed around the women already gathered there, busy curling and arranging hair, applying cosmetics, steaming and fluffing dresses, and assuring every lady present that it was going to be a perfectly lovely wedding day.

"I feel as though I may vomit," Aelin murmured.

Evalin waved at one of the maids. "Please bring a basin; the bride has nerves." She patted Aelin's shoulder with a brief, perfunctory attempt at comfort. "It is perfectly normal to feel anxious before your wedding, darling. I could hardly stop trembling on the morning that I married your father."

Aelin cracked a faint smile. "Why, Mother, I thought you were always the very picture of composure."

"Hardly." For a moment, Evalin's rarely-seen softer side made an appearance. "I believe I'd only met Rhoe three or four times before we were married, and we were little more then formal acquaintances when our parents signed the betrothal agreement."

"That's three or four times more than I've met the Duke," Aelin mused.

"I trust your father's judgment." Evalin's tone was noticeably cooler. "You will make a fine Duchess, darling."

Aelin didn't reply, choosing to focus on the sudden flurry of attendants encircling her, helping her out of her dress and into simple undergarments and a white satin dressing gown. She let them lead her to a chair, sat down, and watched in the mirror as her lady's maid twisted her hair into an elegant knot.

"No, no!" Evalin snapped at the maid. "She is a bride! She must wear her hair up higher for the veil!"

"Leave it, Philippa." Aelin held up her hand. Evalin frowned in disapproval, opening her mouth to overrule Aelin's wishes, but Aelin calmly folded her hands in her lap and fixed her gaze onto her mother's in the mirror. "I am the bride, Mother, not you." Steel and flame underlaid her words, a subtle but strong note of command.

Disapproval and shock bloomed over Evalin's feature, but she said nothing.

"Very well, milady," Philippa said quietly. The young, dark-haired lady's maid--only a few years older than Aelin was--tucked the last two pins into Aelin's hair and flicked her mistress a tiny but immensely proud smile. "What do you think?"

"It is perfect." Aelin gave her lady's maid and longtime companion a grateful smile. "Mother, would you please oversee my cosmetics? You know how little experience I have with all of that."

Placated, Evalin directed Philippa to apply simple makeup to Aelin's face, enhancing her clear skin and soft lips and concealing the faint shadows beneath her eyes. Though she was only twenty-one, Aelin had long since struggled with poor sleep, and it manifested in the circles smudged under her eyes.

"There," Evalin announced. "Lovely." She touched Aelin's shoulder. "Has your stomach settled, darling? It is time for the dress."

"My stomach will survive," Aelin returned. She stood and followed her mother into the next room, where she removed her dressing gown and allowed Philippa and two other attendants to busy themselves with arranging her undergarments.

"Deep breath, milady," Philippa prompted. Obediently, Aelin inhaled deeply and held the breath, keeping her face carefully blank as Philippa tugged with practiced ease on the laces of Aelin's corset. "Very good, milady, just another few seconds." With a final sharp tug, she tied the laces into a neat bow. "Exhale, milady."

Aelin released her breath with careful control. The corset was as restricting and uncomfortable as always, cinched tightly around her waist and stomach, drawing her already-ladylike figure into a conventional image of a lady with an impossibly small waistline. "Well, I would prefer to breathe properly, but thank you, Philippa."

Philippa dipped her head. "All things for the beauty of the bride." She helped Aelin step up onto the small, round, raised platform in the middle of the dressing room. "Up you go, milady." She and two other attendants helped Aelin step into her wedding gown--a beautifully tailored spill of white silk that molded closely against her bodice and fell into a cascading, lace-paneled skirt with a cathedral train. Soft cap sleeves laid over her shoulders, paired with matching white silk gloves.

"Oh, my daughter," Evalin whispered, tears misting up her eyes. "You are the perfect portrait of a bride."

"Stunning, milady," Philippa murmured into Aelin's ear as she adjusted Aelin's skirts.

Aelin simply stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror, wondering where she had gone and when this porcelain-faced doll had replaced her. She felt oddly separated from her emotions, as if she had somehow stepped out of her own body and was watching it go through the motions of being a bride.

With light-handed gracefulness, Philippa tucked the two silver combs of the lace veil into Aelin's hair and gently tossed the airy spill of hand-wrought lace, allowing the two layers of material to drift naturally down Aelin's back. "Look at you," she whispered.

Aelin looked. "You truly work wonders," she said softly, the corners of her lips curling up.

Philippa smiled. "Hardly. Let's get you to the wedding, milady."

In a rushed blur, Aelin was helped into her shoes, handed a huge, almost cloyingly sweet bouquet of roses and lilies, and led down a series of winding hallways until she stood before the great wooden doors to the cathedral nave where her father was waiting.

"A vision," he murmured, pride and joy shining on his face.

Aelin managed a faint smile. "A nervous vision."

Rhoe chuckled quietly. "Not to increase your nerves, Fireheart, but everyone is ready. They are all waiting for you." He tucked her hand snugly into the crook of his elbow. "Shall we?"

A strange sense of calm descended over Aelin, and she felt her resolve return, turning her spine into composed steel. "We shall." She nodded to Philippa, who stepped forward and draped the upper layer of her veil over her face, arranging the lace so Aelin could still see. "I am ready."

With a great groaning creak and a thunderous swelling of organ music, the cathedral doors were swung open, revealing Aelin and Rhoe to an eager audience of hundreds of society's finest. Rhoe walked Aelin slowly down the aisle, his steady presence at her side keeping her sane, keeping her on her feet.

Halfway down the aisle, Aelin could finally clearly see the man standing at the altar, waiting for her. The Duke of Doranelle. Her soon-to-be husband. He was tall--taller than her father--and broad-shouldered, his perfectly tailored black suit clinging to the kind of well-muscled physique that made her think he'd served in the army. His hair was tied back in a short tail and powdered white, as was traditional, his face had the kind of elegantly structured planes and angles that would make a sculptor cry with joy, and his eyes--pine-green and piercing--were honed in on her.

He looked about as tenderhearted as a block of ice.

Refusing to be the timid, demure bride this duke no doubt expected her to be, Aelin locked her gaze onto the duke's and kept it there for the remainder of her procession down the aisle.

Rhoe stopped at the base of the four steps leading up to the altar, just in front of the waiting duke and the bishop. The bishop, in full clerical finery, opened the book in his hands and offered a polite smile.

"Dearly beloved," he began, "we are gathered here today to witness the divine institution of holy matrimony." He spoke on for another minute, then turned to Rhoe and Aelin. "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?

"I do." Rhoe spoke with conviction. He took Aelin's hand from his arm and, at the nod of the bishop, laid her gloved hand in the duke's outstretched, gloved one.

The duke's large hand closed around Aelin's, and she felt the oddest sensation flicker at the base of her spine. She cast a cool, appraising look at the duke through the lace of her veil, a spark of satisfaction flaring within her at his tiny, well-concealed inhale, and returned her attention to the bishop.

The wedding ceremony droned on and on, and Aelin let the words spill over her, not paying too much attention to anything except the way her corset dug into her ribs and the too-strong scent of the massive bouquet of flowers in her free hand. She snapped back into focus when the bishop directed her and the duke to turn towards each other for the exchange of vows.

Facing her, his deep pine gaze locked onto her turquoise one, the duke spoke first, repeating the bishop's prompted words. "I, Rowan Whitethorn, take thee, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, in sickness and health. I vow to thee to honor and cherish till death do us part. In the presence of God and man I make these vows."

The bishop nodded slightly at Aelin and murmured the words. She spoke, her voice clear and unwavering. "I, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, take thee, Rowan Whitethorn, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, in sickness and in health. I vow to thee to honor and cherish till death do us part. In the presence of God and man I make these vows."

She could almost sense the finality of the words.

The bishop motioned at one of the groomsmen, who stepped forward with a small white pillow upon which laid two gold bands. One was thicker and wider, a man's ring. The other was more delicate, crowned with a square-cut emerald. The bishop spoke words over the rings and then directed the duke--Rowan--to place the ring on Aelin's finger.

With surprising gentleness, Rowan lifted Aelin's left hand and slipped the silk glove off of her arm. Cradling her smaller hand in his large one, he looked into her eyes as if trying to read her soul and slid the ring onto her finger, the coolness of the gold quickly warming to her skin.

At the bishop's prompting, Aelin unbuttoned Rowan's glove and slipped the white cotton material off of his hand. With her still-gloved hand beneath his now-bare one, she returned his searching, probing look and slid the ring onto his callused, tan finger.

The bishop flipped a page in his book. "I hereby pronounce thee man and wife," he proclaimed. Applause rippled through the cathedral in waves, the assembled congregation clapping politely for the newly married Duke and Duchess of Doranelle. The bishop waited for the applause to quiet down, and then spoke the last few words of the ceremony. "You may kiss the bride," he concluded.

Rowan reached down and lifted the veil off Aelin's face. With the lace no longer between them, his keen gaze roved rapidly over her face as he tilted his head down and touched his lips to hers. It was barely a whisper of a kiss, more ceremonial than anything, but in those few seconds of contact, Aelin had the oddest sense that she wanted to know what a real kiss from that man felt like.

As the organ burst into joyous swells of music, Aelin laid her newly ringed hand upon Rowan's offered arm and walked beside him down the aisle and out of the cathedral. Sunlight beamed down upon the newlywed couple, and she blinked at the brightness of its glare.

There was a gentle tug on her hand. "Here," Rowan prompted, leading her down the cathedral stairs towards a waiting carriage. It was simple on the exterior, its boxy frame glossy, the doors engraved with the crest of Doranelle. A footman opened the door and placed a stepstool on the ground, and Rowan steadied Aelin as she gathered her trailing skirts over one arm and stepped up into the carriage. Inside, it was paneled in deep green silk, the seats well-cushioned and comfortable.

She sank into one seat with a suppressed groan of relief. Rowan settled into the seat opposite hers, his brows quirking with something that might resemble amusement if he possessed human emotions.

"What?" she inquired, deceptively polite. "Have you never thought that perhaps a woman grows exhausted after spending hours standing in uncomfortable shoes that pinch her toes and shift all her weight to paper-thin soles and tiny little sticks of heels?"

Rowan opened and closed his mouth several times, struggling for words. "I confess I had never thought about that, no."

"Typical." Aelin adjusted her skirts, lifted her veil over her shoulder so as not to sit on it, and fixed her attention on the city slipping past outside the window.

Across from her, Rowan shifted in his seat. Clearly, he had not anticipated that she would ignore him--typical male arrogance. It was only a few minutes before he spoke. "Aelin."

Though the sound of her name on his tongue did funny things to her heartbeat, she ignored him.

"Aelin," he tried again. She still paid him no heed.

So he turned his head towards the opposite window and set his jaw in a hard line. They passed the remainder of the carriage ride in tense silence, only exchanging looks and a perfunctory touch when they arrived at the Galathynius home in the city for the reception and Rowan escorted her out of the carriage and into the house.

The whole thing flew past in a blur of greetings, pleasantries, gifts, a delicious dinner that Aelin barely tasted because her corset made it nearly impossible to properly eat, toasts, dancing, and finally, being swept off to change into travelling clothes. She blew out a short breath of relief as Philippa helped her out of her wedding dress.

Her lady's maid laughed. "Better?"

"So much better," Aelin groaned. "Do you know how awful it is to walk around with ten yards of silk following you like a stray cat?"

"Sounds horrendous," Philippa agreed. She buttoned up the back of Aelin's simple satin travel dress and laid her lightweight cloak around her shoulders. "Enjoy your journey, milady. I will see you once you reach Doranelle."

"You are the best." Aelin squeezed Philippa's hands affectionately. "I left a little something for you in my dressing-table." Tucked into the drawer was an envelope containing a small sum of money for her ever-faithful lady's maid. "I look forward to seeing you at our new home." She smiled and went down the stairs.

Rowan waited at the base of the staircase, the lines of his face etched in granite. He had changed from his formal black wedding suit into brown trousers, vest, and jacket and a white linen shirt and washed the powder from his hair. She was mildly surprised to see that beneath the powder, his hair was light brown and slightly curled at the ends.

Evalin enveloped Aelin in her embrace. "You will make a wonderful Duchess," she murmured. "I look forward to visiting you once you've settled in." Aelin smiled and turned to her father.

Rhoe wrapped his daughter in his arms. "I'm so very proud of you, my Fireheart," he whispered. "Write me if you need anything. I'll keep your mother from invading, as much as I can."

Aelin chuckled. "Thank you, Father."

Rhoe grinned at her and turned his attention to his new son-in-law. "I will not hesitate to do anything my daughter asks of me," he said, his words edged with paternal warning. "Take care of my Fireheart, Your Grace."

"I will, sir." Rowan linked Aelin's arm with his. "Are you ready?"

"I am." With a final wave to her family, she and the duke left her family home, climbed into his carriage, and began the silent drive towards his estate in the country.

As evening deepened into night, Rowan glanced at his watch. "We should be stopping for the night in half an hour or so."

Aelin raised her brows. "At an inn?"

"No. At Mistward House." He offered no further explanation.

"Forgive me for not memorizing the details of each of your holdings before the wedding, Your Grace," she deadpanned.

His controlled expression did not even budge. "Mistward House was my mother's dowry property. Doranelle itself is another half day's journey from here."

"I see."

Shortly later, their carriage pulled to a stop in front of a brownstone manor house with ivy trailing up parts of the walls and warm golden lamplight shining from a few of the windows. It would have been wonderfully welcoming under any other circumstances, but all Aelin could think of was the very real possibility of what might happen inside that house in not very much time.

Rowan climbed out of the carriage and held out his hand, and she accepted it as she stepped down from the carriage. He escorted her inside and made a brief greeting to the few staff who were there.

"Everything is ready just as you requested, Your Grace," the middle-aged lady who must have been the housekeeper said. "It it so good to see you here again, even if only for the night."

"Thank you, Mrs. Ellys," Rowan returned, a hint of warmth in his tone. "We shall see if we visit Mistward later in the summer." He turned back to Aelin. "This way."

She followed him down the hallways, memorizing the simple path back to the front entrance as they walked. He stopped in front of a dark wooden door, paused for a few seconds, then pushed the door open and led her into a warm, softly-lit bedroom with wood-paneled walls, a large, soft-looking bed, and a small fire crackling behind the fireplace grate. In any other context, it would have looked positively homelike and comforting.

Rowan closed the door with a muted click, and Aelin suddenly realized that despite what she'd wondered, there would be no separate bedrooms, not that night.

"There is a washroom through that door," he said, pointing towards a door near the back of the room.

She nodded, took her small bag of nightclothes, and headed straight into the washroom. The door had a lock, so she locked herself in the small but sparkling clean room, braced her hands on the edge of the sink, and breathed as deeply as she could while still confined by that godsdamn corset. With almost robotic movements, she took off her cloak, dress, shoes, stockings, and undergarments, untied the laces of her corset, and carefully, painstakingly loosened the damned contraption until her lungs were free and she could throw it to the ground.

As always, the corset's boned structure had left red imprints along her sides. She frowned, chose to ignore the marks, and pulled her soft cotton nightgown over her head, letting the comfortable material settle against her skin.

After washing her face, Aelin pulled the pins from her hair and left them beside the sink. If the stone-faced duke took issue with her leaving her hairpins in the washroom, he could stuff the pins up his ass. She ran a comb through her hair, tied it back in a loose braid, and left the washroom, resolved to continue ignoring her husband for as long as possible.

Her husband, in return, barely spared her a second glance as he went into the washroom, dressed in his own nightclothes. He was in there for a short time, the splashing of water indicating that he was washing up like she had. She took the opportunity to drape her dress and cloak over the dressing screen in the corner of the room and take a slow walk around the bedroom, half expecting there to be some kind of secret entrance.

She had already climbed into the (very comfortable) bed when Rowan emerged from the washroom and methodically blew out each of the lamps in the room before climbing into the other side of the bed, his back turned to her.

Perfect. The less contact she had with the man, the better.

Aelin awoke in the middle of the night with Rowan's arm draped over her waist, his hand skimming her hipbones through the fine material of her nightgown.

Blindly, half-panicked, she jerked sharply away from him and his touch, pulled the sheet over herself, shut her eyes tight and mentally screamed at herself to breathe, gods damn it! She managed a short breath, and then another, and a deep breath, and another, and another.

As her head cleared, she opened her eyes, finding her husband awake, sitting upright a full arm's length away, his unfaltering eyes latched onto her. Concern and fear were written written all over his face.

