#rowan week

[mariaofdoranelle]

Dick Awards

Rowan Week day 7: Aelin admiring Rowan

Forgive me, readers, for I have sinned

Warnings: language, NSFW (very), accidental use of hallucinogens, 64 mentions of the male genitalia and a lot of male sexual objectification

Word count: 6,8k

˜˜˜˜

Thousands of likes. Rowan had joined this out of pity, and this fucking tweet had thousands of likes already.

RULES

- No minors allowed

- DM this account your dick pic

- To avoid scams, the picture must contain #DickAwards on handwriting. Can be in any way from body paint to holding a post-it note, but digital writing won’t be allowed.

“Did you submit your dick?” Aelin said from behind his ear.

Startled, Rowan jumped on his seat and choked on his breakfast. Trying to recompose himself, he asked, “What the fuck, Ace?”

She smirked. “I’m sorry, is Rowan Junior too sensitive for this topic?”

“We’re not talking about this.”

“About the Dick Awards, Rowan Junior, or Rowan Junior in Dick Awards?”

Rowan opened his mouth and closed again, shocked by her bluntness. “Neither!”

Damn Fenrys and his stupid Twitter contest. Rowan sent a picture of his cock just to protect his friend’s feelings in case the event flopped, but it quickly became the talk of the campus. Thankfully, Aelin had no idea Fenrys was the one behind Dick Awards, neither would she know who owned each dick. One small blessing, at least.

She sat on the table and started eating the breakfast he made her, but her face was still filled with mirth. “I think you’re in the contest.”

Rowan’s pulsed immediately picked up. “How would you know that?”

Aelin leaned back and crossed her arms, a triumphant smile on her face. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, but it’s easier for you to avoid the subject than to lie to me.”

His cheeks were probably red by now, but he didn’t balk. Rowan might not know how to lie to his roommate, but he was damn good at being stubborn. “We’re not talking about this, and I have ways to make sure of it.”

Still chewing, she raised an eyebrow in question.

It was his time to lean back in triumph now. “I did buy a lot of leafy vegetables that could go into your lunchbox—“

“You wouldn’t dare!” Aelin slapped both of her hands on the table, gaping, and Rowan did his best not to smile.

Turns his effort was fruitless. He smiled, hoping he didn’t look too silly, because Rowan could never hide how he felt about Aelin, his only luck lying on the fact that she never picked up on that. Her being a picky eater was just one of the many things he’d judge if it was any other person. But since it was Aelin, he even found that habit endearing.

Aelin looked at the watch they kept in the kitchen and sighed.

“Can you make those sandwiches with the cheese spread we ate last night?”

Rowan nodded, and she got up to hug him from behind while he was still sitting. “Thanks.”

It was almost time for her to go collect some herbs Dr. Valg requested for their research. It was common sense that Maeve was a shit professor, but her work at the Doranelle’s Center for Psychedelic Medicine was groundbreaking enough for everyone to put up with her.

Rowan sunk in his seat just by the thought of having to see Maeve on the weekend. He wouldn’t usually mind the extra work, but their professor didn’t help, neither did his almost empty bank account. They were broke like every student, but he and Aelin had a better situation than most from their program because his Uncle Ellys let them live in his old apartment practically for free.

His friends always teased him for not charging Aelin to live there, but Rowan didn’t mind it. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to give her every reason possible to stay right there with him.

~~

The students had a break room with a small fridge for themselves near the lab, and it was packed with Rowan’s own lunchboxes. The extra snacks were for when he and Aelin needed to stay longer than usual, which was pretty common, but he was well aware that Fenrys often stole their food. Not that his friend tried to keep it a secret, but Rowan refused to assume he was also cooking for Fenrys, of all people.

The sandwich Aelin requested wasn’t in the fridge because she wouldn’t like if it was cold. It was the first one Fenrys went for when he arrived.

Rowan slapped his hand. “That’s Aelin’s.”

Fenrys sat on the couch near him and sighed. “I want you to be in love with me so bad.” Rowan frowned, not that it’d stop Fenrys. “I mean, I’d get free rent, a free cook—“

“That’s enough—“

“You even have a great dick, not that she’s using that for anything—“

“That’s. Enough,” Rowan said through gritted teeth this time, his voice a lot more stern.

Fenrys’s eyes went wide. “Dude! You have a great shaft. Why are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking of the quickest way to change the subject in a way that wouldn’t encourage Fenrys to annoy him further.

His friend snickered and continued, “It’s about Aelin, then. Now you should be embarrassed. She’s been into you forever, man.”

Rowan sat on the couch too and sighed, knowing his friend would never let him be. About anything. “How could you even know that?”

“Because I know chicks. I know how they work.”

“No, you know how their vaginas work.”

“That too!” He winked. “I have many talents, Buzzard.”

Rowan narrowed his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

Fenrys smirked, a smart remark on the tip of his tongue, when Rowan beat him to it.

“How’s Dick Awards?”

Just like that, Fenrys’ thoughts switched paths.

“It’s great, man! I was doing just one thing, like the Miss Doranelle of dicks, but now there’s so many people I need to divide them into categories.”

Rowan snorted. “Like the Oscars of dicks?”

“Exactly!” And then he snatched his phone to show the preparations for the contest. Rowan had to give it to him, that level of organization was very unusual for Fenrys, his friend was fully dedicated to Dick Awards.

“Us dudes need to hype each other’s dicks up, man. Like that sisterhood thing, but for bros.”

Rowan snorted. Fenrys probably gathered that from one of the times Aelin lectured him about feminism. At least he was listening.

“I don’t need my dick being hyped up by another guy.”

“You shouldn’t open Twitter tomorrow, then,” Fen said with a troublesome smirk.

He paled. He wasn’t expecting all that repercussion from the event. To have the whole campus commenting on his cock, even if they didn’t know it was his. Definitely not on his bucket list. But Rowan had already sent his pic and consented to this, so he wouldn’t balk. He knew Fenrys would understand if he backed away, but it wasn’t like Rowan to back out after everything was said and done.

He was lost in his thoughts while Fen showed him his preparations. Large Dicks, Dicks on Steroids, In the Shower, Dicks With a Costume. Fenrys showed him every category imaginable, which made him wonder which one Rowan was in. His picture was pretty standard if compared to some dudes who did costumes, body art or special lightning.

“Which category is that?” Rowan asked when he saw a few cocks that looked... interesting.

“Cute dicks.”

Rowan’s eyebrows went wide “Is that your idea of hyping guys up?”

“Don’t worry, man. I have great plans for your dick.”

“Why do you have plans for Rowan’s dick?”

The two of them jumped on their seats, startled by Aelin’s sudden appearance.

Rowan’s heartbeat was racing. Where the fuck did she come from?

None of them knew what to say, and Aelin soon gathered that this conversation wasn’t meant for her to hear. Weary, she came closer, her eyes trained on them, until she snatched her sandwich and left the room.

This whole situation was far too awkward for any of them to utter a word.

Fenrys snorted a beat after Aelin closed the door. “I’d pay good money to be in her head right now.”

Cursing, Rowan got up and went after her. He had no idea how to explain whatever she was thinking, or even if he had an explanation for that. But he was almost sure she got upset, so Rowan needed to do something about it. That was how he worked.

Aelin was sitting on the large table on the lab, unwrapping her sandwich. He approached her, still not knowing what to say, and cleared his throat.

“Fireheart, I’m—“

“You don’t need to explain, really,” she answered with a smile, but something about it was off.

Rowan carefully weighted his options. Biting the inside of his cheek, he was damn sure he didn’t want her to learn about his participation in Dick Awards. But on the other hand, he hated to see her upset, and he now had a feeling he knew why she was like this. They never kept secrets from each other. Except for that one thing, that is.

He sighed, his mind made up and knowing he was doomed either way. “You can ask.”

Aelin bit his lip and looked down for a little before asking, “Are you and Fenrys...?”

“What?” He asked wide-eyed and slowly shook his head, confused. “You know I’m not into guys.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to... discover yourself after Fenrys.”

Aelin gently bit her sandwich, and Rowan could cry at how adorable she looked with those furrowed eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

“We’re not together. It’s not a...” He took a deep breath, hoping his cheeks weren’t too red too. “It’s a brohood thing” Rowan almost choked the last words out, recalling Fenrys’ sisterhood justification for Dick Awards.

Aelin choked on her own laughter and began to cough as an attempt to hide it. “He has great plans for your dick because you’re best bros?”

He slowly nodded, completely defeated. “That’s right.”

“Okay...” She took a deep breath to recompose herself. “I’m not sure I want to ask further.”

His cheeks flushed with the realization of what he just implied. What did she think Fenrys was going to do with Rowan’s cock? He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. He wouldn’t be keeping his dignity either way, so it was best to give up now that Aelin seemed pleased his answer.

Rowan could question why she was suddenly so interested in his sexual activities, but hoping once more would be too much for today. He sighed, tired of his own feelings, and quickly went back to the break room to grab something to eat.

Rowan always kept many lunchboxes ready for when they needed to stay late in the lab, so he just picked the first one he saw on the fridge and went back to eat it while he read some articles that’d help with his research.

The taste was a bit off and he wondered if it had gone bad, but Rowan was too upset to care about that.

He was reading and making a few notes when he noted one of the authors had a funny writing. Something about his choice of words had him quietly giggling.

“Ro, are you okay?” Aelin asked with furrowed eyebrows.

He smiled to soothe her worries. “Easy-breezy.”

She snorted and went back to work, and so did he.

Until he noticed a few of the pages were green. He didn’t see it when he first got the magazines, but he kinda liked this change. Green was a nice page color. Rowan looked at Aelin, and his Fireheart looked smokin’ hot with her hair all... hairy and her funny nose scrunched up in concentration. God, he loved the shit out of her.

Trying to get her attention, he threw a pencil at her. His aim wasn’t the best, but it was enough for her to notice him.

“What the fuck, Ro?”

“Did you like the green pages?”

She tilted her head. “What green pages?”

He smiled and turned the magazine so she could see. “The new green pages!”

Aelin’s eyes were so wide they looked funny. “They’re white.”

Rowan giggled. It was so her to prank him like this.

She slowly got up and walked towards him. Aelin looked around his desk and carefully studied his face. She was mostly tugging at his eyelids and moving his face around, but Rowan didn’t mind it. Her fingertips on his face were worth the not so gentle inspection.

“Did...” She looked around and whispered, “Did Fenrys give you a pot cookie?”

Rowan shook his head. “Don’t need, thanks. Just had a salad.”

She had both hands on her hips when Fenrys came in.

“Hey, Ace. I can’t find the herbs we collected today.”

Aelin sighed. “I put them in the...” and she frowned. And looked at Rowan’s empty lunchbox. Then looked at Fenrys again. Now she was gaping, and her eyes were wide as saucers. “Fucking Mala.”

Fenrys tilted his head.

“I think...” she swallowed. “I think Rowan ate them.”

His friend gaped, and then started cackling so much it made Rowan giggle too. He liked Fenrys. Fenrys was fun. Not as fun as Aelin, but the boyo was cool.

“Are you telling me Rowan ate all of the hallucinogenic herbs for the research?”

She slowly nodded, but her shoulders were shaking, and then she started laughing too. They had a good moment of just laughing together, but then they heard high heels against the floor that made his friends freeze.

“What’s going on?” Dr. Valg barged into the room and asked between gritted teeth.

Fenrys began to give her a report about his tasks, and Aelin supplied with intakes here and there. Rowan just stayed sat, minding his own business. One would think he was reading his articles, but he was actually admiring the table. Now it was green too. It looked pretty, he thought.

“Okay, bring me the herbs.”

Fenrys swallowed. “They’re not available.”

Maeve pinched the bridge of her nose. “You just gave me a detailed report about bringing them.”

“Um.” Aelin cleared her throat and pointed at Rowan. “He ate them. Accidentally.”

“Are you telling me that Whitethorn.” Maeve took a deep breath and fisted her hands. “Whitethorn got high on my herbs, and you let him stay close to the very expensive equipment?”

He was watching it with an amused smile, but his friends were looking down and exchanging worried glances. He wondered why. Seeing Maeve upset was so fun. Without saying a thing, just the sight of her face gave him a good giggle.

Maeve’s face snapped back at him and she strode his way.

“Whitethorn! What the hell were you thinking?”

He tilted his head, confused.

She snapped her fingers. “Aren’t you Whitethorn?”

“Me?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “What’s your name again? I can never remember it.”

He frowned. That was a good question. He didn’t remember his name.

“I don’t know my name.”

Both Aelin and Fenrys hovered closer, their eyebrows pinched.

“What do you mean you don’t know your name?” Maeve asked through clenched teeth.

Aelin quaked, “Rowan, tell her your name!”

“But I don’t know my name!”

“Your name!” Maeve screamed.

He seethed, his eyes bulging. “I. Don’t. Know!”

Fenrys began to gesticulate a lot, a telltale sign of his worried state. “YOUR NAME’S ROWAN!”

“WHO’S ROWAN?”

“YOU’RE ROWAN!”

“IS THAT A RIDDLE?”

“OKAY, ENOUGH!” Aelin interrupted his and Fenrys’ shouting match by shouting stronger.

Confused by the commotion, Rowan screamed, “WHY IS EVERYONE SCREAMING?”

“Because you can’t remember your fucking name!” Maeve said in an impatient tone, the veins on her forehead bulging.

“Oh.” He blinked. “It’s Rowan.”

They let out a collective sigh, and Aelin was the one who broke the silence.

“How are you feeling?”

“Green.”

Maeve rolled her eyes, but it was true. Everything was green.

“Can anyone here who knows where Whitethorn lives take him home?”

“I can take him, we live together,” Aelin said while approaching Rowan’s desk to collect his things.

“Oh.” Maeve raised her eyebrows. “That’s not surprising.”

She winced. “Not like that! I mean—“

Maeve waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t care, just take him.”

˜˜

There was a reason why Rowan was usually the one to drive.

Aelin liked to drive fast. Always cutting her way between the other cars and announcing too late that she was going to make a turn. But now that he thought about it, it was kinda cool. Rowan felt like he was in an action movie of sorts. It didn’t help with the dizziness he was feeling, but that part wasn’t Aelin’s fault.

There was something he needed to talk about with her, but Rowan couldn’t quite grasp what it was. He was trying to remember everything that happened today, until it clicked.

“I’m not letting Fenrys go anywhere near my dick, you know.” He leaned back on the seat and closed his eyes. “I wish I could tell you, but we decided to keep it a secret.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “That’s fine, you really don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Aelin said in a defeated tone.

“We’re not having an affair!” He knew he’d decided not to tell her, but fuck that. Aelin was his best friend. She could know anything she wanted to. “Fenrys is the mind behind Dick Awards. I’m in the contest. That’s what we were talking about.”

Aelin’s eyes went wide, her arms rigid as she gripped the steering wheel. “You’re joking.”

Rowan giggled. “I wish I was.”

Her mouth opened and she seemed to freeze, until a harsh burst of air left her mouth, and Aelin laughed so much she was fighting to properly drive while her body tried to double over. Intoxicated by her howls, Rowan was laughing along.

The car stopped moving, and Aelin took a deep breath to recompose herself. She unfastened Rowan’s seatbelt, probably because he was a little confused by it earlier, and asked, “Are you ready to be forced into a nap, Buzzard?”

He grunted and let himself be led inside the building.

Rowan mentioned to cook something for them, but Aelin shoved a cereal bar into his hands before he could do anything. He didn’t understand why she wouldn’t let him cook. He was perfectly fine, apart from a few remaining green spots in his vision. But if that was what she wanted, he could oblige for one afternoon.

She took him to his bedroom and gave him a change of clothes from his drawers, turning around and closing the curtains while he changed.

Rowan was already laid down when she sat by his side to say something, but he beat her to it.

“Did I ever tell you your eyes are prettier than the Blue Ribbon Eel?”

She smiled. “That’s your favorite eel.”

“But I still prefer your eyes.” And then this admission made his eyes widen. He didn’t want Aelin to think his feelings depended on her eyes. “I mean, not that you really need them. I’d still like you if you had no eyes.”

Chuckling, Aelin said, “Thanks! it’s good to know I’ll have someone to walk me around if I lose them.”

“I’ll happily walk you around anywhere. It’s my job.”

Aelin’s laughter abruptly ceased. “What do you mean?”

He had a blissful smile. “I knew we were soulmates even in grad school.” Looking deep inside her eyes, Rowan continued, “When you told me your favorite species of eel is the one I have tattooed.”

That earned him a smile, but something about it was off. “You’re high.”

He frowned. “But I still love the Blue Ribbon Eel—and you.”

Rowan noticed her eyes started watering, but she blinked it back. He frowned. That was not the response he was waiting for.

“Did I make you upset?”

Aelin kissed his cheek and tucked him in his covers. “I’m gonna let you sleep now.”

~~

Before Rowan opened his eyes, he already knew his head was pounding. Besides, the loud voices outside weren’t helping.

He risked taking a look at his phone, grimacing because of the light, but he saw it was already Sunday morning. Which meant he had slept for Mala knows how long.

His phone was filled with notifications, but the only thing he opened was the texts from Aelin.

>> hey buzzard

>> lys is coming over so we can vote on some dicks together

>> there’s water, meds and some crackers on your desk xx

Rowan slowly, very slowly came to a sitting position and saw everything was near his laptop, on top of some books. He ate and immediately went back to bed, staying until the painkillers kicked in.

