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mariaofdoranelle · 4 months

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Mistletinder

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Merry Christmas/Yulemas, @writtenonreceipts! I hope this fic finds you well. I was so happy when I got you in the draw because I admire you so much, and I hope you have as much fun reading your gift as I had writing it ❤️

@rowaelinscourt thank you for organizing the secret Santa!

Warnings: moderate alcohol intake

Words: 4,7k

“This is gonna bite you in the ass someday, you know?” Sellene reproached from behind the steering wheel. Her friend couldn’t see what Aelin was doing on her phone, but somehow she knew.

“Shh!” Aelin looked behind her to check on the girls, but they were still sound asleep. At the age of four, if they listened to any curse word, it’d be forever until they stopped repeating it over and over again. At least, from what she was told, the Whitethorn family was used to small children and their demands. It was the whole reason why she was spending Yulemas with them, after all.

Aelin and Maisie were on their own now, and when Sellene all but dragged them to her family’s farm because of all the kids and animals, it was hard to argue. After the year from hell they had, a nice Yulemas was the least she could do for Maisie.

“You’re avoiding the subject,” Sellene insisted.

“Yes. Because I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“But you sure seem to want to keep doing it, huh?”

When you’re broke after your divorce and your business isn’t thriving, ain’t it funny what you’ll do?

On one drunken night amidst her separation, Aelin downloaded Tinder and scheduled a date on the bookstore café she owned. But when she freaked out and canceled right after the guy—Archer—arrived, she could only watch from her mezzanine office, amazed, as he stuffed his face with baked goods and left with two books.

After that, luring people from Tinder into Fireheart Books & Cafe was just a small part of her marketing plan. And the most unethical one.

“It’s a lucrative strategy,” Aelin said, feeling defensive.

“That you don’t need anymore.” Sellene rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you just butcher the anthropology section to fit more tables?”

Yes. For the same reason Aelin added sidewalk dining tables. “Your point is?”

“Did you at least give someone a try while you’re at it?”

Once. Just one person that made her actually enjoy the execution of her plan, even extending it so she’d talk to him more before ghosting. Conversation flowed, and Aelin had already gone on some dates at that point after her separation, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think she’d find love on Tinder.

“That app is a lost cause, Sel.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t find some good hot dates.” Her friend wiggled her eyebrows. “I know I did.”

Aelin managed to muffle her laughter with one hand so the two sleeping beauties on the back wouldn’t wake up. She brushed her daughter’s chestnut hair away from her face, watching the way she leaned on her friend during their nap. Maisie and Bree were thick as thieves in preschool and, as single moms, Aelin and Sellene would frequently help each other out.

Sellene has a hot date? Auntie Ae and Maisie will happily have Bree for a sleepover.

Aelin is busy at the book shop? Auntie Sel and Bree can drop Maisie there when school is over.

Sellene was godsend this year, and listening to her rant about her love life was just one of the fun perks of being so close to her. If the few dates Aelin went to this year actually happened, it was because her friend insisted.

“So, how’s that thing with Ilias again?” Aelin said, desperate to change the subject.

A groan. “You will not believe what he texted me this morning…”

Aelin let her friend go on about her situationship, a little relieved that she wasn’t the focus of the conversation anymore.

Truth was, she was a little anxious about this Yulemas. Sellene guaranteed that her family was too big for Aelin to intrude in something intimate, and the Whitethorns were properly notified about her stay, but that nagging feeling that her and Maisie were crashing the party wouldn’t go.

After they got to the farm, it was a while before they reached the house.

When Sellene told her about all the family traditions and how homey it was, Aelin expected an old farmhouse of sorts. To be honest, she didn’t think much about how the house would look, but she definitely wasn’t expecting a classic-looking manor with an exterior made of white stone.

A blonde woman showed up on the porch before Sel parked the car, then she ran inside and came back, tugging a man by the arm. By that time, they were already leaving the car with their bags, but the older couple still insisted on helping them.

Rory and Owen, her friend’s aunt and uncle, as they introduced themselves. Aelin’s introduction was brief, since Sellene filled her family in on who she was beforehand, but they still made small talk. Though she wasn’t paying much attention, too caught up on the similarity between Sellene and Owen. Her friend joked about some strong traits running in her family, but this was uncanny.

“Genetics, huh?” Sellene said, a teasing grin on her face.

Aelin was staring, wasn’t she? Oops. “Yes, genetics.” She turned to Owen. “I can’t believe you’re not even her father!”

Rory laughed and urged them inside. “Come on, darling, there’s a lot of silver hair and green eyes for you to compare.” She smirked before she added, “And if you happen to like it, my son is single. Thirty-one, stable job, goes to the gym a lot—“

“Auntie,” Sellene reproached.

The matron frowned. “I’m not being very smooth, am I?”

Her husband gave her two gentle taps on the shoulder. “You’re never smooth at matchmaking, darling.”

Rory gave Aelin an apologetic smile before continuing, “We’re stuck with some housework right now, but if you can wait—“

“I’ll show her around,” Sellene said, waving her aunt off.

“Alright, then. Pick any empty room you’d like.” Rory turned to Aelin. “You and your little one are the most welcome, make yourselves at home,” she said with a beam before scurrying away to the kitchen.

And about Aelin’s little one: where the hell was she?

Sellene leaned closer to Aelin and murmured, “But you can totally flirt with my cousins if you’d like. There’s a whole bunch of them for you to pick.”

“I don’t think I’ll have time for that, but thanks.” Not that she wants to, but it’ll become a hard no if she’ll have to wrangle Maisie all the time.

“I saw them coming inside.” Sellene tugged Aelin. “Don’t worry, she’s safe here.”

“Your house is not.” At least not with her four-year-old on the loose.

The two women dropped their bags by the entrance and ran around looking for them, calling their names. Aelin couldn’t register much other than white walls and wooden furniture, her mind filled with what could Maisie possibly break in this small time frame, and how much it costs.

Aelin’s worry was peaking when she listened to her daughter’s voice coming from another porch, this one attached to the living room.

"Do you do your tattoos alone, or does your mom help you too?"

The man blinked, confused, until Maisie showed him the few Barbie bubblegum tattoos on her forearm. She gave it a pointed look, then to the many tattoos he had on his left arm, taking most of the limb.

Aelin decided it was best to make herself known, introduce yourself, and see if this stranger needed rescuing from her curious preschooler. She couldn’t see this man’s face from her point-of-view, but she had an inkling of who he could be because of his—shocker—silver hair.

“Maisie!” She called from afar, “I was looking for—“

The words died in her throat when she recognized the man before her. Aelin’s core felt ice-cold all of a sudden, despite the dangerous pounding of her heart. There was no way in hell this was happening, and she blamed Tinder for not requiring users to use their last name there.

“Aelin.” He made a point of looking at his bare wrist, as if checking the time. “I think you’re a bit late for our date.”

˜˜

Upstairs, in the safety of her bedroom, Sellene had the gall to cackle.

Aelin glared at her. “Could you not?”

Before ten minutes ago, her friend was absolutely clueless to the fact that Aelin and Rowan knew each other, just like she had no clue that Sellene and Rowan are cousins. But it saved her, since the woman walked into that porch and spared Aelin from doing any talking.

“Alright, lemme just…” Sellene turned away, as if Aelin couldn’t see her friend’s shoulders shaking from behind. Then she took a deep breath and turned back around. “Alright.” A twitch on the corner of her lips that was quickly concealed. “But you said you liked him?”

“That’s not the point!” Aelin said, pacing in the empty space between the bed and the wall.

Chatting with Rowan was nice, and she may have indulged in conversation with him more than she usually lets herself, but Aelin felt so drained after her divorce. She let herself be dragged to dates sometimes, but she didn’t have it in herself to fully face the dating scene again.

Sellene rolled her eyes and threw herself on the bed. “That’s the key point, actually. It’ll define our entire course of action.”

“Nope. Our course of action is whatever protects Maisie from this mess.”

Aelin was so afraid of fucking up Maisie’s Yulemas when she got here, she didn’t realize she’d potentially fucked up even before arriving. Her throat felt thick just to think of it.

Sellene squeezed her hand. “He’s not gonna cause a scandal or anything, Rowan’s not like that.”

“He’s not going to tell your incredibly welcoming family that I’m actually a cold-hearted milf that stood him up and ghosted?”

“Okay,” Sel trailed, grimacing. “He’s not like that, but he is a bit of a gossip, so…”

Aelin sat on the edge of the bed and groaned, her face resting in both hands. Whether he had a big mouth or not, she needed to fix this. Because she couldn’t put Maisie’s Yulemas in jeopardy, yes, but also because Rowan deserves an apology.

Truth is, Aelin never felt tempted to give a chance to the guys she chatted with, because everyone she met on Tinder could be classified as one of: a chronic manwhore, overall gross, or gross for a single but relevant reason, or a misogynist bigot. And sometimes she even liked to leave them stranded, especially when they fell into the latter category.

Usually, Aelin just acted flirty enough to let the guy think something other than coffee would happen, that way he’d run to their ‘date’ without wasting more of their time.

But there were exceptions, of course, and Rowan was one of them. He wasn’t exactly chatty, but she still found herself texting him back and forth late at night for almost two weeks. When he oh-so-gently requested to meet her in person after dropping some hints about it here and there to no avail, she knew she had to cut this short.

It was just business, or so she told herself when it was time to cancel the plans that were never bound to happen. Aelin didn’t have space in her life for much else.

But now the girls, Rowan and a few other Whitethorns were off to see the baby goats and some other kid-friendly farm animals, which gave Aelin a small time frame to plan her next move.

Sellene got up from her bed, nothing but determination on her face. “Here’s what we’re gonna do: we’ll wait downstairs. When they come back, I’ll keep an eye on Maisie while you scurry him away to apologize.”

This was the lamest plan Aelin has ever gotten into. “I expected better scheming from you.”

“No scheming this time,” her friend warned, “just tell him the truth.”

And that was what Aelin kept in mind, as she waited with Sel in the kitchen under the disguise of chatting with Rory.

The kids barreled into the room a while later, chatting about the farm animals they saw, petted, or even fed. Rowan lingered on the other side of the kitchen, carefully avoiding Aelin’s eyes while he rectified the little one’s exaggerated stories with things like actually, no goat charged at them, they just wail all the time.

Despite the high excitement, Maisie’s attention drifted when she noticed the batch of gingerbread men coming off the oven.

“My grandma makes gingerbread people too,” she said to Rory, then frowned. “Do you know my grandma?”

Aelin’s heart squeezed at the sight. She was hoping to keep Maisie’s mind off her father’s family these holidays.

“I’m afraid not, honey. Is she from Doranelle too?”

“No, she lives very, very, very far. I need to get on a plane to see her.”

“That’s very far indeed.” Rory chuckled. “What’s she doing this year?”

Maisie shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t have Yulemas with Daddy this year because he’s stuck in prison.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on her little girl’s outcast expression as Aelin’s face grew impossibly hot. Gods, her daughter sure had a way with words.

“Because he’s a prison psychologist,” Aelin amended, to everyone’s relief, by the way their shoulders collectively relaxed.

Chaol wasn’t seeing his daughter these holidays because he was too busy in the Southern Continent with his girlfriend—former mistress—but there was no way Aelin was telling her little girl that. Work was the go-to excuse to why he missed so many bi-monthly visitations, and it worked for Yulemas too.

One day, Maisie would understand that Aelin has been a single mom since long before her divorce. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to postpone said realization for as long as she could.

“Oh, how silly of me! I forgot to get rosemary.” Rory changed the subject when silence reigned, thank Mala. The time when Chaol was a touchy subject was long gone, but people still tiptoed around it with her.

The woman continued, “Aelin, darling, could you get me some, please?”

“Sure…” she trailed, looking around. “Where can I—“

“Rowan will show you the garden,” Rory quipped.

And Aelin thought that getting him alone for a moment would be tricky. Clearly, she underestimated his mother.

Rowan glared at the older woman, but she didn’t waver. Instead, the more that odd exchange lasted, the more Rory seemed to enjoy forcing her son to spend time with someone he clearly didn’t want around.

Fuck, Aelin needed to fix this immediately.

He gestured to the open back door in the kitchen, and led her to a kitchen garden close to the house.

Sunshine glanced off the leaves which vegetables, herbs and fruit grew, and Aelin wished she could enjoy its beauty more. The smell of fresh herbs and sound of the leaves shuddering were the only soothing things, given the conversation she had ahead.

She waited for him to make a start, to no avail. Perhaps he did, earlier today when she first saw him, right before Sellene walked in and they pretended that first exchange didn’t happen.

“I’m sorry.”

Rowan’s step faltered for a second. He gave her a curt nod, and continued his stroll towards the rosemary shrubs.

She continued, “I shouldn’t have stood you up, it was really shitty of me and I totally deserve it if you hate me right now.” A pause. “But I was hoping we could put this aside for Yulemas, you know? Being in the same house and all.”

“Alright,” he said while slowly nodding, and Aelin’s shoulders loosened up with relief for a moment, until he finally looked her in the eye and added, “I'll go easy on you if you tell me what happened.”

“I told you, I’ve been having a hard time dating after my—“

“Yeah, you told me that in your apology text, but I feel like there’s something missing.”

He got her there. It was true, but not the ugly truth.

“Remember the shop I asked you to meet me at?”

He nodded.

“I own it. And my Tinder account is strictly for… cash inflow.”

This time, he fully stopped. He studied Aelin with widened eyes, and after judging the seriousness in her expression, he laughed. It was loud and full, overpowering the gentle flutter of the leaves and birds’ wings around them.

He kneeled by the shrub, snapped a few branches with his fingers, and it was just then that Aelin realized they had already arrived at their destination.

“You’re not mad?”

Rowan shrugged, and she wanted to read his expression so bad, but he had his back to her, still working on his mother’s rosemary. “I guess should be mad. I’m definitely impressed. It’s a very clever move.”

Aelin didn’t know if she should thank him or not. “But are we cool?”

He chuckled, something more amicable in his eyes this time, when he turned around. “Yes, sure. It was just online dating. Do you know how often people get ghosted? I wasn’t gonna start a riot because of that.”

“‘Kay, thanks.” He was being such a nice sport, his forgiveness only worsened the guilt she felt. “And though you’re right about that, I’d be totally mad and petty if someone stood me up. Just saying.”

“I wasn’t mad that you stood me up—“

Aelin sent him a cut-the-bullshit look.

He sighed and continued, “Alright, I was upset. Not mad. What actually made me mad is that you ghosted me after that.”

She stopped mid-stride, her head tilted. This made absolutely no sense. Rowan broke eye contact to rearrange the branches inside the small bag, making his fingers busy for a small moment of awkward silence that lasted a lifetime in Aelin’s head.

“I liked you, Aelin. You didn’t have to do that for me to visit your coffee shop.”

Aelin didn’t want to think about why his words stung, but they did.

˜˜

Engaging in conversation at dinner would be a lot easier if Maisie was eating, not showing Bree magic tricks.

She placed a french fry on the table, between her and her friend. “Now close your eyes,” Maisie commanded. When her friend complied, she shoved the fry in her mouth and said, “Ta-da!”

Bree opened her eyes, and the loud gasp she let out after noticing the fry was gone gave Aelin a good chuckle.

“Do it again!” Sellene’s daughter said, clapping her hands.

“Maybe you could do it with the cucumber this time?” Aelin cut in.

Maisie turned to her mother with all seriousness a four-year-old can muster. “Mommy, it’s Friday. We only eat fries.”

Being the little entertainer she is, the people near Maisie laughed, not for the first time this dinner. Including Rowan, who sat next to Sellene, almost in front of her. It was weird, hearing his laughter instead of reading a “haha”. A good weird. Still weird. For Mala’s sake, she needs to sort her feelings out.

“You are such a silly goose,” her friend said, fondness filling her eyes.

“No, Auntie Sel, you are a silly goose. I’m a silly gosling.” The little girl took her time pronouncing each syllable of the last word, careful to get it right.

Aelin’s mouth was ajar as she stared at her. “Where did you learn that?”

“Wowan.” Maisie said, beaming. “We’re bestest friends now because he’s an animal doctor, and he promised to show me all his animal friends so I can be friends with them too.”

“Is that so?” Aelin plastered on a smile, hoping it wasn’t too strained. It didn’t go unnoticed that he was nice enough to Maisie for her to consider him her new ‘bestest friend’, even before Aelin apologized. Fuck, she needed to unpack this later.

When she dared a glance at Rowan, he looked a little stiff, but still gave her a quick, close-lipped smile. “She likes the baby goats.”

Aelin would know. Maisie talked about them all day.

“Wowan, I’ll do a magic trick.”

He turned his full attention towards Maisie.

She continued, “Did you see me do it before?”

“Yes.”

“Try to forget.”

“I can’t do it, Maisie, I saw you do that trick too many times.” He leaned back on his chair, a lazy smirk on. “But I haven’t seen you make the cucumber disappear.”

She jolted on her seat, put a cucumber slice on the table, pointed a finger at Rowan and yelled, “Close your eyes!”

When he complied, Maisie ate that cucumber with a ferocity Aelin had never seen before.

“Dear Mala,” Rowan said when he opened his eyes, feigning shock. “Do it again.”

And that’s how he convinced her to eat every single vegetable on her plate. Fuck, he sure knows how to woo a single mom.

Not woo, Aelin chastised herself. Rowan said he liked her. In the past tense. Which should be a relief, but this wasn’t how she felt as she watched him smile at her daughter and make her have fun while eating healthy.

Rowan stole a glance at her, but Aelin had her eyes on him already. He swallowed, likely unsure of what to do after being caught staring while she was already staring.

Thank you, she mouthed so Maisie wouldn’t hear. To her surprise, his eyes softened, and he gave her a small smile.

Relief finally washed over her, when Aelin realized that the awkwardness in his expression had vanished.

˜˜

As predicted, Maisie was so hyper Aelin didn’t manage to properly enjoy the farm herself. But she didn’t mind it, since her daughter was the whole purpose of this trip. Besides, sometimes watching the kids play could be better than TV.

“I wanted to go out to eat with you, not you and your baby!” Maisie’s arms flailed around as she tried to explain her frustration.

Bree clutched her doll to her chest, a wounded look on her face. “But I can’t leave my baby alone!”

Rowan, who was just passing by the living room, froze when he registered what was going on. He turned to Aelin, confusion written all over his face, and discreetly sat by her side on the couch.

“Everything alright?”