"Aelin?" he whispered.

"I'm here," she croaked.

Worry and rage clashed in the depths of his gaze. "Who hurt you?" he breathed, primal violence simmering just beneath the controlled softness of his voice.

"Why do you care?" she whispered, defensive.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, and when he met her gaze again, muted pain joined the storm of emotions roiling in the depths of his stare. "Because my bastard of a father hurt my mother, and I swore an oath to never be anything like him."

It was the most human she'd ever seen the duke be in their few hours of knowing each other.

A tiny corner of her heart softened at the rawness of his words. "It was...an associate of my father."

Rowan pushed the sleeves of his nightshirt up, exposing his forearms. "Will you tell me who, Aelin?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I do not mean to pry, but I...if the man is still alive, I will end him."

"He is long since dead, and he was Lord Hamel," she said, simply.

"Arobynn Hamel?"

"Yes."

He exhaled slowly. "Hamel was one hell of a bastard," he whispered, roughly.

She just nodded. "I've always wondered if it makes me a horrible person for being happy that he's dead."

"It doesn't." The swiftness of Rowan's reply shocked both of them. He sighed. "It does not make you anything but justified, Aelin."

There was that infernal flutter in her guarded heart. "I might just have to admit that you're human after all."

A half grin curved his lips. "How might I prove my full humanity to you, Your Grace?" Gods burn her, the man had a sense of humor.

She shrugged indifferently, tamping down the part of herself that wanted to squeal like a little girl. "You could start with letting me get a full night's sleep." Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the fact that she was overwhelmed from the events of the last day, or maybe it was sheer insanity, but then she let a smirk curve her own lips. "Or, if you intend not to sleep, you could give your wife a kiss."

Rowan inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring with surprise. "Say that again."

"I was under the impression that you weren't the command-giving type." The snarky retort tumbled unbidden from her lips.

In a single, smooth move, he was inches away from her face, his arms braced on either side of her--enough space that she didn't feel trapped, but close enough to feel the heat of him. "And I was under the impression that you wanted a kiss, Your Grace."

A lazy grin unfurled across Aelin's face. "Kindly give your wife a kiss, Your Grace."

"Never stop calling yourself my wife," he murmured, and he kissed her. At first, it was a soft brush of his lips, then he sank one hand into her hair and deepened the kiss, slow and leisurely and unhurried.

After a long, blissful moment, she broke the kiss, leaning slightly back to catch her breath, and a huge yawn split the air between them. She laughed, softly. "Good night, Rowan."

"Good night, Aelin," he murmured. She settled back down into bed, and he tucked the covers up over her. His arm lingered around her shoulders, hesitant, hopeful. "Is this alright?"

The warmth of him was still strange, but comforting. "Yes."

She fell asleep with her duke's arm around her and the warmth of his body behind her, solid and steady and protective, nothing at all like the ice-faced man who had sworn vows to her just that morning.

will there be more? who knows... ;)

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin month 2023 #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #regency au #rowaelin regency au #to honor and cherish #100000% bridgerton and p&p inspired #gotta cite my sources lmao

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rowaelinscourt · 9 months

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Rowaelin Month: PROMPT LIST

HERE IT IS! The Rowaelin Month 2023 Prompt List! We are ecstatic to be back for a the full month of September once again!

We hope you all love these prompts as much a we do and we are so excited to see what everyone will create in honor of our beloved Fireheart and Buzzard!

We've included a handy calendar image for you all, but if for any reason the image isn't working or is hard to read, the full list will be written out below the cut.

START DATE: September 1st

Green filled boxes denote CANON SPECIFIC PROMPTS

1. Participation every day is not required. You can create a many or as few submissions for the listed prompts as you like!

2. Please remember to tag your creations with #rowaelinmonth so people following the tag can find them! And don't forget to mention @rowaelinscourt in your post do we can reblog it!

3. Please remember that all works MUST have appropriate tags and content warnings. NSFW content is required to be tagged clearly and hidden below a 'Read More cut. We want everyone to have a fun and safe time engaging with content!

4. All genres of work are welcome, but please note any major warnings at the top of the work so readers or viewers have some idea what to expect.

5. Canon Week is back (with 2 whole extra days!) to fill that canon shaped hole in our hearts! While we kindly request that Canon Week prompts remain specifically for canon scenarios, remember that any and all prompts are welcome to be interpreted as canon/a canon-inspired setting as well! With creativity and imagination, the possibilities are limitless!

6. Any kind of fanwork can be submitted for this event so long as it can be applied to the prompt! Fanfiction, fanart, headcanons, playlists or any thing else you can think of! There are no requirements and you can submit multiple works for the same prompt of your so wish.

Rowaelin Month Prompt List

September 1: Song Fic

September 2: Accidents Happen

September 3: Rowaelin as teens

September 4: "Friends don't do this"

September 5: A Bad Date

September 6: Forced Proximity

September 7: Vacation or Outdoor Adventure (ie a road trip, beach day, hiking ect)

September 8: Single Parents

September 9: Renaissance Fair

September 10: Co-host/Guest Star with Chemistry

September 11: Getting Arrested/ A Trip to the Police Station

September 12: Meet Cute / Meet Ugly

September 13: Babies / Kids / Next Gen

September 14: An Argument/ Making up After an Argument

September 15: Meeting the Parents

September 16: Mob AU

September 17: Mating Ceremony

September 18: Aelin with hawk Rowan

September 19: Telling Their Children about Their Tattoos

September 20: Drunken Antics

September 21: Scars

September 22: Magic/Shifting Lessons with the Children

September 23: Domestic Fluff

September 24: How Rowan Knew "Fireheart"

September 25: Arranged Marriage

September 26: Taking care of the littles solo

September 27: Person A is touch starved but didn't know how to reach out to Person B

September 28: Wartime Sweethearts

September 29: Firsts (date/kiss/time/child/ect)

September 30: A Missing or Alternate Scene from Canon

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinmonth2023 #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #tog

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highqueenofelfhame · 1 year

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rowaelin // 4.9k words // ciwyw masterlist // masterlist

It was golden light that roused Aelin from sleep, sneaking in through gaps in the curtains and blinds. It took her a moment to remember that it was Rowan’s bed she was curled up in, completely wrapped in his cool pine scent. She inhaled deeply, ducking her nose down into the plush duvet and savored it. Part of her wished he was laying beside her, the sunlight casting soft shadows over his face. With her eyes closed she could imagine it.

It was better that he wasn’t. She knew that. There was hurt on both sides. Words had been said that cut them both in sensitive places, and the wedge between them was starting to feel like an ocean. Yet being here, in his bed, his house, were the first steps toward reconciliation. They just had to get through the hard conversations first.

The best part about Rowan not being in bed with her was the smell of bacon, eggs, and something sweet creeping up the stairs and beneath the door. For what felt like the first time in her pregnancy, her mind and body were in agreement: she was hungry. Though she was hesitant to believe her head wouldn’t be in the toilet immediately following breakfast, she slipped out of bed and padded her way downstairs.

“How did you sleep?” He asked her, eyes roving over her head to toe before he turned back to the pan on the stove. Aelin wondered if it was because she was still in the clothes he’d given her to sleep in, or if it was some instinct of his to make sure she was in one piece. She slid onto one of the chairs at the bar, folding her arms atop it, and laid her head down.

“Like the dead.” A sleepy yawn escaped her before she could finish her response. One of these days, she really needed to take to the internet to see when, exactly, she would stop feeling so wholly exhausted all the time. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did,” he confessed, the muscles in his back rippling beneath the simple gray t-shirt he wore. “Better than I have all week, actually.”

Rowan was careful as he deposited an egg onto a plate next to a few pieces of bacon and a cinnamon roll. Aelin thanked him when he handed her the plate and a glass of orange juice. It was freshly squeezed if the notes of orange zest throughout the kitchen were any indicator, but when she lifted it to take a sip, her stomach turned violently in protest.

“It’s freshly squeezed. No additives or anything.” Two strings pulled the corners of her lips toward the floor. The confirmation that he spent gods knew how long juicing oranges until she had a full glass worth made her feel guilty for the way her body was reacting.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said as she put it back down on the bar, far enough away that her nose couldn’t smell it anymore.

“It was nothing.”

“No I mean…” She paused and took a deep breath, eyes closing at the nausea rising in the back of her throat. “Can you put that anywhere else please.”

“Shit. Fuck, Aelin, I’m so sorry.” Rowan was quick to swoop in and pour it directly down the kitchen sink, letting the water chase it down the drain.

“You didn’t know. I didn’t either until I smelled it,” she admitted, finally opening her eyes and lifting her fork.

The first bite of the cinnamon roll was heavenly. It was baked to perfection, the gooey texture nearly melting away on her tongue. It was exactly how she loved her cinnamon rolls, but couldn’t remember ever telling him that. Perhaps once in passing. The eggs were scrambled and in a neat pile of soft, pillowy clouds. None of it touched.

“Did your mom teach you to cook?”

“She did. I was hungry just about constantly growing up, especially after practice and games. It’s come in handy now that I follow such a strict meal plan.” Indeed, his plate didn’t have a cinnamon roll. Instead he had two pieces of toast, some bacon and sausage, and three eggs. When he slid into the seat beside her she noticed two bowls, one with oatmeal and the other full of fruit.

“I was underfeeding you at my house,” she murmured, sitting back and resting her hands on her stomach. The baby, apparently, didn’t want her to enjoy breakfast. She took deep, steadying breaths to keep the food down even as a sheen of sweat started to coat her skin.

“Are you sick a lot?” Concern swam in his gaze as looked her over head to toe, but she nodded her head.

“Lysandra made me go to the emergency room a few days after I found out, and—” Rowan’s head whipped around, eyes wide and full of concern. Aelin held up a hand for him to wait a moment and continued, “There are days I couldn’t keep water down. That’s what the blood test was from. They gave me some medication to help with the nausea.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Something like devastation flashed across his features, squeezing her heart like he’d squeezed those oranges.

“Because I was still freaking out about being pregnant and how I was going to tell you, and I didn’t want you to find out because I was in the hospital over it. Imagine your reaction in an ER, with nothing between us and strangers but—” Aelin was cut off by the all too familiar tell of her mouth watering, head becoming unclear and dizzy as she launched off the chair and sprinted to the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before dropping onto her knees and emptying the little contents of her stomach into the bowl.

Rowan was there, like he’d seen the color of her face drain to stark white. His hand was a steady weight on her back, moving slowly up and down her spine while he gathered up her hair in his other hand.

By the time she was through, her throat burned from the pure bile that clawed its way out of her body. Aelin’s ribs and stomach ached from the force of it all and Rowan had to help her back onto her feet, gripping her shaky hands and grounded her to earth.

“Do you want to lay back down?” he asked her, using his fingers to comb her hair up onto the top of her head. Goosebumps erupted over her body when he tugged the hair tie off her wrist and secured the bun into place.

Aelin shook her head and gestured toward the kitchen where their breakfast grew colder by the second and said, “I’m going to shower while you finish eating. And don’t object to it. I know you’re hungry. So eat.”

His eyes were wary as he appraised her. They scanned every feature from head to toe like he was cataloging every single thing about her. Deeming her well enough to manage on her own, he led her out of the bathroom and toward the stairs. Even when she protested, he followed her up and gathered towels and the small bucket of necessities that had everything she would need: body wash, shampoo, conditioner, razors, shaving gel. The little box of tampons almost made her laugh. She wouldn’t be needing those for a while.

When he finally left her alone, she stared at the bin full of everything she might need for her stay. Aelin didn’t question if it was meant for any female visitors he might have. She didn’t have to. Everything in it was smaller sizes of everything she had in her shower at home. Like he had made a list so he knew what to get.

It almost made her angry, how thoughtful it was. Simply because it made it virtually impossible to be upset with him. All of her anger toward him was gradually slipping through her fingers, just like the water she gathered in her cupped hands.

~*~

By the time she was done showering and walked back downstairs, Rowan had finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen. It was near pristine. The dirty dishes had vanished from the stove top and sink and an empty trash bag was in the garbage bin. One of his tattooed fingers was just about to mist the room with air freshener to cover the lingering scent of cinnamon and bacon when she stopped him.

“That’s overkill. I’m fine.” Her polished fingers toyed with the ends of her damp hair as he looked up at her.

Rowan’s eyes swept over her, lingering on her still flat stomach. There was nothing to see, not yet, not for several weeks, but he looked and looked like he could see the baby through her t-shirt, her skin. When he finally looked at her face again he simply nodded and put the can back under the sink.

“Come on,” Aelin said after several heartbeats of silence, her head nodding toward the living room while he pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the fridge. Once it was in her hands she glanced at the living room again. “We should talk.”

When she turned her back she heard him sigh deeply. It was strained, like he wasn’t at all looking forward to what was coming, like he dreaded it. Almost like he was scared. She wondered if his heart was racing and pounding like hers as she walked across the room and tucked herself in the corner of the sofa. A blanket is pulled over her legs with hands that have a small tremor. Aelin tucked them between her thighs to make it stop.

“At the time,” she said slowly, turning the words over in her mind before speaking them out loud, “I didn’t understand why you asked me if it was for money. But now, knowing what you actually do for a living, I understand why you felt the need to ask.”

“That isn’t what it was.” The words were clipped, his jaw clenching as he paced in front of her. Aelin watched him until he finally sat down on the edge of the couch, fingers drumming against his knees to quell his nervous energy. Confusion rose to the surface in her mind.

“Okay. Explain it to me then.”

“I— fuck. I don’t like talking about this.” The second part seemed to be said more toward himself than to her, so she waited patiently while he sifted through letters and syllables to make words.

Rowan looked over at her and chewed on his cheek. More than once, his lips parted to try to sew together his words, but closed again. Like he didn’t know how, when, or where to begin. Aelin wasn’t sure either. They both had a lot to say, had apologies to make. There was so much, though, that it was hard for her to find the words, too.

“I don’t like talking about it because I don’t… I don’t want you to think I’m making excuses about how I treated you. I’m not. But it’s the truth. Any single one of my friends, my family, they can back it up.”

“Rowan. It’s okay. Just talk to me.” The fingers in her lap ached to reach for him, twitching against her bare legs beneath the blanket. She wove them together to stay put.

“I had been sleeping with a woman for a while. Nothing serious, just casual when I had the time. She ended up getting pregnant about six months or so into it. I didn’t want the relationship to get serious. She… Lyria and I weren’t really well matched. We didn’t know each other. I found it hard to open up to her. More than that, I didn’t want to open up to her. But I was more than willing to step up where the baby was concerned.” He paused, tongue swiping over his teeth. Aelin’s heart was trying to escape her ribcage. She took a steadying breath, telling herself to listen and not draw conclusions before he finished. Still, she wondered. Did he have a kid already?

“Lyria was pushing for a relationship, to marry eventually. I was 23, still pretty early in my career, nowhere near ready for marriage. Especially not with a woman I barely knew . Every time it was brought up I shut it down. Not to break her heart,” he added with a swift glance at Aelin. “I don’t think she was ever in love with me. But because it wouldn’t have been a fruitful marriage, we would have been miserable, and I truly didn’t see the point.”

Aelin nodded in understanding, “You didn’t want to settle.”

“I didn’t want her to settle either. It wouldn’t have been fair for anyone, especially not the baby in a few years time. I didn’t want to raise a child in a loveless home. But all of that isn’t why I reacted so… fucking horribly.”

“Okay.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but loud enough to encourage him to keep going. After another steadying breath, he did.

“One night I very firmly shut it down again. I told her it wasn’t on the table. I want to make it clear that she had a good job, she had really good health insurance. But she started asking me for money. Of course I wanted to give the support she needed, so I gave. And gave. And gave. I couldn’t not give her the money. We weren’t close enough for me to know the extent of her income, and I had money I could afford to lose. Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t, but whenever I asked about it she would get cagey. Accuse me of accusing her. It was such a complicated web to unravel and the fighting was so tiring.”

Aelin was nothing more than a concrete statue, her limbs heavy at her sides. She was unable to move while he spoke, eyes focused on the frayed corner of the blanket in her lap. Every sentence was turned over in her mind carefully, knowing that the grief and frustration that marred his face and sharpened his words was absolutely true.