Rowan managed to take a bath without being noticed and stayed in his bedroom, rereading the same paragraph over and over again. The loud voices were still bothering him, but he didn’t have a headache anymore. Rowan just couldn’t get past the fact that his best friend was ten steps away, commenting on other men’s dicks with her friend.

Putting the book down, Rowan could hear the muffled sounds of a heated argument, so his curiosity got the best of him, and he went to see what was going on.

“Are you kidding me? Look at 350’s proportions! Length, girth, ball size, everything!” He could feel Aelin’s agitation just by the sound of her voice.

“I’m not a fan of the veins, though,” Lys argued back.

“How dare you.”

“I prefer dick 72.”

“Ew!” Aelin yelled, too wrapped up in the argument to notice his arrival.

Lysandra leaned back on the couch and smirked. “Come on, Ace. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t pounce on that.”

“That’s the fucking point!” Aelin opened her arms and got up from the couch. “This is Dick of the Year, being pounceable is already required. So, would I pounce on dick 72? Sure. But this?” She pointed at the TV. “I would sell my soul to pounce on that dick.”

And when Rowan looked at the direction Aelin was pointing, he saw his own dick displayed on the TV.

Every muscle he had felt tight, his chest included, and that was exactly when Aelin noticed his presence. She gaped at the same time Lys started cackling, completely different reactions to his discover of Aelin’s enthusiasm.

Aelin’s cheeks turned crimson, but she didn’t balk. She showed him both pictures on the TV and said, “We need your input.”

Rowan’s mouth opened and closed again, before he walked away, shouting on his way, “I’m not commenting on other guys’ dicks!”

He closed the door a little more harshly than intended and got the hell out of his apartment.

I would sell my soul to pounce on that dick.

Rowan walked around the block, completely lost in his own thoughts. All of them running around the same sentence.

I would sell my soul to pounce on that dick.

He knew she didn’t mean it. He knew this contest didn’t mean anything, that this was an overstate. Still, hearing this from the girl he had been lusting after for years. Rowan had no idea how to feel.

I would sell my soul to pounce on that dick.

He went window shopping around the neighborhood, bought some tea, sat on the park. Still, her words couldn’t leave his head.

Worse, they could’t leave the incessant rise of Rowan’s length against his pants. Each time he forced to think of something else, this situation only got worse.

I would sell my soul to pounce on that dick.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to go home. Rowan didn’t even know the time because he forgot his phone, but this situation was unbearable. Completely, utterly unbearable.

The first thing Rowan noticed when he arrived home was that the girls weren’t in the living room anymore. Neither could he hear anything. A quick look at his phone told him they went to a bakery nearby, and Rowan’s posture immediately slumped.

He knew what he was about to do, and he didn’t like it. Actually, he liked it very much, which only made his guilt worse.

Rowan always felt bad after touching himself with Aelin in his mind, but whenever he did it, she found a way to sneak into his every fantasy. And the worst of all, every time she did, things were never soft.

He ran a shaky hand through his head. Aelin deserved so much better than living with a guy who fantasized unspeakable things about her while she was reading a book in the next room. Rowan couldn’t even remember the last time he actually felt lighter after an orgasm, but his underwear was unbearably tight, and he still couldn’t get over what she said earlier today.

I would sell my soul to pounce on that dick, her words from before ringing inside his head like an annoying ad jingle.

Rowan unfastened his clothes and sat on the edge of the bed, his head tipped back. If only he could tell her—

He couldn’t.

Feeling the precum glistening already, Rowan slowly stroked himself, from the tip to the hilt, squeezing his fingers around his base. He took a shaky breath, closed his eyes and let himself imagine.

Aelin was in the kitchen, wearing nothing but his shirt, because that was something she did. Rowan approached her from behind, kissing her neck, because that was something he did. He let a possessive hand slowly wander around her legs, because it was only fair after teasing him so much with them. When it got dangerously close to the spot she loved, Aelin turned around and sent him a sultry smile.

Rowan began to twist his hand while he pumped himself, but he was still going slow. He wanted to drag this one out.

After carrying Aelin to his bed, he dropped her there and didn’t spare a second before laying on top of her and kissing her whole. Rowan trailed luscious, passionate kisses, starting on her lips until he closed his mouth around her nipple. Eager, Aelin wrapped her legs around him and rubbed herself against him.

“Cocktease.”

She did it again and moaned. “You love it.”

And damn him, he did. Impatient, Rowan started to give wet kisses on the valley between her breasts. Aelin immediately picked up his intentions and tugged on the roots of his hair.

“Are you getting me ready for you, love?”

He went back to her lips for a moment, but Aelin soon guided him back to her breasts. He was lucky his girlfriend was just as insatiable.

Impatient, Aelin got up and kneeled beside the bed, looking up at him from below her lashes and thrusting out her breasts as an invitation.

With increasingly quicker pumps now, Rowan squeezed his eyes shut. He thrusted into his own hand and finally stroked himself on the speed he wanted.

Rowan sat on the edge of the bed, in front of her. Aelin immediately grabbed his cock and licked it, brushing her lips against it every now and then. He thrusted into her hand, and she started to rub his cock against her breasts, finding a different way to tease him.

She didn’t stop when Rowan grabbed a fistful of her hair, moaning as he tugged it a little too harshly.

“Baby...” he warned.

Smirking, she placed his length on her cleavage. Closing her breasts around his cock, Aelin made some up and down movements, but mostly just let him fuck them.

He closed his eyes and groaned. Sliding his cock between Aelin’s soft breasts never failed to make him dissolve into pleasure. His body was on fire, muscles so tight they could snap. Their rhythm picked up, and Aelin tilted her head down so she could suck the tip of his cock as well.

She couldn’t speak, but Aelin’s moans sounded delicious when he could feel them around his cock. Almost delirious, Rowan held her head and called out her pet name like a prayer.

Fireheart

Fireheart

Fireheart

“Rowan, did you call—“

Rowan froze mid-pump, not believing what his eyes were seeing.

Not believing Aelin had just caught him with a hand on his own dick. Moaning her name, as it seemed.

His heartbeat was so strong Rowan could feel it in his throat. Two sets of bulged eyes stared at each other, not knowing what to say.

When his mind mildly processed the situation he was in, Rowan quickly threw a blanket over his lap.

“Aelin, I’m—“

“Oh, God!” She covered her eyes a bit too late. “I’m so, so sorry—“

“You don’t—“

Before he could apologize, Aelin banged the door closed and left.

Rowan felt flat on his bed, grimacing and running a hand through his face. He wanted to die. He wanted to erase this weekend from his life. He wanted to shift into a Hawk and fly the hell away from here. God, he had no idea how he’d face Aelin—

His door opened again and Aelin eyed his covered self, cheeks flushed.

“What were you thinking?”

Rowan sat and his pulse skyrocketed once again. Too paralyzed by the situation to utter a single word, the only thing he could bring himself to do was to avoid her gaze.

Aelin softly closed the door behind her. “I mean, what were you thinking about?” She asked while slowly walking his way until they were dangerously close.

“You.” He wanted to thread carefully there, but his hoarse voice might’ve betrayed him.

She hummed. “Did I get to kiss you?” Aelin asked with a tilted head, her voice in a tone Rowan hadn’t heard yet, but was starting to like very much.

“So much.” Rowan’s gaze finally met hers, his breathing fast for many different reasons.

Her hand was on its way to his shoulder when she retreated and bit her lip. “Can I?”

Rowan sneaked a shaky hand behind her neck to pull her closer, but their lips ended up meeting halfway.

Aelin’s lips were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

It started hesitant, both of them not sure of themselves right away. But when Aelin softly sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, Rowan tugged on her waist and she opened her mouth further, letting him in. Their tongues went on a long and slow pace at first, but it didn’t take long for their kiss to become crushing.

When Rowan felt her completely melt into his touch, he pulled her towards the bed. Mostly because their position wasn’t the most comfortable, but he was also ready for more if that’s what she wanted. But even if they just kissed until bedtime, it’d still be one of the best nights of his life.

Like an answer to his thoughts, Aelin took off her clothes, staying in just her lingerie.

Her red, lacy lingerie.

Rowan almost jumped on top of her, kissing her neck and collarbones while grabbing her curves in a bruising manner. He had completely lost control over himself, but Aelin didn’t seem to mind, moaning when he pinched her nipple through the flimsy fabric.

“Ro?”

He hummed, paying only half attention because he’d just found out he liked playing with her body a little too much.

“I want you to do to me what you were thinking about earlier.”

Resting their foreheads together, he gave himself a second to think. They were just breathing each other’s air, but it was still distracting enough for him. Rowan sighed. He had one chance to make her see… him. He’d not ruin it with his kinky shit.

“I’d rather do something you like, if that’s okay.”

Aelin’s smirk built slowly, until she was grinning like Hellas himself. “It was dirty, wasn’t it?”

Once again, his inability to lie to Aelin was biting him in the ass. If it was possible for him to get any more flushed, he definitely did. Staying silent was the most he could do to protect his dignity, but that was answer enough for Aelin.

However, instead of mocking him like she usually did, she tugged his face back to hers and gave him a languorous, wet kiss.

“You won’t tell me, but I can still guess.” She had a sultry grin on. “We weren’t in missionary, were we?” Aelin said right before flipping them around, straddling him.

The element of surprise was enough for her to throw his larger body into the bed. Her hair was cascading down her sides as she looked at Rowan with a predatory gaze. Said gaze went down, until—

“Dear Mala.” Her eyes widened. “You’re the Dick of the Year.”

Her mouth opened and closed, her cheeks becoming a richer shade of red. Aelin Galathynius looking flustered. Now, that was a rare sight.

“And you heard me.” Her eyes snapped back to his face. “You heard everything.”

“Hey.” Rowan sat too, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “At least you didn’t need to sell your soul for it.”

She did something between gaping and laughing at him and playfully swatted his chest. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

Rowan chuckled and cupped her cheek with one hand, gently caressing it with his thumb. “You caught me jerking off, I caught you praising my cock. It’s pretty balanced for me.”

Laughing brightly, Aelin’s shoulders were shaking, and she rested her forehead on his. He kissed the crown of her head and then she turned her mouth to him, the kiss soft this time. Until it wasn’t anymore.

“Where were we?” Rowan asked when she began giving attention to his neck.

“You were telling me all your fetishes about me.”

He groaned, regretting his last sentence as Aelin breathlessly chuckled. She placed both hands on his shoulders to go to a sitting position while keeping him down. Her golden hair cascaded on her sides as the hands on his shoulders slid down his body.

Unclasping her bra, Aelin purred, “Was I putting on a show for you?”

Rowan gulped, enthralled. “You could say so.”

She slowly slid her bra down, teasing him. When she finally took off that flimsy lace, Rowan’s skin was prickling with the urge to touch her. Taste her further. Aelin was doing unspeakable things to him and she was well aware of it, if her cocky smile was any indication.

When he tried to touch her, she slapped his hands away.

“Baby...”

She bit her lip. “I’ll be nice, then.”

Aelin took his hand and guided it through her body. Their intertwined hands sensually slid through her hips, waist, the curve of her breast, until she took his thumb inside her mouth and sucked it.

He closed his eyes, trying not to lose composure. “You’re killing me.”

She sucked his thumb one last time before taking it off her mouth. “I know.” Aelin gave his wet finger a pointed look before asking, “Do you know where this goes?”

Rowan trailed down the same path with his hand, until he pressed his wet thumb against her clit without ceremony. “In here?”

Whimpering, Aelin arched her back and swayed her hips to chase the friction. Then she took his wet thumb away from her core and placed it on her nipple. “Not yet.”

“You like to make me wait, don’t you?” Rowan was so impatient he could cry, but at the same time letting her take the lead was a lot more arousing than he thought it would be.

“You made me wait for years, Ro.” She mentioned to take her panties away, but Rowan ripped them in two before she could barely move. Aelin moaned, and that was the first time he realized she might be as eager as him to get this over with. Still, she continued, “It’s only fair.”

Rowan focused back on his assigned spot on her breast. He wouldn’t let her get away with the teasing that easily, though. His caresses started being more rough, until he pinched her nipple with two fingers, making her cry out.

In response, Aelin nestled his cock between her folds, grinding herself against it. Rowan was searing, and he was afraid he’d combust if she kept playing with him like this. He got the closest to a sitting position he could, one hand holding himself upright and the other cradling the back of Aelin’s neck.

“Baby.” He tried to kiss her, but it got sloppy since both of their hips were still moving. “Please.”

She moaned into his mouth and then nodded, leaning away a little so she could align the two of them. Aelin took her time to slide herself down, getting adjusted on her way. Both of them moaned the whole time, and when Aelin sunk into the hilt of his cock, Rowan got so light-headed he thought he might faint.

When she started moving, he soon became overwhelmed with pleasure in a way he couldn’t quite grasp. Rowan had one hand holding himself upright and the other gripping Aelin’s waist. She had her back arched, boobs bouncing as she chased her high. Both of their hips were in a frenzied rhythm, but the sight of her alone was enough to put his nerves on fire.

Aelin’s insides began to squeeze his cock, so he leaned on both arms now to thrust into her with more force. She screamed, her legs beginning to tremble, but she kept the pace, and so did he.

Rowan could feel himself ready to snap when Aelin screamed his name one last time. She went still except for the walls clenching around him, and her loud moans became soft whimpers. Rowan’s gut tightened straight after, and his hips jerked until he spilled himself into her.

They laid side to side on the bed, catching their breaths and not uttering a single word.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

He was terrified, his heartbeat picking up once again. Still, he scooted closer. And closer. Until he could wrap an arm around her. She didn’t do anything, and that’s when his desire to become a hawk and fly away came back. Rowan gave her a sideways glance, and she was already looking at him. At first he was startled by her extra flushed skin, but then he remembered it was because they just had sex. Which made him panic even more.

But when he was scrambling his mind for something to say, she sneaked a hand around his torso and sighed, resting her face on his shoulders. Rowan’s whole body relaxed, and he didn’t hide his silly grin.

There were many things going on his head right now, but all of them ran around the fact that he was cuddling in bed with Aelin. Sweaty and naked. Rowan kissed her head and she softly hummed in response.

“That was...”

He gently squeezed her. “I know.”

“I’m so spent.”

“Me too.”

She looked up at him, biting back a smile. “Round two in a few?”

Rowan chuckled. “You’re always reading my mind.”

Smiling, she nuzzled her face against his neck. Rowan embraced her a little more tighter. God, he’d never leave this moment if he could.

“Did you know there are people spreading wanted signs of your cock?”

Just like that, Rowan’s post-sex bliss came to halt. “You’re lying.”

Instead of replying, Aelin quickly grabbed her phone and showed him the picture.

WANTED: DICK 350

Right before the dick picture he took himself.

More than a hundred retweets.

Rowan was going to kill himself. Or shift into a hawk and fly away, whichever was easier.

However, Aelin’s giggles brought him back to reality. “You’re blushing.”

Rowan groaned, and then took a deep breath, turning his whole body towards her.

“How do you feel about that?”

Aelin shrugged. “I can’t control the internet.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, scrambling his mind for a way to make her understand he wasn’t only asking about the pic—

“Oh.” Aelin’s eyebrows raised as something clicked for her, and she bit his lips while running a possessive hand around his abs. “But, you know, I can be very selfish.”

Rowan’s smile was blinding when the only thing he managed to say was, “Yeah?”

She nodded, beaming too, when their mouths were an inch away.

“Good.” He flipped them, staying on top this time. Both of Rowan’s hands ran through her inner thighs, opening them for him, and he didn’t care if his touch was possessive enough to bruise. He could think of many ways to apologize later.

Aelin was writhing for her hips to get closer to him, Rowan’s breaths fanning against her core, when he rasped, “I don’t like to share either.”

A/N: Just to be clear, I didn’t create Dick Awards. It’s actually a national Twitter treasure, and I’ve been voting for it since high school.

2nd A/N: If you were on the LDRV Facebook group around 2015 and recognized my hints of the tá tudo verde viral post, we’re instant friends.