Aelin pointed at the tea party toy set near the girls. “They’re at a pretend restaurant, eating pretend food and talking about their pretend jobs.” A pause so she wouldn’t start laughing here and there. “Maisie was expecting a girls’ night, but Bree brought her baby with her.”

“Oh, I see.” Aelin’s gaze swept over him for a minute, and it was unfair how good his pine-green eyes looked when they were filled with amusement like this. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m getting popcorn. You?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, “I think this is a very complex issue. We can’t read it under a Manichaean view.”

Aelin chuckled, and they fell into comfortable silence while watching the girls. Rowan’s pine scent hit her senses, but it was the chilly wind coming from the window that made her shiver.

“You cold?”

She shrugged. “Not that much.”

Rowan stood up. “I’ll warm us up.”

“You’re getting a blanket?”

“Better,” Rowan said, a troublesome glint in his eyes. “Wine.”

Not as effective as a blanket, but definitely more fun.

“Merlot?” He suggested with his head tilted.

Unbelievable. Aelin briefly mentioned her favorite type of wine to this man over text in a late night conversation, and he still remembered it weeks later.

Rowan seemed to misread her silence, his expression becoming guarded. “But I can share the bottle with Enda if you don’t feel like it.”

Aelin’s gaze quickly turned to her daughter before she focused back on him. “Can it wait until after Maisie’s bedtime?”

Rowan took a step back with a grin on, and his eyes wouldn’t leave Aelin. “I’ll get the snacks ready.”

After wrangling Maisie around the house a little more and putting her to bed, Aelin found herself in the same living room as before. However, this time, the tea party set on the table was replaced by a small charcuterie board and two glasses of red wine.

They talked about their lives for hours. Now it was nearing midnight, and none of them seemed to grow tired of each other’s companies. It was just easy like that with him, and she knew it. Too easy, was what Aelin told herself in her office as she let him down. Too easy to be true, and not the delusion of a lonely twenty-nine-year-old divorcée.

Aelin had so many reasons why she couldn’t give Rowan a real chance, but she couldn’t remember a single one of them right now. Actually, she could remember, they just felt… small.

Too bad she was too late.

“And you never thought to move back here? Being a vet and all?”

Rowan sipped his wine. “I’ve lived in the city since I was a teenager, my whole life’s there. But I visit a lot.”

“And your cousins?”

“Not as much, but Yulemas is always here.” He cocked his head, his expression shifting as he grinned at her. “Though the company is usually much less good-looking.”

Aelin blinked. She stared at the glass of wine. It was her second, and Aelin knew her limits. She wasn’t even tipsy. It couldn’t be.

“Rowan Whitethorn… are you flirting with me?”

“Yes, I’ve been trying for a while.” A pause. “Is it working?”

Wow. She looked around, mind racing and empty at the same time. A turned-off TV. Potted plants with fairy lights on. A mistletoe. Gifts under a tree.

Rowan was flirting with her.

Rowan, Maisie’s new “bestest friend”. Kind, attentive Rowan who remembered her favorite wine and looked as delicious as the Focaccia bread he stole from the kitchen for her.

Rowan, who seemed to give her a second chance even when she didn’t deserve it.

“It’s working, yeah.”

He didn’t dare say a word after her response, and neither did she. He leaned forward, barely blinking as he tried to meet her eye.

Aelin needed to say something. She wanted to say something else, but it was hard to do it while she felt her old resolutions shatter like a wall of glass.

Going on shitty date after shitty date so she could find someone reasonably good, until something happened and she had to go back to the stream of shitty dates? No, meeting new people was a hard no for now.

But it was different when she had already met someone, right? Aelin wasn’t ready to give dating a chance, but she was more than willing to give Rowan a chance.

She got up and tugged Rowan’s hand.

“What?”

Aelin tugged on it again, so he got up from the couch too. Wordlessly, she led him to a spot right under the beam that divided the living room and the hallway.

She pointed at the mistletoe above them. “Oh, look.”

“Wow.”

“I definitely didn’t see that and drag you here.”

“And my mother definitely didn’t fill the house with mistletoes tonight because she’s in love with you and Maisie.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” she lied.

“So surprising.”

“Shocking.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Absolu—”

Rowan pulled their lips together, cupping her face with both hands while she wrapped her arms around him. Their lips brushed together, and it was almost unfair how soft he felt. He gently nipped hers so Aelin would open up to him, and the kiss was sweet and hungry at the same time. His hands traveled down her neck and arms, making her shiver, until he reached her waist and tugged her closer.

Well, fuck. If Aelin didn’t have any doubts about giving this a chance anymore, she didn’t know what to call it now. A negative amount of doubts? Anyway, her mind was jello. Aelin couldn’t know where this was going, but she knew she’d let it happen now. No more holding back.

Rowan broke the kiss and put their foreheads together, breathlessly breathing her in with closed eyes.

“If I ask you out on another date, will you show up this time?”

“Yes,” Aelin said, right before her parted lips morphed into a teasing smirk. “And I might even delete Tinder, depending on how large your coffee order is.”

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theladyofdeath · 1 year

Text

Back to Orynth {Rowan x Aelin}

Written with @snelbz

Rowaelin. Canon. The castle in Orynth. NSFW.

Based on prompt: Rowaelin mutual masturbation fic, but then they just can’t keep their hands off each other and they fuck. But in canon. Not AU. by anonymous.

Word Count: 4,166

A/N: We've decided to take a little bit of time and post more OS! We have a very long list that we're set on tackling, and although we do a lot of AUs, I like that we started with one in canon. We hope you enjoy!

WARNING: NSFW. 18+ ONLY. The following story contains descriptions of sex. No one under 18 should continue past the link.

Aelin stood on the balcony outside of her bedchamber and watched as snowflakes drifted toward the ground. It had been a fairly mild winter for Orynth, but she still couldn’t imagine that flying through the snowy winter was all that pleasant, no matter how much snow fell. Yet, she kept her eye on the horizon, expecting to see a familiar white-tailed hawk soaring through the falling flakes at any given moment.

Aelin was growing impatient. He'd better hurry.

It had been nearly two months since she’d last seen her Mate, her husband. There had been suspicious activity along the northern border and Rowan had led the charge in the investigation, then went on to make sure that the entirety of Terrasen’s border was secured.

Which was all fine and good, but it did mean that Aelin’s bed was cold and her heart was only half present.

The grandfather clock in her sitting room chimed six, and knowing that the sun would soon be setting, Aelin was growing impatient. She wondered if she screamed, as loudly as she possibly could, if that would make him come faster. Surely he would hear her, he’d have to be close enough, and nothing worried Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius more than his wife in danger.

Even if he knew perfectly well that she could take care of herself.

Territorial, over-protective fae bastard.

Just as she was about to give up and go back inside, she could see him, the tiniest hint of his animal form in the distance.

He flew directly towards her, without having to even think about it. It was not his first homecoming, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. As he grew nearer, there was a flash of light, then he was landing on the stone ledge with a thump. His boots were filthy and he had a new scratch on his cheek that hadn’t fully healed, which Aelin knew meant that the original gash must have been pretty deep.

Yet, the moment he changed, his eyes were soft as he smiled at Aelin. “Nothing better to do than wait for me to arrive?”

“Well, I have a kingdom to run, but your impending arrival was distracting me,” she said, watching him fondly as he approached.

“Glad to know I’m more important than your meetings,” he crooned, pausing before her. “I do hope you gave Lord Darrow the respect he deserves.”

“Absolutely,” she replied, eyes sparkling. “After he interrupted me for the third time, I called the meeting and spent the rest of the day in our private library.”

Save for the threat at the border, things had been prosperous since Aelin’s rule began. Trade was booming, the rebuild of the land was tedious, but created jobs the territory needed. The meeting on foreign affairs was more for pomp and circumstance than it was for a specific need.

“Our private library, huh?” He cupped her face in his hands and leaned down, finally bringing his lips to hers. The kiss was brief, but full of promise for later. “Surely you weren’t reading the texts on ancient battle strategies like I’ve suggested?”

Aelin hummed as she slid her palms up his chest and around his neck. “I assure you the strategies that I indulged in were far more…useful than any ancient battle strategy.”

Rowan chuckled as he shook his head. “If any member of our court were to wander into our library and stumble upon a book of yours, they would be appalled at such filth.”

“And that is why I keep all the good ones in our private library.” She kissed him again, and he groaned quietly against her mouth. “You smell atrocious.”

Rowan let go of his wife and stepped inside. “It’s been weeks since I’ve had a proper bath, I’m not sure what you were expecting.”

“I was expecting you to at least take some soap with you in your pack. You’re a king, for the gods’ sake,” Aelin teased, following him into their sitting room and closing the double doors that led out onto the balcony.

Rowan snorted as he took off his pack and tossed it on the couch, then began unhooking his weapons, one by one. “Who do I have to thank for putting up with your sarcastic ass while I’m away?”

“Oh, the list is long,” Aelin crooned, watching the show he was now putting on. Once his weapons were gone, he began unbuttoning his dusty jacket. “If you’re going to thank them all, it’s going to be all you’re doing this week.”

Rowan shook his head, but she could see the slight twist of his lips as he shrugged off his jacket, adding it to the pile. “Maybe I’ll thank them by taking you off their hands for a few days.”

“Ah, I am a burden,” Aelin said, meandering over to Rowan and fisting her hands into the fabric of his thin tunic. “Are you sure you want to take on that task?”

“I think I’ll manage,” he muttered, before kissing her once more. Aelin reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, which was growing longer once again. She loved it.

“Take a bath,” she whispered, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his neck. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

“Don’t we have people for that?”

“I find doing things for myself keeps me humble.”

Rowan huffed a laugh before disappearing into the washroom.

As the water ran, Aelin hurried down to the kitchens, smiling politely and greeting everyone she passed. After collecting a platter of meats, cheeses, bread, and berries, Aelin was finding her way back to her rooms. The water was still sloshing around from the washroom, so Aelin placed the platter on their table before finding her way back into her bedchamber and her wardrobe. After slipping off her gown, she pulled on a thin, golden nightgown and a knee length robe, leaving it open. She pulled the pins out of her hair, knowing that her duties for the day were complete and she would not be leaving this room any more tonight.

Collecting the book she’d been reading earlier, Aelin curled up on the couch in the sitting room, filling a glass with wine from a bottle brought straight from the personal stores of the King of Adarlan. She sipped the wine with an appreciative hum before opening her book and picking up where she’d left off.

The love interests had finally just given into their attraction for each other, desecrating every surface in the mountain side cabin in the best way. The kitchen table, the wall, the bath, the bed, Aelin couldn’t get enough as she turned page after page—

The next thing she knew, she heard the door to their bathroom opening wide and she glanced up to where her husband stood, taking up most of the doorway with his broad frame. He wore a pair of loose linen pants and…that was it. No shirt and from how low the pants hung on his hips, from what she could tell, no undershorts either.

His eyes took in where she sat on the couch, on the glass of wine on the side table and book in her hands and he smirked as he headed for the platter of food laid out on the table.

As he passed in front of the couch she sat on, Rowan froze, nostrils flaring delicately as he scented the air. Raising her eyebrows, Aelin cradled the book to her chest. “Yes?”

“What exactly are you reading?” He asked, continuing to the table the food was laid out on and leaning against it. He plucked a bunch of grapes up before picking them off one by one and popping them into his mouth.

“Nothing of your concern.” Aelin let the book fall back open in front of her, her eyes scanning the page. Rowan watched her for a moment, slowly eating his grapes, before grabbing a slice of bread and walking toward the couch. He plopped down next to her and read over her shoulder with a curse. “I repeat my earlier sentiment. Your court would be appalled if they knew of your reading material.”

“My court should admire how in touch and confident I am with the idea of romance,” Aelin crooned, nudging her husband in the chest with her shoulder.

Rowan snorted as he bit off a piece of bread. “This is not romance. This is animalistic fucking.”

A satisfied sensation flooded Aelin’s body as she looked up and met his gaze. “I’ve had to have some sort of companion in your absence.”

His green eyes were bright as he shoved the rest of the bread into his mouth and swallowed. “Surely this doesn’t compare.”

“No?” Aelin asked, teasingly, as Rowan dropped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “I don’t know. Me and my books have had some remarkable nights since you've been away.”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed, and although humored, they darkened slightly. “So you’ve been well taken care of, then?”

“Don’t you admire how I can take care of myself?” Aelin asked, setting her book on the table beside the couch before giving her Mate her full attention.

“Always have,” he confirmed, brushing his knuckles down her cheek. “Although I feel it defeats my purpose.”

She loved it when he teased her, when he was playful. To the rest of the world, he was a nightmare come to life, a warrior with one intent, an ancient, powerful male who had the hands of death and the heart of a soldier. Aelin knew better. He was all of that, of course, but he was also a male who sat on the couch with her and flirted, who teased her and made her laugh.

Who made her toes curl and her most delicate parts throb uncontrollably.

“Is that all you’re good for?” Aelin asked, shifting on the couch to straddle his lap. Rowan’s arms went around her waist, the most handsomely seductive little smile twisting his lips. “Pleasure?”

“As the husband of a queen?” he asked, one brow raised. “Yes. Yes, I’m fairly sure my only duty is to bring undeniable pleasure to Her Majesty.”

“Hmm.” Aelin pursed her lips. “That’s quite the claim. And if I can pleasure myself just as well as you can?”

A low growl came out of Rowan. Even in their playful state, she could sense his jealousy brewing. “I’ll have to be the judge of that.”

Aelin’s heart began beating just a little bit faster, and she hadn’t even realized that her hips had begun to move, slowly rolling over his, until she asked, “Oh?”

As Rowan nodded, his lips brushed her neck. “Show me how you’ve pleasured yourself in my absence, my Queen.”

Aelin’s eyes rolled back and she bit her lip, fighting the urge to moan. Beneath her, she knew exactly where Rowan’s mind was at. Between the hard thickness she rocked against and his scent, excitement and need bloomed in her core.

“I don’t think you can handle such a sight,” Aelin said, her grin wild and devious. “A month and a half of travel has surely left you needy. Handsy. Possessive.”

“I think you forget how patient I am,” he said, quietly, fingers teasing the hem of her nightgown.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “You’re not patient. You just like to pretend you are.”

Rowan took her chin between his fingers and made her meet his gaze. “Try me.”

There was something about his tone that filled her body with fire and chaos. His eyes were bright, crazed, full of lust and longing. Aelin was sure that hers mirrored his. Every night that she had spent alone in his absence was full of wishing he was there beside her, holding her, loving her until her knees shook and every thought from her mind had evaporated. Now that he was here, all she wanted was to have him inside of her, but she would play his game.

She would give him a show until he was begging.

Still straddling his lap, Aelin shook off her robe and took the hem of her silk nightgown, slowly pulling it over her head until it was sitting behind her on the carpet. Rowan’s hands found her waist but she shook her head, smirking as she pushed them away, back down to the couch cushions. “No touching.”

His eyes blazed as they swept from hers, to her bare breasts, then back up again. Although his breathing had increased, he didn’t protest. Instead, his cock twitched beneath her as he gripped the couch cushions on both sides of his thighs.

Aelin took her time pulling her hair back until it was held snugly by a ribbon, and Rowan was practically growling by the time she slid her hands down her abdomen, to the band of her undergarment.

“Is that patience of yours thinning?” she teased.

“No,” he said, but the word was clipped, his jaw hard as his eyes trailed down her body and rested on her fingers, where they began to slide down the thin fabric of her panties. A slow, heavy breath left Rowan and his eyes darkened as the fabric swept down her thighs and every inch of her was bared before him.

He didn’t even try to hide his lingering gaze. A gaze that Aelin felt powerful under. As Aelin ran a finger through her slick folds, Rowan cursed, low and filthy. His fingers flexed beside him, but his hands did not move. He obeyed the command of his Queen, even as Aelin moaned into the quiet space.

Even the thought of her husband had left her wet and wanting. She could slide down on him to the hilt, effortlessly, but she wouldn’t. No— she wanted to see how long this game would go, how far she could tease him without him pouncing.

How long he could go without completely losing his shit.

She wanted him completely unleashed.

Their joinings after time apart were already nearly cataclysmic, neither of them leaving their bed chamber for a day or two. It reminded Aelin of the true mating frenzy they’d been robbed of when Maeve stole her off that beach. As if the time they spent apart built up until it blew, until it wasn’t safe for anyone but the other to be around them.

That suited her just fine.

Dipping her finger into the well of her center, Aelin gasped softly, watching Rowan as he watched her. His nostrils flared and she knew he was scenting her, dying to bury himself in her arousal. With her other hand, she dragged her fingers up her toned stomach to her breast, cupping one. Her fingers toyed with her nipple, rolling it and teasing it until the sensitive bud was tight and peaked.

Rowan’s tongue darted out as he wet his lips, the only sign that he was struggling. His features were still set in stone, as if he were unfazed by her ministrations, but those eyes were locked on her.

Aelin removed her hand from her sex, fingers still glistening and reached up to touch Rowan’s chest.

Faster than she could blink, his own hand had captured her wrist. Her fingers were inches from his skin.

“What is it?” Her voice was husky, yet dripping with innocence, as if she didn’t know what she was doing to him.

Rowan sounded like he was in pain. Only a few moments and she’d already worked him up. “You said no touching.”

She clucked her tongue, leaning in so her chest pressed into his. It pinned their hands between them. “I said you couldn’t touch me.”

“Then you can’t touch me.”

And before she knew what was happening, Aelin found her self on one end of the couch, her back to the plush, rolled arm, while Rowan sat on the other end.

Much too far for her liking.

He didn’t move. His eyes never left her. They trailed after her fingers as she settled against the couch cushions, her legs stretching out, her toes nudging Rowan’s thigh. His breathing was shallow as his eyes locked on the hand that palmed her breast.

His hands didn’t stay still, though. Instead, Rowan untied his linen pants before slipping them down his thighs, his hardened length springing free. Aelin’s bottom lip was pulled between her teeth to keep from moaning at the sight of him, completely ready for her. She throbbed between her thighs and every thought from her mind vanished as Rowan fisted his cock and stroked.

Aelin could practically feel him thrusting into her as the image flooded her mind. This time, she let a moan free as she began circling the throbbing ache of her clit that was begging for relief.

Rowan’s rhythm matched hers, and for a moment, nothing could be heard in the room except for their heavy, disoriented breaths.

“Your books don’t seem to be of much use now,” he teased her, not bothering to look at the object behind her she claimed gave her so much pleasure.