“One day she called me several times in a row. I didn’t answer because our flight got in really late and I was exhausted. There was no energy in my soul to argue with her about money, so I sent it to voicemail. Later she sent me a text that she miscarried and… I didn’t want the relationship with her but I was just getting used to the idea of being a dad. I have always wanted to have kids. The timing was off at the time, but I was excited about it. And then it was just… gone.”

“Rowan,” she started gently, desperate to offer him comfort of some sort. No words would be a balm to that wound, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach out and touch him. Instead of looking at her he held up a hand, silently asking her to wait. Gods, he wasn’t finished. How could it get worse?

“I found out a few weeks later through a mutual friend that she had miscarried nearly an entire month earlier. All through that month I was still sending her money for appointments, for nursery furniture, car seats…” Rowan shook his head, silver hair falling into his eyes. “We stopped talking after I told her I knew the truth. That she was using all the money I was giving her to fund her lifestyle, hardly any of it was going toward anything for the baby, and that she weaponized the miscarriage to hurt me. It was a massive fucking blow out, and we haven’t spoken since.”

All the letters and words had evacuated her brain. The weight of his eyes trailing over her face made her finally meet his gaze. All the empathy she had in her heart was swimming in the ocean blue of her eyes that gleamed with unshed tears. In his, she saw that he knew the words she couldn’t find to speak out loud.

“It makes me feel like a massive piece of shite, but sometimes I wonder if she was even pregnant at all or if the whole thing was just a way to get money from me.” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, green eyes fluttering shut as he took a moment to just breathe. Aelin wondered if he had ever voiced that confession out loud before.

“I can understand why you reacted the way that you did.” The words swept out of her mouth on a heavy exhale, hands flexing in her lap.

“But?”

“I don’t fault you for the reasons behind your actions, Rowan. But I also can’t just freely let go with what you said and how you said it. I wish that I could, but I felt like we…” Aelin trailed off, eyes shifting around the room on a scavenger hunt for words she had lost.

“Like we had something more than what I reflected in my reaction,” he finished. A hand dragged through his hair and down the back of his neck before settling over the mouth that had put him in so much trouble in the last eight days.

“I thought you trusted and respected me more.”

“I do, Aelin. I– fuck. I do. I am so sorry for what I said, how I said it, what I accused you of, that I hurt you. For all of it, I’m so fucking sorry.” Rowan’s hands flexed against his thighs like he was dying to touch her almost as much as she was dying to be touched by him. They curled into fists so tight she could see his thumb nails turning white from the pressure.

“I know,” she assured him. “I know that, I just–”

Her hands moved restlessly in front of her, trying to pull her thoughts into coherent sentences. Trying to fully express how deeply it had cut her for him to react that way was difficult. The empty space in his arms where she had fit so perfectly had started to feel like home. It was the safest she had ever felt and following this path of life had felt so entirely right. But then he opened his stupid, perfect mouth. Those words had been dripping with such a sharp edge there wasn’t a way it wouldn’t have hurt.

“I think I just need some time. I think we need to slow down. This wasn’t supposed to become anything. You know? It was just meant to be fun, but–” She cut herself off with a shrug, her fingers falling onto her flat stomach. Somewhere in there, a baby that was equal parts of her and Rowan was swimming around. Those feelings threatened to undo her if she allowed herself to feel them. Instead of letting them bubble over, she shoved a cork deep down into that bottle to avoid it just a little while longer.

Rowan’s inhale was sharp, a blade against its scabbard. A chilly silence filled the room, faint buzzing in her ears like she was on the snowboarding slopes in the Staghorns after a heavy snowfall. His fingers drummed against his thighs, eyes staring straight ahead when he finally nodded in understanding.

A relationship hadn’t been on her radar. It was why the long-distance nature of it worked out so well. With time between each visit, she wasn’t able to throw herself into his heart no matter how much she may have wanted to. Nevermind that the last time she had dived head first into something it had ended with her broken and bleeding. That relationship left scars that were still tender, still itching as they healed.

It didn’t matter how badly she was desperate to be curled up against him, feel his skin warm where they touched. How much she craved to taste his lips, to kiss the hollow of his throat and down his chest, to just feel his body splayed beneath her fingers. To know that things would be okay. There was so much more at play here than what she wanted. A little baby was caught in the crossfires, and she has to be sure that going forward their relationship was built on more than a whirlwind romance.

Instead of reaching for his hand and continuing to let herself fall for him, she carefully constructed a wall around her heart and nodded in return.

“About me lying to you about… everything,” she began, but was quickly cut off by Rowan shaking his head so rapidly it made her dizzy.

“There’s no need for you to explain that. I do not fault you for wanting to protect yourself, Aelin. I wish we had both been more honest with each other, but, no. You don’t need to explain or apologize. I understand. I did the same thing.” The tightness in her chest eased. For the first time since everything had come out, her ribs weren’t so tightly constricted when she took a steadying breath. They had both lied for similar reasons, and her secrets didn’t seem to change anything for him, at least.

Rowan’s eyes seemed dark and distant, not at all what she was used to. But the conversation at hand was one of pain and hurt. It couldn’t be easy for him to lay this all at her feet, yet he had, and now they could move forward. He would give her the space she required and after that, they would figure things out.

A kernel of hope nestled itself into her heart. Aelin just hoped she wouldn’t get hurt this time.

~*~

White noise skittered along his skin, his nerves. The stifling sound of silence filled his ears like cotton as she finally stood and began to gather her things. The minutes ticked by like hours and Rowan hated every single drawn out second of it. He just wanted her to stay despite Aelin admitting that what they had between them wasn’t supposed to be anything. Those words were sure to echo between his ears during every hour he existed for the rest of his life.

Deep down in the trenches of his mind he was aware it was the best option for now. For them to pump the brakes, for him to make it up to her. Rowan understood why she needed time to process. He had assumed the worst of her when in reality, the truth of those pregnancy tests had shaken her to her core, just like they had him.

Still, he couldn’t deny his excitement. While he had been wholly unprepared when Lyria was pregnant, he was ready this time. Ready in a way that only resulted in happiness buzzing through his bones when he imagined what the child would look like, what they would be like. And if he and Aelin could figure this out and work through the missteps…

Gods. He was going to be a dad. After she took the time she needed and he proved himself, they could be a family. A real family. It wasn’t going to be like last time because he was already tripping and stumbling over the edge of a cliff, his feelings rising as rapidly as the water. He was falling in love with her, and it terrified him.

Rowan could wait. He would give her all the time she wanted, that she needed, and on the other side of it he would make sure that she was the happiest woman in the world. That their baby had the universe at their feet. Anything either of them wanted, he would ensure they had it. Nothing else mattered like this, not even football.

A new determination had melded into his bones by the time Aelin came downstairs with her bag over one shoulder. He stood as she slipped on her shoes, then walked her out to her car. Apprehension was all over her face, evident in the way her fingers twisted together when she faced him after opening her door.

“I’ll give back your clothes soon, I just felt gross putting the ones from yesterday back on.” Aelin gestured to the pair of boxers and t-shirt she wore. Rowan shook his head.

“I’m not worried about that. Keep them if you wish.” A lock of hair blew into her face with the wind. Without thinking he caught it with his fingertips, grazing her cheekbone as he pushed it behind her ear.

Aelin stiffened and took a single step back. The emotional distance was wider than the ocean when her head shook, brows meeting between her eyes that didn’t quite meet his.

“Please don’t touch me like that,” she said quietly, but not weakly. Ice water had been dumped over his head despite the warmth in the air. His fingers clenched into a tight fist as they dropped to his side and he promptly shoved them into his pockets. Rowan took several steps back, jaw wired shut. Uncomfortable. Aelin looked uncomfortable at his touch, and he wanted to slam his fist into the concrete because of it.

“I’ll text you soon,” she said, and he suddenly remembered the question that had been floating around in the back of his mind for the last two days. Just as she was about to shut the door, he grabbed the top of it to keep it from closing. Aelin jolted a bit, her eyebrows rising high as the clouds.

“How did you find out?” She looked at him for a second while she processed the question, and then laughed. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

“My best friend, Lysandra. I hadn’t sent her very many good pictures of your face yet, so she just googled ‘Rowan’ along with soccer and Doranelle hoping for a team photo or something.” Rowan laughed, too. Some of the tension eased from his shoulders as she smiled at him in their truce.

He nodded after a moment, a small smile still on his face. He stepped back to let her drive away, standing in the mid-afternoon silence while her tires kicked up clouds of dust. It would be a long road to win her trust back, but he wouldn’t stop until he had earned it.

~*~

The car ride back to Varese was spent choking back tears and forcing air into her lungs to ground her. As soon as she was back in her apartment, however, the dam broke. A tidal wave of emotion crashed down upon her head, and the front door was barely closed before her thumbs were punching buttons on her phone. By the time Lysandra picked up there were sobs violently shaking her entire body.

Before pregnancy, this wouldn’t have been anything to cry over. She still would have called Lysandra, of course, but it wasn’t something that would wreck her like this. Truthfully, Aelin didn’t even know why she was crying, other than the fact that she just felt alone. No universe existed where Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was alone in anything, much less a pregnancy. But she had nowhere to go to seek comfort in Varese. Two weeks ago it would have been to Rowan, but that was off the table. Now she just had an empty apartment and her thoughts.

Lysandra listened while she cried and tried to get a deep breath down. Aelin hadn’t been so upset in years and was positive that if she wasn’t pregnant, everything wouldn’t feel quite so out of control. As it was, there were no handholds to grab onto, no footholds to keep her from sliding down the cliff. While her emotions waxed and waned, Lysandra was there to listen to it all, to soothe her anxiety when she started to spiral out of control.

Part of her wished Aedion knew about the pregnancy because she needed him right now. But Lysandra filled his shoes almost well enough for everything to dwindle to a simmering calm.

Though she was set to fly out next week, Lys managed to find a lone ticket that would put her in Varese early the next morning. They talked while she packed, the blonde managing to calm down enough to go over everything that had been said between her and Rowan earlier that morning.

“I want to forgive him,” she said quietly a few hours later, curled up in her kleenex-covered bed.

“Why can’t you?”

“I–” Her lips twisted into a knot as she frowned at the floor. “I just need to be sure. You know? I need to… I don’t know.”

“You need to know that if this is going to be an actual relationship and not a co-parenting situation, that he isn’t going to hurt you again,” Lysandra offered, somehow seeing directly into Aelin’s mind and knowing the inner workings better than she did herself.

“Yeah,” she sniffed, those emotions threatening to spill over once again despite how much she had already cried. Even though a relationship was the last thing she wanted. “I just need to be sure.”

An hour later, Lysandra was ready for her 6:30 AM flight, and Aelin was more than ready to not feel quite so alone.

When she pulled up to the airport to pick up her best friend in the early hours of the morning, the sun just beginning to crest over the mountaintops to the east, it wasn’t the dark-haired beauty she was expecting. In fact, she almost drove right past the man that shared her eyes and golden hair. The man that could be her twin.

It was Aedion.

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mariaofdoranelle · 10 months

Text

Look at Us Now - Ch. 11

Fic masterlist

This week I had to reassure two different friends about a Rowaelin HEA for this fic, can you believe this? It’s like you guys don’t trust my fluff-loving side at all lmaoo

Warnings: language, drunk idiots

Word count: 4,4k

As a soon-to-be mother, Aelin was so proud of her baby girl for growing so much.

As an orthopedist, she was mourning the perfect posture she used to have.

Fenrys stopped at the kitchen’s doorstep to stare at her. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m trying to save my lombardic curve. Stop being weird about it.”

He shrugged and sat on the nearest couch as Aelin tried to adjust that arched back of hers. Holy rutting Mala, why did pregnancy make her go through all that?

“Is Dorian coming tonight?”

“Probably. If he feels like it.” Fenrys shrugged. “It’s not that serious.”

Aelin crossed her arms, clamping her lips together as she tried to look serious. “You’re just casually seeing each other every day?”

“Exactly.” He turned on the TV. “Just like you and Rowan are platonically living together and having a baby.”

She gaped, but still sat by his side. “Take it back!”

“Absolutely not! Do you think Rowan just…” Fenrys flailed his arms around, looking for an example. “He doesn’t goes around massaging everyone’s feet, Aelin. I’m pretty sure you’re the only person he does that for.”

She crossed her arms, chin up. “He does it for me, but not because of me. I just happen to be carrying his baby.”

“The baby is inside the belly, not the feet.”

She sighed, forcing her voice into a lower, calmer tone. “Look, you weren’t there, but he clearly wasn’t interested. He only changed because of the baby. And I’m not complaining about it, I had fun, I’m just saying that if he wanted non-platonic stuff with me, he would tell me.”

Fenrys looked her dead in the eye. “You had a boyfriend.”

“And that never stopped him from fucking me senseless. Wouldn’t stop him from seeing me outside the base if he wanted to.”

It was true, and it was also killing her. Every time Rowan ran to a store to buy something she was craving or massaged her swollen feet, Aelin had the painful reminder that, when it was just her, all she got was cock and a couch inside his office. Rowan just learned very early on that happy mom means happy baby, and she was trying to be okay with it.

They were just having casual sex at first, and now he seemed okay with keeping things platonic for their kid. There was no use in reading between the lines.

After that, Aelin decided to go find Rowan at her house. Fenrys was nice enough to be silent when Dorian was there, but his bed still got squeaky sometimes.

She hired a company to paint her house, since she couldn’t smell paint because of the baby, nor could she let Rowan paint the entire four-bedroom house the Air Force provided her. He protested her decision, but he was already doing too much for her.

Aelin had a feeling that, if she asked him to build a house from scratch for this baby, he’d do it alone without thinking twice.

She had already grown familiar with the path between her house and Rowan’s. The sound of the leaves when the wind got a little stronger never failed to soothe her, and Aelin was excited to co-parent a kid with such close proximity.

Which could be even closer, if her new idea worked out.

When Aelin stepped into her house, the first thing she noticed was the faint sound of Syd Barrett spilling his guts, and she looked for the source until she found Rowan lying on the nursery’s floor.

He didn’t seem surprised when she walked in, though. He probably listened to her footsteps all the way to the baby’s room.

“I didn’t know you were into junkies from the 60’s.”

Rowan got up to get another pillow and help ease her onto the floor. “You listen to them all the time.”

Aelin closed her eyes, feeling the muscles on her back relax now that she was lying too. “My parents were fans.”

Rowan’s hand found her scalp, and Aelin almost purred. God, she was too weak for those.

“You think about them a lot?” He asked.

“More often now that I’m pregnant. And with insomnia.”

Pregnancy just made her think of them more often now, but it wasn’t the crushing type of grief she felt during her late childhood and early teen years. It was bittersweet.

Rowan hummed, never ceasing to caress her hair. “Did you try eating an apple before bed? It helps to induce sleep.”

“No, I haven’t.” Aelin hid her face on his side, trying her best not to laugh.

Apples before bed did absolutely nothing for people with sleep disorders. Rowan didn’t know that her pregnancy was just making a deeper problem worse, though. Aelin couldn’t take any kind of sleeping pills with a baby on the way, and telling him this problem with no solution was just going to make the Buzzard worry to death.

Aelin had been off her antidepressants for almost two years, so this new development made her ghost her psychiatrist and decide to go back once she stopped breastfeeding. She had plenty of time to tell Rowan about that.

Aelin closed her eyes and grinned. “This song is so silly. I love how he laughs halfway into it.”

It was a good song, but he just repeated the name Maisie over and over most of the time.

“It isn’t silly,” Rowan protested. “He’s stoned out of his mind, and the only thing he feels like doing is repeating that girl’s name over and over. It’s kinda relatable”

“Rowan Whitethorn.” Her voice was low as she looked at him with widened, surprised eyes. “Are you coming out as a stoner?”

Chuckling, he playfully pinched her upper arm and turned sideways to face her while lying. “The name is really cute.”

“Maisie?”

“Yeah.”

She chewed her bottom lip, thinking this over. The name was adorable. “But we’re not naming our daughter after a junkie’s song, right?”

“No.” He shook his head, as if erasing the idea. “Of course not.”

They just stayed there, letting the album play as Aelin took in the baby’s room. It was so cute she felt like her chest could burst any minute.

She made Rowan and Aedion put a baby blue wallpaper, even if the Air Force’s regiment said every wall should be plain white. The furniture was in white wood, except for the little dresser in the corner.

It was wooden as well, but every drawer was a different shade of blue, getting darker at the bottom. The knobs were sea life themed, and it took Aelin a lifetime to decide which animal went with what drawer.