TAG LIST

@autumnbabylon

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@leiawritesstories

@rowanaelinn

@thegreyj

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #throne of glass au #rowan week #dick awards #pinto awards

[shyvioletcat]

It Takes Two: Story Time

~ Rowan Week: Day Four - When Aelin is Away ~

Okay, i know this isn’t the bonus chapter you’ve been waiting for. This is just something short and sweet for Rowan week, the other one is still coming along because it is not short. Anyway, please enjoy this too and accept my apologies. 

~~~~~

And you’re sure you’re fine?”

Rowan smiled at fiancé’s face, fretful and worried. The question wasn’t directed at his capabilities, but rather at Aelin’s own concerns that she had forgotten something or left something undone. She hadn’t, she’d spent a full week preparing for this, Rowan had watched her go over the literal list she had made at least three times. And still even over the phone her slight panic was very obvious. It was her first night away from Elsie and Aelin was having some separation anxiety. 

“We’re absolutely fine, aren’t we bub?” Rowan asked his daughter who was cradled in the arm that wasn’t holding the phone, going cross eyed as she stared at her fist. 

Aelin sighed. “I know you are, I just…”

Her voice faded out as her top teeth worried at her lip. 

“I know,” Rowan said soothingly. “And I promise if we need you I’ll call. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself.”

“We’re at a beach house at the very end of winter, there isn’t much to do,” Aelin complained halfheartedly. 

For her birthday Elide had wanted to take a little getaway to the coast, just two nights for a short weekend just for a breather away from the city. She’d asked both Aelin and Lysandra to come. Aelin had fought it for a while, naming Elsie as the cause for her hesitancy. It had taken a group effort to convince Aelin she should go, and they got there. Rowan just knew there would be a lot of phone calls and check-ins, all of which he was willing to answer. 

“I know you took at least three books with you, why don’t you start with those,” Rowan suggested. 

Aelin’s lips curled into a small smile. “I suppose.” Reading was a luxury she didn’t have much time for at the moment. 

“There you go, Fireheart. Elsie and I will be fine, except for missing you of course.”

“And you’re sure I left enough milk,” Aelin added hastily. 

Rowan couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Aelin, yes. There’s enough milk there for a week.”

“She could go through a growth spurt and could get hungry,” Aelin defended. 

“You’re right, and you did such a good job of prepping that I’ll be more than prepared,” he told her. 

Off screen either Elide or Lysandra, he couldn’t tell, called for dinner. Rowan watched the conflict play out on Aelin’s face. 

“I’m going to have to hang up first, aren’t I?” Rowan teased. Aelin gave him a look that told him if she was there he would have received a swift flick to his nose. 

“I’ll just say goodnight and then I’ll go,” Aelin promised. 

Rowan dropped the phone so that it was in front of Elsie’s face and hopefully she would focus on her mother. Rowan watched as the infant’s focus did shift and caught on Aelin’s face. Aelin saw it too, a wide smile lighting up her features. 

“Hey there, Elsie. Gods I miss you,” Aelin said, the baby just kicked out her feet. At four months old there wasn’t much else she could do. “I love you and I’ll see you in a couple of days. You be good for Da, bye bye Elsie.”

Aelin finished by blowing a kiss and Rowan took Elsie’s little fist and mined the same. When he brought the phone closer to his face he saw tears in Aelin’s eyes. 

“Hey—“

“I’m being silly,” Aelin cut in. “It’s just a couple of nights, it’s nothing.”

“You’re not being silly,” Rowan assured her. “With… everything it makes sense that you’d be anxious, love. I’m so proud of you for going and making sure we’re all looked after here.”

Even though it had been months it was still hard for them to talk about the accident directly. They would get there eventually, but some days it was best to tread lightly. When Aelin quickly wiped away a tear, Rowan knew it was one of those days.

“Well, I should go. My dinner will either get cold or eaten,” Aelin said. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. I’ll call you in the morning,” Rowan said. 

Aelin gave him her bravest smile, acting like reassurance for them both. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Rowan hung up and sighed, sad to see Aelin go. It was time to put Elsie down for the night and after that he’d be alone—something he’d become unaccustomed to. Taking Elsie to the bedroom he did the change and the bottle, and when she was in that post milk haze Rowan wrapped her in a swaddle. Then he gently rubbed a hand over her stomach as she lay in the bassinet that was still next to Aelin’s side of the bed. Elsie tried to fight it, her eyes were rolling under her eyelids, but she was far too content to last much longer. When Rowan was sure she was asleep he withdrew his hand but just watched her for a few moments more. 

Gods, he loved his daughter so much. If he wasn’t hungry and had a kitchen to clean he might have watched for an undetermined amount of time. It was a very easy pastime to get lost in.

But he left, eventually, made himself some chicken and steamed vegetables and sat down to eat in front of the TV. He left it on while he cleaned up after dinner, finding the otherwise silent apartment a little lonely. There was always some kind of noise when Aelin was there, there always had been. It was one of his first complaints about his new roommate way back when she had first moved in. What had once grated on him now was a comfort. It also made him realise that he and Aelin hadn’t been apart in months either. They’d been in that newborn bubble for a while and it had extended well past that stage now. Elsie was four months old, and they’d had nights out without her thanks to their friends and there was work of course. At the end of the night they had always slept side by side, the three of them in the room. But Rowan hadn’t seen Aelin in 12 hours. This was a new record. 

Done with the kitchen Rowan had just sat down again when he thought he’d heard a noise. He left it, then it happened again and he muted the TV to hear it better. There was a very distinct cooing coming from his bedroom. Smiling, he turned the TV off and went to investigate. The bedside lamp on his side of the bed provided enough light for him to see that Elsie was wide awake, wriggling against the restraints of the swaddle. She was talking to herself, not angrily or in distress, more for entertainment. 

“I thought you were asleep,” Rowan said when he got to the edge of the bassinet.

Elsie hadn’t heard him coming and her eyes went wide in surprise before she gave her father one of her best smiles. The kind that suggested she was too cute to be left alone. There was no hint of tiredness on her, she’d had a nap and deemed that it was enough. 

Rowan bent down, pulling at the swaddle to undo it. “Can’t sleep because you’re missing, Mama? Me too.”

With Elsie in his arms he brought her to the big bed. He piled the pillows on the headboard so that he could lean on them and sat so Elsie could lean on his legs. She was still so tiny, and Rowan couldn’t help himself as his hand ran over the soft wisps of hair on her head and the roundness of her cheeks. Elsie just tried to bite him, but kind of in slow motion. He chuckled at her antics, laying a hand on her stomach so she could try and play with his hand. Her co-ordination was still developing. 

“Since neither of us are sleeping, how about a story?” Rowan offered, he got no answer but he realistically didn’t expect to get one. “How about something about me and Mama, huh? I’m sure I can think of one you’d like.”

Elsie looked at him with one of his fingers between his gums. Her eyes hadn’t settled on a colour yet,  but in this light they definitely looked like they were leaning towards green. Rowan thought for a second trying to decide what story would work. There was the first ultrasound, but really that was more about Elsie than anything, and there were plenty of stories he knew he didn’t want to tell her about the pettiness between her parents that had lasted far too long. Rowan looked around the room and his eyes caught on the bassinet. 

“I know just the one,” he said. “When Mama had her baby shower for you, Da had realised by then that he wanted to be a part of her life. It was hard for me to try and figure out how to tell her because things had been rough before that and I’d made a lot of mistakes. I hadn’t told her and I wasn’t going to right then, but I was in love with her. And if you ask any of your uncles they’ll say it was blindingly obvious to anyone except us. But one day you’ll understand, sometimes it’s just hard to say the words.”

Elsie had abandoned biting his hand and just looked at him, like she was entranced by the story. 

“Anyway, I was going for the big gesture. I’m better with actions than with words most of the time,” Rowan admitted the last bit in a slight whisper. “Mama will be more than willing to tell you that anytime. I went shopping, I bought you so many things, but the most important thing was your bassinet. I kept it at home, for one last big surprise. I was so nervous. I thought maybe I’d overstepped, maybe Mama had wanted to buy something so important. She was looking at it and went so quiet, so I was just rambling because I didn’t know what else to do. Your mother literally had to stop me with a kiss. Right then I knew she was the one. I knew that I wanted to be a family with you and her and that I would fight to my last breath for it. And now here we are, a little family.”

When Rowan smiled, Elsie smiled right back. That smile made everything worth it, after all the trials and anything life was yet to throw at them, this little girl in front of him was enough to make him fight for it. Truthfully, she always had been. Rowan had just needed to wake up to see it. Elsie started cooing, her voice lilting in a sing-song pattern. 

Rowan lifted her up so he could kiss her cheeks over and over, making Elsie giggle. He knew she hadn’t understood the story, but one day she would. That was one story Rowan would keep telling until the day she did. He would always be telling her how much love he had for her mother. This time Elsie didn’t go far, Rowan settled her on his chest, her little head bobbing as she tried to get a good look at him. 

He smiled and kissed her head again, neither of which could be stopped because Elsie’s cuteness was undeniable. “Well, seeming as sleep isn’t on the cards, how about another story?” 

~~~~~

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#Rowan Week #I know t kind of fits into Dad Rowan day too but I have something else planned for that

[leiawritesstories]

Instruct Me

WHO Is This? Part 2 ;))))

For Rowan Week, day 7: Aelin admiring Rowan

the people have spoken and i hope this delivers hehe. happy happy birthday Emma @thegreyj!!!!!!!

Word count: 4.4k (oops)

Warnings: language, suggestive jokes, Rowan in leggings, smut. NSFW and definitely not for kids.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan was most definitely out of his depth.

He sat in his truck and breathed deeply, gathering every scrap of willpower he could find to convince himself to stop worrying and get out of the car already. He'd made it this far--it would be a damn shame to turn around now, when he was parked in the lot of Caraverre Studio, fifteen minutes before the eight o'clock class.

The eight o'clock Pilates class that Aelin Galathynius taught.

Gods above, he was like a high school kid with a crush.

Exhaling slowly, Rowan opened his door and swung himself out, closing the door firmly before he could second-guess his decision and locking up the truck so he wouldn't just climb back in anyway. He tucked his car keys into his pocket, allowed himself exactly twelve seconds to stress the hell out about going into what would probably be a roomful of women who would stare at his ass, and walked across the parking lot, each step feeling more final than the last.

The green-eyed brunette woman at the front desk glanced up and smiled brightly, a faintly wicked spark glinting in her eyes. "Hi there!"

"Hey," Rowan said slowly, awkwardly.

She raised a manicured brow. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, um, Aelin told me you take drop-ins for classes and I was hoping there was a spot at the 8 o'clock Pilates?"

The woman tapped on her iPad. "You must be Rowan."

Rowan blinked, stunned. "How--"

"Aelin's told us all about the bigshot hockey player who's on the alumni board with her," the woman laughed. "Nice to meet you, Rowan. I'm Lysandra."

"Leave it to Aelin," he snorted, grinning, set at ease by Lysandra's friendliness. "My cousin Sellene comes here all the time, she wanted me to tell you that y'all are amazing."

"Thank you," Lysandra beamed. "I should have known--you look so similar to her." She slid a clipboard with a form and a pen across the desk. "We do have a few spots left for the 8 o'clock, I just need you to fill out this form and pay the $10 drop-in fee."

"Perfect." Rowan quickly filled in the information on the form, signed, and handed Lysandra the form and his credit card. She swiped the card and handed it back.

"Studio C tonight. Go all the way down the hall, all the studios are labeled and the doors to C should be open." She waved. "Enjoy the class!"

"Thanks." Rowan followed where she'd pointed him, heading off down the hall until, as promised, he reached Studio C.

And just as he'd expected, he was the only guy there.

Shit.

~

Aelin arrived at Caraverre at exactly seven-forty, a good ten minutes earlier than she typically got there, but she wanted to have a little extra time to prepare for that night's class. Lys had texted her that there were a few more beginners signed up for the class, and she knew that Rowan might be dropping in, so she just wanted to make sure her planned workout wasn't going to be too much.

And no, the bright red, sculpting set she was wearing was definitely not because of the possibility of Rowan's presence.

Not at all.

After the, er, dreams she'd had--dreams in which every strong inch of his chiseled body was pressed to hers--well, teasing him was the least she could do.

She unrolled her mat at the front of the studio and set up the big basket of equipment, making sure she had a few spare mats for anyone who didn't have one. Around the room, as usual, she set up the electric candles, casting the space in soft warm light. As the people came in, she greeted all of them, recognizing a handful of women who regularly came to her classes as well as a few newbies.

By seven fifty-five, fourteen of the fifteen people who were scheduled to be there had arrived and settled themselves in the studio, low hums of conversation flickering around the space.

At seven fifty-eight exactly, Rowan Whitethorn walked through the doors.

And every female gaze in the room flicked straight to his unfairly sculpted body.

"Hey," he said nervously, uncertainty flashing across his handsome face as he flicked a wary gaze around the room.

"Hey, Rowan," Aelin smiled, walking over to his side. "Don't mind the ladies," she murmured, leading him to a relatively quiet place in the studio. "Having a man here is almost exotic."

He snorted quietly. "You say that like I'm a treat, Aelin."

"For the eyes, you are," she smirked, flashing him a wink.

Good lord, he was wearing very tight pants. Yes, and shorts over the top, but they were running shorts, dammit. He could not be having this...reaction to her. Not now.

But gods burn him, that red ensemble of hers did bad, bad things to his tenuous self-control.

"Not you too," he groaned, pleading.

She chuckled. "Don't worry about me, Whitethorn. It's our dear Maeve who's got her eyes on you." She tilted her head to the left, indicating the petite, salt-and-pepper-haired older woman wearing leggings and a loose, short-sleeved shirt who sat comfortably on her mat, her dark eyes trained on Rowan.

"Gods burn me," Rowan muttered. "She reminds me of my gran, she does."

Aelin snickered. "She's a lovely woman, but she firmly believes that I'm turning into a crazy cat lady and she's tried to set me up with every man who's ever come to one of my classes."

Rowan chuckled. "Seems like a lovely lady."

"She is," Aelin grinned, "she just adores to meddle, though." She glanced at Rowan's mat. "You're gonna want to grab a set of weights and a booty band from the basket." After checking his equipment, she nodded. "Good. Don't look so terrified, Whitethorn, you're going to be fine."

"I hope so," he mumbled, more to himself than to her as she headed back to the front of the room.

"Good evening, everyone!" Aelin settled herself into a comfortable seated position. "My name is Aelin and I teach Pilates and barre here ad Caraverre. Welcome! Tonight's class is going to be focused primarily on stretching and stability, and it's very beginner-friendly, I promise." She smiled. "For those of you who are familiar with Pilates, please feel free to modify the exercises if you need a higher difficulty. And, as always, honor your body and don't do anything that makes you feel pain."

Rowan followed Aelin's instructions, her husky, smooth voice guiding him and the rest of the class to lie down flat, and breathed deeply, focusing his attention on his breath. To his surprise, he found her instructions precise and clear and easy to follow, and he found himself much more capable than he'd thought he would be at coaxing his body into the stretches she demonstrated.

"Stand with your feet about shoulder width apart," Aelin instructed. "Good, good! Now, step your right foot out into a wide side lunge, and lean your weight towards the right leg." She demonstrated, lunging sideways, enjoying the stretch in her left leg.

And thoroughly enjoying the way Rowan's eyes trained on the lines of her body.

Standing back up, she walked slowly around the studio, offering her instructions to the students. Good--make the stretch a little deeper--keep your back straight--less weight on the left foot--looks good. When she came to Rowan, she flicked her eye over his form, nodding. "Looks good, Mr. Alternate Captain."

"Stop it," he mumbled, flushing a little.

She smirked and turned around in front of him, demonstrating how to shift weight to the other leg. This was totally normal for her--demonstrating the next move wherever she was in the room, whether on her own mat or somewhere else.

And if Rowan had a prime view of her ass as she demonstrated, well, wasn't that a funny coincidence?

~

Rowan was going to combust. Right here, right now. Actually burst into flames and die.

It took every ounce of his willpower to think of sad puppies and roadkill and other such boner-killing things to prevent himself from looking like an absolute creep. But in his defense, Aelin's tiny little smirk meant that she'd done that on purpose. Demonstrated the stretch right in front of his face on purpose.

She was trying to kill him, he was sure of it.

It was almost as if she knew that he dreamed of her. That in his dreams, she was as bare as the day she was born, her softly tanned skin soft and smooth beneath his wandering hands. That in his godsdamned dreams, the moans that left her lips were sweeter than the loveliest melody ever composed.

As she made her way around the studio, Aelin paused next to Rowan, placing her hand onto his side and nudging his weight farther over his left leg. "The stretch will feel better if you aren't so planted on your supporting leg," she explained softly.

Rowan's jaw twitched at the twinge of old pain in his left leg, the injury from years ago that made him hesitant to stretch too deeply.

Aelin, of course, noticed. "You alright?"

He nodded.

She raised her brows, unconvinced. "Honor your body, Rowan."

"Damn catchphrases," he grumbled, but allowed her to help guide him into a less strenuous stretch. "Thank you."

She patted his shoulder, her hand lingering on the tanned skin and muscle exposed by his tank top. "I'm a certified instructor, Whitethorn. Trust me when I tell you that I don't want you injured."

"Right, always stretch to be safe," he muttered, half to himself.

A wide, wicked grin flashed across her face. "All the better to warm up your old muscles, darling."

That did it.

Rowan was in deep, deep shit.

~

Aelin could barely keep herself from smirking with glee as she led the Pilates class into a series of bridge holds, booty bands looped around the upper thighs for extra resistance. As she lifted her lower body off the mat, explaining how to properly lift and lower the body so as to engage the targeted muscles, she couldn't help but admire the way Rowan's toned legs and ass flexed and clenched as he followed her directions.

Those Spandex leggings did marvelous, marvelous things for the imagination, they did.

"Lift...and lower," she instructed, keeping her voice level and calm, guiding the class. "Good, good! Lift...and lower. Make sure your back is flat against the mat when you come down, and if it's not, just take your time! Remember, form is far more important than the number of repetitions. Lift...and lower. Good!"

Sliding the band off her legs, Aelin stood and circled the studio, still directing the set of bridges. "All right, good! Now lift!" A longer pause this time. "And lower slowly, as slowly as you can. Good!" She returned to her mat and laid down, settling herself onto her side. "Now, turn slowly onto your left side, keep that band around your legs, we're going to do some leg lifts."

She demonstrated how to position the legs, bent at an angle and slightly in front of the body. "Now lift your top leg up, keeping the heels together, just like this." She showed the froglike leg lift, knowing full well that Rowan's attention shot right to the borderline seductive crook of her legs as she lifted her top leg. "Remember, honor your body and don't lift any farther than you're comfortable doing." She looked around at the class. "Good, good! Really good!"

Rising, she directed the class through a slow set of leg lifts, adjusting form as she walked. She tossed Rowan a sly wink when she approached him, smirking down at him. "Nice leg work, Whitethorn. Bet the ladies love it."