Smirking, Aelin spread her legs wider, baring herself further to him. There wasn’t an inch of her body he hadn’t seen, hadn’t tasted, and she could see the raw hunger in his eyes. “They’re only necessary when I lack the imagination needed to—”

Her words fell off with a soft moan as she circled her clit, watching as Rowan worked himself. The muscles of his abdomen were straining and his hips would buck off the cushions every so often. Her mouth watered as he teased his cock, stroking the head slowly as beads of wetness appeared. Aelin wanted to lick him clean, to taste the unadulterated essence of her Mate after such a long time apart, but this game between them was first and foremost in her mind. What had started as a way to tease him had backfired in the most glorious way, and as Aelin watched her husband pump his cock in time to the plunge of her fingers into her core, she knew there was no way she would break first.

She breathed his name as that familiar sensation built in her core and Rowan’s jaw locked as he watched her body writhe beneath the power of her own fingers. Suddenly, Rowan’s hand worked himself faster, and a curse of his own left his mouth while Aelin cursed.

“Is this what you do in my absence?” Rowan hissed, his tone half teasing, half undone. His shoulders tensed as his wife cursed again, a string of profanity falling from her lips.

“Jealous?” she asked, but the word was nothing more than a whisper. She could hardly get it out as her hips rolled into her hands.

“How can I be jealous?” Rowan asked, his tone only pushing her further towards her release. “I know what’s going on inside that pretty little mind of yours.”

Aelin’s fingers slowed to a tantalizing speed. “And what is it that I’m thinking?”

Rowan grinned, and the sight had a whimper sounding from Aelin’s closed lips. “You’re thinking how good it’s going to feel when I finally bury myself deep inside of you.”

Aelin scoffed, although it was clear that it was nothing more than an act. “I thought I made it clear…I get by perfectly well in your absence. All by myself.”

Rowan’s hand slowed, until his hand wrapped around his cock but it did not move. “Your soul is mine. You are never alone.”

There was certainly some romantic notion in that statement, but it was mostly an animalistic declaration. No, as her Mate, their souls were connected. There was never a second that Aelin pleasured herself that she was not thinking about Rowan, even when he was thousands of miles away.

That thought alone had Aelin breathing, “Touch me.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth that Rowan grabbed her across the couch, dragging her body over his, and crashed his lips against hers. One of his hands was in her hair, the other on her ass and Aelin adjusted herself until she felt him pressing against her center, thick and hard and ready.

Gods, she needed him and she didn’t want to pretend she didn’t, no matter what game they were playing. He was not weaker for needing her, not as he’d once believed, and she wasn’t either. As he ravaged her with his kiss, Aelin rose up on her knees, lining him up with her entrance and sank down in one stroke that had both of them gasping.

Rowan’s mouth found her neck as she rode him, kisses alternating from long, languid sweeps of his tongue that made her squirm, to biting nips of the sweetest pain that had her quivering around him. His lips continued down her neck and shoulders, over her chest, until he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently.

Throwing her head back, Aelin moaned, writhing atop him, threading her fingers through his hair.

Rowan’s fingers kneaded her ass as he sucked and praised. He thrusted up as she rocked and bounced, and they did not even try to hide the noises that were shamelessly filling the space between them, around them. Aelin hoped the entire castle could hear, hoped that they all knew her Mate was home and her soul was complete yet again.

Rowan’s lips found hers, hungrily, his tongue diving into her open mouth. Their bodies were pressed up firmly against one another’s but it still wasn’t close enough. It would never be close enough. Aelin would always long to be closer, even if they were as close as two people could be. She whispered his name and came crashing down upon him yet again, drawing a deep moan from the back of Rowan’s throat. His head fell back and he cursed before throwing her back against the couch and claiming her with a primal relentlessness that had Aelin seeing stars.

She loved him like this.

Completely unhinged.

Lost in all she had to offer, unable to control his needs and desires.

All of it, only for her.

The room filled with Aelin’s gasps and screams and cries of his name as Rowan fell into her again and again, urgently and meticulously. With one hand gripping her thigh, the other fell in that little space between them and his thumb rolled her clit until she was falling into oblivion, drowning in her sweet release. Her knees shook and her chest heaved as she swore, her nails digging into his skin.

Rowan’s eyes were bright as she clenched and spilled out around him.

It was only a few more frantic thrusts before he was following her over the edge, groaning her name as he came.

His head fell into the crook of her neck, both of them breathing heavily as they came back down. Aelin was the first to move, dragging her nails up and down his back in slow, languid strokes.

A quiet groan rumbled in his chest and she laughed softly as her fingers found her way into his hair.

“Your hair will need a trim before we hold any official court business,” she mused with a smirk as he worked to settle his breathing.

“Your court can take me as I am.” His response was muffled by her skin, but she could hear the exhaustion in his words.

She hummed as she finger combed through the tangles. “I guess you're right. I am queen, after all. What I say goes.”

Rowan snorted, knowing she’d never use her power for something so vain, but didn’t reply.

“We should clean up,” she said, glancing down. His body still completely covered hers, right down to where he was still buried inside her, their mixed releases making a mess on the couch.

“We can clean up tomorrow.” He still hadn’t raised his head, his warm breath on her skin. “Sleep now.”

“We have a bedchamber for that, you know,” she teased and he finally pulled back to look at her.

She had only seen her mate look so exhausted a few times, so completely and utterly drained that she knew the moment his head hit the pillow, he’d be asleep, so she leaned up, pressing her lips to his. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he echoed, wrapping his arms around her tighter. “Every day and every night.”

Without warning, he stood, carrying her into the washroom, making quick work of cleaning them both off before heading for their bed.

Aelin clung to him, refusing to let go even for a second. She had to soak up every minute before he was called away again to fulfill yet another duty in honor of the beautiful country that they had brought back from the ashes.

They never redressed before snuggling closely together beneath the heap of blankets on their bed, dwelling in the heat and comfort of one another’s bare body.

They remained in that bed together all night, intertwined and connected, and stayed there until the following night came.

#rowaelin #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #sjm fanfiction #snacmc collab #oneshot #tog #tog fanfic #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #canon #fanfics #snacmc answers prompts

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shyvioletcat · 1 year

Text

AELIN WEEK: DAY TWO

~ Love Language ~

A/N: We all know that at least one of Aelin’s love languages is physical touch so this DEFINITELY counts. Okay, so this is a another part of I Wish You Would which was meant to be a oneshot but now it’s not. It’s not as good as the first, I will admit, but I think it passes.

CW: Smut 18+, a couple of swears.

~~~~~

Rowan was steadily making his way through his third round of edits on his latest book. It was the fifth instalment for his current series and his deadline for submission was starting to get uncomfortably close. He’d been distracted or maybe it could be said one singular distraction instead, not at all an unpleasant one. Aelin was the best kind of distraction he could ever ask for.

Since their… unexpected and explosive tryst at the pop culture convention they’d found more than enough excuses to be together. Some might call it strange how easily they slotted into each other’s lives. All that animosity turned into something just as burning and passionate, but with far better benefits. To Rowan it felt as natural as breathing to be with Aelin like this. He thought the feelings he’d been harbouring were one sided and that Aelin had truly hated him. When it came to light that all her petty quips and barbed words had come from the denial of her own feelings, that had been the best day of Rowan’s life. Since then they had barely spent any time apart, taking the time to explore many aspects of their new relationship. Some aspects they explored more often and thoroughly than others, frequently in his bed or hers. He wouldn’t deny that their chemistry was out of this world.

With eyes fixed on the computer screen he startled as Aelin burst into his study, dressed in one of his hoodies and not much else from what he could tell. That golden hair of her’s was loose, but still messy, like she’d been running her hands through it. What caught Rowan’s eye was the open book she had pressed to her chest. It was one of his.

“It’s me,” she said a bit breathlessly like she’d run from whatever reading nook she’d emerged from. About a week ago she’d turned in her very final draft of her latest book, she currently had all the time in the world to do as she wished. She’d chosen to binge read his books. “It’s me.”

When she repeated those two words and Rowan still had no idea what she was talking about he laughed softly. “What is?”

Aelin rushed forward, holding out the book so it flopped under the weight of all those pages. “This,” she pointed to the black letters on the cream coloured pages. “In here, this character is me.”

He might have been affronted by the physical disrespect being inflicted on his book if he hadn’t just been drastically called out. Rowan turned his office chair with a deliberate slowness, like he was trying to buy himself some time. An unasked for favour from his unconscious mind. “Huh?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Mr Three Time Orynth Bestseller Author Whitethorn,” Aelin was back to hugging the book against her chest. “I’m vain enough to recognise my own imitation.”

Rowan tried his best just to shrug it off. “Maybe your vanity is seeing something that’s not there.”

Turquoise eyes narrowed at him, but rather than arguing the point she started leafing through the pages of his book. And then she cleared her throat.

“She stood there, blue eyes shining with ire as the bright light of the twin suns that caught the golden highlights in her hair. This woman was ready to fight and wouldn’t back down.” Aelin’s eyes left the page and they fixed on him. “Should I keep going or should I dive into the description of her stunning body?”

“You don’t even have blue eyes,” Rowan defended. “And every second female protagonist has blonde hair. More than that even.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, walking forward and pointing the book at him instead of an accusing finger. “My eyes are a shade of blue, you can’t fool me.”

“Fool you into what exactly?” Rowan said, tilting his head up to look at her.

“This is me.” Aelin all but slammed the book onto his desk.

That move had her leaning forward a little, making the hoodie gape at her thighs. Rowan couldn’t resist, his hand reached out, fingers splaying across her soft skin. The touch weakened some of Aelin’s swaggering and she stepped a tiny bit closer so that his hand could slip just a fraction higher.

“You can prove nothing,” Rowan insisted. “And don’t act like you haven’t done the exact same thing.”

The smallest hint of colour bloomed on her cheeks and she crossed her arms defensively. “No, I have not.”

Rowan grinned, his hand sliding down to the sensitive skin behind her knee. It made her squirm. Or maybe that was because he’d turned the tables on her.

“You don’t think I’ve noticed your penchant for silver haired male love interests popping up in your books.” Rowan pulled on her knee, making Aelin stumble forward but he steadied her with the other hand landing on her hip.

“I’ll have you know,” Aelin’s mouth twisted as she tried to hide her smile, “that it is a very popular hair colour for male characters in fantasy.”

Rowan’s voice was full of humoured incredulousness. “Is it?”

Aelin was close enough now that he could rest his chin on her stomach, to look up at her face that was continuing to flush.

“Yes.” She untucked one hand and started counting. “We’ve got Geralt, Thranduil, Legolas…” then her face brightened with a new thought. “One of your kick-ass women is named Ayla, how thinly veiled is that comparison?”

“And there’s the guy you straight up named after a tree with green eyes. But you did change the eye colour there, though,” Rowan added.

“But my point is,” Aelin said, choosing to ignore him now that she was thoroughly ratted out. “You did it too.”

Rowan smirked up at her, pulling on her hip so she swayed. “I didn’t deny it.”

“You… no you just evaded.” Aelin poked him in the chest to prove her point.

Rowan felt his expression turn smug, catching that hand before she could poke him again. “Just think, if you had read my books to begin with you could have figured out my crush a long time ago. You could have saved yourself a lot of frustration and all that extra brain power that went into that teasing of yours.”

“But that would have been a lot less fun,” Aelin’s voice turned sultry and she stepped closer on her own, her free hand reaching for his neck. “Okay, but consider. Would our first time been *that good without all that tension.”

She drew out the last three words.

Rowan nodded, kissing the fingers of the hand he still held. “You have a point. I did enjoy hearing how much you wanted it.”

He heard Aelin’s breath hitch and her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.

“I never would have gotten that out of you in any other scenario,” Rowan said confidently, squeezing her hip for emphasis. “You’re so godsdamned stubborn and I love it.”

That had Aelin grinning. She stepped out of his grasp and she waltzed over to one of his floor to ceiling bookcases running her fingers along the spines. “So, we both did it.”

“It would seem so,” Rowan said, swivelling in his chair to follow her movements.

“Also seems like we’ve been falling for each other longer than we care to admit,” Aelin mused. “It’s got me thinking.”

Rowan leaned back as far as his office chair would allow him. “About?”

Aelin sent him a sly smile before she turned around completely and gave him the opportunity to admire her long legs. He was so distracted he didn’t notice she had a book in her hands until she started reading. ““Please,” she breathed, fingers digging into his lower back for emphasis. His low groan was his only answer as he hoisted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him carry her not to the bed, but to the wall, and the sensation of the cool wood against her back compared to the heat and hardness of him pushing into her front.”

When she was done, Aelin just looked at him for a long moment. Then she very deliberately put the book back on the shelf, exactly where she’d got it from.

“So we’ve established that Celaena is me,” something mischievous glinted in Aelin’s eye as she referred to the character from the book she’d just read from, the prequel of the one she’d rushed in with in the first place. “Does that mean this is a little fantasy of yours? For me?”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to blush. “Um… maybe?”

Aelin laughed in triumph. “That’s a yes!”

Her laughter and his embarrassment had him out of his chair and closing the distance between them. He crowded her against the shelving and the laughing turned into giggles. That sound utterly undid him and he was powerless to stop the way his body was drawn to her. Aelin was looking up at him, her eyes wide and expectant—just waiting for him to just do something.

“You eased your tension with your teasing and taunting,” Rowan said, leaning in a little further. “I had to find another avenue.”

He dragged his hand down the bookcase, right next to Aelin’s body but he made sure not to touch her. She watched fingers dragged over the spines, pages and wood, then as they stopped right text to her hip.

“So what will it be, Aelin?” Rowan said, bringing their faces within an inch of each other. “Will you go back and read my book, or shall I convince you to stay with me for a while?”

Aelin tipped her head up so that their lips almost brushed. “I might be able to be convinced.”

“How shall I do it? Words or with my tongue and teeth?” He accentuated that question by closing the distance and pressed a biting kiss to Aelin’s bottom lip. She’d had so much fun quoting his books, he might as well start quoting hers. That line had always been a particular favourite of his.

Her answering moan was beautiful, and it spiked the arousal that was already coursing through him. There would be no way in hell he’d be able to go back to writing without fucking her first. Aelin would take hold of every thought and moment, and he’d probably just end up typing her name over and over again. And it wasn’t like she didn’t already occupy every other waking thought, but with this need consuming him Rowan would be utterly useless.

“Yeah, that,” Aelin said breathlessly. “Your mouth is what I want, Rowan.”

“Your pleasure is mine, princess,” he told her, another quote, which she traded in kind.

“Do your worst, Prince.”

Aelin laughed breathlessly as Rowan brought their bodies flush, with a rough tug on her hips and his lips descended to her neck. That sound was cut short when his teeth dragged over her neck, replacing the soft press of his lips. Aelin moulded into him and Rowan used that to his advantage. With hands on her waist he guided her backwards, until her back was resting on the step ladder he used to reach the books on the upper shelves. Aelin had gushed over it when she’d first seen it, told him she was getting jealous of his library. She was about to enjoy it for an entirely different reason.

Rowan lifted her just a little, so she could perch on one of the flat steps. It took half a second for her to realise what Rowan was doing, and the way he dropped to his knees was the final confirmation. He ran his hands up and down Aelin’s calves, watching as confidence and lust spread through her—her chin lifted, a pointed foot leading her leg over his shoulder as her arms twined upwards to hold onto the ladder. She looked like a god ready to be worshipped.

As promised, his tongue and teeth teased a course up her leg. Aelin’s composure was lasting but he didn’t miss the way her body shuddered when his fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear and dragged them down her legs. As his lips travelled higher still, Rowan pushed the hem of his hoodie up. The tension between them went taut, Aelin waiting for him to do something and Rowan considering when he’d put her out of her misery.

He didn’t have the care to wait. Three more kisses up her thigh and then Rowan had her moaning on his tongue. As often as they had found themselves in scenes like this, Rowan was still discovering how he could get Aelin to unravel under his ministrations. So he catalogued every sound, each little moan and sigh as he worked the apex of her thighs. Rowan made note of how Aelin’s fingers tightened in his hair when he flicked his tongue over her clit, the way her leg shook when he sucked hard. And the way her whole body shuddered when he bit at delicate skin.

“Oh, fuck me,” Aelin groaned. “How are—oh!”

A flat lick of his tongue had Aelin writhing and Rowan could tell she was close. He’d learned that much, he could feel it in the way her body was as tight as a drawn bow string. It wouldn’t take much more for her to break. And he needed it.

He swirled his tongue around her clit and that was all it took. Aelin moaned, the sound coming from deep within her throat. Her body shook from pleasure, and she clung to the ladder like a lifeline. Rowan didn’t stop moving until she did, praising her with soft kisses on her thighs.

“Gods, Rowan,” Aelin panted as he stood to his full height. “This might be my new favourite piece of furniture.”

Rowan might have joined in with her laughter if he hadn’t been painfully hard. Watching her come without him was both a curse and a blessing. It was as hot as hell but left him wanting her even more. Aelin must have caught onto his dilemma because this time it was her reaching out to pull him forward by his hips, no hesitation before her hand slipped into his sweats. His hand that slammed into the books by her head nearly sent them flying.

“That feels good,” he groaned, loving the way her hand dragged over the length of him.

“Where do you want me?” Aelin breathed, her lips hot on his neck.

The bedroom was too far, and three out of four walls in this room were covered in books, the last had his desk blocking the way. It was hard to think straight with Aelin’s hands on him, but he needed to answer her question. There was an armchair in the corner where he liked to read. That would be his best option.

Rowan gathered Aelin into his arms and carried her over to that chair, falling into it bringing her with him. They wasted no time, as soon as he was down Rowan slipped a hand under the hoodie, feeling the soft skin beneath. He groaned when he found out she wore absolutely nothing beneath, Aelin swallowing the sound with a kiss.

She started moving on him, grinding down on his hard cock. Rowan’s head fell back, his breath falling into rhythm with Aelin’s movements. “I gotta have you.”

“I know.” Aelin pushed off him, standing between his spread knees. Her hands gripped the bottom of the hoodie, pulling it up slowly.

It was tortuous, watching the revelation inch by inch. Rowan palmed himself through his pants trying to ease some of the strain. When Aelin stood before him, utterly naked and beautiful, Rowan started to ask himself how he got so lucky.

She lent forward, hands bracing on the chair arms. “Am I going to have to dash to the bedroom for a condom, or…”

“Desk drawer,” Rowan nearly barked.

Aelin smirked at his tone, and while she strutted over there Rowan took the opportunity to get rid of his own clothes. He only got as far as ridding himself of his t-shirt and lost sight of her as he pulled it over his head. Just like magic, when his vision was a haze of black cotton, she seemed to appear right in front of him. The foil package was ripped open and the next thing he knew Aelin was kissing him, pulling his pants down just far enough to free his cock.

“Ready, there handsome?” Aelin teased, always ready to unleash some of her sass. It was one of the things that he’d come to really enjoy about her. His brain was currently too lust addled to give that idea some proper thought. If he considered it for long he might say something that might be considered a little preemptive.

“When it comes to you, always,” Rowan said instead.

Aelin went to lower herself into his lap when he stopped her, with broad hands on her waist. She looked annoyed and confused, until Rowan urged her to turn around. He kept one hand on her hip to guide her and the other ran up the bare skin of her back to the nape of her neck. Aelin arched into his touch, sighing heavily at the first brush of the head of his cock through her folds.

“Please, Rowan,” Aelin gasped. “I know you need me.”

Those words were his undoing and he tugged Aelin into his lap, fully seating himself inside her. They both moaned at that blissful, intimate contact, the feeling was something Rowan would never tire of. Aelin lay back on his chest, a hand sliding into his hair to give her something to hold on to. Rowan wasn’t idle either, touching everywhere he could reach before resting on her breasts.

“Gods, yes,” Aelin breathed as he started to play with her hardened nipples.

“You’re perfect,” Rowan said onto her skin, twisting a bud between his fingers—just shy of pain.

His reward was a sudden jerk of Aelin’s hips and a sharp tug to the strands of his hair. Once she started moving, she couldn’t stop. Rowan timed his thrusts with the rolling grind of Aelin’s body—kissing her shoulder, her neck. Neither of them could keep quiet and the room filled with their sounds of pleasure. Rowan felt her inner wall tighten around him, making him bite down on the soft skin at the juncture on her neck and shoulder.

“Don’t draw it out, I won’t last,” Aelin told him.

That was more than enough reason for Rowan to take what he needed, that of course included Aelin coming on his cock. A hand snaked over her body, down her toned stomach right to where he knew his touch would make her come undone. Rowan’s finger drew quick circles around her clit, making Aelin cry out over and over again until she finished on a throaty moan.

Rowan kept her steady, chasing his own high with languid thrust as he helped Aelin ride out hers. He let go, release rushing through him, his body sinking into the plush armchair as his cock stopped pulsing. Aelin was limp against him and the sounds of her soft breaths is what brought him back to the present.

Aelin hummed, the sound was one of contentment. “I think I just got some inspiration for my new book.”

Rowan’s laughter shook both of them. “Will you dedicate it to me so when your next heroine gets laid in a library your readers know who to thank?”

“That’s not such a bad idea,” Aelin said. “Everyone should know just how lucky you are.”

With a hand on her chin, Rowan tilted her face so he could kiss her—long enough that Aelin was breathless when they stopped. He took a moment just to appreciate how truly lucky he was to have this beautiful woman to call his. A thumb brushed along Aelin’s cheek and Rowan kissed her again, then said, “I’ll be sure to do the same.”