It was the cutest, babiest little thing. She woke Rowan up at 1 am to show this finding when she saw it online. It was her favorite part of the nursery.

Aelin felt her heart bang again when she met Rowan’s deep, inquisitive eyes.

“What’s on your mind?”

She placed her pillow closer to Rowan and hugged him. “Thank you.”

He had been pulling Aelin’s house together day and night, completely ignoring her protests about not letting her do much.

Rowan didn’t say anything, just caressed her head in that way that made her melt.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” she continued.

He hummed.

“Your house doesn’t have much of the baby vibe. With the parade of one-night stands and all.”

Rowan sighed. “I know I need to have this talk with—“

She shushed him. The house was Fenrys’ as well, and she didn’t want a surprise baby to disrupt his lifestyle.

“I thought of something. It’s not a permanent solution, but I won’t put an expiration date on it either.”

Rowan leaned closer, watching her intently.

“When I move into this house, you could come with me—“

He engulfed her in a hug, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “Yes.”

“You can pick any room you’d—“

“Yes.”

“So neither of us will be alone with a newborn—“

“Yes.”

Aelin laughed, feeling her chest tremble against his own. Alright, he didn’t need a lot of explanations. She got that.

They just stared at each other for a moment. Aelin felt her heart knock on her throat and do fuzzy little flips as she watched how Rowan’s smile made his eyes light up.

For the first time, she could put a name on the jolt of electricity he made her feel.

She was falling, and bracing herself for the bone crush.

It was funny how everyone from this soccer moms’ night out was telling her to stop being shy and sing with Lysandra. Aelin wasn’t a shy person at all, she was just someone who knew her strengths. Singing wasn’t one of them.

There was no amount of fancy drinks that could make her go up on that stage, but now that Lys made the crowd ask no nicely…

Dorian was trying to save Aedion’s love life in a bar two blocks away. If this became a huge embarrassment, she could just leave, pretend this never happened and join them there. Aelin got up and took the second mic, not missing the cheery crowd—and especially her table—stirring things up.

“What are you two singing?” The employee with the computer asked.

“Lana?” Aelin suggested, but her friend had a vacant stare on the crowd.

She poked Lys on the ribs. “What are we singing?”

“Oh.” She jerked Aelin’s way, blinking, but then her disoriented face turned into a roguish grin. “Peppers.”

Not a question, but Lys and the employee still sought Aelin’s confirmation before starting.

Aelin was just singing at first. She wasn’t stiff, but there was nothing much to her moves. However, when the pre-chorus was reaching its end, Lysandra placed one hand on hand on Aelin’s hips in an attempt to loosen it, and that’s when she understood.

Lys didn’t want to sing a song. She wanted them to give a full show. And now that Aelin understood, she wouldn’t settle for less.

She was rolling her hips, swaying her whole body and toying with her hair as the lyrics suggested. Aelin had no idea if the tables were stirring them in because they were actually good or just two excited drunks, but she was eating it up.

“Put your hands on my knees, baby!” Someone screamed, referencing the song lyric.

Aelin had a snarky remark ready, but kept to herself when she realized it came from a woman, not a creepy dude. Instead, she swayed her hips harder and went down so she could put her hands on her knees in a little provocative manner. The lesbian roared, making her cackle mid-chorus.

And you know what? Tonight was about girls. Aelin came with her soccer mom friends to talk about girl things and sip girly drinks. If she was doing sexy dances tonight, it was for the lesbians. And bisexual girls. Non-binary too—

Lys tapped her shoulder when she stopped singing, too distracted counting all the letters from the acronym to check if she wasn’t forgetting anything. Fuck. She blamed it on the tequila.

Aelin smiled at the crowd when the song ended, taking the applause and fame in. Maybe she should quit orthopedics to perform for a living. Maybe that was her true calling.

All of those thoughts came to a halt when she paused to carefully study the room, though. Her heart stopped just to go back at the highest speed.

Rowan. By the side of a hot redhead.

He was staring at her, and there was no way to decipher that intense look in his eyes. His lips were pursed, but even if Rowan looked pissed, he never took his eyes off her. Not while she was on stage, not when Lys dragged her by the arm to the ladies’ room.

The redhead was looking between them the whole time, probably figuring something out already.

Aelin didn’t do anything when she got to the bathroom, though. Just stood there, staring at a blank spot in the wall. She was so shocked she barely noticed the distinctive reek of a bar’s bathroom. Lys was watching her the whole time, forehead wrinkled and hands on her hips.

This silence was too much, especially since Lys knew most of whatever went down with Rowan.

Well, that didn’t matter now. If the last weeks gave her any doubt about how she should proceed now that they were in a better situation, this just gave her rational side more certainty. He had moved on already, and so should she.

Aelin decided to reapply her lipstick just to do something with her hands.

“I’m assuming you saw Rowan with that woman.”

Yes, and not with any woman. It was the kind of woman who made single moms question their sexuality.

“A redhead?” Aelin’s voice came out slightly high-pitched as she stopped reapplying her lipstick to protest, searching for Lys’ concerned gaze through the bathroom mirror. “I thought he liked blondes. When did blondes stop being the hottest option?”

“You’d still be hotter than her if she were blonde. Or if you were a redhead.”

“This is not about me.” Aelin closed her lipstick, rolling her eyes. “I’m talking about men’s choices in general. It’s an anthropological observation.”

Lies, lies, lies. But Aelin didn’t even tell her therapist about old feelings resurfacing, she wasn’t about to pour her heart out to her newest friend while drunk at a club. Especially not while Rowan was having a hot date.

She raised her eyebrows, looking as if she was tired of explaining something obvious. “Even though he was ogling you like a dog staring at meat through a butcher’s shop window?”

Aelin put away her lipstick and gave Lys a pointed look. “He was not.”

“I was there. I remember it all too well.”

Aelin’s eyes widened. “We could sing that.”

“We can, because you’re not crashing Rowan’s date tonight.”

Aelin was carefully silent. She’d be lying if she said that idea didn’t cross her mind.

“You’re not.” Lysandra’s tone was firm, and she placed both hands on her friend’s shoulders. “You’re going to repeat after me: I’m Aelin Galathynius.”

Aelin giggled. “You’re not Aelin Galathynius.”

Lys squeezed her friend’s shoulders harder than necessary. “Say it.”

She straightened her posture. “I’m Aelin Galathynius.”

“And I’m too mature to crash Rowan’s date.”

“And I’m too mature to crash Rowan’s date,” she lied.

“Great.” Lys took a deep breath and pointed to the door. “Let’s get back to our table.”

Aelin went from the restroom’s door straight to Rowan.

“Good to see you got out of your house for once.”

Rowan slowly assessed her outfit with that judgy gaze of his, making her skin burn. ”Good to see you singing something that isn’t a nursery rhyme.”

Aelin crossed her arms. “I thought you were seeing a guy tonight.”

Rowan mirrored her expression. “So did I.”

Wait, he thought who would be seeing a guy?

His date extended a hand. “Hi. I’m Ansel.”

She begrudgingly shook it. “Aelin.”

God, this was awkward. She should’ve listened to Lysandra and stayed at her table. But when she saw Rowan there on a date with this gorgeous homewrecker with incredibly shiny hair… Aelin felt like she was burning from the inside out, and not in a good way.

Something about her face must’ve showed, because Ansel pointed between her and Rowan and said, “This is totally platonic. Fenrys thought Rowan could have a night out, so he stayed with the kid and set this up.”

“This is…” Rowan tilted his head, frowning at the redhead. “Exactly and not exactly what happened at the same time.”

Ansel elbowed him, making him straighten his posture.

“This is exactly what happened,” Rowan amended.

“Rowan?” Ansel put a hand on his shoulder to grab his attention, and Aelin almost singed it off with her eyes. “Can we talk for a second?”

They excused themselves and got just far enough so they’d be out of earshot. It looked like they we bickering. Ansel pointed at Aelin with her head. Rowan’s body stiffened. She pointed at the door. He pulled at his shirt cuffs and nodded. Aelin would kill to hear whatever that exchange was, especially because when Rowan approached her, Ansel was… smirking? As weird at this sounds, it looked a lot like a smirk.

“Hey.” Rowan didn’t sit again, just got close enough so she’d hear him over the terrible performance of an 80’s song. “I’m going to call an uber. Can you stay here?”

Aelin felt her heart sink. “You’re leaving with her?”

“What? No!” His eyebrows shot up as if the idea was absurd. “I’m calling Ansel’s uber. I was asking if you can wait for me here. Or at the tables outside, anywhere but the club part.”

Aelin nodded, chuckling. The loud, buzzing dance floor by the entrance must’ve been a terrifying sight for Rowan.

She found the soccer moms and quickly explained she’d be with Rowan in the other room. They seemed to understand the situation, which was good. Aelin was friendly with everyone there, but the only person she was close with was Lys. That one would be blasting their DM tomorrow morning, there was no doubt.

Rowan came back just a few minutes after she found them a table at a calmer area outside.

The breeze hitting her shoulders was gentle, but still stronger than her thin, backless shirt. Still, Aelin held her head high, refusing to feel bad for crashing and ruining his date.

“How many beers did you pay her?”

Rowan leaned back on his chair, a playful glint in his eye. “Three, why?”

“You’re paying me four.” He opened his mouth, but she raised a finger and beat him to it. “No questions asked.”

Rowan chugged his beer after their first round came. “I don’t know why you’re being like this. Aren’t you dating other people too?”

“What?” Aelin slightly shook her head, mouth ajar. “Where is this coming from?”

He tilted his head. “You were very clear about wanting more kids.”

“And then you made an assumption about my dating life.”

Rowan didn’t answer, unwavering.

Aelin held a finger up. “First, I told you I haven’t figured that out yet.” Another finger up. “Second, I wasn’t in a relationship the first time, I don’t need one to have kids again.” She shrugged. “For all you know, I could be talking about adoption or fertilization.”

Rowan had his arms crossed, eyes squinted at her. “Why would you pay to have kids if we did that for free the last time?”

The mix of what he’d just said and his displeased face made her cackle. Hard. Her head was tilted back, her body trembling as she tried to regain composure and feel less breathless.

“Why is this funny?” He protested, trying and failing to hide a silly smile. “I’m just saying that if you don’t have another person you’d like to… share genes with, the reasonable thing to do would be make the other children genetically compatible with Maisie.” He sipped his beer, looking nonchalant. “In case one of them needs a kidney or a bone marrow transplant.”

“Alright.” She chugged the rest of her beer down. “Let’s suppose I decide to do that. Would you donate your sperm and sign off parental rights?”

“Absolutely not!” He blurted, clutching his beer for dear life as if it’d protect his imaginary kids from Aelin’s modern ideas. “I’d make and raise them the old-fashioned way.”

Aelin leaned towards Rowan, her pulse skyrocketing as her breath fanned against the shell of his ear. “I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

There was no mistaking the way he trembled under her whisper. Rowan found the exposed curve of her waist with his hands like a magnet, the tips of his fingers pressing against her skin.

Rowan’s pupils were dilated, his forest-green irises looked on fire. “Stop teasing me. We’re drunk.”

Aelin leaned back on her seat and sipped her drink, chest filled with satisfaction even after being rejected. It was really hard to feel defeated now, since Rowan was too intoxicated to take his eyes off her golden top.

“You were a lot more fun six years ago.”

Rowan chuckled and finished his bottle. “Next round?”

Aelin confirmed at the same time her phone started ringing.

“Dor? Is everything okay—“

“I can’t stand your cousin anymore, Aelin! I’m dumping him in the sewers!”

She chuckled, not missing Rowan’s curious gaze. “Did Aed drink too much?”

“That too! He went straight to a woman and slurred: ‘you’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen this week.’ I can’t do this, Aelin. He’s unsalvageable.”

Aelin snorted. “Alright, give me five minutes and I’ll text you.”

“Too long!”

She finished the call before Dorian could protest further. Rowan had his head tilted, waiting for an explanation.

“Dorian’s bored, so he decided to be Aedion’s wingman tonight. They’re at a bar close by, so we agreed to uber back together.”

“Uber together where? Dorian lives in the opposite side of town.”

She shrugged. “Who knows? You know how Dorian is.”

That explanation seemed enough for Rowan. It didn’t take long for them to decide it was way past their bedtime already, so they decided to head out as well.

They needed to have their wristbands scanned at the cashier near the exit, and she took a step back when Rowan mentioned for her arm as well.

Aelin shook her head. “I spent a small fortune in frilly cocktails.”

He didn’t say a thing, just gently took her wrist and showed it to the cashier.

The outside of the club looked the same it did hours ago, except the line to enter was longer, making the street too loud for it to be the middle of the night.

“Heeeey.” Aelin made a twist to look him in the eye, but stumbled on her heels. Rowan tried to catch her from falling, but she beat him to it. She was just that kind of independent drunk. “Your mom invited me to your trip with Maisie the last time she was in town.”

Rowan snorted. “Sounds like her.”

Every year, Rowan and Maisie visited the southeastern beach house his parents retired in. Inviting Aelin to her ex’s trip without letting him know was something only Rory Whitethorn could pull off. She was a… peculiar person, to say the least. Aelin loved her to death.

“What did you tell her?” He asked.

Aelin tried to look nonchalant, thankful he couldn’t tell the tingling in her limbs. “What was I supposed to tell her? I already crashed your date, I won’t crash your trip too.”

To be fair, Aelin didn’t say anything because she would not, under any circumstance, invite herself to Rowan’s trip. And by under any circumstance, she meant only if she was drunk.

He shrugged. “Maisie would love it if you went.”

She gave him a pointed look. “Of course Maisie would want me to go. I’m talking about you. Would you feel comfortable with me there?”

Rowan’s shoulders dropped, and something in his eyes melted. “Of course I would. Do you want to come with me next month?”

Aelin flipped her hair, not looking him in the eye. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

He snorted and placed a hand on the back of her shoulder, gently stroking that patch of skin with his thumb until their uber arrived.

Rowan opened the backseat door for her, but a very drunk Aedion called his name from the inside.

She leaned closer to Rowan and whispered, “I think he wants you to go in the middle.”

He sighed, but complied.

The moment they got inside and closed the door, Aedion laid down on the backseat, resting his head on Rowan’s lap and hugging his middle. “I love you, man.”

Rowan petted his head the same way he’d do to a dog. “You’re okay.”

“Aw,” Dorian cooed from the passenger seat. “He got so happy when he saw you outside.”

“Are you staying with Aedion?” Rowan asked, since the driver was getting them farther from Dorian’s apartment each minute.

“No, I’m staying with you. You stole my boyfriend, remember?”

Rowan’s face was flat when he replied, “Thanks for letting me know.”

Grinning at the bickering, Aelin rested her head on Rowan’s shoulders and nearly purred when his hand met her scalp. He chuckled. She lightly elbowed his ribs.

“You know damn well I’m weak for those,” she mumbled, eyes blissfully closed.

“I do.”

Aelin almost fell asleep right there, all because of Rowan’s skilled hands. She would’ve, if it wasn’t for the seat bumping as the driver sped, and the annoying air freshener in the car.

When they arrived, Rowan decided to drop Aelin off while Dorian did the same to a nearly dead drunk Aedion, and they’d meet later. Or Dorian could just break into the house through Fenrys’ window like he used to, that part wasn’t clear.

“There’s this thing nagging me,” Rowan said as they walked through her front garden.

“Spill.”

“Dorian seemed to know you were with the soccer moms all the time, but Fenrys seemed so clueless about this earlier today.”

“Oh.” Aelin leaned against a pillar, scrambling for a nice way to explain this. “Dorian doesn’t tell much about me to Fenrys, since it’d be the same as telling you. I never asked him to do this, but he’s just that loyal.”

Rowan’s expression seemed downcast for a beat, then he concealed it with a grin. “Keeping secrets, Lieutenant?”

Aelin crouched to get the keys from under the front mat, trying to downplay how much that harmless question made her heart twist. Something about her demeanor must’ve given it away, since he changed the subject.

“You know it’s not safe to leave your keys there, right? Why didn’t you take them with you?”

Aelin got up again and sighed, already knowing it was too much for his male brain to understand. “My purse is small, and the keys would scratch my lipstick tube.”

Rowan shook his head, but a small smile betrayed his disapproving face. “So between your lipstick and your house keys, you’d rather keep the lipstick?”

“Absolutely. I need to keep my priorities straight.”