His face went the most delightful shade of embarrassed as he coughed, struggling for words. "Aelin," he wheezed, cheeks flaring bright red.

She just winked. "Okay, everyone, turn onto your other side and repeat the same exercise! Slowly now, we're focusing on stability, not reps. Ready?"

After the more demanding part of the workout, Aelin guided the class through a series of cooldown stretches, staying on her own mat and just talking through the motions. And smothering her evil smirk when she noticed Rowan's attention drawn directly to the swell of her breasts through her sports bra when she leant forwards, explaining the stretch. "Remember, only go as far as you can and hold, your muscles will loosen up after a bit of time and you may be able to stretch farther."

She had to clamp her lips together to keep from giggling when she noticed how many of the ladies' gazes flicked over to Rowan's ass as she guided the class into a folded-over stretch. One that deliberately placed everyone's ass up in the air.

But it was such a good stretch for tight backs and hamstrings.

"And that's the class!" she announced, grinning at the fifteen people as she slowly rolled her head up, comfortably seated on her mat. "Thank you all so much for coming!"

Murmurs of thanks rippled around the room as people slowly got up and rolled up their mats, placing equipment back in the basket. Aelin stood at the doorway and said good night to everyone, smiling and laughing and making her goodbyes.

Rowan was the last person lingering in the studio, waiting until all the ladies had left before he strolled up to her and leaned against the doorframe, eyes bright with mischief and something...darker.

"What did you think?" she asked, genuinely curious.

He rolled his neck, considering. "I actually really enjoyed it," he admitted.

"I'm glad," she beamed. "Really, Rowan. I hardly get guys in Pilates classes, it's just so much more marketed to women."

"I see why all the team trainers want us to do something with more stretching," he chuckled. "God, it's like I'm discovering muscles I never knew I had."

She smirked. "That tends to happen with Pilates and yoga and other, slower workouts. I remember when I took my first Pilates class, I had to take a few minutes before I could put my shoes on."

His soft laugh echoed through the studio, a low joyous rumble she wanted to capture in a jar and keep forever. "I'm pretty sure I'll be feeling it in the morning."

"Not the only thing you feel in the morning," she smirked, unable to help herself.

Instantly, Rowan's eyes flared, that suppressed darkness in their depths rising up. "What exactly are you implying, Aelin?"

Gods burn her, the way this man said her name. "Why don't you use that little brain of yours and think about it, Rowan?"

He stepped closer to her, bracing one forearm on the doorframe, right beside her head, drawing her gaze up into his. Hell, she hadn't realized how much of a height difference there was between them. Or how much that height difference turned her on.

"I think," he purred, brazenly curling his free hand around her hip, "that you've had too much fun instructing me tonight, Aelin Galathynius."

"Hmmm," she purred, daintily placing her fingertips against his toned chest, a smirk curling the corners of her full lips, "and what makes you think that, Rowan Whitethorn?"

In response, he tipped his head down, pausing when he was no more than a hairsbreadth away from her tantalizing lips, his own wicked grin unfurling at her tiny, shuddering sigh of yearning. "Someone couldn't keep her hands off me," he hummed, slipping just a fraction closer, the heat of his body pressing into hers.

A shiver danced down her spine. "At least I wasn't afraid to make a move," she smirked, taunting him.

To her complete and utter delight, it worked.

Rowan closed the barely-there gap between them, pressing his lips to hers, his kiss soft and tentative at first but quickly deepening when Aelin rolled up onto her tiptoes and looped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers into his soft hair.

Gods, this must be what heaven was like--six-foot-three and toned as hell, with a tattoo straight out of her fantasies licking up the length of one arm.

A muted whoop broke through their reverie, making them jump apart and whirl around to find Lysandra standing a few paces away, beaming like a child on Christmas and clapping. "I win!"

"Dammit," Aelin grumbled, laughing through her pretended grouchiness. "Really, Lys?"

"You're the one snogging the man you've been crushing on in public," Lys smirked.

Aelin rolled her eyes. "Fair enough. Now shoo, Lys."

"Love you too!" Lysandra called over her shoulder as she headed off. "It's my night to lock up, so go home, lovebirds!"

"You're the worst!"

Lys just giggled. "I'll expect details tomorrow, babes!"

"Gods," Aelin fake-grumbled, chuckling as she grabbed her rolled-up mat and slung it over her shoulder. "I'm never gonna hear the end of this from her."

"Oh, but you'll have stories to tell," Rowan promised, smirking darkly at her.

She arched one blonde brow. "Awful big talk, Whitethorn."

His smirk grew, curling lazily across his face as he trailed his eyes down her body. "And I can back it up, too." He slipped his hand into hers, linking their fingers, and walked beside her out into the parking lot.

Where he promptly pressed her up against the side of his truck and kissed her deeply, pressing his body flush with hers. She groaned into his kiss, her lips opening to his tongue, and yanked him closer, delicately slipping her hands beneath his thin tank top to slide up his torso, his chest, feeling his heartbeat thundering under her palms.

"Gods," he groaned, panting, pulling away only to kiss down her jaw, her neck, "gods, Aelin!"

Head tilting back, she moaned softly, her grasp on reality swiftly slipping away under this gorgeous man's ministrations. "Rowan," she panted, a half-coherent thought breaking through the fog of desire clouding her senses, "home."

He stepped back. "Where?"

She caught her breath, the coolness of the night air helping to clear her head. "I live fairly close..."

"Your place, then." His eyes glittered. "I don't need to waste any more time, love."

The pet name warmed her to her core. "Right, you can just follow me, I'm not leaving my car here."

~

The drive home was a hazy blur of shock and elation and disbelief, paired with the steady throbbing in her core. Aelin parked in her driveway and locked up her car, waiting by the front door for Rowan to hop out of his truck, lock up, and stride over to her, wasting absolutely no time in wrapping one thickly muscled arm around her waist and kissing her long and slow, not caring that they were on her front porch and anyone could see them.

"Inside," Aelin managed to gasp, fumbling for her key and unlocking the door. Rowan hoisted her effortlessly into his arms and carried her into her house, hands wandering the moment he set her back down on her feet.

"Fuck," he rasped, toying with the band of her sports bra. "You're so damn gorgeous, Ae."

"You're one to talk, handsome" she hummed, boldly surveying his chiseled frame, her wicked gaze not missing the tent in his shorts. "Looks like I'm not the only one who had fun at the studio."

"Wicked woman," he chuckled, sweeping her into his arms again, his large hands cupping her ass. Before he could give in to the temptation of kissing her flushed skin, though, he looked into her eyes. "Are you sure about this?"

She cupped her hands around his jaw. "Lys is right, Rowan, I've had a crush on you for far longer than I'm ever going to admit." A soft kiss to his temple. "I'm absolutely sure. I need you, Ro."

"Thank all the gods," he rumbled, nipping softly at her collarbone. "I--I've had a crush on you for years, too."

"Look at us idiots," she laughed, "both--oh gods, Rowan!" Her mirth shifted into a moan as he slid one hand between her thighs, feeling the warmth pooled there.

"So you did enjoy teasing me," he purred into her ear, his heated breath fanning against her skin.

"So much," she gasped. "Ah, fuck, Ro!"

"I need you," he panted, so close to just damning it all to hell and taking her right there, first times be damned.

She slipped out of his arms, took his hand, and led him upstairs and into the master bedroom, where she peeled off her leggings and sports bra and stood before him wearing only a scrap of lace that could barely be called panties. "You have me."

Rowan all but ripped his tank top off, eyes fixed onto the absolute beauty that was Aelin Galathynius standing near-bare in front of him. The leggings were a bit trickier, but soon enough, he stood bare before her, endlessly thrilled at the way her gaze tracked down his body, darkening as she looked.

"Fuck me," she whispered, her voice low and throaty. "You're so damn beautiful, Ro." Her lips, slightly swollen from his kisses, dropped ever so slightly open at the sight of him standing hard and proud and ready for her, at the whole of him bared to her.

"That's the idea," he chuckled darkly, striding to her, tilting her chin up to meet her brilliant turquoise eyes. "But first..." He played with the waistband of her lacy little panties. "These need to go."

With one quick rip, the offending garment laid on the floor. Aelin barely had time to gasp before Rowan was on her, his lips and touch everywhere she craved it, his body hard and warm and tantalizing against hers. Almost before she knew it, he was laying her down on her bed, a look near reverence in his desire-darkened eyes.

"Tell me if you need me to stop," he whispered into her ear, just about making her cry with sheer overwhelming emotion.

But she settled on a long, low moan as he splayed one hand between her breasts, alternating rough and soft touches, teasing her nipples into hard, eager peaks, and trailed the other hand through her soaked pussy, his thumb landing squarely on her clit. "Fuck, Rowan!"

"That's it, love," he rumbled, "say my name." Gods burn him, she was dripping against his hand, her slick eager core welcoming him as he slipped one finger gently into her heat, groaning thickly at the way she gripped him. "Fuck, you feel amazing."

"Don't stop," she begged, so wound up and ready for him. "Please, R, don't stop."

"Such pretty manners," he smirked, adding another finger. "You like that, Ae?" He took her frantic, wordless nod as assent and sped up the pace of his fingers, leaning down to tug one deliciously peaked breast into his mouth, needing to feel her coming undone for him before he would let himself enter her. She moaned breathily, a jumble of curses and pleas and his name leaving her lips.

"Close, Rowan, so close!"

"Come for me, love."

And she did, climaxing around his fingers, her face scrunching and then relaxing in utter bliss as her body rocked. He worked her through it, pulling away to slide his tongue across his glistening fingers, moaning lowly at the taste of her.

"Delicious," he purred hotly, lowering his lips down to hers. "Taste yourself, love." And he kissed her, possessive, claiming, making her taste the essence of herself on his tongue. His hips jerked involuntarily as she wrapped her wicked hand around him, pumping too slowly for the way his blood raced, craving her.

"You like that?" she murmured, her tiny smirk proving that she knew very well he liked it.

He grunted a curse and plucked her hand away from him. "Keep doing that and I won't last long enough to have you screaming my name, love." He ghosted a kiss against her throat. "And I will have you screaming for me."

Her whole body shuddered at his promise, fresh arousal pooling in her core. "Yes please," she breathed, pressing a kiss to his strong jawline.

"As you wish," he murmured, locking his eyes onto hers as he lined himself up and slid slowly into her, both of them moaning at the sensation. He rocked his hips slowly, easing into the heavenly tightness of her until his hips bumped against hers. "Hi," he breathed, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.

"Hi," she breathed, her hips subtly rocking upwards into him. He smiled at her, stroking across her face as he withdrew, only to plunge back into her, drawing a sharp moan from her lips. "Ohhhh, oh gods!"

"Not gods," he panted, his thrusts rattling her whole world, "just me." He could feel himself on the verge of breaking, even so soon after entering her--she was perfect. So perfect. His pace sped up, growing almost frantic, and she met him thrust for thrust, gripping his shoulders and raising herself up to lean her forehead into his. Their breaths mingled in the sex-tinged haze of the bedroom as he pounded into her, gasping praises and curses and chants of her name.

"Rowan," she pleaded, desperate, writhing beneath him. "Please, gods, Rowan, I'm so close!"

"Then come for me," he ordered, slipping his hand between their bodies to flick her clit, the last touch of pleasure she needed to tumble into ecstasy, yelling his name as she shattered around him.

He groaned her name into the crook of her neck as he followed, just barely remembering to pull out and spill himself all over her thighs and lower abdomen. Gods, but the sight of her covered in his orgasm did terrible things to his self-control. Her chest heaved as she came down from the blissful high, tugging him down to sprawl atop her as he stilled.

"Mmmmph," he mumbled, something resembling sanity telling him he needed to get up and get a washcloth. "Need to clean you up."

"And a gentleman too," she murmured, allowing him to get up--a little unsteadily--and go into her bathroom to grab a warm washcloth and clean her up. "Mmm, I got really lucky."

His laugh rumbled through her room. "You are incredible, Ae," he whispered, sliding back into bed and curling around her.

She settled comfortable into his embrace, tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder. "No, you are."

He didn't have time to protest before she was asleep, her breathing deep and rhythmic.

Well, then.