~~~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleep-and-books // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @sleeping-and-books // @ttakeitbacknoww // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @empire-of-wildfire // @camerooonchiu // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @tswaney17 // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @flowerspringsea // @chaoticskyy // @the-regal-warrior // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @chemicha // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @1islessthan3books // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @firestarsandseneschals // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships // @df3ndyr // @trinitybailey2003 // @gwynethhberdara // @booknerdproblems // @larisssss // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @anntheintrovert // @starbornvalkyrie // @loudphantomdragon // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @sierrareads // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @rowaelinismyotp // @pullnpeeltwizzlers // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction // @gracie-rosee // @elriel4life // @rowaelinrambling // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis // @swankii-art-teacher // @grandma-noob-lord // @vanzetanze // @highlady-brittney // @story-scribbler // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren // @surielandiareendgame // @silentquartz // @live-the-fangirl-life // @whimsicallyreading // @goddess-aelin // @littleboxofthunder // @empress-ofbloodshed // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae // @charlizeed // @feysand-loml // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen // @alyx801 // @amandaswallowtail // @louiseleblancdiggory // @abookishfreak // @danibutterr // @thegreyj // @lizzyfirebringer // @endlessdaydream // @magnifique1807 // @s-uppertime // @rowaelinscourt

#aelinweek #aelinweek2023 #rowaelin fanfiction #i wish you would #it's a oneshot is the biggest lie of my life

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leiawritesstories · 2 years

Note

Currently on my knees at chick fil a begging you to let them be happy again 😭

.................................................................................does it help if i promise there's a part 2 in my drafts?

#honestly it was supposed to be a really long oneshot #that ended with them making up #but then the angst monster got hold of me #and this happened #but there is more begging to be written #rowaelin

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morganofthewildfire · 1 year

Text

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The Trouble With Tinder

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a rowaelin oneshot.... maybe

just a little fun au! parts of their job are inspired by The Hating Game

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If Aelin Galathynius was certain of anything in her life, it was that she hated Rowan Whitethorn.

A coworker at the same publishing firm as her, she’d known him for a few years at this point. And throughout those years, she hadn’t warmed up to him whatsoever.

They were technically at the same level, but he treated her like he was her boss, always assigning tasks and acting like he needed to double check her work. Acting like he was better than her. It was infuriating.

But she needed this job too much to quit, so she had to just deal with it.

“Aelin?” The receptionist, Elide’s, voice crackled through the intercom in her office. “Rowan’s asking for you.”

But sometimes, it was harder to deal with than others.

“Okay, thanks Elide,” Aelin called back, huffing through her nose. She was being summoned, like a fucking animal. But instead of just protesting and staying put, she pushed out of her chair roughly, stomping to the door in her excessively tall stiletto heels.

Flowy pants, a silky tank top, and heels. It was pretty much a variation of the same outfit every day, and she always felt powerful in it. Powerful, yet feminine, two attributes that were not contradictory.

And in her feminine outfit, she traveled over to one of two doors in her office. One led out to the main room, where most of the other desks were situated, her team of publicists working on their own work assignments. She and Rowan were both co-managers of the department, Rowan heading up more of the editorial side of things while she worked more on marketing. They both delivered reports of the company’s progress to their managers, the Executives whose offices were upstairs.

This quarter's report was undoubtedly what he wanted to talk to her about.

So she went through the second door, which unfortunately connected right to Rowan’s adjoining office. She didn’t like being that close, but as their positions were close, the access was necessary.

“What, Whitethorn?” Aelin asked drily, pushing open the door and leaning against it. Like always, her heart stuttered a bit when she looked at him. He was just sitting at his desk, in his white button down and his smooth backed silvery hair.

He looked like he did everyday, but that was the problem. He was hot.

Dangerously hot. And wickedly intelligent, though she didn’t like to admit it, which nearly attracted her as much as his looks did.

But he was a major asshole, so she was able to push aside whatever lingering attraction she had.

Especially when Rowan gestured idly to the chair in front of his desk, making her fume at the dismissive nature of it. Making sure her indignation was known, she swayed over there, sitting down roughly and crossing her legs, leaning back into the chair and bouncing her foot.

“I read your part of the report you sent over,” Rowan said, still typing away on his laptop, not looking at her.

“Okay,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And?”

“It’s fine,” he said, flatly, but she could hear the judgment in it.

“Fine?” She questioned, raising a brow. And he finally looked up from his laptop, pausing in his work and leaning back in his chair.

“There’s a few weak areas that I tagged and emailed back to you,” he said, and she felt that familiar burst of anger.

“I sent that to you as a favor so we could make sure we’re on the same page,” Aelin spit, crossing her arms. “Not so you could check my work like you’re my teacher.” Rowan narrowed his eyes.

“When someone’s work is known to be a little lackluster, it’s best for everyone to make sure that it’s adequate,” he said, smiling smugly.

“You bas-” she started to curse, until he cut her off.

“Language, Galathynius,” he chastised, returning to his laptop. “We’re in an office, we have to be civilized.” Oh if she could say what she really wanted to right now…

“I’m not making the changes you’re suggesting,” Aelin said instead, her jaw clenched. “My work is fine. And I’m sure our bosses will agree.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, closing the lid of his laptop. “Whatever you say, Galathynius,” he said, sliding his laptop into his bag. “If you want to keep shoddy work, that’s on you. I’ll just look better for the upcoming promotion.” Oh fuck him. That was another reason tension was so high between them, there was the promise of a promotion hanging in the balance, a promotion to the executive team instead of lower management.

Both of them were under consideration for it, but only one of them could get the job.

Aelin wasn’t necessarily obsessed with the idea of it, really her dream was to be an author, and publish books of her own. But it was better than where she was at now, and she couldn’t stand the idea of Rowan being her boss.

“Where are you going?” Aelin interrupted her own train of thought, realizing he was standing up and packing. “It’s lunchtime.”

“None of your business,” he said, shooting her an odd look as he walked toward the door. “Just worry about your own work.” He pushed open the office door, unable to resist shooting one last retort at her. “It needs it.”

He shut the door behind him, leaving Aelin sitting there alone.

She needed a fucking drink.

--------

She did in fact get a drink. Her best friend Lysandra left work early and came over to her apartment at her insistence, where they drank wine and got ready before going out and getting more drunk than Aelin had been in months.

But she needed it. Desperately. Especially if she’d be working overtime next week to fix her already perfect work. Except it wasn’t perfect. After his dismissal in his office, she’d gone back and looked at the changes he’d suggested to her part of their presentation. And unfortunately - he was right. She’d missed some important pieces, and overemphasized pieces that they didn’t need to highlight.

His suggestions made it stronger. Which pissed her off.

She started cursing him under his breath as she fought with her keys to unlock her front door. She and Lys had taken an Uber home, and now all she wanted to do was just collapse into her bed.

Aelin finally managed to get the door open, after several minutes of rattling the handle, and then she stumbled inside, shutting and locking it behind her. She rubbed her face idly as she maneuvered into her bedroom, smearing her already ruined makeup.

She flopped onto her fluffy bed, kicking off her heels idly as she sunk into the way too comfortable comforter. Damn Rowan. Damn his perfect eyes and his perfect tattoo and his perfect muscles. And his perfect ability to make her lose her temper.

She hated him.

With the alcohol coursing through her, she reached for her phone, barely able to see the screen through her bleary, mascara coated eyes as she unlocked it. Her dress was riding up her thighs, her face partially covered by a fluffy pillow as she scrolled through her apps, looking for something to distract her until she inevitably fell asleep.

Instagram, Twitter, that random game she’d downloaded after an ad had convinced her to… so many options.

But her self-sabotaging self decided to click on Tinder.

Tinder.

It was 2 am on a Saturday night, or Sunday morning depending on how you looked at it. Anything on Tinder right now was just an absolutely horrible idea. But she was ready to make an absolutely horrible decision.

The first face she saw was handsome enough. A little boring maybe, with brown hair and brown eyes, and a down to earth, rugged look that would have suited her back in high school but not now. Chaol Westfall. He was six feet, according to him, and was a cop.

At that, she swiped left.

She didn’t need to date another cop.

The next face caught her eye. He was more classically handsome, with black hair and bright blue eyes. And a wicked grin that made him look like he could keep up with her mischief and relish in doing it. Dorian Havilliard was his name.

Nope. She recognized that last name. She didn’t need a daddy’s boy or a nepo baby in her life. Rich maybe, yes. But spoiled. And that would irritate her.

Left.

She huffed as she scrolled through an uncountable number of faces, swiping left, left, left, for all of them. Until -

Green eyes. Distinctive silvery hair. That tattoo.

His first picture was a simple one, a candid of him with his hands in his pockets, clearly turning to someone off screen and laughing. His face was brighter than she ever saw it, and something in her chest warmed and unfurled. Must be the shots.

She scrolled down in his profile, glancing over the information. It was all stuff she knew. Where he worked: with her; how tall he was: a delicious 6’4”; where he was from: Doranelle; whether he was a dog person or a cat person: dog. Their only neutral territory was her dog, Fleetfoot. He pretended not to care whenever she’d show pictures of her to other coworkers, cooing over how cute she was, but Aelin would catch him peering over someone’s shoulders, hoping for a look.

And she knew for a fact he had a picture of his own dog framed and on his desk.

And there the dog was, in the next picture on his profile. He was crouching down on what looked like a dock at a lake, posing with his adorable terrier mix of a dog, smiling yet again.

And shirtless.

She was way too drunk for this. So drunk she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his tan, mouthwatering, skin. He was so godsdamned muscular, with a godsdamned six pack, and arms. He could totally lift her and press her against a wall, and throw her on the bed without exerting any sort of effort at all.

And the tattoo. She only ever got a glimpse of it out of the collar and sleeve of his work shirts, but here it was in all of its glory. Black, swooping ink, tracing down those muscles of his. She wanted to trace every inch of it with her tongue.

She’d start there, before going down his chest, laving over every inch of his abs, hands running up and down that smooth skin before dipping into the waistband of his pants, taking his whole length into her mouth, playing with him until he came down her throat…

Gods. She needed to fucking stop.

But the heat was already racing through her, pooling uncomfortably in her core. Her toes curled in her sheets, biting her lip as she stared at the screen.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was her infuriating thumb, but before she could change her mind, she swiped right.

Her eyes went wide as it loaded, her heart thumping in her chest until it stopped completely as her phone lit up with a truth she couldn’t comprehend.

You have a match!

-----

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

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass au #ttwt

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justreadertings · 1 year

Text

“Promise”

Ok so I was writing Sweet Understanding but I cannot stand Rowaelin seperation so I NEEDED to write this. I think I reread it once? So if it’s iffy that’s why. Beisdes this is more the “I’m zoning out in class and want to think of a Rowaelin hurt/comfort situation” typa thing. This is also my way of saying maybe? another Sweet Understanding chapter this weeked? I think! I’m making progress! Ok I’ll stop rambling, here a canon Rowaelin oneshot for ya- Magee

Masterlist

TW: nightmares, PTSD, slight mention of blood.

Aelin bolted up from bed. Darkness caked their room, but her shaking hands could not light the candles next to their bed. Rowan was immediately up next to her, his reflexes quick as a cat. Light festered in instantly, the matches already discarded by their bedside table, his hands rubbing up and down her back.

Sweat poured down her face, and she kicked the blankets away as she tried to breathe. Rowan grabbed one of her hands, and placed it on his solid, steady heart. It helped her, even if exhaustion was starting to play tricks with her mind. She could still taste the blood in her mouth, still felt dirty with it.

Her fingernails dug into Rowan’s forearm. “Get him out of here,” she gritted, eyes shut tight.

“Who, Fireheart?” he asked her, voice level. When she felt entirely herself, she would have taken time to appreciate her stony warrior, not fazed by her insanity. But she felt too far from herself. Too out of it. And she could literally smell him from across their bedroom. How did he even get in here?

Nausea crept up in her. “Rowan, get him out of here.”

“No one is here but me and you.”

Tears clouded her vision. “No, Rowan. He’s here. I need-” her voice faulted. She didn’t feel angry anymore, she was just… scared. And she hated being scared but gods, she couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t go through it all again. She wasn’t strong enough. Aelin began crying in earnest. “Rowan, I can't do it. Please get him out of here.”

Her mate’s hands rubbed soothing circles on her back, and she wished she could sink into the comfort of it. “Who is here, Aelin? Tell me and I’ll get rid of him.”

She shook her head, frantically. It was like her past and her present weren’t catching up to her, like she woke up but not quite right. “Cairn,” she told him. “I can smell him- I- I can feel him.” Aelin gagged at the scent clogging up her nose before it was replaced by the intense smell of her mate’s rage.

It was enough to pull her to open her eyes. She stared at him for a moment, chest still heaving. Aelin placed a hand over her mouth before a wash of calm and exhaustion spread over her. Tears fell from her eyes. The world came back into focus.

“Rowan,” she sighed, leaning to rest her forehead on his shoulder.

Rowan’s fingers drifted through her hair, giving her both the comfort she craved and the space to think.

“I could have sworn he was at the foot of our bed,” she finally whispered.

His fingers worked her tense neck. “I know, Fireheart.”

Pure exhaustion weighed on her. “I’m so tired,” she told him.

“I know,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her cheek. Her neck. Even if she was damp with sweat.

“I hate him,” she gritted. “I hate that I can even conjure his face. I hate that he has that power.”

Rowan spoke against her forehead. “He’s long gone. Far from this world. Rotting in a hell somewhere.”

She nodded, still trying to catch her breath. Rowan laid back on their pillows, and she crawled onto him, resting her head over his beating heart. Aelin intertwined their legs, not knowing where she stopped and he began.

“Do you think there'll ever be a night where we’ll just… sleep?” She asked him, breath ghosting his chest.

Rowan continued to stroke her hair, his other hand banded around her middle. “One day, Fireheart.”

Aelin’s eyes fluttered closed. “Promise?”

The last thing she heard before falling back to sleep was her mate’s soft voice, her comfort in her worst moments. “I promise.”

Taglist

@leiawritesstories

@tomtenadia

@fireheart-violet

@backtobl4ck

@morganofthewildfire

@rowaelinismyotp

@aelinchocolatelover

@thegreyj

@foughtconquered

@swankii-art-teacher

@booklover242

@stardelia

@numbers-colors-fashion

@bookcide

@viajandosinalas

@rowanaelinn

@elentiyawhitethorn

@emily-gsh

@athena127

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship

#rowaelin #tog #sjm #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass #sjm fanfiction #tog fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius

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sarahjswift · 11 months

Text

A Terrible Day - Rowaelin Oneshot

I'm trying to expand my writing resume on this app, because all the wonderful creators I follow have these insanely long masterlists with links that lead to more links that lead to more links and it's everything I want to be XD

I wrote this in a frenzy of two hours, including breaks for running and to gulp down some iced tea and eat a slice of cheesecake :D

If you go to my masterlist(https://docs.google.com/document/d/1rNsQz959dwBibJ4ydmb6_0fixjSEBXBiVRKVoyd-tQ0/edit), you will see the fics I wrote for the 2023 Aelin Week. Most, if not all of my fics are in AUs but I thought I'd switch it up with a "what happened next" kind of fic, which is what I did for Aelin Week. Not saying I liked it more than my other AUs, but it was just cozy to write you know? ☺☺

If you'd like me to do more of these, let me know! It's a Oneshot for now but we'll see, I could just do short stories of their adventures inbetween my current projects!