He chuckled, eyes soft as their corners crinkled. “Good night, Aelin.”

Rowan held her upper arm for a beat, caressing it with his thumb, and then let her go.

This chapter has a bonus scene

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writtenonreceipts · 8 months

Text

Rowaelin Month Day Three: Rowaelin as Teens @rowaelinscourt

This is a prologue of sorts, the rest of the fic will come closer to the holidays, hopefully—unfortunately my fic writing will be slowing down massively here in the next little bit. But, I’ve had this idea on the brain for a year now, so here we are! I’m hoping this’ll only be 3 parts total, depending on how part two goes…

Rowaelin Month Masterlist Main Masterlist

Warnings: mild (teenage) angst, references to parental death.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Like Best Friends Do—Part One

It was December eighteenth and the first snowfall had finally come to Terrasen.

Usually, the snow was a perpetual problem for the city beginning in late October and not slowing down until mid-April, at least. This year was different. And Rowan didn’t know how he felt about that.

He’d never been one for change if he were being honest with himself. Even at eighteen years old (his birthday only occurring a few weeks ago) Rowan had learned that change incited problems. Problems led to conflict. And conflict made way for misery. He knew the path quite well and was not welcome to any sort of change. Ever.

Which was why he sat in his beat-up Honda just outside of his best-friend’s house. Tradition demanded it.

He wasn’t waiting long when a shape dashed across the sidewalk toward him. With far too much energy and fervor, Aelin Galathynius threw open the passenger door.

“Sorry, sorry!” she said as she tossed a grocery bag across the console at him. “I know I’m late.”

Rowan caught the bag easily and shook his head. He couldn’t be mad, not at her.

Aelin stuck her head in the car and scowled. She wore a ridiculous winter hat with ear flaps, her blonde hair in a wild mess of waves beneath it. “I couldn’t find any marshmallows because I live with a bunch of heathens apparently.”

She then eased into the car taking care to balance two steaming thermoses in her hands. With her blonde hair flying about her face and the pink tint to her nose and cheeks, she looked far more angelic than he knew she felt. Though, Rowan wouldn’t say anything of course. He couldn’t.

As Aelin settled the thermoses between her legs, she closed the car door and buckled up. Then she grinned at him with that reckless abandon he was so accustomed to seeing.

“I am ready.”

For as long as Rowan could remember, he and Aelin had spent their Christmases looking at the lights. At first, their parents would make a carpool even of it. Holiday music blaring from the stereo, hot cocoa freshly made, and windows rolled down for the best view. For the young, impressionable kid in the prime of childhood: it was magic.

Then of course, Rowan’s dad died. That had taken some magic out of things. He’d been twelve and an only child. His mother, brilliant woman that she was, persevered. She ran the small family farm with grace and dignity, never once thinking about letting it go. She always insisted that change was just an opportunity to grow and she would grow right where she was, thank-you very much.

Still, Rowan had always hated change.

But even as Rowan struggled with grief over his dad—some things remained the same.

Ever since he’d gotten his license at the tick of his sixteenth birthday, he and Aelin often escaped on adventures of their own. During the holidays it meant it was just him and Aelin going around to look at the lights. It was always at her insistence and Rowan found it impossible to say no to her. The music and cocoa remained even when their parents no longer took them out themselves.

“What is all this?” Rowan asked. He poked at the plastic bag and sighed. Sitting on top was a giant bag of chocolate. Below he could see a baggie of baby carrots. Just for him. “Seriously?”

“Snacks!”

“I don’t like food in my car!” He knew it was a weak argument, the weakest of all arguments that could possibly be made.

She blinked at him with her big blue eyes and pouted. The streetlamps filtered through the windows creating a halo around her. It was impossible that one person could be so beautiful.

“Please? It’s Christmas!”

And Rowan, being in love with his best friend, sighed. “You’re insufferable.”

Aelin beamed at him and leaned across the center console to smack a kiss to his cheek. “I won’t make a mess, I promise.”

It was a lie and they both knew it. Aelin wasn’t the best at remaining organized even when she did try her best. To be honest, that combination was one of her most endearing attributes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rowan said, though he couldn’t help the small smile that escaped him.

He pulled the car out onto the road and headed down the street to the first neighborhood.

They were seniors in high school and had spent the last two weeks busy with finals and essays. This was going to be a fun, easy way for them to relax before Christmas. And Rowan, knowing Aelin was also stressed out over basketball, wanted to make this the best round of Christmas lights possible.

He’d already done some scouting earlier in the week. He didn’t care as much about the lights himself, but there was something about watching the joy and wonder on Aelin’s face that sent flutters to his gut and brought a smile to his lips.

She always found joy in everything. She was someone who wanted to see good, to be good. He’d admired it about her for ages now and was on the list of reasons why he loved his best friend.

Not that he actually wrote anything on that list down. He wasn’t an idiot, anyone could come across it. But he kept a mental tally of all the things.

“How’s your mom?” Aelin asked as they drove. She sipped her cocoa and hummed happily. “Is she making it through alright?”

“Yeah,” Rowan sighed. “Summer was a good season, so we’ve got hoards of lavender and honey stored up to sell, so she’s happy about that.”

The farm had a few acres of lavender plants and three beehives which kept them busy during the summer months. Winter, however, was where the Whitethorn homestead made its money. Starting in mid-November the farm turned into a certified Christmas Wonderland. For the last fifty years it had been dedicated to growing Christmas trees. Something Rowan did not understand, but his mother loved it. Tradition. And Rowan was not one to step on tradition.

“You know, it’s kinda funny that you hate Christmas as much as you do,” Aelin mused.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “I don’t hate Christmas. I hate snow.”

“Which is even more funny, you were born on the coldest day of November, Buzzard, you should be thriving in this weather,” Aelin reminded him, as she so loved to do.

There was no arguing with her so Rowan only rolled his eyes and kept driving. His phone lit up with a text message but he ignored it. For just a little bit, he wanted to remain in this moment with his best friend. And maybe then it would imprint upon his mind for years to come.

“Oh, I love this song,” Aelin said suddenly. She turned the volume on high as Michael Buble began singing one of his famous Christmas songs.

“You say that about all the songs,” Rowan pointed out.

Aelin grinned at him. “Because it’s true. All the songs are the best.”

Rowan couldn’t help but return the smile.

As Aelin hummed along to the music, Rowan turned into the first neighborhood he’d found the other night.

Immediately, they were flooded with bright lights and inflatable machines. Aelin squealed and rolled down her window so she could lean out and get closer. She pointed everything out to Rowan as though he couldn’t already see it himself.

But he didn’t care. Not as she was singing along and laughing as she was.

They continued for over an hour going to as many different neighborhoods as they could. As it crept closer to ten and some houses began shutting off their lights, Rowan pulled them off in front of Aelin’s house, knowing that her dad would be watching for them. Best friends or not, the man had firm rules of where his daughter was and who she was with.

“What happens next year?” Aelin asked as a Nat King Cole song came on. She turned the volume down so it was a low rumble in the background.

“Next year?” Rowan frowned. Why would next year be any different?

“I’m going to Adarlan, you're going to Doranelle,” she reminded him.

Rowan sighed. He’d forgotten that. Different colleges practically at opposite ends of the continent.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said with a shrug.

Aelin sighed and hunkered down in her seat. She held onto her thermos, though Rowan was certain she’d finished her cocoa ten minutes into their drive.

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “I don’t like it when things change so much.”

Rowan reached over and took her hand, twining their fingers together. “I know.”

“You’re my best friend, Rowan,” she said looking up at him. There was panic in her eyes, Rowan could see. It was strange seeing something so out of control in a gaze that was usually so calm and confident. “And I don’t want to lose you.”

Rowan’s chest gave a painful tug. “Aelin--”

He cut himself off before he could say what he wanted. Because really, he knew that he’d never be able to tell her how he really felt about her. Though, maybe that was for the best. After all, if it came to having Aelin in his life versus not--he’d always chose the first.

His phone went off then with an incoming call before he had a chance to debate his inner thoughts further. Before Rowan could reach for it, Aelin snatched the phone up. They always shared their phones that it shouldn’t have been an issue. But Rowan knew who was calling him.

“Cairn?” Aelin asked, looking up. Her face was illuminated by the pale glow of the screen as the call continued to ring through and the dim green and red that bounced off from the lights on her house. “Why would he be calling you?”

Rowan turned away, out toward the street where snow was beginning to accumulate. The truth burned like acid in the back of his throat.

“It doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “he needs help in history.”

“Finals ended last week.” Aelin practically threw his phone at him. He could hear the displeasure dripping from her voice. “Seriously, Rowan? He’s an asshole. You can’t be friends with him.”

“We’re not!” Rowan dropped his hands from the car wheel and slouched in his seat. “C’mon Aelin, you know I don’t like the guy.”

“Then why’s he calling you? You know what he and Erawan said about Elide, what Cairn tried with her.” Aelin leaned back in her seat, simply staring at him.

“Which is why we’re not friends,” Rowan insisted.

The only reason Cairn was trying to call him was for something stupid, Rowan knew. They played basketball together which supposedly curated comradery between them. But Cairn wasn’t a nice kid. They way he talked about the girls in their class and they had tried to spike Elide’s drink at a party a few weeks ago. If Chaol Westfell hadn’t been the only sober one that night no one would have known…

But then Rowan had helped Cairn cheat on an exam so he could pass. If he’d flunked, he wouldn’t have been able to play in the state finals…and…well. Rowan never said he was a good person.

“Aelin,” he began.

But she was already throwing open the door, grabbing the empty thermoses and stuffing them into the now empty grocery bag.

“I gotta go, Rowan,” she said, not bothering to look at him.

“Aelin!” he yelled after her. She slammed the door and trudged back up to her house.

Rowan could only watch. He waited until she was inside and he saw the shadow of her silhouette pass the front window, followed by the outline of Rhoe rising from the living couch.

Only then did he start up his car and drive away.

It wasn’t thirty seconds later when Cairn called him again.

“What do you want?” Rowan growled.

“Easy Whitethorn,” Cairn said on the other end. He chuckled lowly and Rowan felt his hackles rise. “I just need a favor.”

“No.”

Another laugh followed by a shout from another person in the background. Probably Erawan.

“What else are you doing tonight, Whitethorn?” Cairn asked. “Damn, boy. You just wanna sit at home with your mama?”

The voice in the background spoke up louder. “Punkassbitch!”

Definitely Erawan. Another, cruder, stream of expletives trailed after.

“It’s almost Christmas, man,” Rowan said. He pulled his car over again, not wanting to drive and have this conversation. His ma would kill him if he got into an accident. “So, yeah, I wanna be at home.”

“I’ll bring you a blankie to practice,” Cairn said. Something clinked in the background; metal against metal that grated just a bit. “You owe me.”

Rowan cursed to himself. He wanted nothing more than to go back to Aelin’s, to pound on her door and beg her to let him in.

“Mr. Clark don’t like cheaters very much,” Cairn continued, “be a shame if someone told him what happened.”

“You’d be in as much trouble as me,” Rowan said. He shut off the radio as his skin grew hot and panic began to swirl in his stomach.

“You wanna bet?”

It took too much effort for Rowan to ease his breathing. Too much effort for him to calm down. Hell.

“What do you want, Cairn?”

…

The warehouse seemed familiar to Rowan but he couldn’t quite place it. They were in the cheaper side of the city, the side where everything was in disrepair and the video cameras were just for show. The cops didn’t care what happened and the citizens knew their voices wouldn’t actually be heard.

Only recently a few local politicians had been making an effort of improving the area. A few businesses had even tried moving in to give the lonely streets new life.

Hence the warehouse.

Why was it so familiar?

“Let’s go!” Cairn hissed. He prodded Rowan sharply in the back.

They snuck down a shadowed alleyway around the back of the warehouse. There was only one singular lamppost in the distance, but it kept flickering as though it would die at any moment. Snow fell from the sky in lazy flurries, barely coating the ground. The one time he would have actually been grateful for a snow storm. Maybe that would have driven Cairn and Erawan back home.

Rowan gripped a flashlight in one hand and a pair of heavy bolt cutters in the others. This was not going to end well. He already knew it. A chill swept through him in a mix of the actual cold weather and trepidation.

Erawan led the way to a chain link fence, cutting along one of the poles and yanking the metal back. Cairn ducked through the opening first, his own flashlight bobbing along. The two had come prepared for this. They’d planned it well too given how they moved. Rowan was just a random extra body. Someone to potentially blame this on if it all went sideways.

Erawan shoved him through the fence hole when he hesitated.

“Get off me,” Rowan hissed.

“Then move!” Erawan snapped. The stench of cigarettes and stale coffee wafted off of him.

Knowing better than to ignore the order, Rowan took off after Cairn.

“What’re we even doing? You can’t think breaking into a warehouse is a good idea.” Rowan tightened his grip on his flashlight and wondered how much trouble he’d actually get in if he decided to whack Cairn over the head with the bolt cutters. He was pretty sure he could out run Erawan if it came down to it.

Cairn didn’t answer, only led them to the side of the warehouse. When Erawan reached them, he dropped the bag he was holding, it rattled with a messy noise of battered abuse.

“Just having fun.”

Which was how Rowan found himself gang tagging the side of a warehouse at one in the morning. He shouldn’t have come, he knew. The reality of the situation was beating relentlessly against the side of his skull with each pass he made of the green spray paint. He should have told his mom what happened. Should have gone to Coach Brullo who trusted him. Should have—should have—

Erawan muttered under his breath as he spelled out a curse word in red paint, the c-u bleeding against the wall like a wound. Cairn was practicing his anatomy skills and doing a terrible job. And Rowan…Rowan just made splashes and slashes where he could. That didn’t seem to offend the others, just as long as he did something.

“We should go,” he said after nearly half an hour. A car drove by on the streets, slow and deliberate. In the darkness he couldn’t tell the make or model and it only added to his panic.

While this side of the city was sketchy at best—people still talked and eventually the cops would show up.

Cairn scoffed and was about to say something—likely a mockery of Rowan’s want to get the hell out of there—when a burst of red and blue lights erupted across the street.

Rowan dropped the spray paint he was holding. His mother was going to kill him. He looked around, desperate for an escape while Cairn and Erawan were already halfway across the abandoned lot. They didn’t get much further when a few uniformed officers flashed lights and their guns yelling for them to stop.

“On your knees!” One officer shouted. It took Rowan a moment to realize the order was directed at him. Coming up on his left was an officer, perfectly poised to take any necessary action.

Falling to his knees, Rowan’s mind blanked out. He did everything he was told to do, barely registering anything other than a muffled curse and an exclamation from one of the officers.

“They’re just kids.”

“Damn. Just get ‘um cuffed.”

It wasn’t until Rowan was hauled to his feet that he managed to catch a look at the messy display of vandalism they’d created. Only…Rowan finally latched onto the logo he’d noticed etched onto the metal door of the warehouse bay and his heart froze before his entire body seized up. He knew that logo and he knew the name attached to it.

Galacorp.

Aelin’s father’s company. That he’d just helped to vandalize.

“Let’s go kid,” the officer next to him said, guiding Rowan to his feet as he began to recite Rowan’s rights.

Rowan hardly listened. Couldn’t. Because in just the span of an hour his entire life turned over on its head. He let the officer guide him to the police cruiser only tripping up when he caught sight of a familiar black SUV with tinted windows and sleek specially ordered rims.

Rhoe Galathynius leaned casually against the back of the car, arms crossed over his wool coat. He watched Rowan closely with an unreadable expression. And Rowan knew that nothing would ever be the same after this.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

will reblog with tags. Please consider reblogging so others see it! <3

thanks for reading.

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin month #throne of glass #tog

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julemmaes · 1 year

Text

Mrs. Flatus

finally Rowaelin Yulemas Swap

A/N: As late as usual, wouldn't be me otherwise, here's your fic you kind and patient soul, @live-the-fangirl-life, hoping your expectations didn't go as high I'd wished for. I have to thank all the people that helped me get this out and @bookstantrash and @thewayshedreamed especially, for being my forever support. Enjoy this little baby!

Word count: 5.834

Rowan’s head fell back at the sound of his front door. The hinges creaked loudly as Lysandra waltzed in without so much as a knock. It wasn’t the first time, and he bet it wouldn’t be the last.

She looked at the shirtless guys standing in the middle of the kitchen and whispered with horror in her voice, “What the fuck are you eating?”