He'd tell her how he felt in the morning.

~~~

TAGS:

@charlizeed

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@clea-nightingale

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#my writing #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #fluff #and sexy times #rowaelin smut #and lots of naughty jokes #rowan week #rowan week fic #happy birthday emma #love you emma #smutty smut smut #gonna bleach my eyes now

[morganofthewildfire]

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Same Time Thursday - Elia's Question

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Rowan Week day 4: Dad Rowan @rowaelinscourt

eeee i love this oneshot so much, i hope you guys love it too

Credit to @justreadertings for her amazing headcanons that led me to this moment 🥺

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

15 years later

Elia was nearly shaking as she walked into the kitchen that evening, her hand clutching the paper tightly between her fingers. She didn’t know if she wanted to know, and yet she did. She needed to. 

Her parents had sat her down a few years ago to tell her about him, but it had been vague and just the barest of information. To be fair, she was only thirteen at that point, but it still didn’t hit at that urge to know more, to understand. 

Now she understood too much.

Nausea rose in her stomach as she saw her dad standing in the kitchen by the stove, beginning to prepare their dinner for the night. Her mom was still at the bookstore, and so were her two youngest siblings, Emmett and Emilia. Emerson and Eden were over at Uncle Lorcan’s and Aunt Elide’s with their cousins, and Eliott was sleeping over at a friend’s. 

So it was just her and her dad home. Her dad. He was still her dad.

“Hey dad?” Elia asked, her voice shaky. 

“Hey baby,” her dad said warmly, not hearing her tone nor her face. He was still facing the stove, making some sort of sauce on the stovetop. Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius was the designated cook in the relationship, because it was common knowledge that Aelin Whitethorn-Galathynius could not cook to save her life. “How was ballet?”

Elia smiled weakly, walking slowly past the huge kitchen island to get closer to him. “It was good,” she fibbed. It’d been fine, they were working on their winter showcase and that was always fun, but her head had been so elsewhere that it had been a horrible rehearsal. 

Her dad turned to look at her then, his pale brows furrowed as he undoubtedly saw her emotions on her face. Then his gaze fell to what was in her hands and his face flattened into an expression of understanding.

“Where’d you find that?” He asked, not accusingly but lightly, like he was trying to keep the conversation comfortable. It was so him, so how he’d raised her her whole life that her eyes started watering. She sniffed to try and hide the tears, but she couldn’t, and her dad immediately turned to shut the stove off, crossing the space between them and enveloping her in a warm hug. 

Elia hadn’t meant to find the article. Maybe she had, she didn’t know. She’d been in her world history class, and they were doing a research project about big pop cultural moments in different countries in the past few decades. They’d spent the period today looking for sources and developing their research topics, and in a moment of morbid curiosity, Elia had typed his name in.

Arobynn Hamel

There’d been some basic biographical information at the top of the browser, but the link to this article had been right below. Feeling sicker and sicker, she’d read the whole thing, before shakingly asking her teacher to go to the library to print it out. 

Then she’d just stared at it until the bell rang, until she’d gone straight to dance and had to think about it for hours, until she could drive home, until now. 

“Everything’s okay,” her dad was murmuring to her, brushing her hair while she cried into his shirt. “It was a long time ago. He’s gone.” 

She wondered how often he had to say the same thing to her mom.

Elia pulled back slightly, wiping at her face and looking up at him. She was sixteen and nearly fully grown, but he still towered over her, well over six feet compared to her five feet and eight inches or so. 

She was her mom’s height, almost exactly. She had her mom’s nose, and her mom’s freckles, and her mom’s eyes. But not her mom’s hair.

“Can you tell me about him?” She asked quietly, wiping her eyes again, and her dad looked slightly surprised but nodded.

“Of course,” he said, gesturing for them to sit down at the island. Elia slid into one of the barstools, tucking her legs up under her. She’d changed into comfy clothes after getting home from rehearsal, and had taken out her tight bun, leaving her red hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. 

“What do you want to know?” Her dad asked, hooking his hands together on the kitchen counter. Their house was absurdly large, it had to be to fit six children and two full grown adults, but it always felt homey, and Elia had never appreciated that more than now.

“What was he like?” She asked, her voice trembling. Her dad loosed a heavy sigh.

“Well,” he said, “if I’m being honest, I only interacted with him once.” She was a little surprised by that, though she didn’t know why. She had no way of knowing all that had gone down in between her mom and dad meeting and his death, but she hadn’t expected that. 

“Once?” She asked, and he nodded. 

“He wasn’t exactly my biggest fan,” her dad said, smiling wryly, but Elia’s face just fell even more. He saw that and sighed again, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “I think I need to back up a little bit.” 

“Maybe,” Elia said, smiling slightly, and her dad chuckled a little bit, shaking his head.

“When I first met your mom, I was a complete asshole,” he said, smiling fondly, and Elia couldn’t help but laugh. “She put me in my place pretty quickly, and then I got to meet you.” He looked at her then with so much love that her eyes started watering again. “But that was just the beginning.”

And so he began to weave the story of Rowan Whitethorn and Aelin Galathynius, and how they’d ended up here. How he’d gotten pulled into her troubles in a little bit of a whirlwind, but once he realized what was going on had done everything possible to help. 

How slowly, her mom began to open up to him, and how he began to fall for her, but how he’d fallen for Elia first. Elia had known about her dad’s own past, and the child he’d lost, but it hurt all over again to see the tears in his eyes as he’d mentioned it. No matter how long it’d been, she was sure the wound still ached.

She squeezed his hand back at that part of the story.

She had tears in her own eyes the further along he got, especially when he got to the car wreck that they’d been in together. Elia had no memories of it of course, she’d been so young, but she’d heard the story many times. At least - how her dad’s car seat had saved her life. Not necessarily how they’d gotten into a wreck, that was new.

“The only time I met Arobynn Hamel was at Mistward,” her dad said, and Elia blinked in surprise, recognizing the name of her favorite coffee shop. “You were just a little over a year old at this point,” he continued, his eyes shadowed by decades old fear. “Aelin used to leave you with Emrys, to babysit.” Elia loved Emrys. He was a lot older now, but just as warm as he’d been when she was a kid. “But after that exam, we got back to the cafe to pick you up. We were going to go on vacation, for Yulemas, but we were too late.” A pit formed in her stomach. “Arobynn was there already - holding you.” 

Her dad hesitated to say the last part, and she knew why. She couldn’t remember it, but she was sure it’d been traumatic for her parents to walk in and see that. For her mom especially, to see her daughter in the hands that had brutalized her again and again. 

“I was so scared,” her dad said quietly, shaking his head, his voice full of emotion. “And angry, that you’d been pulled in as a pawn in his sick games.” 

Elia felt nauseous. 

“I assume you read it in the article,” her dad continued, “that your mom was forced to go back with him, and take you.” He sighed heavily, and tears pricked her eyes again. “She’s the bravest person I’ve ever known, and I will forever admire her strength, but waking up that morning to you two gone was the worst day of my life.” 

“Why did she do it?” Elia whispered. She knew why, but she needed to hear it again. Her dad pressed a quick kiss to her hand. 

“Because he was going to take you away, and I think your mom would rather die herself than see that happen,” he said, and Elia nodded, absorbing the information. 

A minute passed in companionable silence. Until -

“Fourteen, dad,” she whispered, “she was fourteen.” 

“I know,” he replied, and she could hear the utter heartbreak in his voice and see it in his face too. “I know.” And Elia couldn’t stop herself from leaning in to hug him again, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He hugged her back immediately, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Why don’t you talk to her about this?” He asked after he pulled back. “If it’s bothering you.”

“I don’t want to…” she trailed off, feeling shy. Her face was probably red. But he guessed it, smiling slightly. 

“Upset her?” He asked, and she nodded, realizing how silly it was. “Sweetheart, your mom went back to a monster to protect you. I think she would actually really appreciate knowing you felt comfortable talking to her about it all.” 

“You’re right,” Elia said, nodding and tucking her hair behind her ear. But - “how is she? How does she handle it all?” 

Her dad sighed, running a hand through his hair briefly. Sometimes she forgot how young her parents were. All of her friends had parents well into their forties, well into middle age. Her dad was 37, and her mom was only 36.

“She has good days and bad days,” he said honestly, “about what you’d expect.” Elia nodded in agreement. She didn’t think you could get away from that unscathed. Even if she couldn’t even imagine it, nor did she really want to picture it happening to her mom. Her mom, the woman who’d given birth to her at the young age of twenty, who’d raised her as a single mom until Rowan came along, who’d been by her side day by day, year by year. 

She didn’t even want to think about it. She just wanted to go upstairs and cuddle with Fleetfoot, the dog her mom had gotten for her over a decade ago. Fleetfoot was getting pretty old, but she was still Elia’s favorite cuddle buddy. 

“Thanks for talking to me,” Elia said after a minute, not looking at her dad. She wiped her face and stood up off of the barstool, unable to process the emotions still swirling inside of her. She couldn’t process what was actually bothering her - what her place was in all of this. 

“Any time,” her dad said, standing up too and looking at her fondly. “I hope I answered what you were looking for.” Elia nodded vaguely again, turning to face the hallway, like she was going to leave. Until she blurted out -

“You’re my real dad, right?” 

There was a pause, slight tension hanging in the room as she fought the turmoil inside of her. The turmoil she felt every time she looked in the mirror and saw herself, saw the mixing of her mom’s and his features. The turmoil she felt as she wondered if she was a constant reminder to her mom of the pain she’d felt. If the horror that she’d been conceived in somehow meant that something about her was fundamentally … wrong.

He still wasn’t answering, so Elia started rambling, desperate to fill in the silence. “Like, I know you are and of course you are, you’ve always been there for me and you love me, but sometimes I look at Eliott, and I look at Emerson and Eden, and Emilia and Emmett and I wonder if I’m too different.” Her vision was blurry as she looked back at her dad, his face tender and sorrowful. “If something in me is broken and still connected to that man. If somehow… I’m not good enough to be part of this family.” 

“Hey,” her dad cut her off, stepping forward and resting his hands on her shoulders. “It does not matter whatsoever if you have red hair or silver hair or blonde hair,” he shook his head. “You’re always going to be my daughter.” The words were sincere and her throat became tight with emotion. “The day you first called me dad was one of the best days of my life. This family would not be the same without you,” he insisted. “Not at all, okay?” 

Elia sniffed and nodded, feeling the words wash over her. Her dad let the words sit for a moment before leaning in and kissing her forehead once. 

“I love you, firefly,” he said, using her old nickname. “Don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to us about this stuff alright? We’re here for you.” 

“I know,” she said quietly, “I love you, too.” Silence fell, and she stayed in it for a minute, before saying, “I think I will talk to mom about it,” sniffing and nodding at the words. Her dad smiled softly. 

“I’m glad,” he said, before reaching out and ruffling her hair, making her laugh. 

Just then, the sounds of the lock in the front door jiggling hit her ears and Elia turned, seeing the door open and her mom walk through. 

“I’m very sorry you left your toy,” she was saying to Emmett, who was clutching her leg as she was trying to walk and crying. “But I’ll be back tomorrow and I’ll grab it then. We’re not going back tonight.” 

“But mama-” Emmett started whining, and her mom just huffed, maneuvering awkwardly with the weight on her as she turned to shut the door behind them. At two years old, he was still a basket case.

Seven year old Emilia was skipping around them both, giggling about something or other, and the chaotic sight was so familiar it made Elia laugh, even with her puffy eyes. 

“Daddy!” Emilia suddenly shouted, racing over to where their dad had moved back to the stovetop, turning it on again. He let out an oof as Emilia collided with the back of his legs, and paused cooking again to bend down and pick her up, setting her on the counter next to him.

After seeing that, Emmett was immediately fine, and followed his older sister’s steps, running and jumping at their dad too. He just chuckled and bent down to pick him up, holding him with one arm as he went back to cooking. 

But not before shooting a wink at her. 

“Kids,” her mom huffed jokingly, kicking off her shoes in the hallway, taking off her tote bag and hanging it up on the rack where it hung every time she was home. “Hey sweetheart,” she said, when she noticed Elia standing nearby. “How was your day?” 

In almost the same exact amount of time as her dad, her mom noticed something was off, and her brows furrowed. Elia just walked up to her, giving her a big hug. Her mom was briefly surprised, but hugged her back, kissing her cheek warmly. 

Elia was nearly crying again as she pulled back, especially as her mom tucked a piece of her red hair behind her ear. She breathed in shakily before asking “Can we talk?”

----

taglist:

@wordsafterhours

@romancinghollywood

@superspiritfestival

@wishfulimaginings

@larisssss

@punkassbookjockey26

@shyvioletcat

@aelinchocolatelover

@s-uppertime

@leiawritesstories

@elentiyawhitethorn

@backtobl4ck

@goddess-aelin

@fromthelibraryofemilyj

@justreadertings

@rowaelinismyotp

@live-the-fangirl-life

@swankii-art-teacher

@tomtenadia

@highqueenofelfhame

@firestarsandseneschals

@thegreyj

@mariamuses

@house-of-galathynius

@rowanaelinn

@llyncooljones

@story-scribbler

@charlizeed

@bookcide

@elizarikaallen

@slytherhys

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@rowaelinrambling

@courtofjurdan

@peppermint-fae

#rowan week #rowanweek #stt #throne of glass au #throne of glass #throne of glass fanficiton #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction

[tomtenadia]

Rowan week - day 1 - Samhain

Helloooo That’s me back in Scotland and ready to celebrate our buzzard. Now, I just re read it but I am not very awake. I have been up since 4am this morning so apologies if there are typos. So, it’s not 100% Rowan centric, but it’s him with his family. It’s post canon.

A few notes: Latha Bealltain, Lùnastal, :these are the name in Scottish Gaelic for Beltane and Lughnasadh.

Mirrie dancers is a Shetland for the northern lights...

Well, I hope you will love it.

No Warnings jus 1.9k words of undiluted fluff.

@rowaelinscourt

--------

The castle lay silent on a cold autumn morning. The trees outside, had long lost their leaves save for the expanse of pine trees, and the first soft blanket on snow covered the estate. It was all silent and that was the part of the day Rowan loved the most. Slowly he sneaked out of bed, without waking his wife still heavily asleep at his side. Out of habit he dropped a soft kiss on her head in a routine that accompanied him every morning. Quietly, he walked to the room adjacent and stared at the small body still curled under the heavy quilt. A big smile spread on his lips, Aisling, their six years old daughter, looked back at him with pine green eyes just like his.

“Dada?”

Rowan chuckled and walked to her sitting at her side “morning, love.”

The girl sneaked out of the covers and stretched her arms in an attempt to be picked up by her father “done sleeping?”

“Yes,” she pipped happily. Aisling was his clone, her hair just as silver as his, but was a mix of her parents when it came to her disposition. She was definitely an early riser like her father. “Want to go and have breakfast with me?”

“Yes, hungry.” When it came to food, Aisling was, on the other hand, all of her mother.  He lived with two bottomless pits and his daughter seemed interested in sugary foods just like Aelin.

He grabbed a jumper and placed it on the little girl, the castle in the morning could be quite cold. “Let’s go, little terror.”

Aisling roared and Rowan burst out laughing while with her on his shoulders he walked to the kitchens.

When they arrived father and daughter got enveloped by the smell of baking and the heat of a fully working kitchen.

“Good morning,” Emrys welcomed them and with his hands covered in flour he tapped Aisling’s nose leaving a white spot, and the little girl giggled happily. She loved Emrys.

“Your majesty.” He addressed Rowan who almost flinched. Even after eight years he was still not used to be called and treated with such deference. He still felt like a warrior. He had tried to tell the chef over and over to call him Rowan, but the man’s hearing became erratic all of a sudden when he protested. 

“Are you baking?”

“Yes, her majesty requested a selection of sweets for Samhain.”

Rowan grinned “did you make the spooky biscuits I requested?”

The chef nodded and turned to the little girl who was carefully listening to the two men talking “and you, little one, what would you like for breakfast?”

“Pancakes, and jam.”

Emrys smiled and ruffled her hair “pancakes you will have,” at the same time he passed her a glass with warm milk.

“Is it all setup for tonight?”

“Yes, Malakai brought in what you requested and stashed it in the agreed upon location.”

“Thank your husband for me, please.”

“Food,” screamed the girl and the two men laughed and the first pancakes finally landed on her plate.

Aelin joined them half an hour later, dressed in a loose and long blue dress that gently hugged her swollen belly. She was six months pregnant and always very tired. He’d take any opportunity to let his mate rest if he could.

“Morning, husband,” a soft kiss on his head, while Rowan’s hand gently brushed the bump “morning, fireheart,” he looked up at her, eyes full of joy and love.

“Mama!”Aisling climbed off the chair and ran to her mother, hugging her at legs level “morning, peanut.” In that instant Aelin felt a kick and smiled at the feeling.

“Emrys, I smell wonderful food.”

“I have baked a few things for you.”

Aelin walked to the man and plastered a loud kiss on his cheek “you are the most wonderful chef.”

Rowan snorted loudly “just because he fuels your unhealthy addiction to sugary stuff.”

Aelin turned to her mate “oh buzzard, you are such an old boring man.”

He was about to reply that she didn’t think he was that boring in bed when he made her melt under his touch but their daughter was around and she was very quick at picking up on these things.

“Yes, buzzard.” Screamed the girl tapping his arm with sticky hands from the jam.

*

Later on that night he had sneaked out and went to call Malakai to get everything ready for the evening he had prepared for his two women. He and the other man had set up a tent in a quiet corner of the gardens, with an open view of the sky too. It was meant to be a crispy night and he had a feeling that there was the possibility to see the Mirrie Dancers. Carefully they started the bonfire and once ready Rowan thanked the warrior and went to collect his two girls.

He found them in the royal chambers, both of them dressed with winter clothes and ready for whatever plan he had. Happy that they were warm enough, he took Aisling in his arms and grabbed Aelin’s hand in his and they started walking outside.

“Dada, where are we going?”

Rowan kissed her head “almost there, my love.”

Not long after Aelin spotted a big tent and a bonfire “Rowan, what is this?”

“Our Samhain celebrations.”

Her head leaned against his arm and kissed it gently “I love it already.”

“Don’t worry there is food.”

“Good, you know our priorities.”

Slowly he guided them inside “I guess you can top up the bonfire for us, yes?”

“Of course,”

Aisling squealed in delight when she entered the tent. It was an old battle tent and was spacious enough for all of them. He had it carpeted with thick warm quilts. In a corner lay a tray full of biscuits with monster shapes. It was cozy and it was bathed in the soft light of the bonfire outside.

Just on the side of the entrance there were a few carved turnips with grotesque faces and small candles in them, they were meant to ward off the evil spirits.

“Ro, this is amazing.”

“Go in, both of you. I have warm food.”

Aelin and Aisling sat inside and the girl started crawling around in happiness “do you like this, my love?”

“Yes mum,” she grinned deeply, showing some of her missing teeth.

Rowan came back a moment later with a big tray. On it three bowls with stew and fresh bread on the side “deer stew, Emrys made it today.” The smell of the food enveloped the tent and the family ate happily “Do you know what day it’s today, Lin?” She shook her head. “Tonight it’s a special night called Samhain.”

Aisling, who was done eating moved to her father and sat in his lap. Rowan had started telling her all about the old ways, about the festivals of Latha Bealltain, Lùnastal, Imbolc and the winter solstice. He told her legends and the meaning of the festivals and his daughter had loved all of them. “Samhain is an ancient festival too,” she turned her head up to look at her father, totally transfixed by him “it marks the beginning of the darker part of the year, so we lit bonfires to imitate the sun.”

“Why dad?”

“The bonfire is meant to ward off the evil spirits.”

Aisling laughed “like ghosts?”

Their daughter was as fearless as her mother and when once her uncle Fen told her a horror story they had been worried she would have been scared, but the little girl always went back for more.

“Yes,” said Aelin softly “big fat ghosts who steal out biscuits.”

Aisling giggled and took the treat her mother passed her.

“But there is another story, little one,” added Rowan, still holding his daughter “it’s meant to be also the time of the year when the veil with our world and the Otherworld can be crossed and spirits can come to us.”

“Like fairies?”

Aelin chuckled “Yes, darling.”

“I want to see a fairy.” She squirmed out of her father embrace and crawled to the edge of the tent “come out fairies!” She shouted into the night.

Rowan exited too and helped Aelin follow him. The three of them stood outside, near the fire, Aelin with her back against his chest and his hands on her bump and Aisling at her father side, her face up to the sky.

“Tonight may be a good night for the Mirrie Dancers, the conditions are the right ones.”

“That would be the best way to finish this wonderful night.”

They waited a while but Rowan entertained them with stories and legends and used the carved turnips to make up spooky stories for them.

Until he looked up and he saw the sky ablaze with green and blue waves of light, the air crackling with the energy of the moment. With his strong arms he pulled his daughter on his shoulder and Aelin tucked at his side.

“Pretty!”

“They are called Mirrie Dancers, my love,” he explained, his eyes never looking away from the stunning phenomenon “there are legends that they are the souls of the departed,” he explained “I want to believe that in this special night, they are here to bless us with their presence.”

“Like grandma and grandpa?” “Yes, darling,” said Aelin, grabbing on of her daughter’s hand.

“Hi grandma, hi grandpa, I love you.” Aelin almost burst into tears. “I want to believe our parents have crossed the veil and are dancing in the sky to let us know that they are happy of what we have accomplished.“

Aelin hugged her husband “I hope so, buzzard.” In that instant Rowan started singing an old song in the old language. She caught some words, it spoke of dreams, love and missing beloved. It sounded sad, but with a hint of hope at the end. 

Aelin looked up at the sky and her flames in her hands, reacted gently at the energy emitted by the display. She felt alive. In a night to celebrated the dead, that festival of light in the sky made her feel alive. Just like the man and the girl at her side did. Every day. “Thank you for this, Rowan.” His face was still turned to the sky, his eyes closed and bathed in the light of the sky, while Aisling patted his head gently at the rhythm of the song her father was singing.

Mum, dad, I did it. She sent a thought to the sky I have created the better world I promised.

Rowan looked down and caressed her face “you did, fireheart.”

The poignant moment was broken by Aisling’s screams.

In the distance they spotted some dark shapes and Rowan smiled when he recognised the Little Folk. He let his daughter down who ran screaming “fairies.”

When they joined her she was sitting in the snow dejected “the fairies have gone.”

Rowan lifted her in his arms “they left presents, look.”

He picked up three figurines carved in acorns. A hawk, a woman with what looked a big belly and a little one.” “Dada, were they faeries?”

Aisling went back to his shoulder and walked back to the tent. Inside his two women fell asleep at the sound of his voice telling Aisling all about the Little Folk and how they helped her mum and dad.

Once they were asleep he walked out and looked towards the woods and the skies and whispered a silent thank you both the ancient gods and the Little Folk. 

One last goodbye to his and Aelin’s parents and Gavriel and walked back in the tent with his family.

His everything.

His dream.

tags:

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee

#rowan week #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #aelinandrowan #aelin x rowan #rowaelin #rowaelinkids #fluff #post canon

[rowaelinscourt]

ANNOUNCEMENT: Rowan Week

Hello, everyone!

We are pleased to announce that we have another scheduled event coming up soon! A weeklong celebration of our favorite buzzard: Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius!!

When will this take place?

The week of November 6th - 12th

Who can participate?

Anyone! We accept all forms of content, such as fics, moodboards, playlists, art, whatever you can think of! Just make sure you tag @rowaelinscourt and # rowan week when you post!

So... what are the prompts?

Well, we your @rowaelinscourt admin team came up with seven prompts for this celebration all centered around our lovely king! Inverse of our prompts from Aelin Week! And they are:

November 6th: Samhain

November 7th: Rowan and the Cadre

November 8th: Rowan's birthday!!

November 9th: When Aelin is away

November 10th: Dad Rowan

November 11th: Rowan as a child

November 12th: Aelin admiring Rowan

------

Super excited to celebrate our favorite king with all of you!

#rowan week #rowanweek #rowan week 2022 #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #rowaelinscourt #tog #rowan whitethorn

[thethievingrunaway]

Oh it’s Rowan week? Have a portrait of our fave bird boy 🪶

Please do not repost! Reblogs appreciated 😊

@rowaelinscourt

#rowan week #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowaelin fanart #throne of glass #tog #my art

[house-of-galathynius]

Home for Christmas

Rowan Week, Day 4 (November 9th): When Aelin is away

I know we’re still a month out from Christmas, but I’m in the festive mood... so here’s a Rowan Week one-shot! Hope you all enjoy it!

@rowaelinscourt​

                                                           ~ ~ ~ 

Rowan should have been used to spending Christmas alone. He had been doing it since he was nineteen, after all. But he supposed there had been something inside him that had been hoping Aelin would’ve stayed for the holiday anyway— or invited him along to her own family celebration. But all that happened was she had given him a long, lingering kiss before pulling her over-filled suitcase out the front door and into the waiting taxi.

His apartment suddenly felt very empty. Whilst Aelin didn’t actually live there with him, she had managed to accumulate enough stuff to make it seem like she was moved in. And with her excitement about the upcoming Christmas season, she had gone wild with decorating. Every corner of the flat decked out in tinsel or string lights— she’d even gone and purchased a real tree that she had then spent an entire afternoon painstakingly decorating, not letting a single person touch it or help.

But now the sparkling lights, the garlands, the pops of red and gold… all of it was a reminder of his utter loneliness.

Rowan’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he smiled at Aelin’s name, and then huffed a laugh as he read her message.

I know what you’re thinking. DO NOT touch the decorations.

She knew him too well. He replied: Wouldn’t dream of it, Fireheart.

There had been a time when Rowan would have been excited too. He would’ve helped put up the decorations and he would’ve gone to carol services and drunk mulled wine, he would play Christmas music all day and spend Christmas Day drinking and laughing with family.

But he felt cruel celebrating now— when his own family could no longer.

Gods. He hated how mopey he got at this time of year. He had so much to be thankful for.

Aelin, for one.

She had been his absolute saving grace— coming into his life at just the right time. He maintained that she had saved him, and if she had appeared in his life any later than when she did he would have done something stupid.

Their relationship had been a bit of a whirlwind. He had met her two years ago. At first he had been uninterested in anything other than his own pain. In fact, he had found Aelin to be cocky and far too intense for his liking, finding her personality to be irritating— her happy-go-lucky spirit the complete opposite to his grumpy demeanour. But slowly over the next few weeks she had chipped away at his hard exterior and had eventually got him to crack a smile. Rowan looked back on those weeks fondly now. Since then they had been almost inseparable. The two of them never sleeping apart, meeting on their lunch breaks, vacationing together… everything. It still baffled Rowan at how she had broken down his walls so quickly and how fast he had found himself falling in love with this fiery woman.

Luckily, Aelin had felt it too.

And although it was the second Christmas they had spent as a couple, it was only the first that they had been apart. Last year, Aelin had had to take a long shift in the hospital and there was no way she would have been able to get out of it. So despite his aversion to the holiday, Rowan had cooked her favourite Christmas meal, even going as so far to try and bake her favourite cookies, serving them to her in bed after she had returned home. It had been a slow and lazy Christmas but he had never felt happier.

He didn’t begrudge Aelin going home this year. He wanted her to have fun and to celebrate with other people who were just as excited as she was. But he couldn’t deny the sense of disappointment that he hadn’t been able to tag along.

His phone buzzed again and his smile grew at the selfie Aelin had sent him. She was in an over-the-top Christmas jumper that lit up, a Santa hat on her head and a cup of hot chocolate covered in whipped cream in one hand. She was smiling brightly, whipped cream over her top lip, her eyes bright and happy.

Need me to clean you up a bit? He replied cheekily.

You’re definitely on Santa’s naughty list, Rowan.

He laughed and tried to ignore the pang in his chest.

The flat was so quiet, but he decided to turn on some music and grab a book, settling down in the large armchair. He kept reading the same sentence over and over until he officially gave up and put the book down, glancing out the window.

Terrasen winters were brutal and today was proving that. The snow was falling heavily outside, the wind whipping it around. A person was battling against it, holding onto their hat tightly as they tried to find some shelter in a store front. He, for a split second, debated shouting out the window if they needed help, but decided against it— instead heading into the kitchen.

The Christmas spirit had not missed the kitchen either. Aelin had put a tablecloth over the small round table in the corner. It was covered in gingerbread men and candy canes, the obnoxious red of it making Rowan squint. Aelin had also left boxes of sweet treats— four different types of cookies, brownies and a not-so-beautifully iced bundt cake. He had tried to argue with her that he was never going to eat that much food, but she had insisted.

Rowan rummaged in the fridge. Eventually pulling out a beer and some leftover lasagne from the day before. It wasn’t exactly a Christmas feast that he was sure Aelin was going to be having, but it would do.

His parents had always made mountains of food. He could remember having the whole family sat around digging into huge turkeys and a million different side dishes, followed by three or four different desserts. He fondly remembered retiring to the living room afterwards and not moving for hours as he went into a food coma. He hoped that one day he could have that again— probably with Aelin. He wasn’t sure he could ever see himself with anyone else at this point. She had wiggled her way into his life and into his heart completely, and even a day without her was torture.

He ate quietly and checked his phone occasionally, but everyone he knew was busy. So he just aimlessly switched through the channels on the TV instead.

Missing Aelin was always rough. And now more than ever he wanted her to be here. He sent off another text. I miss you.

Seconds later she replied. Love you.

Rowan didn’t have anyone but himself to blame really. His cousins had offered to host Christmas and had invited him. But he hadn’t been back to Wendlyn since his parents had died. He didn’t think he was ready to go back to the village they lived in and see the house— now occupied by new people— or see the church where they were now buried. It had been seven years since they’d died and most people would have moved on. But it was too hard.

Aelin had been instrumental in his healing process though. Not just because she was this happy, bubbly girl. But because she understood his pain and never told him that his hesitance at getting over their deaths needed to sped up. She would sit and listen to him talk about them late at night on a random Tuesday, even when she was barely able to keep her eyes open after working. Nor had she pushed he go back for his cousins wedding or that he needed to respect his parents by visiting their graves. She just… understood.

Gods, he loved her.

He loved her enough that he wandered into his bedroom and pulled open the bedside table drawer and held the small black box in his hand. It had been sat there for a year, taunting him every time he opened it up. He had been struggling to find the right moment— worried that Aelin might think it was too soon or that they were too young. But he knew that someday he would ask her to be his wife. And it was moments— days— like these that made him realised how much he truly wanted her to be his forever.

Rowan was distracted for a second at the sound of car doors slamming shut and the muffled voices of people downstairs. He tucked the ring back into its spot and put it away quickly. He went over the window to see the commotion, but saw nothing but the heavy snow and faint footprints that were soon covered in the white. He was going to go back to the chair and attempt to read again, but he paused as he heard the heavy footsteps up the stairs and then the familiar sound of a key in the door.

He poked his head into the hallway just as the front door opened and he was frozen.

“Surprise!” Aelin shouted, her hands full of bags, her cheeks rosy, snow in her hair. She shuffled in through the door, but he was still frozen in place as he saw her parents come in behind her, then Lysandra and Aedion, Fenrys, Lorcan and Elide…

He shook his head.

Aelin carefully placed the things in her hands on the floor and came up to him, winding her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. Rowan, still completely bewildered, put his own arms around her and held onto her tightly. Kissing her head and pulling back so he could see her face.

“What is this?” He asked.

Aelin grinned. “You really thought I was going to leave you by yourself on Christmas?”

“I don’t…” He laughed lightly, still in utter surprise at the people in front of him. All of them now unloading presents under the tree and food onto the table.

“I know you hate this holiday,” she glanced behind her then back to him, “I know it has a lot of bad memories associated to it. But it doesn’t have to be all bad… and we can make new memories. Together.”

He rested his head against hers. He wasn’t a sentimental person, he was never one to cry. But he could feel the tears forming, could feel the emotion bubbling up inside him. This woman never failed to surprise him and he couldn’t possibly love her more.

“You didn’t need to do this.” He managed to choke out.

Aelin rose on her toes and kissed him gently. “You’re my family too, Rowan.”

He kissed her again. This girl had lugged her entire family and their friends from their own homes in the middle of a blizzard to come here, to make sure that he had a good day too. She had decorated, baked and wrapped presents all the while working twelve hour shifts in a hospital— all for him.

“I love you.” He whispered.

Aelin brushed her nose against his and then kissed him once. “I love you, too.”

Rowan held her tightly for another minute. “I’ll never be able to thank you for this.”

“You don’t need to thank me. You know I’d do anything for you,” she was interrupted by Lorcan complaining about smelling like cinnamon and Elide shushing him promptly. But Aelin just smiled, her eyes shining, “even if it means getting Lorcan to put on an awful Christmas jumper and getting him to play silly games.”

Rowan laughed. “I’m impressed you managed it.”

“I may have offered to take his night shifts for the next month.”

“How can I ever repay you?” Rowan joked.

Aelin’s eyes lit up and she rose her brows. “I have some whipped cream and a very scandalous nightgown in my bag.”

Rowan’s entire body heated and he almost groaned that he couldn’t take her up on the offer then and there.

“Later, buzzard. We have a huge turkey and about a million desserts to get through before you can even think about ravishing me.”

And though he wanted to drag her away into the bedroom and shut the door, ignoring everything and everyone. He let Aelin drag him into the kitchen where he was supplied with copious amounts of whatever Christmas cocktail Lysandra had made up and then handed a plate ladened with food. And by the time they dragged themselves to bed he could barely function and was only able to tuck Aelin into him and hold her close as they both drifted off into sleep.

~ 

Tag List: 

@morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @fredweasleyhasadhd @luckyrunawaycheesecake @live-the-fangirl-life  @fireheart-violet  @charlizeed @scarblx @xo-fangirl-xo  @wordsafterhours @jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival @becarefuloflove @tanvee1231 @viajandosinalas @backtobl4ck @emily-gsh​ @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart​ @becarefuloflove​ @goddess-aelin @thegreyj​ @leiawritesstories​ @nerdperson524

#rowaelin #rowaelin one shot #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan week #rowaelinscourt #rowaelins court #rowan whitethorn #rowan #aelin #aelin ashryver #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan

[sollucets]

— evening sun, jane kenyon

as long as he lives one day, I'll live that day with him.

#word of honor #wenzhou #shl #rowan gifs #userbon #tusermona #lextag #baek1nho #userginpotts #roserayne #tuserashinlae #userpetri #thank u lex and mona and sara for encouragement <3 #i feel like it's a little cheeky to use that tian ya ke quote. hehehe whose perspective did you Think it was from (youre right either way) #sometimes you see a poem and it is sooooooooo them and you projecting on them that you drop everything to work on it for a week and a half #even multiple times the day you are in the hospital #[pats gifset] he is humble but this baby can fit so much rowan's feelings in it

[thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid]

Queen of queens, heart full of the heartless, a rising goddess

@nestaarcheronweek day 1

#rowan’s art #acotar #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #pro nesta #pro nesta archeron #nesta week #nesta archeron week #I honestly hadn’t planned on being on theme #but ayoooo

[mariaofdoranelle]

The Chicks Love It

Rowan Week day 2: Rowan and the Cadre

This is just a silly little fic I wrote (mostly) last night, but I hope you have fun reading it!!

Warnings: language, Fenrys, mild smut, mentions of STD, neon condoms if you’re triggered by that (I am)

Word count: 1,4k