This is the most NSFW thing I've ever written and I felt so guilty doing it - I kept glancing around like I had a bomb or something LMAO. It's not even that bad I don't think, but I COULDN'T DO IT *sobs*

How do you fanfic writers do it???

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language, Smut

Summary: Aelin has a bad day and sweet sweet Rowan cheers her up (mostly just fluff)

Tag List <33: @backtobl4ck, @aelinchocolatelover, @renxzs, @blue-bird17, @autumnbabylon, and @luell1q

enjoy dear readers!!

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius had had a terrible day.

Not like her usual bad days - where Fleetfoot had rubbed mud all over a new dress, or the bakery in Terrasen Square was closed (although she shuddered whenever she thought of those days) - but bad in the sense that she felt her chest constricting. Darrow hadn’t budged on the topic of Aelin’s passion project - a community garden for the citizens of Terrasen. A trivial want, yes, but it was close to Aelin’s heart.

However, as Darrow had made extremely clear at their meeting; “A community garden is a complete waste of resources. We need to focus on rebuilding Terrasen before we have the time to worry about meaningless projects such as that.”

Now Aelin was trudging down the hallway, melancholic. At least it’s the end of the week, she thought glumly. She had no more meetings, nothing to work on for the next three days.

The queen reached her private corridor. Here lay her bedroom, personal library, and office(well, one of many). Aelin often felt guilt over the luxuries that she indulged here, but she couldn't help wanting to live in this area of the castle - her parents had as well, and she could sometimes hear the pitter-patter of her feet running down the hall, her giggles as she raced her father. Remembering these moments was a happy thing, but today it just made her more depressed.

Two guards monitored this corridor - Beor and Alys. Beor was a kind, shy man, and the only time he ever talked was to rave about his wife and two young daughters. Alys was a fierce woman who had clearly been through unimaginable things, which only became more apparent from the vicious scar slashed down the side of her face. She was strong and reminded Aelin of Nesryn. Aelin liked the two guards greatly, but she pitied them occasionally when she was reminded of what…sounds they were witness to, as they were stationed outside her bedroom door during the night. The morning after her birthday, Beor could barely look her in the eye without going beet red.

Aelin nodded to them as she passed. “Majesty,” they both murmured, bowing briefly. She flashed them a quick smile, all she could muster, before retreating into her bedroom. She faced the door, locked it behind her, and burst into tears.

All the stress from the day caught up to her - Darrow, missing her parents, the strain of the crown. She slid to the floor, not even bothering to turn around as she cried, hugging herself. She prayed Alys and Beor couldn’t hear her, not as-

“Aelin?”

She froze when she heard that deep voice say her name. “Shit.” She knew who it was instantly, but turned around still to find her husband and mate, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius. He stood there, his face full of concern for his wife, and the sight of it made Aelin sob harder.

“Hey, hey,” Rowan soothed, advancing toward her in a split second. He held her close, sitting there on the floor with her, and Aelin turned fully toward him, clutching his shirt, crying into his neck. He was so strong, so steady that Aelin felt like she’d been drowning and now she’d found a lifevest.

Rowan stroked her hair and rubbed her back simultaneously, patiently waiting as she cried it out. Finally, she scooted back, sniffling. “Oh, Gods, I’m so sorry.” Aelin couldn’t meet his eye as she wiped her cheeks, focusing on the floor. She probably looked like a mess.

“Aelin.” He tilted her face up, piercing green eyes scanning her face. She only realized now he was tense, jaw clenched, filled with a mix of concern and anger that somebody had hurt her, something only a mate could feel. “What happened?”

“I’m fine, first of all,” she sighed. She smiled as he slumped with relief, but it faded as she recounted her day. “Darrow…Darrow is still very against the garden idea. I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid. He sure thinks it is.”

“Wait, why is he against the garden?” Rowan frowned. “I love the idea.”

Aelin arched a brow. “I think you’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not!” her mate protested. “It’s a great idea, Aelin. Darrow might not see it, but it could help those who were affected - ah, hell, let’s be frank. I think every being in the world has at least some trauma, and I really think the garden could help them. It could help them build something, trust in something.”

“Well, thank you, buzzard. That’s the idea, but it’s too silly to spend money on.” Aelin leaned back into her husband, who immediately encircled his arms around her. She ran her fingers down his muscled arms, pressing down slightly. She snickered as she felt him flex underneath her fingertips. “We need the money to be put toward the library, and just getting our bearings after the war.”

“I thought we were well off.”

“We are - our coffers run extremely deep. I don’t think we will have to worry about money ever again, thank Gods. But that’s us. Our money is different from Terrasen’s money.”

“Hmm.” Aelin could almost feel Rowan frowning, thinking of something to help her problem. The thought warmed her heart and she tilted her head up, observing him. He is so beautiful, she thought. His bronze skin was smooth, his lashes long, his bone structure immaculate. But of course, she was drawn to his eyes. It was always his pine green eyes. They would always, always be her favorite asset of his. She ran her fingers lightly over his face, tracing it to memory like she’d done hundreds of times, like she’d do many more times.

“Aelin,” he breathed. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He opened up to her and she kissed him deeply, threading her fingers through his hair to tug him to her. She felt his warm hands slip up her shirt and she broke the kiss, biting her lip as she watched him. Rowan leaned in and kissed down her neck. She gasped as she felt his tongue on her skin, digging her hands into his shoulders.

She kissed him roughly, their lips falling into a rhythm, and she made to unbutton her shirt. “Wait,” Rowan murmured onto her lips, holding her hands firmly in his to still them. She broke away, confused and a little hurt. As if seeing the second emotion in her eyes, he kissed her on the lips quickly - or at least, he tried to make it quick, but Aelin followed his head with her own, prolonging the kiss. As her tongue brushed his, her mate groaned before pulling away again.

“Why do you keep pulling away?” she panted, resting her forehead on his. Rowan released her hands to stroke her cheeks. She felt him breathe in her scent and smiled, knowing it comforted him as much as his did her.

“Well, for one I’m not taking you on the floor,” he started, chuckling when she smacked his arm.

It’s not like it’s never been done before, she said to him, mind-to-mind. She felt him freeze and glance up at her smirking face.

“You’re making this harder,” he grumbled.

“Good,” she snickered. He stared at her confused, before going red as he got the joke. She cackled for the first time today, standing up from the floor. She helped him get to his feet as well, laughing again as he winced and rubbed his back. Her buzzard, ever the old man.

“And two,” he glared at her, “I thought it would help you cheer up if we went to Finlas’s.”

Aelin squealed. Finlas, a kind old man, owned her favorite place to eat in Terrasen - Finlas’s. He served the most amazing dishes, not to mention their desserts. “Yes. Oh, Rowan, you’re the best!”

Rowan grinned, pleased with himself. “Well, let's go then.”

They got ready in a matter of minutes. As Rowan went to tell Alys and Beor, Aelin checked her reflection and groaned. Her face was red and puffy from crying. She splashed cold water on her face and frantically rubbed a jade green marble over her skin, something Lysandra had said would help with puffiness and bone structure. Luckily, it seemed to do the job. Dressed in the simple white shirt and black skin tight pants she’d worn all day, Aelin grabbed her bag and hurried to leave.

The mates walked out of the castle and towards the Square, hand in hand. It was a beautiful early summer evening, the sky darkening to pinks and purples, the humid air cooling to an ideal temperature. The spring flowers were giving way to green, every tree lush and bountiful. Aelin swelled with happiness as she looked around her kingdom, even more so as they reached the Square and saw people milling about, shopping and talking.

They reached Finlas’s and Rowan hurried to open the door for her. Aelin smirked as she passed. “What a gentleman,” she teased, and Rowan rolled his eyes. To their delight, Finlas himself greeted them and led them to a booth in the back. The back of the establishment was clearly meant for couples, with its dimmer lighting and flickering candles on the tables. Each seat even had a red rose placed atop its plate. As they walked by, people stared and whispered to each other.

“Enjoy your meal,” Finlas said warmly, before bowing and hurrying off to greet the next customer. Aelin settled into the cushioned booth, watching her mate as he did the same.

“What are you going to get?” Rowan asked. Aelin opened her mouth to respond before he interrupted. “Wait, no - let me guess. A medium-rare, absolutely massive steak with fried potatoes, and a fizzy drink?”

Aelin grinned. “Exactly. Great job, buzzard. Now let me guess; a curry that you will burn your tongue on like you do every single time, an iced tea and some bread?”

Rowan barked a laugh. “Exactly.”

They ordered just that, and enjoyed the meal. Aelin groaned improperly as she took her first bite of steak, sounding enough like another activity that Rowan shot her an annoyed look.

“Sometimes I can’t tell if food or me gives you more pleasure,” he hissed across the table.

“Can’t it be both?” Rowan was not pleased with that, and to Aelin’s delight her husband glared at her plate for the next ten minutes, as if it were another man who had stolen her away.

They talked of their days and their plans for the next coming weeks. Rowan was working every day on the building of the library, which was coming along speedily, most likely thanks to his Fae strength and speed. He’d even begun to help with the design aspect of the building, something Aelin wholeheartedly trusted him with. “By this time next year, you will most likely be picking out books to stock the library with,” Rowan told her. A task Aelin was most excited for, and already planning to enlist Dorian with.

Finlas brought them a huge chocolate cake free of charge. “Oh no, we couldn’t,” Aelin protested, reaching for her wallet. “It’s really to trouble at all-”

“Stop, Your Majesty,” Finlas said gently. “After what you’ve done for us - you deserve all the food in this restaurant for free.” At Aelin’s confusion, he explained; “I was a victim to a Valg raiding of my village. They took my son for their army, but…Your Majesty made sure he was safe. I have my son back now.”

“That was all Yrene, not me,” she managed to say, overcome with grief for Finlas.

Finlas shook his head. “No, Majesty. It was because of Lady Yrene, but you were the one who saved Lady Westfall, and then sent Lord Chaol to the Southern Continent to heal. Because of your kindness, you saved my son, no matter how distant the efforts were.”

Aelin couldn’t see through the blur of tears, and gave Finlas a watery smile. “Thank you.”

They walked back to the castle, the sky even darker. Aelin smiled as she looked around, surrounded by people walking through the city. Laughter filled the air, the type of laughter she hadn’t heard in a while. She pulled Rowan into an alleyway abruptly, ignoring his yelp of surprise.

“Thank you, Rowan,” she said to him. “My day was shit and now…you turned it into a happy day. You…you truly just know me so well. It still surprises me sometimes.”

Rowan smiled down at her, his face soft and open in a way she knew it only was for her. “Anything for my Fireheart.”

He bent his head and kissed her. She drew him down, opening the kiss. She felt him wrap a shield around them and glanced over, giggling when she saw him using his power to prop large slates of wood to separate their alley from the bustling town square. The noise disappeared, the only sound their ragged breaths.

“I love you,” she breathed, tipping her head back as he pulled her shirt off. His nostrils flared as he took her in, gripping her waist, rubbing his thumb over her skin.

“I love you too,” he gritted out, his eyes near black. He leaned forward and Aelin couldn’t help her loud moan as he went to work on her upper assets. She felt him huff a laugh onto her skin, and managed to pant out a; “What?”

“I made you moan louder than when you ate that steak,” he smirked, staring up at her with an expression of complete male satisfaction. She laughed, but went quiet as he claimed her mouth.

Quickly they were both only in their lower undergarments, standing in their piles of clothes. Aelin shifted impatiently, waiting for him to take her against the brick, but he was examining the wall with concern. “What are you waiting for?” she begged.

“This seems...unsanitary,” he frowned. She whined, but he still wouldn’t move - at least, until she dragged her fingers down, down his stomach…

Later, he rolled off of her, both of them panting. After the alley, they’d dressed and hurried home before he took her twice more. She should give Beor and Alys a raise, honestly.

Aelin sunk into the pillows, sleep already overtaking her. She was so glad they’d invested in this luxurious, massive bed. Rowan laid on top of her, his head on her heart, and Aelin’s arms encircled him, fingers toying with his hair. With her mate laying with her like this, the plush mattress beneath her, the soft blankets, and the feeling of happy exhaustion from the pleasure of before, she was in heaven. But just before sleep took her, her mate interrupted the peaceful silence.

“Fireheart,” he whispered into the darkness, “did you have a good day?”

Aelin smiled down at her mate, knowing the male in her arms was the male she’d worship and adore for the rest of her days. “Yes, Buzzard. Yes I did.”

#sarah j maas #throne of glass #fanfic #rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #little canon fluffs #adorable #rowaelin fanfic