“Girl, is that what you’re focusing on?” Elide, coming in right behind her, hunched forward, eyeing the glass in their friend’s hand. Her eyes, filled with concern and a little disbelief, slid to Lysandra. “He’s drinking beer at 11am.”

Fenrys frowned, scratching at his naked chest. “No, I’m not.”

“It’s tea,” Lorcan called from the couch, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Why is it in a pint glass?” Elide asked the room, walking towards her boyfriend and leaning down to kiss him on the lips. She went to rise again, but she was pulled by the waist to sit on Lorcan’s lap, who was mindlessly watching an old game’s recording.

“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business?” Fenrys retorted, a sarcastic smile on his lips.

Elide gasped, bringing a hand to her throat. “The disrespect.”

“What’s disrespectful—”

Rowan slammed his hands on the desk hard enough to stop whatever line was about to come out of his friend’s mouth. He stood up from his work table and eyed everyone in his apartment.

When silence fell and everyone’s gaze was fixed on him, he took a deep breath and spoke clearly. “What’s disrespectful…” he said, glaring at Fenrys, “is that I’m trying to work, and none of you should be here.”

“I live here,” Lorcan deadpanned.

Rowan sighed, running a hand down his face, “I know that, dickhead. I was referring to the ladies and the pup.”

Elide raised a hand to defend herself. “My boyfriend lives here.”

“I got wasted yesterday night and need assistance to recover,” Fenrys said around the rim of his glass.

Rowan arched a brow, “I— I don’t even,” he trailed off, looking at Lorcan. “Did you guys go out yesterday?”

His flatmate shook his head, keeping his eyes on the screen.

“Then what are you talking about?” Rowan asked Fenrys.

“I went out with Connall and some of the girls. We were at Pip’s.”

Rowan stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t.

“Okay, and?”

Fenrys shrugged, “Then, I just let myself in at 4am and crashed on your couch.”

“Your place is closer to the bar than here,” Lysandra noted.

The blond guy slightly tilted his head to the side, “Whose side are you on?”

“It’s just kinda stupid that you walked all the way here instead of going to your house. And where did Connall—”

“Lys!” Rowan interrupted her.

“What?” She asked,exasperated.

He went to rebut, but his phone pinged with an annoying chirping sound.

Aelin.

As he dived for his phone on the desk, Lorcan groaned, muttering about him falling off the face of earth whenever she texted.

Fenrys huffed a laugh. “Didn’t know you’d moved to Pussy-Whipped Town, Ro. Isn’t it crowded there? I heard it’s getting uncomfy.”

Lorcan snorted, and it caught Lysandra’s sharp attention.

“What are you even laughing about, lover boy?” Her and Manon had started calling him that since his and Elide’s very first date. Needless to say, he hated it. “You probably helped him move his stuff there, since you know the city so well.”

Elide chuckled on his lap at the frown on Lorcan’s face. He was caressing his girlfriend’s thigh, but nothing stopped him from flipping his dark-haired friend off as Elide gave him a peck on the lips.

Rowan, in the meantime, had shut the world out.

That had turned out to be an easy task in the last few months. Whenever Aelin was in the same room as him. Or whenever she called. Or texted, actually.

He didn’t waste a second opening the glimmering notification.

the kids at this thing are driving me fudging insane I need us to go to pip’s tonight please

Rowan’s lips curled as he reread her text, specifically the child-friendly curse word. She’d been working as a piano teacher in one of their neighbourhood’s elementary schools for five years now, but she still had issues with censuring herself in front of her students. And he knew it was probably proving harder than ever as she attended the school fair she’d organised for the past two months.

Looking at the clock on the wall before replying, he hoped his words would ease some of the tension in her.

You only got started half an hour ago. You got this, Fireheart. Just remember all the leftovers you’ll get to take home once it’s over.

“It’s disgusting.” Lysandra’s voice brought him back to reality.

Rowan lifted his head and noticed, with no small irritation, that all his friends were looking at him.

“You’re not even together and you’re disgustingly in love,” she finished.

��Shut up,” he grumbled, sitting back down.

Elide perked up, moving her hands mid-air as her gaze went from him to Lorcan, to Lys, and back to him. “Wait, what? Is that true?”

Rowan shook his head, not meeting his friend’s eyes.

“Are you in love with her?” Elide pushed for a verbal reply, gripping the back of the couch as if her life depended on it.

He didn’t dare open his mouth. This had nothing to do with them. This was his private life, and as much as he appreciated his friends, he had no business discussing it with them.

“You might as well say it, man. Aelin’s got you wrapped around her devilish little fingers,” Fenrys butted in.

He pretended not to hear them as they continued talking about his not-so-subtle crush on one of his dearest friends and went back to work on his laptop. He managed to work for a total of twenty seconds before his phone pinged again with a new text from her.

Rowan couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his face, earning a laugh from the others.

tbf it wouldnt even be that bad if one of the girls had agreed to come with me but they all said they had important poop to do and now im lonely

This text was accompanied by a sad face. Rowan scowled, looking up at the women standing in front of him, doing important poop.

“Why didn’t you go with Aelin to her school fair?” he asked, not caring that he interrupted something about Aelin’s boobs and the effect they had on him.

Lysandra’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as she huffed. “Cause those kids are too much work, and if Aelin could skip those events, she would too. She can handle a few hours on her own.”

Rowan looked at Elide then, who shrugged. “What she said.”

He glanced at his computer screen, at Fenrys, who was currently munching on some leftover pasta from the night before, then at all these people who he greatly loved but that needed to get out of his house. That way, he could finish his job, reach her himself, and help however he could to make it easier for her. An idea popped into his head.

“What if,” he started, standing up and promptly taking Fenrys’ shirt from the floor and walking up to him. “You all got the fuck out of here—”

Fenrys gripped Rowan’s arm. “Why are you pushing me?”

“—and went to Aelin’s school for a few hours—”

“No, seriously, man, stop pushing me out. I don’t have my pants on. It’s below zero outside.”

“—so I can finish this in peace, and I’ll see you all tonight at Pip’s?”

By the time he’d finished talking, Fenrys was halfway through the front door—pantless and with his shirt hanging around his neck—and Lysandra was muttering under her breath how rude he was for kicking them out so mercilessly. Elide seemed hesitant to get up, but when Lorcan met Rowan’s eyes and understanding passed between them, his best friend slapped her on the thigh.

“You heard him, Lochan. Get your ass out,” Lorcan prompted. He followed his own advice, offering a curt nod to Rowan on his way out.

As soon as silence fell over his house, he released a sigh and went back to work.

***

Rowan was undressing to get into the shower before heading to Pip’s when he got a text from Aelin. He huffed as his chest tightened a bit at the sound, but he decided not to dwell too much on his feelings for the blonde goddess and just check what she wanted.

ur cooming 2 the bar ight

He smiled, shaking his head at the amount of typos and abbreviations she used. That had been a hot topic of discussion during those first weeks of them talking.

Yeah, just taking a quick shower first and then I’ll meet you there.

He hit send and then decided to add a smiley face, just to show that he was excited about seeing her. She took less than ten seconds to reply with an emoji herself.

i smell like horse poop

Rowan barked a laugh and leaned on the sink, running a hand through his hair. He bit his lip as he pictured her navigating through farm animals all day long, trying to avoid stepping on shit while also keeping all the kids alive and unharmed.

i also drunk a lot of juice and someone spiked it and im kindaish tipsyyishh

He stood up at that, typing fast on his phone.

Is someone with you? You’re not driving right now, right?

Aelin took way longer than usual to reply, and Rowan was about to say hell with the shower and run to the school in his underwear if she hadn’t replied in the next two minutes.

relax im with the gvng lys is gonna drive us

He released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and then texted her they were gonna see each other in a bit. She said the same, and just as he was about to enter the shower, he remembered something.

Oh and, Ace? You should bring a coat tonight.

The last time they’d gone out, she’d worn the skimpiest dress ever. It had driven him insane, but it had also made Aelin catch a cold that had spread across their entire group of friends. And surely no one needed a repeat of that.

I SHOUKD?!?!?!?

Her reply came as a surprise, and Rowan reread his text, wondering if he’d typed something wrong.

...yes?

The three dots appeared and disappeared at least five times before a blue bubble finally popped up.

u wont be amgry??

Rowan questioned his sanity at that point. What was going on?

Of course I won’t be angry, what are you on about?

Aelin again took forever to reply and once she did, it did nothing to calm him down.

NPTHING! SEE U THERE, LOVE YU

The entire way to the bar, Rowan couldn’t focus on anything but that weird conversation. Nothing but that simple love you she had mindlessly thrown out there. It wasn’t unusual of Aelin to say those two words to her friends. She used it as one does hello and goodbye, but it had been the first time she’d done it with him and his mind was racing with thoughts like why now.

Had he been too harsh on her? Why would she think he’d be upset about her wearing a coat?

Had she been wearing those tormentingly short dresses for him?

No, that couldn’t have been it. It didn’t make any sense. Plus, he’d stalked her Instagram account. She’d worn those things way before she came into his life.

Without being able to take those thoughts out of his mind, Rowan started thinking of what Lysandra had implied today. What Elide had asked confirmation for.

He and Aelin hadn’t seen each other in some days now. He had been too tied with workloads and due-dates, and Aelin had been busy even at night with all the prep she had to do for her classes.

And he couldn’t lie, he missed her like hell.

He wasn't sure when it had started to change with Aelin, but there had been a moment when their relationship had gone from being a simple acquaintance to something much deeper. Rowan would have liked to say that it was thanks to that night when they had both opened their hearts to each other, discovering that they had much more in common than they thought, but he knew that his feelings had been there for much longer—dormant perhaps, but always ready to explode in his heart.

And as supportive as their friends had been of this hypothetical relationship, Rowan and Aelin still hadn't hinted at what was between them. And Rowan was fine with that. More than fine.

There was a certain dynamic between him and Aelin, and there was no reason to break that perfectly stable balance by complicating things with feelings he himself still couldn't fully comprehend.

He parked the car at the end of the street—Pip’s being at its fullest on a random Friday night—and rapidly walked to the bar as the winter cold embraced him like a too-tight hug.

The second he stepped inside, the warmth and commotion washed over him, and he could not help but smile slightly at the sight of the Christmas decorations hanging around the room. He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm himself a little as he sought out his group of friends. It wasn't long before he heard Aedion's thunderous laughter on the opposite side of the place.

They were all there.

Elide and Lysandra were dancing beside the pool table, where Dorian, Manon, Aedion and Fenrys were challenging each other to death. Connall and Lorcan, together with Asterin and Nehemia, were sitting at their usual table, and it was impossible for Rowan to stop the spontaneous question forming in his brain. Where was she? Lorcan turned towards him just then, and the expression on his face made him stop in his tracks.

A mixture of amusement and exasperation marked the features of his friend's face. Rowan shook his head, arched an eyebrow and silently asked him what was going on, and Lorcan squared his shoulders, and with a nod of his chin, pointed to the bar counter.

Rowan shifted his gaze to the crowd of people, ready for anything. Aelin dressed like an elf. Aelin dancing upside down on the bar. Aelin covered in chocolate.

He was sure that whatever she was up to, Rowan would be ready.

He was wrong.

“What the fuck.”

On the other side of the room, bleating on a stool in all its mighty and hairy glory, sat a goat. And right next to it, Aelin circled what Rowan supposed were the goat’s shoulders with her arm. They were both sipping something that resembled chocolate milk and what he really hoped wasn’t Aelin favourite kind of Bailey’s. Whatever their drinks were, the goat really seemed to be enjoying it.

A goat.

Rowan closed his eyes, turned his back to the room and went outside. The cold hit him like a brick as he ran a hand down his face, taking a deep breath. He blinked a couple of times, hoping whatever he’d just hallucinated wouldn’t appear in the parking lot as well and went back inside. His eyes went straight to the counter, where now a waving Aelin was calling out his name.

The goat was still there.

He turned to his friends, hoping they would be at least somewhat shocked by whatever the fuck was going down, but every single one of them was too focused on something else to notice that there was an actual farm animal sitting mere meters from them. As if Aelin chilling at the counter with a fucking goat was something they were used to.

He didn’t even make it to the bar before her tiny, warm body slammed into him and she started blubbering nonsense.

“I’m so happy you finally got here,” she was saying. “I gotta introduce you to my new friend, Mrs Flatus. She’s going through a hard break up, and I think we could learn something from her. I can’t really understand her that much, but also I guess we could learn how to communicate with her.”

She took his hand and the spark that simple touch sent up his arm made his legs move automatically. He would have followed her anywhere. Or almost.

He hit the brakes, tightening his hold on her and making her halt as she sprinted towards Mrs Flatus. The movement might have been a little too brusque, because Aelin tripped over her own feet and fell back against his chest. He caught her around the waist before she went sprawling to the ground, and the sharp intake of breath from her had his whole body heat up in under a second.

“Easy there, Fireheart.” He whispered to her ear. Her shoulders trembled with shivers.

Aelin tilted her head back and glanced at him, “I-”

“Where did the goat come from?”

The way she rolled her head on his chest made him realise she was way more drunk than anticipated.

“At the fair,” she sing-sang.

As she replied, Aelin moved slowly in his embrace, turning fully towards him, bracing her hands on his chest, drawing the two of them impossibly closer.

“And how— what did you…” He trailed back, not really knowing how to pose the question.

What had he meant to ask her again?

Rowan frowned, feeling drunk all of a sudden as well. He was just so confused.

He turned to the goat, not really listening to what Aelin was now mumbling against his shirt, and he noticed with crippling dread that the animal was staring right at him. It wasn’t even sitting in their direction, still posed against the counter, a hoof too close to the glass of milk to be coincidental. Only its head was turned towards them and those squared pupils were just looking straight into his soul.

“You told me to bring the goat.” Aelin grumbled then, sounding angry, and snapping his attention back to her. Her golden eyes were piercing his very heart and his hands automatically tightened around her hips. “I asked you if you were gonna be mad and you said no, so you have no right to come here and stand here looking like that-”

It was like a bucket of ice poured over him. He brought a hand to her mouth, leaning down so they were eye to eye, and he spoke every word carefully, making sure she heard.

“I told you to bring a coat. C-O-A-T. C, Ace, c!”

Her mouth gaped under his hand, and he shook his head as she started laughing hysterically.

“Oh my.”

Rowan closed his eyes briefly, before taking a deep breath and gently pushing Aelin to the side. She slid her arm around his waist as he stalked to the counter, and he couldn’t believe this was how his night was going.

As soon as the bartender, and owner of the pub, saw him approach and probably noted the stunned expression on his face, she snorted.

“I gotta say boy, when I first opened this place, I never thought I’d let anyone in with a goat.” Peig said, tilting her head to the side to take a look at Aelin, who was currently petting Mrs Flatus on the head, trying to get it to drink more of what Rowan got confirmation was milk. The old lady glanced back at him, an amused smile on her lips as she continued, “Your girlfriend here can be pretty persuasive.”

Rowan tensed, ready to deny those words, but Aelin spoke first, an equally spirited smile on her face. “I’m sure I could convince the President to let me give a speech to the world if I wanted to.”

Not even the slightest acknowledgment to the term Peig had used to describe her. And she didn’t seem bothered by it at all. Maybe she hadn’t heard it. Maybe she was just too absorbed in her new friend to have noticed-

Aelin looked at him and smiled. Her whole face lit up and she hugged him closer, pushing her cheek against his chest.

Rowan let go of a trembling breath and pulled her to him, even more, pretending his heart wasn’t beating a thousand beats per minute. Pretending that smile hadn’t just obliterated his stability.

Pretending the woman he was holding on for dear life didn’t own him thoroughly.

***

Aelin hadn’t had a headache this strong in years.

She felt like she was about to pass out again when something loud and… wet exploded in the room. She groaned, willing whatever that sound had been to never replay ever again.

And then the smell hit.

The gag forced itself up her throat and before she knew it someone was holding a bucket in front of her face. Nothing could have stopped her body from heaving into it.

“That’s what you get for getting shit-faced at a school fair and then stealing a goat.”

Rowan’s voice had always had a certain hold on her body. The way her fingers would start tingling with the desire to touch his face, his neck. Touch places she only had the courage to acknowledge in her dreams so far.

Her fists clenched around the sheets as she puked whatever was left in her stomach from the night before. A hand came down on her back, massaging between her shoulders as Rowan whispered words of encouragement to her. She couldn't really understand what he was saying, but his presence was enough for her to come down from the disgusting embarrassment she was feeling.