~~~~

“Why didn’t we invite Gable?” Fenrys asked while they were placing their bets.

“Who’s Gable?”

“The one that fucked you on the table.”

Rowan frowned his angriest frown at Fenrys. The boyo wasn’t near as funny as he thought he was. However, Lorcan was cackling at this poor, lousy joke. His friend’s bulky figure was leaning over the table as he punched it and wheezed. And whenever Lorcan Salvaterre smiled, there were only two possible explanations: Elide or beer. Since they were in their monthly dudes only and no wives gathering, it was the latter.

He sat back, ignoring the two dipshits and looked at his watch. Connall and Vaughan went to get snacks in the kitchen forty minutes ago, but Rowan wasn’t drunk enough to go looking for those two. Instead, he focused on the game. Elide didn’t like it when they used money, so Lorcan was making them bet with random objects.

Apart from his phone and wallet, Rowan only had his watch and a chocolate bar he bought for Aelin on his way here. The reasonable choice would be to give away his watch, since it had been cheaper than the chocolate and his wife hated it. On the other hand, Rowan loved that ugly thing. He didn’t love chocolate, that was for sure. But his wife did. His gorgeous wife who was currently saving the world from... something.

He took another sip of his beer, and when he studied the table, his mind went blank. Lorcan had offered his allergy meds, and Fenrys was betting an open package of neon condoms.

Rowan breathed deep and schooled his face. He needed to look stern for this particular confrontation.

“Why are you betting a neon condom?”

Fenrys gaped, offended. “Dude, it glows in the dark.”

“Why would I need my dick to glow in the dark?”

“It looks cool, like a lightsaber or something. The chicks love it.”

Rowan blinked, too afraid to ask what did he mean by chicks.

“What do you mean by chicks?” Lorcan addressed the elephant in the room.

“This girl I was hooking up with last week told me she was a Star Wars fan and I bought it to use with her.”

Lorcan snorted. “And they say romance is dead.”

Fenrys waved the opened condom package at Rowan. “Come on, man. They’re green!”

Frowning, Rowan gathered all his inner strength to not accept this. He was very easily persuaded by the color green. But then he took off his watch and let it go. It was too late to try to reason with Fenrys, of all people.

˜˜

“Dr. Whitethorn?”

Aelin hummed, focused on her paperwork.

“Your husband is here, he’s—“

“What happened?” she asked in a beat, her eyes snapping to her intern in a millisecond.

The boy’s eyes went wide. “No! I- I mean, he’s not a patient! He’s just asking for you.”

Aelin’s whole body relaxed and she sighed. “God, we need to go over on how to give news to people.”

She hurried to the unusually calm ER, and saw from a distance Rowan and Fenrys bickering, and Lorcan drowsing with his head hang. She approached them, but not before taking a picture and sending to Elide.

“I’m not naive enough to ask what happened to Connall and Vaughan.” Aelin closed the privacy curtain. “Where’s my patient?”

Fenrys relaxed on his seat wiggled his eyebrows at Aelin, and she already knew what was coming.

“My name’s Fenrys, but you can call me anytime.”

Rowan immediately slapped the back of his friend’s head. “My wife!” He pointed at his wedding band. “Wife!” And then pointed at Aelin. “Mine.” At last, his index finger darted between the two of the repeatedly. “Marriage.”

Fenrys was cackling, and when Rowan turned to Aelin for reassurance, his wife’s reaction wasn’t much different. She was wheezing, with both hands resting on her knees while Rowan frowned at her. A gentle rub between his eyebrows and a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose were quick to soothe his indignation, though. Despite Fenrys’ manwhore reputation, he has always respected his friends’ relationships, and they all knew he only hit on Aelin to tease Rowan. Still, her husband took the bait every time.

“So, what’s the occasion?”

“I won the game.” Rowan beamed, proud of himself.

Aelin chuckled, entertained by Drunk Buzzard. “And that’s why you’re here?”

“Oh. We need to test Fenrys.”

“And I’m waiting for Ellie,” Lorcan said, blinking after being woken up from his nap.

Elide was with a patient now, but Aelin wasn’t going to say anything. Letting Lorcan suffer for a while was always the best option.

“What are we testing Fenrys for?”

Rowan’s face looked somber when he said, “Everything.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Okay... Could you enlighten me?”

Like it was obvious, he sighed, exasperated. “Syphilis, HIV, chlamydia—“

“STDs, then.”

Rowan nodded, and Fenrys grinned.

“Is there a particular reason we’re doing all these tests?”

Her husband’s eyebrows went up. “It’s Fenrys!”

Fenrys was still grinning. “It’s me!”

“He was telling me stories,” Rowan continued, “Concerning stories.”