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sassyhobbits · 1 year

Text

Vacation

happy new year!! here’s a cute lil oneshot to start it off. It’s part elorcan, part aelin and lorcan frienemies, with a dash of rowaelin. big shoutout to @nalgenewhore for letting me borrow stella for this fic <3.

~~~

Lorcan Salvaterre-Lochan scowled at the door he stood before, listening to the final cheery echoes of the bell fade away within the house behind it. His wife was beside him, holding a little, sparkly purple bag that belonged to their daughter, who was currently wiggling in excitement in his arms.

"If you glare any harder at the door it's going to go up in flames," Elide said, raising a thick, dark brow. "Rowan's your best friend. Stella's gonna be just fine here this weekend."

Lorcan’s scowl deepened. "It's not Rowan I'm worried about."

He and Elide had decided to take a rare weekend to themselves to celebrate their anniversary. They booked a room in a nice resort a few hours outside of Orynth with a lovely pool that he knew his wife looked forward to lounging by with an endless supply of fruity drinks and a couple of romance novels she had packed. Lorcan was just happy to have an opportunity to wine and dine his wife, and enjoy a nice, private room where they didn’t have to worry about a toddler bursting in at odd hours of the night.

Rowan Whitethorn was, as Elide said, Lorcan’s best friend. Stella adored him as well, especially when he let her color the tattoos that stretched up and down his arm. Lorcan had no doubts that his daughter would be in good hands with him. However, Rowan’s fiancé was another story.

It wasn’t as though she was untrustworthy. She was responsible and kind to Stella, who absolutely was obsessed with her. On top of that, she was one of Elide’s oldest, closest friends. She and Lorcan simply… grated on one another. Lots of snappy remarks back and forth that made Elide and Rowan roll their eyes. Lorcan swore he tried his best to be civil, but Rowan’s fiancé made pissing him off her life’s mission.

The door swung open, revealing the blonde object of his ire.

His daughter, on the other hand, had differing opinions. Stella clapped and let out a jolly laugh at the woman before them. "Auntie A!"

Aelin Galathynius (golden, rich, infuriating) smiled widely. "Hello, Miss Stella!"

In his arms, Stella began squirming hard enough that Lorcan put her down. His daughter instantly ran towards Aelin, throwing herself at her legs and hugging them tightly. She laughed and squatted down, scooping Stella up and holding her on her hip.

"Looks like she missed you," Elide said.

Aelin placed an overly loud, smacking kiss on Stella's hair. "I missed her too!"

It was then that Rowan appeared a step behind Aelin, and Stella's joy was renewed. She reached towards him with cheers of Uncle Ro. Aelin was happy to pass the girl off to her fiancé.

"Thanks for watching her this weekend," Elide said, pulling her friend in for an embrace. His wife gave him a pointed look. "We really appreciate it."

Lorcan simply grunted in what almost appeared to be agreement.

A shit-eating grin spread on Aelin’s face as she leaned her shoulder against the doorframe. "Aw, Lorcan. Are you scared she's gonna like me more than you?"

"No. I'm afraid you're going to spoil her silly and turn her into a mini you."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It's my greatest nightmare."

At this, Elide pinched his arm sharply. But it clearly didn't hurt Aelin’s feelings. She only tossed her golden head back and laughed.

"I suppose we should be going," Elide sighed, a hint of sadness trailing in her voice. The quiet, private weekend would be nice. But they would miss Stella while they were gone. They always did.

Elide stepped forward, peppering kisses across Stella's face. "I'll miss you so much, my little star."

From her perch in Rowan’s arm, Stella said, "I'll miss you too, mama!"

Lorcan took his turn, kissing his daughter’s forehead. “Be good for Uncle Rowan.”

Stella smiled widely, nodding with vigor. Lorcan couldn’t help but think that she had her mother’s smile. Her coloring, the darker skin and silky black hair was all his. But the way her nose and eyes scrunched when she smiled… all Elide.

“We have a fun weekend planned for the little one,” Aelin said, taking Stella’s sparkly bag from Elide. “So the two of you just take it easy.”

“Ugh. I’ll do my best not to text for updates every fifteen minutes,” Elide said, slipping her hand into Lorcan’s. She looked like she wanted to say one last goodbye to Stella, but their daughter was already happily babbling away to Rowan about what she did in school this week. “I suppose we should be going now.”

“Get going!” Aelin said. “Enjoy your weekend.”

“We will! Thank you so much again!”

Elide gave a tiny tug on his hand, signaling that it was time to go. Lorcan sent one last withering glare at Aelin, which she returned with a middle finger she seemed to have waiting for him. Before he could give her one of his own, Elide had tugged him away towards the car.

Lorcan quickly felt his grievances towards Aelin melting away when his wife smiled up at him brightly. “I’m so excited to spend this weekend with you.”

With a smile of his own, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his wife’s lips. “Me too.”

And with that, they got into the car, and were on their way.

…

They listened to some of Elide’s favorite podcasts that she had fallen behind with on the drive there. The resort was nestled in the Staghorns, a beautiful building that was more opulent than Lorcan would have picked for himself, but he knew Elide deserved it. He had booked her some spa treatments, made sure they had her favorite wines and foods for room service… he wanted nothing more than to spoil her this weekend.

Their room was perfect. A large, fluffy bed with thick quilts centered in the middle, a sliding glass door that led to a balcony overlooking the mountains, and a huge bathroom with a swimming pool sized tub that Elide’s eyes lit up at. He knew what they would be doing after dinner that night.

There was a steakhouse in the resort that Lorcan had made reservations for tonight. They changed in their room, Elide into a slinky purple dress that worked wonders on her curves. Lorcan went with a black button down, which was likely the nicest piece of clothing he owned.

They were sat, ordered a bottle of red and some appetizers, talked and laughed. But, when Elide excused herself to go to the restroom before the food arrived, Lorcan’s mind wandered to his daughter. He knew they hadn’t been gone for more than four hours but… he grabbed his phone, opening Rowan’s message thread and sending, How’s Stella?

Rowan, the bastard, didn’t respond until they were finished with dinner and desert. Lorcan should have expected it. His friend was never known for his fast response times to texts. Eventually, though, he sent back a short response of Good accompanied with a picture. It was of Stella in her pajamas, curled up on the floor with Aelin’s dog, Fleetfoot, watching a movie that he recognized as Coraline, one of Stella’s favorites.

His phone buzzed with a text from Aelin not long after. This Coraline movie is fuckin horrific how does she not get nightmares.

Lorcan responded with a succinct, Pussy.

Aelin’s reply was quick, with an equally blunt, Get fucked, Lorcan Lochan.

With that, Lorcan decided to put down his phone for the rest of the night and join his wife in the bath.

…

Lorcan and Elide spent the next morning sleeping in, making lazy love in the morning light, before finally deciding to order breakfast up to their room. They drank their coffee and ate their food on the balcony, watching the sun begin to steadily rise over the Staghorns, Elide resting her legs across Lorcan’s lap.

Elide decided she wanted to lounge by the pool for a few hours. Lorcan had scheduled her a massage for the late afternoon, but there was plenty of time before then. By the time they had gotten down to the pool deck and stretched out on comfortable loungers, they received their first Stella update of the day. Rowan had sent a photo of Aelin and Stella sitting beside one another in the booth of a diner, a large plate of chocolate-chip pancakes between them that they both were eating off of.

Healthy start to the day, Rowan had captioned.

Elide had beamed at the photo and saved it to her own phone. Lorcan wondered how his friend had ended up with a woman who started her mornings with pure sugar while he couldn’t remember the last time Rowan had touched the stuff. A mystery.

Elide plowed through her novel while they soaked up the sun, and although Lorcan had brought a book himself, he spent most of his time admiring his wife.

The next update came a few hours later, as they were leaving the pool so Elide could head to the spa. The message and photo came from Aelin this time, and Lorcan couldn’t help but scowl at it.

Aelin had taken a selfie of her and Stella in a large mirror of what looked to be a department store. They wore matching, puffy jackets with leopard print and nearly-identical round sunglasses. She had captioned the photo Mini-me, echoing Lorcan’s words from when he had dropped her off.

I hate you, Lorcan texted back.

Aelin responded with a single red heart.

While Elide got her massage, Lorcan headed to the lobby bar for a drink of his own, ordering himself a nice bourbon and watching whatever sports game they had playing on the closest TV. After about forty-five minutes, his phone chimed with a message from Aelin again. This time, she had sent a photo of Stella perched on Rowan’s shoulders, enjoying an ice-cream covered in rainbow sprinkles. It looked like they were at the park closest to their place, enjoying the nice day.

How long do you think we’ll be picking sprinkles out of Rowan’s hair? Aelin asked.

Despite not wanting to laugh at something Aelin said, Lorcan still found himself chuckling. He wasn’t sure if poor Rowan’s hair would ever be free of sprinkles again.

Elide eventually came back from her massage, a relaxed, loving smile on her face when she greeted him. She gave him a long, slow kiss as a thank you which, when they arrived back to their room, quickly descended into a tumble in the sheets.

By the time they were finished, it was once again time for dinner. Lorcan had reserved them a table at a seafood restaurant that night and he knew Elide was quite excited to share some oysters.

Just as they were getting ready to head out, Lorcan received another message. This time, from Rowan. Elide came to his side, peeking at the photo they had been sent.

It was of Aelin and Stella, still wearing their matching jackets, on the floor of the children’s section of the bookstore, surrounded by towers of brightly illustrated books. Aelin was reading one to Stella, who was pointing and smiling at something she found to be delightful on the page.

I hope Stella has room on her bookshelves at home, Rowan said. Aelin’s buying her as much as Stella can get me to carry.

Elide laughed. “That’s our girl.”

Yes, she was. And Lorcan couldn’t wait to see her again tomorrow.

…

The dinner was delightful. They ordered dessert to their room and enjoyed chocolate-covered strawberries while lounging in bed. Lorcan and Elide thoroughly enjoyed their last night of total privacy… and then their morning as well.

And although their weekend had been nothing but bliss, Lorcan missed Stella greatly, as did Elide.

They arrived back at Rowan and Aelin’s home by noon, and it seemed their daughter had missed them just as well. The moment they stepped out of their car, the front door opened and Stella came running towards them, still wearing that puffy jacket Aelin got for her, a book in hand.

“Mama! Da!”

Stella reached Elide first, who squatted down and enveloped her in a tight embrace, kissing her silky black hair.

Stella then saw Lorcan over Elide’s shoulder, her smile growing impossibly wider. She ran to him, and he easily scooped his daughter up into his arms, pressing a kiss against her round cheek.

“I missed you, my little star,” Lorcan said.

“I missed you too!”

“Did you have fun with Rowan and Aelin?”

Stella nodded vigorously. “Yup! Auntie Aelin and I went shopping and we got matching coats and ice cream and she let me buy so, so many books and made Uncle Rowan carry them all.”

As if summoned, Rowan appeared in the doorway, holding two heavy bags of what could only be the books Aelin bought Stella, as well as her little purple bag slung over his shoulder. He greeted him with a tight smile. Aelin had come out as well, chatting with Elide, likely getting all the details about their weekend excursion.

“Should I just put these in the trunk?” Rowan asked.

“That will work just fine.”

Rowan nodded and made his way to the back of their car.

“Look at this book Auntie A got me!” Stella said, holding up the book she carried. “It’s my name!”

Lorcan looked at the cover, the fruit bat illustrated upon it and the title StellaLuna. It warmed his heart to see how excited his daughter was over it.

“That’s awesome. Did you like it?”

“So much! I made Uncle Rowan read it to me four times.”

“I actually think it was five,” Aelin interjected.

“Oh, yea,” Stella said. “Five times.”

Elide seemingly finished catching Aelin up on their weekend, coming to Lorcan’s side and taking Stella from his arms.

“Come on, my little star,” she said, smoothing her wild, black hair. “Let’s get ready to get home! Say bye to Uncle Rowan and Auntie A.”

Stella cheered her goodbyes, Rowan sweeping past and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head, Aelin coming, tickling her sides, before planting a smacking kiss to the center of her forehead. With that, Elide carried their daughter towards the back of their car, Rowan a step behind carrying the carseat they had borrowed for the weekend.

“Who do you think had a better time this weekend?” asked Aelin, arms crossed over her chest. “You, or Stella?”

“Tough to say. I didn’t have a rich aunt pay for piles of my books, though.”

“What’s the point of being a rich aunt if I can’t spoil Miss Stella?”

Lorcan chuckled lowly, looking towards his left where Aelin stood. “Thank you, Galathynius. Stella always has a great time when she visits.”

Aelin slapped a hand over her heart dramatically, jaw-dropped in mock-surprise. “Did Lorcan Salvaterre-Lochan just actually thank me? It must be the end times.”

Shaking his head, Lorcan nudged her shoulder with his. “Don’t get used to it, princess.”

With a wide smile on her face, Aelin nudged him back. Harder. “Wouldn’t dream of it, you prick.”

#elorcan #rowaelin #my writing

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live-the-fangirl-life · 2 years

Note

Halloween 26 for rowaelin!

A Haunting Halloween

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

“If I die because of your dumb idea, I will haunt you so hard!”

Halloween Dialogue Prompts

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Haunted House

1718 words

*******

“Oh, shit!” Aelin hissed as her foot caught on a tree root, jerking forward as the momentum of her body tried pulling her to the ground. But she didn’t fall, not as a pair of strong hands held her shoulders in a firm, steady grip.

When she got her feet back under her, Aelin let her boyfriend guide her along the path. Every few seconds, one of his hands would lift from her shoulders to hold a low-hanging branch out of her way, but each time she felt the absence of his hand, she hesitated, her hands instinctively reaching out ahead of her as she tried to feel her way through the night air.

She was starting to regret letting Rowan blindfold her.

The next time she stumbled was because instead of allowing herself to be nudged to the left, she kept straight and walked right into a tree stump, cursing as she leaned back into Rowan’s chest and shook out her foot. Huffing, she told him, “If I die because of your dumb idea, I’ll haunt you so hard.”

She didn’t have to see him to know he was rolling his eyes at her. “If you’d stop fighting me at every turn, then you wouldn’t be almost dying from tree stumps.” The light squeeze he gave her shoulders negated any true annoyance, but she could tell that the exasperation in his tone was real.

Finally relenting as Rowan’s hands dropped from her shoulders to her waist, Aelin accepted his guidance as they continued walking.

“Why do I have to wear a blindfold?” she asked for the dozenth time. “It’s dark, we’re walking through the woods that you and I both know I’ve never been through, and now my toes are going to be bruised. It isn’t like I’d recognize where we're going, so why do you insist on debilitating me?”

Rowan’s laugh sounded even more exasperated than his words a minute ago. “Aelin—”

“Have I finally made you snap? Are you bringing me out here to murder me?” she joked with an exaggerated gasp. “Slaying me in a spooky forest on Halloween – points for style, but not much originality.” She didn’t give him a second to answer before pleading with him again, “Rowan, come on, you know I hate surprises.”

He snorted and decided not to even touch the murder commentary. “No, you hate surprises that you didn’t plan yourself. You love surprises when you’re the one making everyone else’s hearts stop in their chests.”

She abruptly stilled and Rowan caught himself before he sent them both tumbling. “Are you saying my heart's going to stop? That isn’t much of a defense to my murder accusation.”

“I’m saying,” Rowan retorted, reaching out to grab a branch and hold it up and out of Aelin’s way, “stop arguing with me; you might actually like this surprise.”

“Seeing as I had no input, I’d say that’s doubtful.”

Rowan grumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” she asked with enough cheek to tell him she knew exactly which choice words he’d muttered.

He waited until he’d led her over a damp pile of leaves before answering, “Just reminding myself of how much I love you.”

She hummed. “Didn’t sound like that to me.”

“Yeah, well,” one of Rowan’s hands flexed on her waist and carefully guided her along the path. “Reminding myself why I shouldn’t let you live out your Halloween murder fantasy is the same thing.”

“Rude.” Aelin scoffed, resting one of her hands on one of his bracketing her waist to squeeze his fingers. His answering squeeze brought an amused smile to her face.

A minute passed in relative silence, broken only by the light crunches of their boots over the forest floor.

“We’re almost there,” Rowan assured as if he could tell she had just been about to ask.

“You still haven’t told me where there is.”

“And you still won’t get me to.”

A breeze whistled through the trees and Aelin was suddenly glad Rowan had insisted on bringing their hats and gloves. It also helped that she had a veritable wall of muscle at her back shielding her from the worst of the chill.

“Can you at least promise me,” she tried again, hoping to get some answer, “that whatever this is will be better than that Halloween party we were invited to?”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

She did too. “Because, you know, if we’d gone to that, I wouldn’t be bundled up in all these layers,” she reached forward and twirled her gloves around, “I would be wearing that queen costume I showed you.”

Rowan’s foot caught on a branch and Aelin held in a laugh. He squeezed her waist again and cleared his throat before asking, his voice rougher than it had been a second ago, “The one with the thigh-high stockings?”

She nodded. “The one with the thigh-high stockings.”

As the seconds stretched out in silence, Aelin grinned.

At some point they walked out of the woods, Aelin felt the damp soil turn into hard asphalt, and the constant feeling of being surrounded by trees disappeared. And then Rowan was leading her up some stairs and she was trying to figure out how one minute she was walking through the woods and the next she was in…a house?

It wasn’t much longer before Rowan pulled her to a stop and then his fingers rose to the back of her head to untie the blindfold. As she blinked, he leaned forward, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Why don’t you take a look and see for yourself.”

It took her a second to get her bearings. They were in a house, one that wasn’t familiar, but even if she knew where they were, the room she was standing in would’ve been unrecognizable.

A large sheet was hung up on one wall bracketed by small strands of lights dangling off the sides. A sofa sat in the middle of the room, but instead of holding a couple of pillows, it was being used as structural support for the blankets that were lofted over the back and pulled taught to create a fort on the floor in front of it. A small projector sat on a side table aimed at the sheet. And, as she slowly walked towards the front of the fort, she saw all the blankets, pillows, and bags of candy and chips laid out.

“What…” she was speechless as she slowly turned towards Rowan who looked beyond pleased with himself. “I don’t…”

Stepping around her, Rowan pressed a button on the projector and suddenly it flickered to life as the sheet now showed the title card to Friday the 13th. The smirk on his face was the definition of smug.

“Seriously – Rowan, are we…?”

“Are we…” he urged her to finish her thought as his smirk grew wider. When she continued to look at him in disbelief, he stepped closer and some of his smugness turned softer. “In the supposedly haunted house on the outskirts of the Orynthian woods?”

Her brows flew up as she nodded along. “I have so many questions…but my first is,” she jerked her chin towards the piles of food, “are there Twizzlers in there?”

Rowan barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Twizzlers? Do you think I don’t know you? It’s stocked with Red Vines, you menace.”

“Of course, I never should have doubted you.” Aelin couldn’t contain her smile if she tried. “So, this…”

“This,” he laughed, “Right. The haunted house? Not haunted. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” she echoed, grinning.

“Just abandoned, and recently put on the market by some family member of the people who used to live here. The listing went to Enda’s firm, and he’s been showing it for a few weeks. Believe it or not, not many people want to live this far into the forest.”

“Shocking.”

“I know.”

Aelin poked his chest before sliding her hands up around his neck. The grin she wore softened at the edges and fell into a fond smile which she hoped conveyed how much she appreciated this whole gesture.

“Anyways,” he went on as his arms twined around her waist to pull her flush against him. “I convinced my dear cousin to me borrow it for the night, so long as I promised to keep it decently clean.”

Realization hit her and had her beaming again. “So you mean—”

“That you won’t get your Halloween murder, but you’re about to spend a night in a ‘haunted’ house.”

“On Halloween.”

“On Halloween.” He confirmed, once again looking downright smug. She had to give it to him, Rowan really outdid himself with this one.

Pulling back to look him better in the eye, she arched a brow. “Okay, but how did you manage this whole setup?”

She stepped out of his embrace and kneeled down in front of the fort to take in the orange blankets and pumpkin pillows. When she glanced back up, Rowan was leaning against the side table, his arms crossed, still overly pleased with catching her off guard.

The tips of his ears flushed red as he said, “I have my ways.”

Aelin wasted no more time, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the fort with her. They situated themselves amongst the blankets, leaning their backs against the sofa. Rowan draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as she curled her arm over his middle and rested her head on his chest. The movie started up just as she was opening a pack of Red Vines and stretching one up to feed to her boyfriend.

“I won’t underestimate your surprises again,” she promised. “This is perfect. Happy Halloween, Buzzard.”

He laughed, “Happy Halloween, Fireheart.”

Aelin tilted her face up and leaned in to kiss him, but right as she was about to connect her lips with his, a low, drawn-out creaking sound echoed through the dark hallways of the house. She pulled back with a hand on his chest and glanced toward the sound. The creaking sounded again.

“Ooh, nice special effects,” she commended, too focused on listening to realize Rowan’s body had gone stiff next to hers. Finding his gaze, she was confused to see his green eyes widen in alarm.

“That wasn’t me.”

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @rowaelinrambling @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @elentiyawhitethorn @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites @maastrash @annejulianneh111 @the-lonelybarricade