As soon as her body decided it was enough, she fell back down on the mattress, groaning as loud as her head allowed. It wasn’t even a moment later that a heavy weight was placed on her chest. She only had time to blink at a furry wagging tail before the goat was taken from her.

Mrs. Flatus bleated for a half a second and then the sound was muffled by something.

“Shut your cute lil’ mouth, Jesus.” Rowan yell-whispered.

Aelin couldn’t have stopped the smile from spreading over her face if she’d sold her soul to the devil.

She heard him moving around the room but still couldn’t open her eyes, her head pounding like a fresh, open wound. He was walking around, probably stalking after that pitter patter that must have been the goat’s hooves. A heartbeat later, Rowan was standing next to her bed again and was trying to make her swallow something that, according to him, was going to help her. She managed to do as he asked, then she rolled in her bed but couldn’t really find peace as the terrible taste of vomit persisted in her mouth.

She must have been drunk still because she stumbled to the bathroom like a toddler who’s still learning to walk. Rowan helped her as she used mouthwash to get rid of the disgusting taste.

As soon as she was done, she spit out everything, then quite literally launched herself on the bed and found a comfortable enough position to sleep.

When Aelin woke the second time, her headache was just bearable, but nothing she wasn’t used to. She sat up with no small amount of effort, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. The moment her room came into focus, her heart swelled.

Rowan was snoring softly on the armchair posed in the corner of her room, lips slightly parted with his head tilted to the side. He seemed so at peace—even with a goat sitting on his lap.

Even if the picture in front of her was cute as hell, and Rowan made a great goat keeper with his arms tight around the animal, Aelin shook her head, bringing a hand to her forehead.

How the fuck had she managed to steal a goat?

She vaguely remembered Lorcan helping her, making her swear she wouldn’t tell Rowan. Elide and Lysandra laughing their asses off in the front seats as she tried to push Mrs. Flatus in their car. She had glimpses of Aedion and Manon scolding them all, Dorian chatting with their new group pet and Fenrys trying to hit on a girl with the help of the goat.

Then, utter void.

She scrunched her nose as Mrs. Flatus farted in her sleep and decided the room needed some fresh air. She got up on unstable legs and wobbled to the window, opening it wide and hoping the awful smell wouldn’t permeate the rest of the apartment.

She basked in the sun for a bit, listening to the birds chirping, the wind through the leaves. Looking out to the streets and the traffic. Focusing on anything that wasn’t the man sitting behind her.

Rowan had been trouble since the very first time he’d stepped into Lysandra’s apartment and introduced himself to her.

She remembered their first meeting as if it was yesterday. The way Elide had begged Lys to bring Aelin to that party so Lorcan could bring Rowan in turn. The months of anticipation and build up that had made her anxious to finally meet someone after so many years of rejection and heartache.

Rowan had been a ray of sunshine in the midst of the endless shitstorm that was her life. He had been a warm embrace during the dark, lonely days that seemed to have become her norm.

She was thinking about the gazillions of things this man had done for her without even knowing, when Mrs. Flatus farted again. Rowan groaned, raising his head and making a grimace that was similar to a baby eating a lemon.

Aelin could not stop the laughter that rumbled in her chest. He opened his eyes, settling in his chair, his gaze going straight to her.

The little goat, probably disturbed by all that movement, jumped off his lap, running in her direction as she bleated animatedly.

She crouched down to pet her on the head, and Mrs. Flatus turned and jumped on the bed, walking around in her sheets. Aelin winced and kneeled on the duvet, hoping to make the animal calm down. Hoping the little shit wouldn’t poop on her bed.

“Dammit,” Rowan murmured.

Aelin tensed. His voice. It made her want to smash her head against a wall.

In a good way.

"I'd kind of hoped it was all a nightmare. Or that someone had drugged me and I was hallucinating,” he continued, making her nerves even more restless. It was as if someone had turned up the heat a few notches. Everything seemed to be suddenly warmer. "But no. You actually stole a goat last night."

She glanced at him, her cheeks reddening.

“I’m sorry?”

He shrugged like it was nothing, yawning. He rubbed his eyes, looking like a fever dream.

She whined and brought a hand to her face. He was so fucking precious.

“What?” He asked, his voice like gravel.

Aelin shook her head, peering at him through her fingers as Mrs. Flatus settled between her legs. She couldn’t quite tell him Oh nothing, it’s just that you’re so pretty I want to sit on your face until both of us can’t breathe anymore. No, she really couldn’t. That would have made him run for the hills.

She settled for a shrug of her own and then she frowned, realising something.

“Why are you here?”

“Well,” he started, running a hand through his already ruffled white hair. Aelin’s attention snapped to his fingers. “You were really drunk at the bar last night. I don’t know if you noticed. And you were hellbent on this goat having a good time and being taken care of.”

She scowled, “I- Of course I wanted her to have a good time. You would have left her at the bar?”

Rowan chuckled, and there was something different about him just then. The way he sagged against the back of the armchair, the look he was giving her, like he couldn’t take his eyes off her—like he didn’t want to.

He kept his calm demeanour as he replied.

“Of course not. That’s why I came home with you guys.”

Aelin bit her lip, trying to stop her smile from spreading even more.

“Go on.”

Rowan nodded, smirking knowingly. “You definitely weren’t in shape to take care of the goat and you when you got home, so we danced a bit with some dudes from Lunathion. They were fun, but we couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Fenrys hooked up with one of the girls in their group. Then you kept drinking for a while with Lys and the goat. Around 4am, I loaded you both in my car and drove you here.”

Aelin thought she’d never heard him speak for so long without interruption. She was also kinda moved he’d sprinkled that bit of gossip in the story just for her sake. She knew perfectly well he didn’t care for those kinds of things, so if he’d included it, he must have done it for her.

“And then you woke up at 7:00 to puke. I gave you some aspirin, and that was it.”

She looked at him for a few beats.

“But why?”

“I wanted to make sure Mrs. Flatus didn’t eat anything while you were passed out.” A small pause. He looked straight at her, and a thousand unsaid things passed between them. “And that you were okay.”

Aelin blinked in surprise. She passed her fingers through the goat’s fur.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered, “but thank you.”

Rowan nodded once, cracking his knuckles, something Aelin had started to notice he only did when he was under pressure. “Don’t mention it.”

When he squared his shoulders and bent his head to the side to crack his neck as well, grimacing a bit at the soreness there, she curled her lips.

“You shouldn’t have slept in the armchair. The couch would have been a better choice.” My bed, also.

“I really didn’t want to be that far from you in case you needed something.”

They’d never come close to talking about whatever they felt for each other. She’d already told him multiple times she loved him, the same way she loved Lysandra or Fenrys. And even if he’d never verbally spoken those words, he’d shown her multiple times and so many ways he did as well.

But she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. He knew.

Before she could thank him again and scold him for being dumb, he went on.

“And it didn’t feel right getting in bed with you while you were passed out.”

Aelin looked at him then, feeling bolder than ever. Her voice came out much lower than intended, “I wouldn’t have minded.”

He must have shared the same feeling, because he didn’t bat an eye as he said, “I would have, but I want you to remember the first time you fall asleep in my arms.”

She snorted, feeling her cheeks redden once more. She bent her head down, focusing on Mrs. Flatus’ little ears, stroking her neck. The goat screamed, and they both flinched at the sound.

When Aelin glanced up at him, he wore a shy smile of his own. She shook her head disbelievingly, “That was kinda lame.”

Rowan’s eyebrows snapped up. “It was, wasn’t it?”

They stared at each other for some time and then Rowan’s attention was elsewhere, but she couldn't stop looking at him. The muscles in his arms as he got up and stalked to her bed. His thighs, perfectly wrapped in those jeans Aelin loved so much, that made his ass look amazing. His hand on her duvet as he bent down, towards… Mrs. Flatus.

“Stop eating her pyjamas, you douchebaguette,” Rowan said with amusement lacing his every word. He wrapped his hands around the goat’s snout and opened her mouth. The way he’d said that insult told her it wasn’t the first time he’d used it, and the scrunched up expression Mrs. Flatus seemed to turn his way as she screamed made Aelin burst out laughing. She hadn’t even realised the goat had been munching on her clothes.

At the sound of her laugh, Rowan’s head snapped up. The smile on his face fell in a second when he noticed just how close they were. His lips parted, and released a trembling breath. Aelin’s eyes slid down to his mouth, watching intensely as he wet his lips. When she looked up again, his pupils were dilated, and the desire shining there was a fist around her heart.

“Ace–”

“Just kiss me,” she breathed out.

So, he did. As soon as Rowan’s lips touched hers, Aelin kindly pushed Mrs. Flatus away, making space for his huge figure between her bent knees.

His free hand went to her neck, slowly sliding up to her jaw until he was cupping her cheek, angling her head so that he could deepen the kiss. Everything in her lit up like he’d poured gasoline and thrown a match on her. His tongue trailed over her upper lip, and her surprised gasp as he gently laid her down was invitation enough for him.

She was lying on her back, his full bodyweight on her as they kissed and kissed, basking in the other’s touches and caresses.

They had waited long enough for this.

When Rowan finally came up for air, Aelin was sprawled on the bed, hoping to look only half as stunned as she felt. He hovered over her, his hair tousled from her fingers running and tugging through it. His eyes darted across her face—for what, Aelin didn’t know. Then, he dropped his chin to his chest and started laughing.

She watched, confused just as much as amused. “What are you laughing about?”

Rowan stopped for a second, giving her a peck on the lips and settling next to her, circling her shoulder with his arm and pulling her close.

“I can’t believe it took a goat for us to kiss.”

Aelin hid her face against his chest, mumbling something.

Rowan started tracing lines on the small of her back, leaving kisses on her hair, forehead, shoulder. Wherever he could reach, he kissed.

Aelin was about to tell him how long she’d been wanting to do it, but her phone started aggressively vibrating on her nightstand.

She groaned as she stretched to reach it without getting up.

The name on the screen made her wince in anticipation for what was about to come. She pressed accept and brought the phone to her ear.

She couldn’t even get a word out before Cassian’s voice boomed in the silent room.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Aelin looked at Rowan and grimaced. “Oops?”

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@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @tangledinmysoul @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @imagine-me @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses @rhysandswingspan @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #miscommunication for humor #friends to lovers #tog fic #throne of glass

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tomtenadia · 1 year

Text

Stranded

Good evening all,

I while ago I posted a snippet of a fic I was planning. The idea came to me after watching a Netflix mini series called Jules storm (A Christmas storm) in English. in the series a group of people get stranded at Oslo airport after a bad snow storm. For this floc I took inspiration from two characters in the series. I was watching it and realised it was a perfect Rowaelin. Rowan is the grumpy pilot and Aelin is the one keeping him company. They start as reluctant stranded passengers, until they realise the other is not too bad.

CW: it’s meant to be fluff but it has a smidge of angst and also mention of miscarriage.

I wrote a part 2 already and... if you want I might work on a further part 3 if anyone is interested.

The storm had been raging all through the night. An event that in Doranelle had been labelled as extraordinary.

All morning all Aelin heard on the tv was the news of the incredible snowstorm that had hit the land. People in Wendlyn were not prepared or used to it. It was very likely that some of them had never seen snow in all of their existences. She, on the other hand, was Terrasen born and bred and learned to walk in heavy snow since she took her first steps.

And it was because of that snow that now she was walking to the subway station instead of taking a taxi to the airport. She was going home. For good. She was closing a chapter of her life that had left her depressed, hollow and with a divorce at the age of 28.

It had been three months since that horrible morning when she woke up in blood soaked sheets and the scary realisation that there was something wrong with her pregnancy. Her husband was not at home so she had called an ambulance and was rushed to the hospital while the dreadful realisation spread in her. It was not long after that the doctor had confirmed that she had lost her baby girl.

She felt broken and hollow and alone. Her husband Chaol had showed up in the evening and while she grieved he just stood and offered little comfort.

Aelin shut down and pushed the world away while Chaol was never at home. Until one day the truth. He had been cheating on her with his secretary.

As soon as she was able to face the world again, Aelin grabbed her resolve to get out of bed and get an appointment with a divorce lawyer. A week later she strolled in his office and served him the papers. On that same day she had bought a ticket home to Terrasen and called her parents with the good news. Rhoe and Evalin had been delighted. She needed healing and felt that with her parents was the place where to start. She knew her mother had suffered with pregnancies too and she was positive she’d be the best support she could have.

Aelin tucked those thoughts away and climbed the stairs down to the subway station. Luckily Doranelle had a direct line from the city centre to the airport. She doubted that buses would be able to cope in those road conditions. She had missed the snow, the cottoned silence, the smell.

The subway was packed and arrived at destination a good thirty minutes later.

As soon as she stepped in the airport compound she felt a pang of joy. She was going home.

But the weather had other plans for her.

Rowan stopped at the big airport windows and looked at the runaways covered in deep snow. The vehicles could not clean the tarmac quickly enough, that a new layer of snow was already down again. He sighed. He had taken a flight in that very same early morning from Antica and it had been a shitty approach. He had almost asked ATC to abort the landing, but then managed to take the plane safely down without too much drama. Rowan was about to leave the crew offices when his phone rang.

“Hey.”

Rowan listened to the voice on the other side.

“ATC closed it. Good.”

His brows furrowed at the next pause “What do you mean you want to keep me on standby? Nothing is fucking moving. Doranelle is not equipped to deal with this, it will take days.”

With his right hand he pinched the bridge of his nose in pure exasperation “Fine. You owe me one. I will go and be lazy in the First class lounge.”

He closed the call and stared for a few more minutes at the airport operations grinding to a halt. The storm had even grown in intensity and the visibility was now close to zero.

He adjusted his uniform, grabbed his suitcase and walked to the lounge. Well, at least he had a big book that should last him for a while.

Aelin was still in front of the huge departure board. All flights were cancelled. The recorded voice over the tannoy kept repeating that due to extreme whether all flights will be heavily affected, please contact the airline desk. She texted her parents to let them know that she was stuck in Doranelle due to the storm. Her father replied to stay safe and that they were looking forward to have her back.

She went to check-in anyway and got rid of her heavy luggage and the assistant told her that for now the airport was closed, but she was on the list for the next available.

With a sigh she grabbed her backpack and stuffed her jacket under her arm and slowly walked to the customer service area as recommended and prepared herself for a very long wait on the airport’s chairs and numerous bored walks around the terminal.

Rowan made it to the lounge and greeted the assistants whom he knew already since he and the other pilots were regulars there when on stand down in between flights.

“Hey Ro, stuck here?”

The woman was called Lyria and according to all of his colleagues she had a thing for him.

“Yeah, looks like we are in for a long one.” He scanned his staff badge and the barriers opened for him.

The room was packed and it looked like a lot of other people had the same idea. He finally spotted an empty table and with his long legs strode there and crashed on the comfy seats with a heavy sigh. From his suitcase he pulled out his book and went to the buffet to grab some orange juice and food. He was technically still on duty so strictly no alcohol. A shame. A beer would be a dream right now.

Once back he deposited his bounty on the table and cracked open the book.

It took Aelin a good ten minutes to find the customer service desk. She was busy talking with the assistant when a tall blonde woman dropped her bag quite abruptly on the counter and pushed her aside.

“Put me on the next flight to Rifthold.”

“I am sorry ma’am, but the airport is closed and no one is going anywhere.”

The blonde woman took out her purse “I can pay, I have all the cards. Tell me a price and I will pay.”

Aelin stared at the customer assistant take a deep breath “I am sorry, but the weather does not take cards.”

The obnoxious woman grunted in annoyance “You must be one of those foreigners who stays here and don’t bother to learn the language, because you are not understanding me,” she slammed all the credit cards on the desk “Give me a ticket to Rifthold.”

The petite woman behind the desk pushed the cards away “I am sorry to disappoint you but I was born and bred in Doranelle and I can understand you perfectly.” Aelin noticed that her Wendlyn accent had become more pronounced almost as if on purpose “As I said, unless you have a direct line with the gods who control the weather, you are stuck like every other soul.”

The blonde woman took her cards back and stormed away.

“I am sorry, miss.”

Aelin shook her head and walked back to the counter “Don’t worry, you have held yourself very well. And nice touch on making your accent clear. That shut her up.”

The woman smiled “speaking of accents, you are not from here.”

Aelin gave her a timid smile “No, I am from Terrasen. Loved it here but it’s time to get home.”