Aelin chuckled. “Okay, then.” And looked around. “Where’s Lorcan?”

The other two seemed as confused as she was with Lorcan’s disappearance, but they decided to let go. A brute that size couldn’t be hard to find.

After requesting Fenrys’ blood tests, Aelin went to do some other tasks before her shift ended. It wouldn’t take long, so she’d be able to drive them home.

When she was on her way to see a patient, she noticed one of the rooms had the door opened, and Aelin could make out a few words coming from inside.

Sir, we need this room for—

And a lot of grumbles coming from the other person.

Aelin entered the room to see what was going on, and it turns out Lorcan Salvaterre was sleeping on a very tiny cot, and the security officer was trying to convince him to get up so a real patient could have it.

Looking at the security’s exasperated expression, Aelin knew what to do. She hated it came to such drastic measures, but it had to be done.

“Don’t worry, I’m paging Elide.”

Lorcan finally turned to her, eyes half-closed. “Where’s Ellie?”

˜˜

After making sure his friends were taken care of, Rowan was finally home with his wife. Apart from the awkward part where Aelin had to tell Fenrys he had genital herpes, everything went smoothly. Fenrys pretended to be shocked while Aelin pretended to not know about that beforehand. They had no idea Rowan gossiped everything to his wife after boys’ night, and thankfully she helped him keep up the ruse.

He was waiting for Aelin after a hot shower when she appeared before him wearing nothing but one of his shirts. The moment she laid down by his side, Rowan didn’t spare a second before kissing her.

“Buzzard.” She moaned when his mouth went to her neck. “I’m so tired.”

“But you love morning sex.”

“When I’ve slept the night before,” Aelin said while softly chuckling.

Rowan left his spot on her neck and frowned in mock-indignation. She smiled at him, and he pecked her lips before tucking her in. Teenage Rowan would be disgusted to discover his future self finds having sex equally as satisfying as falling asleep spooning his wife as he smelled her lavender scented hair, but he wouldn’t have it in any other way.

However, Aelin soon started to grind herself against his erection. The tease.

He groaned. “Fireheart, are you sure?”

Going back to his previous spot on her neck, her whimper was response enough until his hand sneaked between her thighs, making her grind against his fingers.

“Greedy much?”

“I need you inside me,” she rasped.

Rowan kissed her lips once more until he grabbed the first condom he could reach, almost tumbling over himself with anticipation. Aelin used that moment to take off the shirt, and he gave attention to her breasts while putting protection on with his remaining hand.

Leaning back a little to adjust themselves, Rowan was almost set when his wife interrupted him.

“Buzzard, why is your dick glowing?”

“Thanks, babe.” Rowan did appreciate his own dick. He was glad his wife felt the same.

Chuckling, Aelin rested her head on his shoulder. “No, I mean...” The chuckles became a full laughter. “Honey.” She was cackling now, and Rowan’s shoulders tensed. Maybe this wasn’t an appreciative comment after all.

Wheezing, she managed to say, “Babe, your dick is literally glowing.”

When Rowan looked down, he noticed that his wife was right. His penis was neon green, shining like a lightsaber. Just like his friend described.

He was going to kill Fenrys.

TAG LIST

@autumnbabylon

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@leiawritesstories

@rowanaelinn

@thegreyj

@rowaelinscourt

#rowan week #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #the cadre #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowaelinscourt

[cressida-jayoungr]

One Dress a Day Challenge

The Men of September

Blackadder II / Rowan Atkinson as Edmund, Lord Blackadder

Even though this is "just" a very funny comedy show, costume designer Annie Hardinge really gave it her all. The costumes are better and more authentic-looking than some seen in serious costume dramas. Lord Blackadder dresses all in black with touches of silver and red, which not only fits his personality but was very fashionable at the time. The snake-and-dagger design on his sleeves is really beautiful and intricate, as is the ornamentation on the cape. And he's got a proper ruff!

Note: The picture with Baldrick is actually from Blackadder's Christmas Carol, but it seems to be either the same costume or an identical one.

#blackadder ii #the men of september #rowan atkinson #one dress a day challenge #one dress a week challenge #television costumes #tv costumes #period drama #blackadder #renaissance style #renaissance costumes #elizabethan era #elizabethan style #elizabethan fashion #16th century #16th century fashion #annie hardinge #blackadder's christmas carol #wonderful capes

[leiawritesstories]

Little Hawk

Rowan Week, Day 2/Day 6: Rowan and the Cadre/Rowan as a child

@rowaelinscourt

Word count: 3,536 oops

Warnings: some language, Maeve, lil bit of angst smol child Rowan hehe, HAPPY FLUFFY SOFT ENDING I PROMISE

Enjoy!

A/N: any excuse for alternate canon is a good excuse ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A winter storm brewed high in the mountains of Mistward on the night Rowan Whitethorn was born.

Enna and Pyotr Whitethorn had been trying to conceive a child for centuries without success. They had all but given up hope and accepted that the rarity of Fae children had left its mark on their family when Enna unexpectedly found out she was pregnant.

Pyotr spent the next nine months in full hovering, territorial, brooding Fae male protective mode, of course. They had been married for centuries; despite the lack of supernatural bond between them, they were still just as attuned to each other as mates or carranam would be. Enna put up with her husband's brooding, tease him though she did about his incessant hovering.

But it was all worth it for their son.

Rowan Whitethorn screamed his way into the world on a dark, snowy winter's night, his infant cry drowning out the whistling winds.

Enna laughed through her tears as she cradled the tiny boy to her chest, gazing down at his bright, pine green eyes as his cries calmed in his mother's arms. "Hello, my little hawk," she whispered, softly caressing the tuft of silvery hair on his little head.

As if her words had imbued him with power, little Rowan shuddered and sneezed.

And two soft, downy, white-tailed hawk's feathers fluttered off of his head.

He did not actually shift into his animal form until he was five hears old, much to his parents' relief.

~

Practically from the day he started to walk, Rowan had a sword in his hand. Pyotr gifted his toddler son a small, harmless wooden toy sword, which little Rowan hauled around with him everywhere, cooing and giggling whenever he smacked a rock or a shrub or a pile of leaves with his toy. Once he was steady enough, his father taught him how to actually swing the toy sword, grinning proudly when he mastered it within hours.

"He's got the makings of a great warrior, my love," Pyotr murmured fondly to his wife as they watched their five-year-old son easily swing his blunted child's sword through the simple series of maneuvers he'd been taught.

"Why does that scare me a little?" Enna asked, leaning into her husband's side, a smile edged with concern sliding onto her face.

Pyotr kissed her silver head, embracing her tighter. "I'll train him, I promise."

"I know you will," she whispered, inhaling sharply when Rowan swung a little too enthusiastically, accidentally flinging the sword down to the stone floor of the courtyard. In the process, of course, the wooden handle hit his foot.

Rowan yelped in shock and pain and childish outrage, hopping on his good foot and clutching his bashed one.

There was a flash of bright green light.

And a young, downy, white-tailed hawk stood in Rowan's place in the courtyard.

The little hawk's bright, alert eyes stared around, taking in the sudden change in location with no small amount of surprise and wordless shock. And then he screeched, flapping his small wings frantically and managing to launch himself a few feet into the air before landing again and half-running, half-fluttering in circles, agitatedly screeching.

Only a few short moments after the unexpected shift, there was another bright flash, and Rowan stood in his Fae form once again, shaking his arms and legs as if to reassure himself he had limbs again, rather than wings and taloned feet.

The first thing he did upon confirming he was himself again was sprint over to Enna and bury his face in her skirts, clutching her legs, his small body shaking.

"Oh, my little hawk," Enna cooed, scooping him into her arms and hugging him tightly, soothing his terror. "It's alright, I'm right here."

"M-m-mum," Rowan whimpered, twining his arms around her neck, grasping her like his lifeline. "What was that?"

"You shifted," she said plainly, stroking her fingers through his pale hair.

"Shifted?" His terror rapidly gave way to curiosity.

"Yes, shifted." Pyotr rubbed his son's back comfortingly. "You, like me, have an animal form as well as a Fae form."

"What's that mean?" Rowan hadn't quite grasped the concept.

"Watch, my son." Pyotr stepped into the middle of the courtyard, rolled his neck, and shifted in a flash of green. Rowan blinked and saw an adult hawk in place of his father, gaping as the hawk launched himself into the air and flew a few loops before landing gracefully and shifting back into Pyotr's familiar form. "That's shifting, my son."

Rowan's jaw hung open. "I wanna do that!" he crowed. "Show me, Da!"

Pyotr chuckled. "We need to start slow, little hawk. But your enthusiasm is a very good thing."

"I wanna fly!" Rowan declared, tugging his father's sleeve. "Please?"

"You will, little hawk." Pyotr swung Rowan up and tossed him into the air, catching him as he laughed with a child's glee. "You will."

~

Rowan was nearly fifteen before he had anything resembling mastery over his shifting, and even then, his gangly teenage limbs often caused him to stumble as he shifted back into Fae form, cursing under his breath at the readjustment to Fae proportions.

"Having trouble, birdbrain?"

"Shut it, pup," Rowan grumbled, flipping a foul gesture at the lanky blonde Fae to his left.

Fenrys Moonbeam snickered. "Hey, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you."

"Piss off," Rowan snorted, chuckling a little. "Are you ever serious, Moonbeam?"

"Not a strength of mine." Fenrys flashed him a grin. "You still up to be my sparring partner?"

"Hell yes." Rowan threw a vicious smirk over his shoulder. "Someone has to knock you on your ass every once in a while, yeah?"

"Fair enough," Fen laughed. "See you at training!"

Rowan, Fenrys and his twin Connall, and their friend Vaughan had all been training with Gavriel since they were old enough to properly train. The older Fae was about the same age as Rowan's parents, and he was one of the most famous living Fae of the age. Gavriel, the Lion--the whispers rippled around the wide-eyed group of young Fae the first day their instructor appeared.

When they arrived at the training grounds that day, though, a curious silence permeated the mountain air.

Fenrys, of course, broke it. "What's going on?"

"Bit of an excursion," Gavriel replied, the warrior's face tight with something oddly close to concern. "Don't get all excited, Moonbeam, it's nothing terribly momentous."

The solid black carriage that pulled into the courtyard almost the instant the words were out of Gav's mouth begged to differ.

"Holy shit!" Fenrys gasped, goggling at the insignia on the carriage door. "That's--"

"Let's go, boys," Gav interrupted. "Her Majesty doesn't like waiting."

~

The four young Fae were uncharacteristically silent as the carriage pulled up in front of the great stone castle.

Gavriel swung open the door and leapt out, nodding his encouragement to the teenage Fae. "There's no need to worry," he reassured them calmly, extending one hand. "Her Majesty simply wishes to meet the new crop of warriors, as she does each time there is a new group."

Somewhat calmed by that, Rowan took Gavriel's hand and swung himself down. "Shouldn't keep the Queen waiting, then."

"Indeed not," Connall agreed, jumping down gracefully and tugging his twin with him. "C'mon, Fen, think of Her Majesty as just another Fae female. Only this one has a crown."

Fen snorted something under his breath, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from his brother. "Ouch! Hell, it wasn't that crude!"

"You keep telling yourself that."

Quietly, escorted by four blank-faced demi-Fae guards, they made their way into the palace, following the guards down the silent marble halls until they reached a set of great mahogany double doors, the wood inlaid with glittering veins of ebony. The throne room. Suddenly conscious of himself, Rowan straightened his posture, trying to present himself as much like the Whitethorn prince he was as possible. And he wasn't the only one--Fen and Con and Vaughan also straightened up, putting their shoulders back and placing carefully blank looks on their faces.

The doors swung open, creaking like the wintry wind that curled around the towers.

Almost in unison, the four boys walked up the interminable length of the throne room, their boots clicking against the polished black marble tiles, following Gavriel up to the dais at the front of the cavernous hall. Rowan caught a brief glimpse of his parents standing to the side among the group of nobility, knowing they were probably there at the queen's command.

"Majesty," Gav bowed, dropping to one knee. The four of them followed suit, kneeling in deference to their queen.

Queen Maeve let them kneel for a moment, then tapped her polished nails on the armrest of her ebony throne. "Rise." Smooth as silk and fluid as water, her voice spilled over each of them.

Rowan contained the slight shudder that ran through him at the feeling of the queen's command, having the oddest prickle of a sense that she could see right through all of them.

"The newest trainees, Your Majesty," Gavriel announced, gesturing to the four teenage Fae standing rigidly upright, eyes cased like he'd trained them. "Prince Rowan Whitethorn, Lords Fenrys and Connall Moonbeam, Lord Vaughan Recorre."

Queen Maeve swept her gaze over each of the young warriors one at a time, her dark eyes calculating, considering. She tilted her head to the side, a tiny hint of a smile curling the corner of her crimson lips. "You've done well, Lion."

"I thank you, Your Majesty."

"They are ready, then?"

"If it were up to my discretion?" Gav shook his head. "They need more training before they ought to enter the legions. But Your Majesty always knows best."

"Well spoken," Maeve purred. She turned her serpentine, otherworldly smile onto Rowan. Onto his friends. "I have an offer for you, my young warriors."

Rowan tried to ignore the icy shiver that snaked down his spine at the queen's words, at the unnerving smile on her porcelain face. Tried, and failed.

"How would you like to join the legion of the bloodsworn?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Rowan saw both of his parents stiffen slightly, that word striking something in them. His brows furrowed in confusion, wondering why his mother and father, two of the strongest Fae he knew, would react like that.

The queen, of course, noticed his confused expression. "Prince Rowan," she hummed, drawing his attention to her. "You have a question?"

Rowan didn't even want to know how she'd formed that conclusion. "I...Your Majesty, I don't understand what being bloodsworn means?"

Maeve's smile expanded, the crimson stain of her lips curving across her pale face. "Would you like to know, little hawk?"

A bolt of ice shot down his spine at the queen's use of his parents' familiar nickname, every nerve in his body freezing. Would you like to know?

He'd been trapped.

She knew--somehow, she knew--that he would ask, and she'd trapped him into either accepting this blood swearing without knowing what it was or risking his own neck by saying no.

Before he could speak, though, Fenrys stepped forward, lowering himself to one knee. "I would accept, my queen."

Maeve's black gaze fixed onto the blonde Fae, taking in the surety in his posture, his voice. "You would swear yourself to your queen by blood, Lord Fenrys Moonbeam?"

"It would be my honor, Majesty." Fenrys never wavered.

The queen nodded. "And so you shall, Lord Moonbeam." Withdrawing a slender steel blade from her sleeve, she sliced her forearm. "Come."

As if pulled by some supernatural force, Fenrys rose and approached the throne, knelt again, and placed his lips to the queen's small wound, taking a taste of her blood. When Fen lifted his face, Rowan could have sworn he saw blackness flicker in Fen's dark eyes, but he quickly brushed it off as a trick of the light.

"My queen," Fenrys repeated, kneeling again.

Maeve graced the young lord with a serpentine smile. "My sworn white wolf."

So that was it, the blood oath. Take the queen's blood and thereby swear to her one's life.

Ever so slightly, Enna Whitethorn inclined her head, something Rowan couldn't--wouldn't--name flickering across her face. Go.

So Rowan stepped forwards, knelt at the foot of the dais, and with a voice that somehow felt detached from him, he swore himself to his queen. "It would be my highest honor, Majesty."

"Come."

Come, whispered a dark, ancient voice within Rowan's mind, reaching oily tendrils around his mind and tugging him forwards to meet the queen, to touch his lips to her pale, cool skin, to taste the thick copper tang of her blood.

"Welcome to my sworn warriors, little hawk," Maeve smiled, her voice oozing through his very blood, slick as oil and deadly as steel at the same time.

Connall and Vaughan knelt too, swore their oaths, and accepted the queen's blood, forever binding their lives to their queen's will.

"My cadre," the queen pronounced them, pride and...and something more sinister ringing in her tone. "I see great things for you, my young warriors." As they knelt, she waved her hand. "Go, keep training. I will call for you when I know you are ready."

Something in those words turned Rowan's very blood to ice.

~

The queen's summons awoke him in the darkest hours of the night.

Come. Wake up, little hawk.

Blinking groggily in the thick velvety darkness, Rowan reached blindly for his weapons, strapping his steel to his body and pulling on his boots and following the queen's nudges until he was out in the forest, calmed by the familiar whispers of the trees and the wildlife.

Shift, little hawk.

In hawk form, Rowan hopped up into a tree, launching himself into the night sky from there. Maeve's voice in his mind, in his blood, directed him out over the forest, no time to appreciate the beauty of the night before he was descending into a clearing and shifting back into his Fae body, hand creeping unconsciously to the knife strapped to his thigh.

For he was not alone in the clearing, as evidenced by the warm, golden, gently flickering firelight.

Tread silent on the carpeting of pine needles, Rowan approached the golden sphere of firelight, the queen's firm hand on his blood guiding him to draw his knife, readying his muscles for the pounce.

Until he stopped short, stunned by the female sitting in the sphere of flame, her golden hair loose, fanning about her, its rich color mingling with the hue of the flames she cast.

Maeve's ever-present voice interrupted his momentary reverie.

Kill her.

Rowan blinked. She is a threat, Majesty?

Do you question my orders, little hawk?

Of course not, my queen. Rowan tightened his grip on the hilt of his knife. I would not have flagged this female as a threat, that is all.

Such a softhearted little hawk, the queen crooned. Kill her.