#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #aelin #Rowan #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #aelin and rowan #rowan and aelin #aelin galathynius x rowan whitethorn #rowaelin oneshot #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fluff #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #tog #halloween fics #halloween prompts #Halloween

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thegreyj · 2 years

Text

A simple drink

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEIA! 🥳 @leiawritesstories

May your birthday be amazing and incredible and full of magnificent stories!

Here's a little Rowaelin oneshot for you!

A simple drink

It had been one of those days where everything seemed to go wrong. The morning had started off fairly well, but when Rowan was picking up his usual coffee order, someone had crashed into him making his cup fly and spill its contents right on Rowan’s shirt. Of course he had to run back home and change. His apartment was on the opposite way from the coffee shop, so this detour made him quite remarkably late for work.

At the office Rowan had first managed to break the scanner while trying to get an important signed document copied. He tried to turn the machine off and on again, knowing that would be the first instruction their tech help would give him, but somehow that small, common function managed to mess up the settings of the machine. Rowan found himself staring at the tiny touch screen which displayed something that could very well be hieroglyphs to him.

His day of hell was just beginning. He’d been working on a presentation for months, knowing they were supposed to receive foreign visitors from a partner company that day. His boss Maeve was supposed to go over the presentation before actually presenting it to their guests, but the email attachment wouldn’t work and his boss couldn’t get it to open. Rowan then decided to just simply transfer it to a thumb drive and give it to Maeve. Somehow the entire presentation then vanished, making Rowan panic.

His boss was not happy, which was how Rowan had ended up improvising a speech to the group of visitors. There was just one major problem with that; Rowan was not good with words, strange people or performing, so he pretty much tanked the entire speech. Trying to save the last remnants of his dignity, he tried to leave the conference room quietly. Only to end up face flat on the floor with the coffee cart on its side and the snacks rolling all over the hallway. The snacks that were meant for their visitors.

With the day not even halfway through, Rowan was completely done with the day. He just wanted to go for a nice, calm drink before going home and forgetting about the horrible day. Luckily the rest of his work went by without any major issues, only a couple of scheduling issues. And a virus on his office computer, which had been attached to an email sent by his friend and colleague, Fenrys, who just wanted to improve his friend's mood. Rowan did not find the dancing, multiplying penises on his desktop funny. In fact, he was mortified when he - once again - had to call the tech help department to come get rid of the virus.

Fenrys seemed to realise his mistake, and wanted to make it up by offering Rowan a drink after work. They made plans to meet up at their favorite bar once they had had a chance to change out of the stuffy work clothes and into something more fitting. Nothing could go wrong with going out for a simple drink, right?

Oh, how wrong Rowan was. Going out was not a bad thing in itself; what made it a bad thing was the fact that he was now accidentally crashing a private birthday party. Rowan did not like surprising situations or meeting with new people - strangers made him nervous - so this was practically a nightmare for him. Right from the moment he stepped inside the bar with Fenrys, they had been pulled along, party hats strapped on both of their heads and some disgusting colorful shots handed to them. Fenrys happily threw his shot down his throat, but Rowan just stared at the purple concoction with a frown, before stating that it looked unfit for human consumption.

Of course his night of horror didn’t end there; how he ended up helping the birthday girl blow out the candles was a complete mystery to him as well. One minute he was trying to remove his party hat, the next a random leggy blonde was pulling him towards the middle of the pile of people, screaming it was time for cake. Keeping his hand in hers, she stood behind the cake singing the birthday song along with everyone else, before saying make a wish and blowing out the small flickering flames. Rowan was getting more and more confused, but not wanting to make a big deal out of himself, he decided to play along until he could leave.

Finally finding the perfect time to detach himself from the party group, Rowan ordered a whiskey from the bartender before successfully hiding himself in a dark corner where he could still see everyone around. He was exhausted after being so social, and he had been waiting for this glass of whiskey for the entire day. It was just him and the golden brown drink in front of him, with the party sounds still going strong in the background.

“I thought the birthday hero is supposed to be at the party instead of hiding from the guests,” a voice interrupted Rowan’s thoughts. Lifting his gaze up, he noticed the same leggy blonde who had pulled him along to the main part of a birthday celebration. Rowan quirked a brow before responding.

“I did not force you to leave your party, did I? I just wanted to enjoy a nice glass of whiskey.”

“Wait- what? My party? I thought-,” the woman in front of him scrunched up her face. “I thought we were celebrating your birthday.”

“No, I’m pretty sure my friend and I crashed your birthday celebration,” Rowan let out a small laugh.

“Okay, so, wait- if it isn’t your birthday, and it definitely isn’t mine… then… did we just hijack someone’s birthday celebration? I totally thought it was your party and I tried to get you to blow out the candles. Oh my gods, this is hilarious and also now I understand why you stood there so awkwardly. I’m sorry,” the blonde burst out laughing. Rowan couldn’t help but join in - this was definitely an unexpected turn of events.

“Maybe we should get out before they realise what happened and who stole the thunder from someone else,” the woman suggested and for the first time in his life, Rowan didn’t feel awkward with a stranger, so he found himself nodding before throwing a few bills on the table. Getting up, they walked to the coat room and ever the gentleman, he helped the blonde put on her coat.

“Oh, by the way, my name is Aelin. Thought it would be nice to introduce myself to my partner-in-crime,” she said when they were outside.

“Rowan. Can’t say it was a pleasure to be involved in such a horrendous crime, but I did enjoy meeting you,” Rowan flirted, much to the amusement of Aelin, who let out a loud and melodious laugh at his comment.

“Well, Rowan, are you ready for an adventure? I’m assuming you’re available for some more criminal acts, we can’t just leave it on stealing some stranger’s birthday wish,” Aelin asked with a mischievous tone and a smile that told him she was up to no good.

“Under normal circumstances, I might be tempted to say no. However, this day has already been so weird, I don’t think there’s anything that could possibly make it any worse,” Rowan stated, not yet aware just how much his night was about to change. The smirk he had in response made him wonder if he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life, or perhaps the best decision by going along with whatever Aelin was planning.

Tags: @rowanaelinn @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @leiawritesstories @aelinchocolatelover @backtobl4ck @wesupremeginger @goddess-aelin @hiimheresworld @swankii-art-teacher

#happy birthday Leia #all the best for you #rowaelin oneshot #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass fanfiction #tog fic #rowaelin fanfiction #tog fanfic #throne of glass #my writing #aelin galathynius

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mariaofdoranelle · 3 months

Text

Catastrophic Blues

Written for @sjmromanceweek

Prompt: Favorite tropes (exes to lovers yay!)

I wrote most of this oneshot a year ago, and I never posted because it’s so sad, and also it’s the only time I fully trauma dumped on my fics. Anyway. Enjoy this thing that was based on one of the most pathetic days of my life lol

Warnings: none?

Words: 2,2k

The low lighting the uber had at night only called more attention to the cold, churning mess that was Aelin’s stomach. It was the lack of something to focus on when what she needs right now is sensory overload. The smell of alcohol, loud music, strobe lights.

Aelin wanted to focus on anything that wasn’t her destination—or who she’d meet there.

It was fine. She was fine.

It was Fenrys' birthday. The cheeriest of Aelin's cheery friends. Aelin definitely couldn't miss his birthday. Today was about Fenrys, and not the ex-boyfriend who was also invited.

But Aelin was fine. It wasn't a big deal. It’d been more than a month since they broke up, and Rowan even texted her asking if she’d be comfortable if he brought his new girl tonight.

How considerate of him.

But Aelin agreed, with no regrets. The only thing she regretted was merging her group of friends with her ex-boyfriend when they were dating. That was something she’d keep in mind for the next time she met someone.

Out of the car and in front of the bar, Aelin let the cool summer breeze wash her nerves away. He was probably in there already, always on time. She knew this would eventually happen when they broke up and decided to stay friends for the sake of the gang. There was no need for her to freak out—good thing she wasn't. And if she acted weirdly today, what would Rowan do a month from now?

The crowded place was booming with laughter and drunken yells, busy waiters running around the place, barely paying attention to the graceless group of friends singing Bohemian Rhapsody at karaoke.

A large hand gripped her waist, turning her towards the source, and Aelin met a smiling pair of onyx eyes.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

“Fen!” She hugged her friend and handed him his present, wishing him a happy birthday.

“Everyone’s at a big table back there, and…” Fenrys trailed, trying to read something on Aelin’s expression. Whatever words he was about to say died in his throat.

Aelin crossed her arms. “Spill.”

He shrugged. “You’re hotter than her.”

Lyria, he meant. And Aelin agreed, she was definitely hotter. It wasn’t hard to find Rowan’s new girl on Instagram after she commented a red heart on his last picture like a dog peeing on the comment section for territory. She found out about it even before he told her himself.

Aelin narrowed her eyes at Fen. “I’m over him.”

He shrugged. “Just thought you’d like to hear it.”

Her smirk was met with a similar one from Fenrys. He knows her too well.

Then Aelin shook her head, chastising herself for such thoughts. She was the one to end things, due to her… distressing circumstances. She had no right to shame Rowan for settling for a less hot person.

It’s not like she cared, anyway.

Stepping onto the back of the bar, Aelin quickly spotted the table and greeted everyone—including the lovebirds.

Rowan was stiff like a robot, and Lyria was polite. Bland. Guess he lied when he said he liked Aelin’s fiery personality and the way they clashed, since his new girlfriend is the total opposite. He’d probably still be his dutiful self to her in a month, and Aelin would be in Suria with rows of men—or vodka, most likely—lying at her feet.

She sat beside Elide and ordered a non-alcoholic beer—the doctor had cleared her to drink alcohol with moderation by now, but she didn’t want to risk it. Connall decided to restart whatever work gossip he was telling to keep Aelin in the loop.

She was paying attention, or at least she was trying to, but—why did Rowan shave off his beard? God, she loved his jawline. How it looked so firm by far, but felt so soft under her lips and teeth. Aelin could still remember how his beard tickled against her skin when he decided to grow it, or even better, the feeling of it against her thighs when he--

"Ace, are you alright?" Elide whispered in her ear, "You look a little lost."

Aelin blinked, trying to focus on her friends. Apart from Ellie, no one noticed she'd zoned out. Looking back at her friend, Aelin nodded, a small smile on her lips.

Her friend arched one eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Rolling her eyes, Aelin chuckled. "Of course."

Looking back at everyone, she caught Rowan’s eyes on her. Busted, the only thing left for him to do was send her a small, close-lipped smile and tip his head to the Heineken 0.0% she clutched. Aelin raised it and took a long swig, letting the bitter beverage go down throat, the feeling so close to the real thing.

He feels proud of her growth. Not a big deal when he keeps a perky brunette under his arm.

But she knew this feeling was just an initial clash of their lives apart. Aelin was fine, she truly was. Her feelings towards Rowan would never be the same she had to a regular friend, because the nature of their memories together was different. Erasing their history was impossible, so it was either fully leave or learn how to live in the shadows of what they used to be.

This hollowness she felt in her chest was just an initial shock, an adjustment. Aelin wasn't the only person in the world to lose the love of her life, and some of them even did great after that, with their second-best significant ones.

No one can keep every good thing that happens in their life forever. Even if said good best thing is right there, standing in front of you.

Actually, she was wrong. Aelin did keep Rowan in her life. As a friend. Which was enough, and just what she needed.

“…Right, Ace?”

Aelin blinked, being dragged out of her thoughts back into the conversation. “Excuse me?”

Elide sighed. “The birthday cake, Fenrys got it from Emrys’. Isn’t that the place you recommended to him?”

“Oh.” Aelin blinked. “Yes. Absolutely, yes. They’re the best.”

Ellie gave her a quick look that was hard to decipher, but maybe it was time for Aelin to pay attention.

And pay attention she did. She leaned on the table and held her chin under her palm. Turns out the owners of Emrys’ are regulars at the motel Fenrys works at. Disgusting news to hear, and Connall agreed with her unshared thoughts. Fenrys accused his brother of being homophobic, since they’re talking about a gay couple. Connall retorted, saying that he can’t be homophobic if he’s gay, and it’s not prejudice if he hates everyone equally.

The twins bickered on and on. Rowan watched them as if it was a tennis match, with undiluted attention, while Lyria seemed endlessly amused by it.

Aelin wished she had stayed home.

But she came here for Fenrys, and for Fenrys she stayed. And stayed and stayed and stayed until that fucking song started playing. For Mala’s sake, today was not her day.

Aelin looked around, trying not to be too obvious that she was looking at them. Trying not to look too much or too little.

He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel, the other on my heart.

Rowan took Lyria's hand and held it against his chest.

Just like he used to do with her.

Aelin swallowed, her chest shrinking. She was going to be sick.

She excused herself and got up, walking to another section of the bar near the restrooms where she couldn't be seen from the table, and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes.

Breathe in.

She could still feel the shape of Rowan’s lips against hers.

Breathe out.

She could still feel the weight of his body above hers.

Breathe in.

She could still feel his calloused hands caressing her bare back in bed.

Breathe out.

Her heart was beating just as much as on the day she finally got the courage to cuddle him after sex, almost two years ago. When she first rested her head on the crook of his neck, Aelin scented her favorite version of Rowan’s smell because it was completely ingrained with hers. And she did it again. And again. And again. Her hand could trace the shape of him even that long after the last time they were together. She hated how much she'd cling to those small details, and she hated even more that she cared about this. Because she did. Aelin would barely admit it to herself, but of course she did.

She took a deep breath, ignored her quivering stomach and schooled herself, walking to the bar's counter.

The man next to her leaned on the counter so much he was half laid in it, but he still managed to turn his piercing blue eyes at Aelin and smile.

"Can’t find a bartender," he complained, his speech slurred. "I need a beer."

Aelin chuckled, leaning her forearms on the surface too. "And I need water."

He raised his head a little. "I'm Dorian."

"Aelin." She looked at him up and down, from the fumbled hair to the rumpled clothes and untied shoes. “Are you sure the bartenders aren’t bartending you on purpose?”

“I’m sure they are.”

“Huh.” Aelin scanned the liquor selection, tempted. She really was doing better with this new medication, and Dr. Hafiza cleared her for an occasional drink. She could definitely use a drink now. Instead, she tilted her head at Dorian and said, “Did you lose a puppy or something? Or this is just your usual Friday night?”

He ran a hand through his hair and grinned at her, so confident it reminded her of Fenrys. "My answer depends on whether you're giving me your number or not."

Aelin snorted. She thought of how satisfying it would be to watch Rowan watch her leave the bar with someone else, but a drunk wouldn't do. Besides, this wasn't a competition. Aelin had already lost.

"Not a chance. Spill."

He sighed and slumped again on the countertop, hitting his head against it.

"My situationship doesn't see me as dating material."

Aelin grimaced. "That sucks"

He waved a hand, dismissing her pity. "You?"

Her mind went back to a year ago, how he stood by her side, red-rimmed green eyes when Aelin became a shell of herself. How his anxiety skyrocketed when hers did too. How well he was doing now that she wasn't his problem anymore.

A bitter chuckle left her lips. "My sadness is contagious."

Dorian rolled his eyes. “I just bared my soul to you, and this is what you tell me?”

“You did not!”

“I’m gonna get another drink if you don’t entertain me.”

“Is this a threat?”

“Absolutely, yes.”

Aelin sighed, looking up while she gathered her thoughts. “I broke up with my boyfriend.”

“Obviously.”

“Because I was bringing him down. No drama. We decided to not break up our group of friends.”

“No drama, you said?”

“He’s with his new girlfriend at the back of the bar and all my friends are schmoozing with her now.”

“I sense drama.”

“And we have a trip booked for next month we didn’t discuss.”

“Paid it all before the breakup, huh?”

Aelin nodded and ordered two waters before they traded stories about their pathetic love lives. She didn’t know how long they stayed there, neither if she liked Dorian or just this escape from the table from hell, but being here was a respite.

They were about six Tinder horror stories in when a hand landed on Aelin’s shoulder, making her jump, heart racing with surprise.

Rowan stood beside her with his trademark frown. “It’s been a while since you left the table.”

“Yup.” What was she supposed to say?

He jutted his chin towards Dorian. “Is he bothering you?”

“Not at all.” She squared her shoulders, trying to find a light way to describe their pity party. “This is Dorian. I’m getting funny dating stories out of him before I call an uber and send him back to his world of heartless women and tawdry men.”

“I see,” he trailed, eyes trained on them, and took a step back. “Okay. I have to go back there, but if you—“

“I know.” She waved him off. He needed to be at the table and be a good boyfriend to someone else, she got it.

Aelin was fully aware that her mind was going on a petty path, but she couldn’t help it. Yes, Lyria was nice. Yes, Lyria had been nothing but polite to her the entire night. The only problem was that Lyria was dating the wrong person. Or the perfect one, if Aelin wanted to address her issues more directly.

She banged her head against the disgusting counter, resting there to contemplate this rare moment of self-pity.

Aelin dug her own grave.

Dorian had his eyebrows raised. “Damn, he’s hot.”

“And thoughtful.”

“I wasn’t thinking about his thoughtfulness when he murdered me with his eyes.”

“He did not.”

“He did. And you know why.”

“I do not.” Aelin sipped her water. “Anyway, what happened to the guy who was cheating on his wife with you?”

Dorian’s eyes sparkled with the memory of this unfinished divorce story, and she was thankful to get the spotlight of the conversation away from her.

Unlike Aelin, Rowan had his shit together and was happy. She wouldn't—actually, she couldn't—disturb this little peace he found after she cut him off.

Her selfishness only went so far.

Read part 2 here

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

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@bookcide

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#rowaelin #throne of glass #oneshot #sjmromanceweek2024 #sjmromanceweek #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic

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theladyofdeath · 1 year

Note

could you maybe do a holiday prompt which involves someone getting drunk at the holiday party lol

Ship: Rowaelin // Rowan x Aelin A/N: Ugh, I just adore it when someone gets awkwardly drunk. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the prompt! x T/W: Drunkenness, language

Rowan hated Christmas music.

White Christmas had been playing for what felt like forever. It was not a party song, not in the slightest; and yet, here it was...playing at a party. It made the night he had been dreading drag on even longer.

He felt like he'd been there for at least an hour.

It had only been ten minutes.

Although not his dream job by any means, Rowan didn't hate his job. He went in every morning, got his shit done, and went home in peace. The majority of his coworkers, however, were not who he considered people that he would be hanging out with outside of the office. Most of them were over thirty years his senior, and most of the others thought they were hot shit considering they made almost triple digits a year.

There was only one face he was excited to see on the daily, but she had yet to arrive.

The hotel that was hosting their annual company Christmas party was beautiful. It was old, one of the oldest buildings in Orynth and had been revamped just enough to keep it thriving. The original copper ceilings still hung above him and a crystal chandelier glittered in the strung Christmas lights. The room they were currently in had surely once been one of the many ballrooms, but it had been transformed into a restaurant with a dance floor.

Rowan sat at the bar.

Alone.

Glancing down at his half-empty glass, Rowan thought of everywhere else he could be. He could be at Lorcan's, also getting drunk but at least getting drunk with someone he liked....and downing drinks that were cheaper than ten dollars a glass. He could also be with Fenrys, or Vaughan, or Gavriel, or Connall, or at home by himself, enjoying the silence and doing whatever the hell he wanted.

Maybe it was the fact that the party was mandatory. Maybe that's what pissed him off. If he had the option to come, he probably would have come anyway, but at least he'd have the freedom to do so.

Damn, where was she?

Rowan finished his drink and ordered another. By the time an hour had actually passed, Rowan had a line of empty glasses in his past and his toes were feeling funny. Light. Tingly.

This time when he ordered another one, the bartender paused. "You're not driving home, right?"

Rowan snorted - a snort that he felt went on a little too long. "I- I live in the city. Of course I'm not driving."

It was obvious.

No one drove in the city. Rowan did have a car, but it sat in the parking garage until he left the city limits. He wouldn't dare drive himself if he was going anywhere within city limits. Parking was a bitch. And too costly.

Why pay for parking when you're already paying for drinks?

A taxi was cheaper for the mile back to his apartment.

Rowan ordered another glass.

And that's when she walked in.

Aelin Galathynius, the only woman that worked in his office that was under the age of sixty, strode into the room like she owned the place. Her golden hair was unbound and the dark green dress that she had donned was far too scandalous for their regular nine to five.

Gods, she was gorgeous.

