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highqueenofelfhame · 5 years

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rules of engagement // intro.

“I hate him,” Celaena groaned to Lysandra, her best friend who also happened to sit at the desk directly behind hers. The ‘him’ in question was their boss, Rowan Whitethorn — a man that Celaena was directly beneath because she was his assistant. The sad thing was that he hadn’t done anything incriminating yet this morning aside ask Celaena to be in his office in five minutes before slamming his door shut.

“You don’t have to put up with —“ Lysandra tried to point out, as she did every day, only to receive a sharp look from the golden blonde next to her that had her cutting off the words. A vicious cycle. Celaena desperately wanted — needed — the experience. Lysandra knew that. It’s why she was here, why she was in Adarlan at all.

It had been two minutes since Rowan had asked to see Aelin, and IMs were popping up on her laptop that the dark-queen of the office, Maeve Valgoretti, was making her way toward Rowan’s office. Odd. Unusual. Maeve usually requested an audience — it wasn’t often that she went down to Rowan’s office on her own. It had to be something important then. Seconds later, her emo majesty was disappearing into Rowan’s office with Cairn, her right hand, following close behind.

“I wonder what that’s about,” Lys thought aloud, spinning back around in her chair and busying herself with the usual morning tasks. From where they sat, they were unable to see into Rowan’s office.

Celaena didn’t have to wait long to find out, because three minutes later at exactly 8:15 AM she rapped her knuckles twice on the heavy glass door and slipped inside, only for three sets of eyes to turn to him. Rowan hissed a loud what to her and she furrowed her brow.

“You said you wanted to see me and —“ but she tapered off as Maeve’s eyes shut briefly.

“We’re in the middle of something important so unless one of my incredibly vital clients is bleeding out somewhere because of gang violence or shot a police officer, I want you out of here.” The same time that she stopped talking, the demand a sharp slice through the air, Rowan’s features softened for a brief moment before he gestured for Aelin to step deeper into the room. She did as she was told, more than willing to face the wrath of Maeve than whatever mountain-sized paperwork that Rowan would throw at her if she didn’t do what he asked.

When she sidled up next to him he reached for her hand and she immediately jerked it away. Rowan, however, let out a low laugh and said, “It’s okay, love.”

Love? What was that bullshit about? It shocked her so much that she kept her hand in his, staring at him while he laced their fingers and kissed her knuckles. Maeve looked just as surprised as Celaena felt, as surprised as she was sure her own face reflected.

“Celaena and I are getting married,” Rowan said, tapping the ring she wore on her left middle finger, which was most definitely not any sort of engagement ring given to her by a man. “So it won’t be an issue. We’ll go take care of that in just a little while if you’ll give us just a moment.”

“Take care of what?” The tone of her voice was completely and utterly baffled with shock sending a sharp jolt into every word.

“We’ll talk in just a moment when Maeve and Cairn depart.” Celaena‘s eyes locked with Rowan’s. Her jaw was clenched so tightly she was expecting her teeth to start to smash into fine powder any moment now.

“Then I suppose that does...change things. Bring me the paperwork once it’s filed,” Maeve drawled, her gaze slipping from Rowan to Celaena, Celaena back to Rowan. The tension in the air was thick and not from wanting. Although Celaena did suppose she wanted something right about now. To absolutely murder her boss. Which is why when Maeve and Cairn had left the office, she immediately flared her nostrils at Rowan with fire dancing in the golden core of her eyes.

“What in the ever loving hell do you mean we’re getting married?” She hissed at him, spitting venom like she’d transformed into a Cobra. Perhaps she had. Perhaps her hood was flared in warning as she prepared to strike.

“I’m being deported otherwise, Celaena, if we can just get me a marriage visa —“

“You can’t just tell someone you’re going to marry me! There are — there are rules. You have to court me and ask my father for permission —“

“Don’t be so old fashioned. It won’t be a big deal. We’ll marry quietly and divorce in a year or so and it’ll be fine. You aren’t dating anyone right now, anyway, I know because you don’t have enough time with the amount of time you spend here. Your parents don’t even have to know, and —“

“I should go straight to HR and report you!” At that, Rowan sighed and rubbed his face, fingers eventually moving to rake through his silver hair. When his pine green eyes met hers again, they were desperate.

“What do you want? A raise?”

“I don’t need money,” she snorted. Truthfully, it was the next to last thing she needed, falling just above this stupid marriage. Something like surprise flashed over his harsh features — what twenty-something would say no to a pay raise? What twenty-something didn’t desperately need a pay raise?

“A promotion? A —“ He was going to keep going until she settled on what she wanted, so instead of him prattling off things, she did the one thing that would make him look like a complete and utter moron.

“I want you to come home to Terrasen with me for the week starting tomorrow. Let Fenrys handle everything with the clients and if you, at any point, get the courage to ask my father for my hand, then fine. And then you’ll get down on one knee and present a ring to me because I’m a person, Rowan Whitethorn, and I will be treated as such.”

“That’s what you want? That’s all you want?” His tone was incredulous, shocked even. The notion that those two things were all that she was requiring seemed to thoroughly surprise him enough that his eyebrows were nearly in his hairline, knit together ever so slightly. Celaena nodded her head a single time, knowing full well that this entire thing was a waste of her own time and a waste of his if this is what he needed to avoid being sent back to Doranelle.

“That’s what I want.” With another loud sigh and another painful drag of his hand through his hair, Rowan nodded. An agreement. “Great. You’re dealing with immigration on your own.” Part of her was surprised that she was being so brash with Rowan. Nobody talked to him that way, nobody gave him any sort of orders for him to follow, yet here she was barking demands at him like she were the one in charge. Things changed, though, when you needed something from a person, and Rowan was heavily relying on Celaena so much that his life as he knew it depended on her wholly.

Rowan Whitethorn was an asshole. And she had every intention of making him look and feel as stupid as he made his employees feel on a daily basis.

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