Knowing better than to say anything else, Rowan crept up behind the female, still silent, still unnoticed until he coated his free hand in ice to ward off the fire and caught the female by the neck, placing the razor-sharp point of his knife to her throat, just pricking the skin, a drop of blood welling up at his knife's point.

It was at that moment that all of his instincts screeched to a halt, overridden by the power of the female's blood.

Mate mate mate mate mate.

Rowan's hand shook, completely rattled by the overpowering realization. The female--his mate--was so still in his grasp, wordless, her flames rippling around her hands as if in defense.

Rowan.

Little hawk. Maeve was impatient now, getting ready to invade his mind and take over his body, something she had only done once during the time in which he had been bloodsworn to her.

Rowan would never forget the chilling wrongness of being shoved to the side in his own body, of helplessly watching as the queen, moving his limbs like a puppeteer, committed a slaughter.

Little hawk. Louder now, more insistent, his arm twitching as he fought between his queen's order and his mate's instincts. Rowan. Kill. Her.

Tears erupted from Rowan's eyes. "I'm sorry," he croaked, his knife rattling, shuddering, settling against flesh and blood and bone as the queen reached through his mind and body and forced him to--

ROWAN.

"Rowan!"

Rowan jerked awake, sweat coating his torso, shuddering and shaking and blinking in the soft, flickering light of his wife's flames. Aelin's hands laid against his chest, pressed to his heartbeat, her eyes wide with fear.

"Rowan," she murmured, sliding one hand up to cup his cheek, "it was just a dream, my love."

He loosed a shuddering sigh, twining his arms around his wife, his mate, his queen, who pulled him close and let him lay his head against her neck, sensing her steady pulse. "It felt so real."

"She's gone, my love." Softly, tenderly, Aelin's fingers stroked through his hair, quieting the thundering of his heartbeat. "She's gone. It was just a dream."

Rowan rested his head in the crook of Aelin's neck, drawing lungfuls of her familiar, grounding scent, her presence calming him slowly. He didn't know or particularly care how much time passed before he lifted himself away from her neck, resettling them both back in bed, still wrapped in her embrace.

Aelin kissed his temple, tracing the flowing ink of his tattoo down the side of his face. "I'm right here, buzzard."

Eternally comforted by her presence, Rowan curled into her warmth, soothed, the nightmare fading in the light of Aelin's flames. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply in the scent of his wife, and was finally teetering on the edge of sleep when their bedroom door creaked open and soft scratching footsteps crept into the room.

Instantly, he was on high alert, muscles tensed and ready to spring.

Aelin, more levelheaded than him at the moment, cast a stronger light outward, illuminating the small figure who'd entered the queen and king's bedroom, his big green eyes welling with tears, a soft blanket clutched to his chest.

"M-mama? Dada?"

"Come here, my little love," Aelin murmured, rolling out of bed and striding across the room, scooping her seven-year-old son into her arms.

Brannon Whitethorn Galathynius twined his arms around his mother's neck, burying his face into her shoulder, his small body shaking with sobs and terror. "Mama," he repeated, his small voice cracking.

"I'm right here, Bran," Aelin reassured him, holding him tight, stroking through his messy blonde curls. "Did you have a scary dream?"

As if the words set him off, Bran released a massive sob, clinging tighter to his mother. "Yeah," he cried, his tears soaking through her nightgown.

"Oh, little love," she whispered, settling into bed with her son close to her chest. "It was just a dream, B. It's not real, I promise."

He sniffled, wiping his eyes with a small fist. "Where's Dada?"

"Right here," Rowan murmured, wrapping his arms around Aelin and Bran from behind, rubbing his son's back. "Did you have a bad dream too, little hawk?"

"Mhmm." Bran nodded, still clinging to Aelin even as he peeked over her shoulder, finding his father's steady, even gaze. "Scary dream, Dada."

"Come here, little hawk," Rowan whispered, reassuring Aelin with a gentle caress down the bond as she shifted Bran into his arms, letting their small son cling to his father. "What happened?"

Bran sniffled. "Monster."

"A big one?"

"Yeah." Bran sniffled, reaching up to touch Rowan's tattoos. "Big scary monster chasing me. An' it..." His eyes welled with fresh tears, some spilling down his soft cheeks. "It...said you were all gone, Dada."

"Ah, my son," Rowan murmured, his broad hand spanning his son's back, "stupid monsters can't get me."

Bran managed a half-smile, sniffling. "Had to see Dada."

"Well, here I am, little hawk." Rowan kissed his son's messy head. "If any big scary monsters try to get me, I promise you I'll rip them into shreds."

"So violent," Aelin teased softly, poking his side.

Anything to make my boy know he's safe.

You're an old sap, buzzard. She leaned into his back, pressing a whisper-soft kiss to his shoulder. You've no right to be so endearing at this unholy hour.

His tears drying, Bran snuggled contentedly into his father's arms. "I wanna stay, Dada."

Rowan's lips quirked up, his eyes flicking to Aelin's. "Because your room is scary?"

Bran nodded, blinking sleepily. "No wanna more monsters."

Aelin's soft laughter floated through the room. "Of course you can stay, little love," she whispered, tucking Bran's blanket around him.

Nearly back asleep now, Bran yawned, a big sound for such a small boy. "Night Mama, night Dada."

"Good night, little hawk," Rowan returned softly, settling Bran into the big bed between his parents. "I love you."

Bran mumbled something that sounded vaguely like love you dada, making Rowan's eyes well up with tears of his own.

In three and a half hundred years, he'd never have guessed that he would be so blessed.

~~~

TAGS:

@charlizeed

@cretaceous-therapod

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@nerdperson524

@fireheartwhitethorn4ever

@morganofthewildfire

@rowanaelinn

@wesupremeginger

@stardelia

@shanias-world

@mybloodrunsblue

@swankii-art-teacher

@wordsafterhours

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@violet-mermaid7

@holdthefrickup

@goddess-aelin

@rowaelinismyotp

@dealfea

@irondork

@elentiyawhitethorn

@live-the-fangirl-life

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

@chronicchthonic14

@lovely-dove-zee

@sweet-but-stormy

@hanging-from-a-cliff

@jorjy-jo

@rowaelinrambling

@thegreyj

@silentquartz

@backtobl4ck

@throneofus7

@elizarikaallen

@llyncooljones

@booknerdproblems

@julemmaes

@earthtolinds

#my writing #rowan week #rowan whitethorn #and family #alternate canon #pre canon #is that a thing? #it is now #mwahaha #fluff #mostly fluff #oh and also ANGST #hehehehe #rowaelin

[morganofthewildfire]

Rowan Week Day 1: Samhain/Samhuinn

For day one of Rowan week I made a moodboard, references the scene in the beginning of Koa while they’re looking for Aelin!

I wanted to write a fic but I ran out of time lol

@rowaelinscourt

#Rowan week

[tomtenadia]

Rowan week - Day 4 & 5 - Rite of passage

Good morning/ evening,/ night.

So here I am with another contribution for Rowan week. I had put it down for Day 5 only, then I realised it covered Day 4 as well so Yay!!

Here we have Rowan dealing with a distressed Maya on her first period.

CW: blood, periods and all things related to this.

@rowaelinscourt

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RITE OF PASSAGE

It was Sunday afternoon and Rowan was on the sofa watching an hockey game. His two younger kids on the carpet playing in front of him and Maya, his eldest back in her room. They had just come back from the airport where they had dropped off Aelin. She had to go to Antica for a few days for work and they had all been sad. Maya apparently was the one who took it the worst way, she had been in a bad mood all morning.

He sighed and went back to the tv until he heard the door open and saw his daughter stomp to the bathroom “You okay?”

“No.” She grumbled, slamming the door very hard. Rowan sighed and tried again to watch the game, while keeping an eye on the two wee ones on the carpet.

“DAD!” At his daughter’s scream he jumped up and ran to the door “are you okay?”

He heard cries through the door and started panicking “Maya, what happened?”

“I am bleeding.”

Rowan burst into the bathroom with panic rising fast but stopped dead when he noticed the blood-stained knickers at her feet.

“Oh,” that was all he said. “Dad, what’s happening?”

Rowan had no idea how to react. This should have been Aelin’s job. He had no idea of the emotional turmoil that such event would cause. He knew of the physical pain because he spent enough time looking after his wife dealing with it. But he was a man. He felt helpless and had no idea how to best comfort his daughter.

“Stay there.”

He closed the door and ran to grab his phone.

“Dada, is Maya okay?” The question had come from Thomas who was now standing looking at him.

“Yes, Tom, she is fine. Go back playing with Freyja.” He kissed the boy’s head and grabbed his phone to call Aelin and hoping she would answer.

Aelin answered at the first ring.

“Miss me already, buzzard? I just got to my room, quite fancy I must admit— ”

Rowan stopped her “Maya got her first period,” his voice laced with pure panic “What do I do? Aelin I am a man, how do I…” a ragged breath left his lips “She is scared and I don’t know what to do… and what about showing her how to use feminine products? I buy them for you, but that’s all my knowledge.”

“Ro, listen to me, breathe…”

He closed his eyes and let the panic flow out of his system.

“Maya and I had a chat a while ago. I did mention to her what might happen very soon, but although she knew, it’s always scary when it finally happens.”

“How do I help her?”

“The same way you help me every month.” A light chuckle “There are supplies in the sink cabinet. Tell her to stick to pads for now, she knows how to use them. I will show her the other options later. But that needs to be a girl on girl conversation.”

“Ok,” he said feeling a little calmer. He definitely could look after his daughter “I miss you already, we all do.’

“I know. I do too. It’s just a few days. I love you all. Peanut misses you all too.”

Rowan smiled. Aelin was pregnant again. They had taken the task of having a big family quite seriously. He said his goodbyes to his wife and went back to the bathroom.

“Dad…”

He kneeled in front of her and caressed Maya’s face “I talked to mum, she said you had a chat already.’

Maya nodded heavily.

“Are you in pain?”

“Yes, my stomach and my back.”

He stood and grinned, walking to the bathtub “I might be a bit useless in helping you with the technical side, but I am really good at looking after your mum when she is on her cycle,” he walked around the bathroom and gathered all Aelin’s salts and began preparing the bath “Your mum loves soaking in a warm bath, she says it helps a lot. Then we can sit on the sofa with a hot water bottle and eat ice cream while watching tv with your brother and sister.”

She looked up at him, green eyes meeting their copy “I’d love that.”

“Good, keep an eye on the water, I’ll go and grab you some clean clothes.”

Her soft hand grabbed his “Thanks, dad.”

He kissed her head and walked out. The two youngest were still playing “Dad is looking after Maya, can you stay here and play? I will come back soon.”

“Yes, dada.” Replied the two wee ones.

Rowan ran to Maya’s bedroom and took some fresh knickers and her pyjama.

Once in the bathroom he deposited the clean clothes on the washing machine and went to check that the water was as bubbly as Aelin did it “Your mum, loves it.”

Water ready he turned and let Maya disrobe and climb into the tub and disappear under all of the bubbles.

He turned at kneeled at her head, his hand caressing his daughter’s long silver hair “is this going to happen every months now?”

Rowan nodded, while brushing her hair “I am sorry, my love.”

“It sucks.”

A chuckle left his lips “I know, your mum complains every time. She get really unwell.”

“Is that why you know what to do?”

“Yes,” he dunked her head under the water. He refrained from telling his daughter that he had panicked. Mentally he was ready for the event to happen. Maya was eleven and Aelin had told him that was the age when it was expected to start. But in those instants he had panicked and realised he hadn’t been as ready as he believed.

He grabbed a dollop of shampoo and started spreading it on her hair while Maya, relaxed and closed her eyes. 

“Mum will show you what to use for protection, but for now she recommended me you stick with pads. I doubt you want your dad showing how you to use tampons.”

Maya giggled “I love you dad, but I think I will spare you that.”

“Which conditioner do you want?”

His daughter pointed to a specific one and he went back to washing her head “Some of the other girls at school got it already. I knew it might happen. I just…”

“Shhh.”

Maya sobbed hard and his heart broke.

“I was so scared for a minute, until I remembered what mum said.”

Rowan pulled her to his chest, not caring that his t-shirt was getting wet, he could not bear his daughter in pain “You mum told me that she ran to grandma and started screaming that she was dying and then made a scene of collapsing on the bed.”

They both laughed “Always the drama queen.”

“That she can be…” he added with a smile “I just want you to remember that this is normal, there is nothing to be ashamed of and I can help too. If boys at school make fun of you ignore them. They will soon go through their own embarrassing way of growing up.”

Maya kissed her father’s cheek “you are the best dad.”

“I do my best,” he then stood in a powerful motion and grabbed a towel “come on, young lady, the water is getting cold. Get dressed and dry. I will prepare the ice cream and tv.”

He stopped one second “Will you manage?”

Maya nodded “mum showed me how to use pads. I will be fine.”

Rowan left the bathroom and went to the other two kids “Do you want ice cream?”

Screams of joy erupted from the younger ones “sit on the sofa, Maya will come soon.”

His two kids left all of their toys on the carpet and went to sit quietly. Thomas was seven and his mother copy, hair as golden as her and eyes just as blue with a fierce ring of gold. Freyja was only three and was a mix of both. Her hair was silver but the eyes were Aelin’s. And now they had another girl on her way and as Rowan looked at his family he felt a deep sense feeling of being complete.

Maya eventually came out and he walked to her with a glass and a pill and a hot water bottle under his arm “Go sit,” she did that and he gave her the pill “this should calm the pain,” he then passed the hot water bottle with a furry green cover “Tuck it in your trousers, the fur prevents you to get scalded.”

“Dada, is Maya sick?” Asked the little boy.

“Your sister has a bit of tummy ache, so now we all stay together and keep her company.”

Thomas climbed at his big sister’s side and hugged her “ice cream will fix it. Mum says that chocolate is the best.”

Maya kissed her brother “I feel better already.”

He grinned and Freyja climbed on her sister’s lap.

Rowan started to protest but Maya nodded she was fine with it.

He disappeared in the kitchen and came back with the ice cream he had promised. The hockey game forgotten he let his kids decide what to watch, while he sat at Maya’s side, his arm reaching behind her back and Thomas snuggled against him.

It was later that evening when he woke up. The kids had all joined him in the big bed. He turned and saw the two wee ones snuggled against their big sister.

Silently he stood and padded to the living room and called Aelin.

“Hi, fireheart.”

“Can’t sleep buzzard?”

“The kids have taken over the bed.”

He heard Aelin chuckle “how did it go?”

“I drew a bath for Maya, she relaxed, then they had ice cream and tv. We all watched Totoro and Kiki’s delivery service.”

“I am sorry I was not there for Maya, that was an important rite of passage.”

“I talked to her, I hope I had done it correctly. I felt so helpless….” Anguish seeping from his words.

“Oh Ro,” he could not miss the deep love from just those two words “I am sure you have done a wonderful job. You are a loving dad.”

He chuckled “You are biased.”

“No buzzard. You really are a wonderful dad. What you did today for Maya would probably have sent many other men running, I certainly know a few who would have reacted that way. You didn’t and I didn’t think it was possible for me to love you even more than what I already do.”

Rowan sighed “I miss you already, it has only been a day.”

“I am such a missable creature.”

“And that’s the sass back.”

“You love it, old man.”

“That I do.”

“Now, I better go to bed, I have an early morning business breakfast and I need some beauty sleep.”

“Good night, fireheart.”

“Good night, buzzard. Kiss the kids. Peanut and I will be be back in two days.”

He said goodbye to his wife and walked back to the bedroom. On the threshold he stopped to look at his kids.

“I love you all,” he whispered softly.

Then climbed back in bed with them and Rowan fell asleep surrounded by his children.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee

#rowaelin fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin x rowan #rowan week #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin galathynius #rowaelinkids #fluff #hurt/comfort

[rowaelinscourt]

2022 Calendar of Events

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Hello!! It's @rowaelinscourt back again with some more events!! We've been busy working on planning the rest of the events for the calendar year, and just wanted to share in advance the tentative dates so everyone can get super excited!!!

More details will be coming soon for each event specifically, but below you'll find a -

2022 calendar showing the events

brief explanation of each event

We're very excited for everything we have planned, and we hope you are too!! If you have any questions, shoot us a message!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TOG Anniversary Event

To celebrate our beloved series' 10th anniversary this year, we are holding a celebration event for it in the beginning of august, corresponding with the first book's release date of August 2nd, 2012!! As of right now, we are thinking of assigning each day a specific book, hoping to spread our joy and love for the series as a whole. (More details coming soon)

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Rowaelin Month

Because of the anniversary event, we've decided that this year (and this year only) we're shortening Rowaelin Month down to two weeks instead of the full month, in order to avoid burn out and not overcrowd the schedule with too much!! But we still encourage everyone to spend the month writing all the rowaelin they can, as it is still rowaelin's month. We'll be sharing more details on prompts and tagging for that soon!!

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Rowan Week

This is a new event being added onto the schedule!! With the addition of Aelin Week this May, it felt right to create a celebration for our beloved bird boy. As this is a new event, details are still being sorted out, but we hope to have more information for you soon!

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12 Days of Rowaelin

We are reprising this event for the 2022-23 holiday season! Beginning the 25th of December and stretching through the beginning of January! This one will likely be structured the same as last year, but as it is so far away still, we won't have more details for you for a while!!

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Thank you for reading this post! We're very excited to host these events for the fandom, and we hope you're excited too!!

#rowaelinmonth #rowanweek #rowan week #tog anniversary #12 days of rowaelin