The assistant started tapping on her computer “I should not really do this, but this is a shitty situation and I don’t care. Better you than her.” She passed a new ticket to Aelin “You are now upgraded to first class on your next flight which means you can enjoy the lounge. There’s food and it’s cozy.”

Aelin was speechless and almost hugged the woman “I…” words failed her “Thank you so very much. I hope the next customers will be much nicer to you. Than you, thank you.” She held the ticket closer to her heart and grabbed her stuff.

She could not believe it.

Aelin was excited at going into the first class lounge. She always travelled economy and had no idea what lay behind those doors.

At the entrance she saw barriers and stopped, unaware of what to do.

“Scan the boarding pass,” said the brunette at the desk.

Aelin followed the instructions and the automatic gates opened and took a step inside.

Rowan had grabbed his headphones and was now relaxing in peace while snacking on hummus, pitta bread and other foods offered in the lounge. He was stuck and was definitely making the most of the situation.

He was soo engrossed in his book that he did not notice the woman standing at his table and apparently talking to him.

Aelin stepped inside the lounge and was amazed. It was buzzing and at the centre there was a massive buffet table with what she discovered was free food. Technically complimentary, those people paid a first class fare, she didn’t and for an instant she felt like an intruder.

Without passing as too eager, she grabbed a tray and filled it with a few small dishes, then got a cup of coffee with a crazy amount of sugar as she liked it and started looking for a table.

The lounge was choc-a-block and there were no seats left. Getting into the first class lounge and then not finding a seat seemed like a cosmic joke. She wandered a bit until in a corner she spotted a man with silver hair occupying a four seats table all by himself. The nerve. She noticed his uniform and that he was a pilot. Aelin took a deep breath and marched to him.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

Fine, he had headphones and was reading.

Aelin waved her hand “Hey?”

Pine green eyes stared at her. The most stunning green eyes she had ever seen. And a face that promised murder.

“What?” He growled as he pulled down the headphones.

“Can I sit? The lounge is very full.”

The man in front of her exhaled a deep annoyed breath and pulled down his legs from the chairs on the other side and went back listening to the music, reading and ignoring her.

Why? Wondered Rowan as the stranger sat opposite from him. Why some people thought it was acceptable to occupy a table that is already taken? The lounge was full. She could just go back to the terminal like all of the other passengers. He was a pilot and needed his down time.

Sneakily, he looked at her and she definitely did not belong there. She was probably flying first class on mum and dad’s money. Oh yes, she was the classic naive rich brat who goes around the world and never has worked a day in her life. The man in him though, could not fail to notice that she was stunning. Her hair was almost as gold and the eyes. They were piercing blue, with a ring of gold in them. Yes, she was annoying but he could not deny the facts. She was probably the most stunning woman he had ever seen.

Rowan was busy secretly staring at her that he did not notice that the woman was talking. To him apparently. Hellas, fate had given him a chatty table partner.

“What?” Another growl.

“Is that Wendlyn airlines colours? Are you a pilot? You must be, you have the wings and the cuff-rings. Were you due to fly today?”

Rowan wondered how to murder her and how to make it look like an accident. He placed the book down, careful not to lose his spot and stared at her “Yes, princess. I am a pilot and now I am stuck here, trying to relax and I have this annoying woman ruining my day.”

Aelin glared at him “Mala save me, you are grumpy.”

In irritation, he straightened his back “I am grumpy? I landed this morning and I was due to finish. But then my boss asked me to be on standby because as soon as this hellish snowstorm is over I will have to fly out any poor irritating soul that has been stuck in this damned place.”

He was hoping that shut her up but the woman instead smiled at him “But you are taking these people home or on holiday or to work. You are helping them achieving their goal. And if they are going back home to their families, it��s a happy ending.”

Rowan’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Who was this woman? “I don’t care who these people are. For me they are a number on my manifest that I am safely carrying from A to B.”

“That’s a very cold way to see it.”

“I am sorry princess if I burst your bubble,” his tone now harsh “Next time fly with Unicorn airlines and the captain will vomit rainbows once you land.”

Aelin grabbed her coffee and tried to ignore the comments.

“You better be a good pilot, because you are a shitty human being.” Aelin stood and stormed out of the lounge and found a quiet spot in a corner of the airport. She sat down and let the tears flow. She was so tired and felt lost. Her life had been put on hold. She had a plan a goal but then all came crashing down and in the past few months she had just existed. Aelin sniffled hard. That arsehole. As if a pretty uniform allowed him to treat people like garbage. She had been trying to find positivity in the small things to cope after her post miscarriage depression. Maybe she seemed naive to strangers but it had become her coping mechanism not to plunge in the abysm of desperation once again.

She sat in silence and let the tears flow until she was spent, then grabbed her stuff and started walking. Her experience in the first class lounge had been brief and ruined by the worst pilot in Wendlyn airlines.

Knowing that she had possibly many more hours ahead Aelin started walking back and forth in the terminal, noticing all the people who, just like her, were trying to pass the time.

Her feet took her again at the end of the terminal where all the lounges were. The first class had a window on the runaways and another right on the terminal. She looked up and noticed the table she had occupied before. What she was not expecting was the silver haired pilot staring at her from the big window.

Rowan had felt bad. Yes, she was a bit naive but he had been downright rude. Maybe he really had to start to keep his grumpiness at bay. He could not remove from his mind her dejected stare at his words. He had hurt her. Of that he had no doubt. He stood and went to window to stare at all the passengers walking around the terminal and thought about her words. Those people were not just a number on a manifest. He could see their smiles at the prospect of going on holiday or home, businessmen and women itching to get off to run to their meeting. The woman was right, there were stories behind those faces. But his job was to fly them safely to their destination and to keep his cool in a crisis. Having some sort of detachment made his life easier.

His eyes scanned the busy terminal until he spotted a mane of golden hair that attracted his attention. The woman stopped and looked up. Blue eyes stared right into his soul and in that instant his right hand took a life on its own and rose waving lightly in her direction.

He saw her eyes widen at the surprise and waved back, but no smile reached her eyes. A second later he was gesturing like a madman for her to come up.

Once she moved he ran to the bar and asked something to the bartender and once ready took it to the table and then walked to the entrance of the lounge and waited for her.

Behind him he could feel Lyria’s stare but he ignored her.

The woman arrived a few minutes later and scanned her boarding card to go back in.

Rowan pointed to the table and she followed.

“A peace offering,” he indicated the warm drink on the table “the bartender assured me it’s sugary and sweet.”

Aelin looked at the drink in front of her. It was a hot chocolate with cream, marshmallows and sprinkles of various colours and a few chocolate sticks popping out.

“That’s a drink you’d get on Unicorn airlines.”

Aelin chuckled lightly “I am Aelin by the way.”

“Captain arsehole, a.k.a Rowan.”

She took a sip of the drink and it was sweet just how she loved it and noticed he only had a black coffee “no hot chocolate for you?”

He waved his hand in a dismissive motion “nah, I will leave eating unicorn stuff to you.”

The smile he gave her was very faint and Aelin wondered how he’d look with a full smile.

“So, why the peace offering?”

He played with some of the olives on a small plate “I had no right to talk to you that way.”

Aelin took a sip as an excuse to gather her thoughts “I am not a princess, or a spoiled brat travelling with her parent’s money.”

A sharp air intake left Rowan’s lips.

“Yes, you had the face. You judged me as soon as I sat down and assumed that I was all of the above.”

He stared at her and once again he noticed that veil of sadness in her. He wanted to see her smile and lit up the room.

“Bad habit,” he chuckled “You know when you get off the plane and sometimes you have the captain there too telling you good bye?” He explained hoping to light the mood “Once the plane is empty, the crew and I love to comment on some of the passengers. Nothing cruel, sometimes is to destress after a long haul flight and have a laugh.”

Aelin gave him a weak smile “anything weird?”

“Once we were flying to Melisandre and one of my crew told me that this couple had their blankets all over them. They kept an eye on them, refused in-flight meals and then half way through the flight they got to the toilet one at a time. When they disembarked they were tomato red in their faces.”

Aelin burst out laughing “Holy shit, no.”

Rowan nodded solemnly “We have a feeling they went for another type of in flight entertainment.”

“Fuck, people can be so disgusting.”

“It was a good thing it was the last flight of the day. We managed to sanitise the seats heavily.”

Aelin munched on a chocolate stick “So, is being a pilot as trendy as it seems?”

Rowan went silent. He loved flying. He did a few years in the airforce and when he left he got easily a job as commercial pilot. He already had the training and a lot of flying hours. It had been an easy transition and less traumatic. But no, definitely it lacked all the romanticised aspects “It’s a job. I love flying.”

“But you can visit so many places.”

He snorted “On a short layover I have little time. If I fly domestic routes in Wendlyn it’s very much a back and forth.” He explained, playing with his spoon “Today I should have come off the Antica flight and got home and come back tomorrow to fly out to Melisandre.”

Aelin was silent.

“I don’t get to see much of the lands I visit. I put the plane down, there’s a lot of stuff to do, then I will probably have to go through customs, although crew has priority, and most of the time I go back to the hotel, eat and sleep.”

“That sucks,” she stuffed a marshmallow in her mouth “I love airports, the buzz and the excitement of a trip.”

Rowan rolled his eyes “you have seen one, you seen them all.”

Aelin shrugged and Rowan studied her reaction “How can you always be so positive?”

He stared at her face grow dark all of a sudden while staring outside the big window.

“To cope,” she said very, very quietly.

Rowan did not miss the pain in her voice. His hand slowly moved to hers and covered it gently. When he hard her sniffle he realised there was something hurting her. And for some reason, he felt the urge to comfort this stranger who had sat down at his table on a shitty day.

“Aelin…”

She brushed her face quickly and gave him a tired smile “sorry… I am fine.”

He stared at her. She was not fine.

“I know I am the last person to whom you want to bare your soul, but I am not as a bastard as I appear.”

Aelin broke. Heavy sob escaped her and her shoulders shook. All Rowan could do was to sit at her side and pull her face to his chest and hide her from the crowd.

“Your uniform will get wet.”

“Having beautiful women cry on you is part of the job.” He hoped that the cheesy line lifted her spirits a little.

“I am twenty eight and I am moving back to my parents because my life in Doranelle went to shit,” she sobbed hard “I am divorced and I was useless as a wife.”

Rowan felt the need to hold her tight “I doubt that.”

“While I was bleeding in bed after a miscarriage, my husband was busy fucking his secretary.”

Rowan did not know the man but all of a sudden he felt the need to smash his face.

“I lost our baby and…” her sobs intensified.

“I am so sorry, damn Aelin that… must have hurt.”

“I feel like a failure.”

Rowan pulled back and grabbed her face in his hands “No, I barely know you but you cannot call yourself a failure because you lost a baby and,” he paused “if your ex made you feel so, well it’s a good thing that the bastard is gone.”

“I am sorry…” she apologised “I just dumped all my troubles on you…”

He squeezed her “sometimes it feels nice to vent to a stranger or in our case to another stranded partner.”

That made her chuckle and he relaxed at the sound.

Rowan then stood and offered her a hand “Come.”

Aelin was not sure but then accepted and grabbed her backpack and jacket.

Rowan took her hand and they started walking. She followed him in silence until he stopped in front of the multi faith chapel.

“Come.”

Aelin was puzzled and followed him inside. The room was beautiful with wooden walls and a big window.

“When it’s quite I like to come here and sit. It’s empty and I find it relaxing.”

There were wooden benches along the wall and he sat down, patting the spot at his side.

Aelin sat and closed her eyes. The place was silent and a sense of peace descended on her. She felt Rowan’s shoulder brushed hers and she inhaled his scent. Rowan smelled of pine and snow. He smelled like home.

“I am sorry I cried all over you.”

At her side Rowan sighed “I am sorry for how I treated you. I assumed things…”

“We both said horrible things.”

Rowan chuckled “We can start from scratch again.”

Aelin turned her head to him “Hi, I am Aelin.”

“Hi, I am Rowan.” They shook hands and then they fell back in silence for a moment.

Rowan turned his head to the window and stared at the snow. It was even worse “I don’t think we’ll fly today.”

They spent a few hours in the room and talked and Aelin could not believe how easy it was to talk to him. She learned he was born in Doranelle, that he had been in the airforce for a few years and then retired and joined Wendlyn airlines. He had confessed that he was not a fan of sugary stuff and Aelin had almost left him alone in the room. She would admit that he was a pleasant person to be around.

When some people came into the room they left and Rowan gave her a tour of the airport but with a personal touch and from the perspective of someone who was in there multiple times a week.

In the end, they went back to the lounge and Rowan retrieved his suitcase from the bar staff and occupied a table with two comfy sofas at each side “Looks like we managed to find a much better spot,” Aelin smiled and sat down and looked at the window that now gave them a view of the runaway.

Rowan came back a bit later with food for both and a pitcher with orange juice “Hope this is okay.”

“Is the lounge staff staying here all night?”

He nodded “yes, staff for essential shops and lounges have been asked to stay open to help all the stranded passengers.”

Aelin took her food and they had dinner and chatted happily and got to know each other a little more.

The following morning Rowan woke up after falling asleep on the sofa. He had a lovely night with Aelin and realised she was nothing like he had pictured her. She was an editor and loved books just as much as him and they had talked for hours about their favourite authors. He had never felt that connected with anyone and it felt amazing. When she fell asleep he made sure to cover her with her coat and then stared at her sleeping. Her face peaceful in her slumber.

He went to grab some coffee and noticed that the sky was a deep blue and the snowstorm had cleared. The ploughs were busy scurrying around the airport and clearing near the hubs and the main runaways. That was a good sign. He took his phone and saw that he had been allocated a flight. It was the 14:00 hrs flight to Orynth. He smiled.

Back at the table Aelin was awake and was brushing the sleep off her eyes “Morning, princess, I bring coffee.” He then smiled “look outside.”

Aelin turned her head and squealed in delight when she noticed the sun and the blue sky.

Rowan had loved that sound and the smile that burst on her face.

“Are we flying?”

“Check your phone.”

Aelin quickly grabbed her mobile and noticed a notification from her airline telling her that she was booked on the 14:00 flight to Orynth.

“Yes, my flight is at 2 p.m.”

Rowan hid his smile behind the cup of coffee.

“What about you?”

“We’ll see.”

Aelin and Rowan had exchanged numbers before going separate ways. Somehow she wanted to stay in touch with him. He had promised her to text when he was in Orynth so she could be his guide.

Now she was finally at the gate ready to board her plane. Excitement was bubbling over her. After almost 24 hrs stuck in an airport she was ready to finally go home, but a pang of sadness hit her too. She wished she had more time with Rowan.

Aelin took her seat and was giddy at being in first class. Crew brought her wine and Aelin indulged and treated herself. She heard the voice from the cockpit tell the crew to put the door on manual and cross check.

“Good afternoon, I am Rowan and I will be your captain for this flight to Orynth. We are expecting to push back in about twenty minutes as the ground crew is finishing to load your bags. Flight time is expected to be around three hours. We might encounter some turbulence over the Great Ocean and then it should be a smooth flight as far as Perranth. Current weather in Orynth is snowy, but the guys up there are more equipped than us to deal with a bit of white stuff. Local temperature is -10C which I am told is basically summer.”

Aelin giggled and the rest of the plane did the same. Rowan was taking her home and her heart raced madly.

“Now sit back and relax and let the crew look after you. I will give you updates as the flight progresses.”

“

It was three hours later when they finally landed. The flight had been bumpy, but nothing majorly scary. She had worse.

Aelin waited till everyone was off to stand from her seat. Rowan had popped out from the cockpit and was greeting the disembarking passengers.

She grabbed her belongings and walked towards the crew.

He gave her a smile.

“Thank you for the pleasant flight, captain.”

He winked at her and she exited the aircraft into the tunnel.

She was at home unpacking her suitcases when a text reached her.

I will be in Orynth for a few days. I have been given extra layover time since I was not meant to be on duty. I will need a guide. Someone told me there is a great coffee shop in the old part of the town.

Aelin smiled and texted back whoever told you that is a wise person. I need today with my parents. Can we do tomorrow?

I am on my way to my hotel to crash and sleep. I will be rested by then. Text me a time and I will find my way there.

Just be careful in the snow, you Wendlyn people cannot cope with our levels.

I will see you tomorrow, menace.

Aelin squealed in delight and in silence she thanked the weather for stranding her in airport.

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