She was always beautiful, no matter what she wore, no matter what day it was. At first, Rowan couldn't stand her. She was too stubborn and that mouth of hers? He had never heard such a loose tongue. The same reasons he had hated her were now the same reasons that he now couldn't stop thinking about her. Every day, especially on those days that he dreaded sitting in his cubicle, she's what got him out of bed and behind his computer.

She spotted him and grinned, ruby lips twisting as her blue eyes lit up. After saying hello to a few of their coworkers, she was walking in his direction, hips swaying.

Rowan took a sip of his drink.

"Hey stranger," she said, grinning as she slid onto the stool next to him. He couldn't help but watch as she crossed her long, smooth legs. "How many do I have to drink to catch up?"

For a second, Rowan forgot how to think. Then, he said, "No idea. Ten? Maybe?" Even as the words came out, he felt his body sway.

Aelin chuckled. "You're gonna spend half your paycheck before you leave this place. It's ridiculous that they don't pay for an open bar. Seriously, they own our souls, the least they can do is get us drunk enough to enjoy ourselves at this thing."

Rowan grinned, taking another hearty sip. "But then we probably wouldn't get our Christmas bonus, and that's the only reason we all stick through the shit every year."

Aelin huffed a laugh. "Fair enough." She ordered a martini. "So, are you doing your usual? Staying for two hours so that the boss knows you've been here and socialized, then ducking out?"

Rowan thought on it for a moment. "Depends, I guess."

Aelin arched a brow. "On?"

"If I decide that there's a reason to stay any longer," he said, eyes drifting to hers. There was always a sense of mischief lingering in those eyes of hers. It drove him wild.

"I see," she crooned, just as her martini arrived. Her lipstick left its mark on the rim of the glass.

The two of them fell into a comfortable round of small talk. He asked about her day, she asked about his. Talking to Aelin was easy, it always had been, ever since Rowan decided that he no longer wanted her to shut up and leave him alone. It was effortless, their conversation, and five minutes quickly turned into ten, then twenty, then it had nearly been an hour since he had been sitting there, facing her.

"I hate this song," Aelin groaned, finishing off what was in her glass as Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas blasted through the speakers. "It haunts my nightmares."

Rowan hummed his agreement, sliding yet another empty glass to the other side of the bar. "We can go outside."

Aelin arched a brow. "It's snowing."

"Don't like being cold?"

"Does anyone?"

"I don't hate it as much as I hate this song."

Aelin chuckled. "Fine. Can you walk straight enough to make it to the sidewalk?"

Rowan nodded at her two empty glasses, even though she hadn't drank anywhere near what he had. "Can you?"

Aelin hopped off the bar stool and adjusted her skirt as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Come on."

The second Rowan's feet hit the ground, he was regretting every decision he had made that night. The room around him swayed and he had to grab onto the bartop to keep his footing. He was on the verge of cursing as a slim arm snaked around his waist.

"Come on," she said, perfectly amused. "Cold air will do you some good."

"I'm not that drunk," Rowan protested, tossing his arm around her shoulders.

"You didn't just hear how badly you slurred."

"I didn't slur."

"Oh, yes you did."

Rowan shook his head, but he knew she was right. Yet, he didn't care. Considering he and Aelin were walking out of the hotel with their arms around one another, Rowan didn't care about a thing.

As they stepped outside, snow was falling from the starlit sky in heaps. The flakes were so thick that he couldn't see to the other side of the street.

But he could see Aelin in perfect clarity.

"It feels good out here," Rowan muttered, closing his eyes. Aelin grunted as his full weight hit her. He hadn't realized that their arms were still around one another until he opened his eyes again and looked down to find Aelin already watching him. "I promise I'm not that drunk."

"Liar," she said, grinning. She leaned into him. "We've known each other for a while now."

"We have," Rowan agreed. "A few years."

Aelin nodded. "And, over those few years, we've flirted quite a bit."

A choking noise came out of Rowan. "Flirted?"

"Yeah, flirted."

"I guess we have," Rowan said, the world around him hazy and unsteady. "A few times, maybe."

"And yet you've never asked me out."

Rowan blinked, slow and drunkenly, as Aelin looked up at him curiously. "I've never asked you out?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure I would have remembered if you had."

"Do you want me to ask you out?"

Aelin's arm around his waist tightened. Her body was warm up against his. "I thought I've made that obvious."

"I've never been great at picking up hints," Rowan confessed.

"Obviously." Her laughter rose above the noises of the city street. Streetcars passed by quickly and people who were enjoying the city lights and Christmas decorations walked by, hand in hand, in awe.

"So, do you wanna-"

"No."

"No?"

"Don't ask me."

Rowan fumbled for his words. "I thought you wanted..."

"Not while you're drunk," she said, her lips twisted in the smallest of smiles. "Ask me when you're sober."

At some point, Aelin must have signaled for a taxi because one pulled up to the curb and she led him to the back door.

"Your two hours are up," she said, lightly, and opened the door before dropping her arm from his waist, at last. "Better go home and sleep it off."

Rowan plopped into the backseat of the taxi, nearly falling over in the process. "But-"

"I had fun tonight," she said, and even though he was drunk off his ass, Rowan knew that she meant it. It was because of that that he put on his seatbelt and let Aelin close the door.

He rolled down his window. "I'll call you when I'm sober?"

"I can't wait," she promised, just as the taxi pulled away from the curb and into traffic.

First thing in the morning, when his head is pounding and he's regretting every drink he had, he'd call.

#rowaelin #rowan #aelin #tog #throne of glass #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #oneshot #drabble #prompt #christmas prompts #christmas fics #sjm #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #tara answers prompts #christmas 2022

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highqueenofelfhame · 2 years

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a/n: my god, i have been working on this literally for a year. or, at least sitting on it since all too well tmv came out. as soon as i heard it, i knew i wanted to turn my two illicit affairs drabbles into a full story that has been dancing in the forefront of my mind since my first listen. this is the illicit affairs story. it was initially meant to be a oneshot, but it's getting so long i've been advised to split it up into parts. this is part one. i hope you enjoy. please please please reblog this so others can see it. i've been working so goddamn hard on it and if it flops i will be so sad lol. ok ok ok enough from me, on with the show.

rowaelin // 14,994 words // all too well playlist // masterlist

The buzzing of voices filled the bar like a large swarm of bumblebees occupying the space. Friday nights tended to be rather crowded and full of an eclectic group of people that fought over the old jukebox in the back corner of the main room. The patrons ranged from college students to working professionals, all of them sipping their preferred poison while swapping stories of their days and sharing the gossip of the moment. A few swayed to the music on the tiny dance floor, laughing with friends and speaking loud enough to be heard over the crowded din.

Neon lights cast nearly ominous glows over every surface. It would have a much colder vibe if it weren’t for the warmth of the Edison bulbs dangling from the ceiling. In the end it created a lovely atmosphere to decompress after a long week, and that was precisely why the Staghorn was so cherished amongst the locals. It looked more like a dive bar on the outside, but the inside was well cared for and loved by everyone who lived in Orynth. It was usually tourist-free, and while most of the older crowd would prefer if the rowdy college students would choose somewhere else to gather, no one really complained about the company they might find sandwiched in its walls.

It was the week of Samhuinn, and there was no shortage of students running around campus in elaborate or silly costumes. In the back room that housed the pool table and dartboards, Aelin Galathynius was perched on a bar stool with a cocktail straw pinched between her teeth while her best friend gave her a rundown of the fashion crimes committed this week on campus. Her nose was still burning from the stream of gin that had come out of it when Lysandra went into painstakingly accurate detail of the too-small dinosaur onesie she had seen trekking across the courtyard Wednesday morning.

It was her brother’s turn with the darts, and, despite giggling her way through Lysandra’s story, Aelin’s eyes were razor focused on if Aedion’s aim would stay true or land slightly to the left like it often did. He was her true competitor in the game they were playing, and nobody else ever came close despite the full roster of names on the scoreboard below theirs.

Each Friday was essentially a night full of wagers amongst their friends for which of them would come out on top. Several regulars usually watched the two take their turns, the blunted edge of the dart finding its home in or very close to the bullseye with every throw. Aedion and Aelin held the top two spots, though a third had appeared a few days ago that was dangerously close to knocking Aedion out of his second-place spot. Tiny tally marks noted who had won how many games in any available space between letters, and numbers indicated their highest scores. While her brother boasted the most wins, Aelin was more than proud to gush about having the highest score. It drove Aedion to near madness, made even worse by Aelin creeping up to steal the victory of most games won by him, too.

Seldom were other names present on their chalkboard, but a few had managed to take a permanent spot with them in the last few weeks. She knew that if Aedion lost that second-place spot, all hell would break loose, and the will to keep competing against his sister would go down the toilet while he sulked into a pitcher of beer for an evening.

Ace Ashryver Bitchthorn Salvaterre Fen

That was the list of names shaded in red from the sign above, Bitchthorn, making her laugh the most, considering she was pretty sure it had said Whitethorn at one point or another.

“Fuck,” Aedion groaned, stalking to retrieve his darts almost before Aelin even had time to process what a shitty throw he’d made.

“Are you even trying?” Aelin placed her drink on the table beside her, ice clinking melodically in the glass. “At this rate, whoever Bitchthorn is will take your second-place ranking, and you’ll be down to third place. How does that feel, big brother?”

“For that comment, I am only claiming you as a cousin.”

“I’m going to tell mom that you said that,” she teased while snagging her own darts from their placeholders on the wall. She wouldn’t; they both knew that. When Aedion’s mother died in childbirth, and his father died when he was three while on a deployment in the Wastes, it had stayed a sore subject for just about everyone. There were times when they could joke about it and times they couldn’t. They never could to her mother. It made her feel like she’d failed her sister, Aerin, and the nephew-turned-son left to her charge.

“In that case, I hope Bitchthorn destroys us both because your ego clearly needs to be knocked down a couple of notches.”

Aelin was grinning widely at the taunts, standing with the tips of her toes just kissing the line from where she was meant to throw. She took her stance, legs shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, shoulders and arms loose and ready to fire. The dart was evenly weighted and cool between her fingertips as she rolled it back and forth, slowing her thoughts until the voices and music became nothing more than a dull buzz in her ears. Despite the alcohol coursing through her system, she only saw the red circle in the center of the board. Aelin threw the dart on an exhale, and it found its mark dead-center. The second dart notched just below the first but still inside the bullseye.

Just as she released the third, a hard body knocked into her and completely threw off her aim. Aedion howled as the dart embedded itself in the wall above the target while Aelin whipped around to scowl at the hulking brute that ruined her game. She was still leading on Aedion, but now he had more of a chance at redemption. She hadn’t even come close to hitting the board because of him.

This time, the muffled sounds of the bar had little to do with concentration and everything to do with anger. Much of it dissipated when she took in the face of the man whose hands were heavy on her shoulders to steady her from falling over. Gods above, he was beautiful.

“Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly, tucking a piece of golden hair behind his ear. His other hand dropped from her shoulder.

“Don’t be. I might actually get to win now,” Aedion shouted, his low chuckles still shaking his body. Lysandra backhanded his shoulder.

“She gets to throw again. That was interference.” Aelin turned toward the voice that said it, thankful that someone was going to be on her side. Her defense was the kind of man that she drooled over. Well over six feet tall and tattooed, he had one hand in his pocket while the other held a glass tumbler of something dark. Aelin guessed whiskey– it seemed to fit the bill based on appearance alone. If his rolling, lilting accent hadn’t done it for her, everything else about him really, really did.

Sure, the guy that had ruined her shot was easily the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life, but the one leaning against the table with piercing green eyes that she didn’t want to look away from was something… else. Golden boy was too perfect, whereas this one was more rugged. Chiseled by the gods, specifically chosen to drive her personally insane. The idea that she had ever thought she preferred men with brown hair seemed so unbelievably stupid as she stared at the man with silver hair and a smirk on his face. He had a single dimple on his cheek that seemed to be directed at her.

The returning smile she gave him was almost involuntary.

“I agree with Santa over here. It was definitely interference, and I get to throw again.” Aedion didn’t have anything to say to that but a low string of grumbled curses. It made Aelin’s grin widen while she retrieved her dart.

When she made eye contact with her personal savior, his brow quirked as if to say, Santa? Aelin simply shrugged as she took her stance back up, blocked out the new distraction behind her, and let the dart fly free.

Three bullseyes, her highest score yet. Now she just needed to try for a fourth of a different kind.

~*~

Despite how much Aelin didn’t care about Rowan being a gentleman, he was nothing short of one on their first date. They had just gone out for coffee, returning to his apartment soon after to continue their conversation. Neither of them had wanted to say goodbye even though the pair had sat in the coffee shop for four hours until they began to close down. So they had traded uncomfortable wooden chairs for Rowan’s oversized and extremely comfortable couch. The coffee turned to wine, Rowan at some point deciding to make them both dinner. Before either of them knew it, it was well past midnight and Aelin said she should probably get going.

She would have let him take her to his bedroom and ravage her wholly after the last several hours. It had been an achingly long time since she had found someone that she felt she could tell anything and everything to. Their conversation flowed so easily with no judgment coming from either side. Maybe the bar was on the floor in that aspect, but it had been rare that she found a partner so willing to accept her as she was. The need to pretend wasn’t weighing her down. She felt she could just… be.

Being early November, the air was sharp and cool. It had been two weeks since their first date and autumn leaves twirled toward the ground, crinkling and crunching beneath her boots. Every breath she took was crisp and rejuvenating. She loved this time of year; loved the sights and sounds and the energy that buzzed around her. The holidays were just around the corner, and she couldn’t be more excited for the coming weeks with her friends.

A warm and calloused hand caught hers, long fingers lacing with her own. Aelin looked over at Rowan, who wore a slight smile on his lips while they walked down the street toward his apartment. It had been two weeks since she had first met him at the bar and discovered that he was Bitchthorn in the flesh. His last name was really Whitethorn, but in a tantrum after being defeated, his friend Lorcan changed his name on the board. Aelin wasn’t a huge fan of Lorcan, but the story still made her snort when she thought about it.

“You’re staring,” Rowan said flatly, eyes shifting from the path ahead to meet her gaze. Aelin shrugged, tugging her hand free and leaning into his side as they walked. A content hum rose in her throat, something akin to a purr, when he draped his arm around her shoulder. She couldn’t help but inhale deeply, savoring the pine scent that always lingered on his skin and clothes. There was no way in hell that she would ever tell him, but she switched up her laundry detergent for the first time in years because she wanted to smell like him all the time and not just after she had been tangled up in his sheets.

It was only the third date they had been on, but she was struggling to imagine what her future would look like without him in it. Her stomach lurched, and her fingers twisted his shirt into her fist. There was only one other person she had felt like this with, yet her feelings for Rowan struck her harder and deeper than she’d ever felt with Sam. They weren’t exclusive, hadn’t even discussed what they were to the other yet, and Aelin’s mind was running wild with visions of what the years to come with Rowan would look like. For all she knew, this was just a fling for him.

She tried not to think about it.

It was easy not to when he peeled her jeans from her legs and tossed them into the corner of his room. Their kisses had quickly become frenzied, neither of them taking the time to even remove her shirt. Nothing but pleasure crossed her mind, save for his name as he moved over her, inside of her, pulling sighs and moans from her lips. His skin was marred with the shape of her mouth, red lipstick smudging down his abdomen and staining his white sheets. It certainly didn’t feel like a fling when she was on top of him with his fingers fisting her hair; foreheads pressed together as they tumbled over the edge together and he finished buried deep inside her.

After he cleaned her up, Rowan settled in bed beside her with a steaming mug of hot cocoa for her to sip, and it was bliss. As her head nestled into the soft spot between his neck and shoulder, the cup to her lips, Rowan said, “I want to know everything about you.”

“Like what?”

“Everything,” he repeated, tightening his grip around her body for emphasis.

“That’s a lot of ground to cover,” she joked, a comfortable silence settled over the pair while she enjoyed the drink he’d made her. After a few minutes, she held out the cup containing the last sip of sweet warmth she had saved for him. Despite telling her last week that he wasn’t big on sweets, he finished it and placed the mug on the nightstand beside him. “That goes both ways. I don’t even know what you do for a living.”

“I’m a professor. I’ll start teaching at the university next semester.” Aelin knew he was older than her. Ten years to be exact. But she’d never thought of him as old enough to be her professor.

Doing her best not to tense up, she traced her finger over the edge of the tattoo on his ribcage. The university, he’d said casually. Her eyes closed as she swallowed despite her mouth having gone dry.

“Like UT?” The University of Terrasen, where she was starting in January as a graduate student going for her master’s in art history. Ice cold flames had quickly licked up and down her body, leaving her trying to be casual as she wiped her hands against the sheets.

“One and the same,” he confirmed. She felt him nod with the words, and she made her own head bob up and down. “What do you do for work?”

“I work at an art gallery downtown, but I really want to get a job at the art museum when…” she almost said when she graduated, but she stopped herself. Physically biting her tongue, she paused for a moment before carefully finishing, “ – when the time is right. What is it that you teach?”

She hoped it was anything but art, but her heart plummeted through the floor when he answered, “Wendlyn art and architecture history. The current professor retires at the end of the semester, and I had glowing recommendations from Wendlyn. Helps that I’m a native.”

“You’re about to become the wet dream of so many young students,” she joked, having to peel her dry tongue from the roof of her mouth to answer.

“I’m about to become very hated by so many young students,” he amended, a low chuckle sending shivers down her spine. “I’ve been called, multiple times, a ‘stupid asshole’ for how hard I grade assignments. I tend to be unforgiving.”

“I’m most thankful to my hardest teachers and professors. I still hate them, don’t get me wrong.” They shared a laugh before she continued, “But not having them go easy on me helped me learn that not everything is meant to come easy. You have to work hard to get what you want. If you get it all handed to you, you don’t deserve it half as much as someone that worked their ass off for it. And it’s not as rewarding to have things handed to you. I would know.”

“Know how?”

“I grew up getting things just because my parents are who they are. My dad founded and is CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the world.” She could see the gears turning in his mind, trying to connect the dots of whose daughter she might be.. Except she had told him that her last name was Ashryver, commonly using it for school and work to avoid people crawling up her ass to get a recommendation from her father. Sometimes they wanted to pitch ideas, other times it was clout they sought after for one reason or another. “Galathynius Tech.”

“You said your last name was–”

“Ashryver. It is, technically. My parents forewent a middle name and shoved both their names together. But I use my mom’s for most things because I’m constantly having to fight off people that want to use me as nothing more than a connection and it got tiring. I was over it by sixth grade.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” Rowan leaned over to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I have no interest in technology, so nothing to worry about from me. I wouldn’t have a cell phone if I didn’t absolutely have to.”

“That’s a very aging statement, professor,” she teased. Warmth bloomed in her belly, using the title shooting a thrill through her body. It was probably a little fucked up that she got immediately hot, some deeply hidden fantasy stirring in her mind. The bite Rowan’s mouth formed against her skin told her his mind had gone to the same place.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“Will you settle for something I just don’t talk about?”

His lips were soft against her shoulder as he said, “Yes.”

It took her some time to be able to find the words. There were only a few people that truly knew what happened, and they only really knew because they’d been told by other people. To most, she was just in an accident. To others, they had more details. Outside of first responders, she hadn’t gone into detail about what happened. But with Rowan… for the first time since it happened, she wanted to.

“I was dating this guy named Sam. We were together for a little over a year and a half and on the weekend before my twenty-second birthday we’d been out drinking. Not Sam, he was the responsible one and he drove the two of us everywhere that I wanted to go. Up until we got into the car to go home it had been the most fun night. When I can separate what happened after with what happened before, it’s one of the best nights I’ve ever had. Just because it was all of my friends, all of us were drunk and so carefree and nothing mattered.”

Aelin paused, leaning forward to pull her shirt up to her shoulders, leaning forward so Rowan could see the scars down her back. There was a heavy, silent tension in the air as he ran his fingers over them so gently she felt her heart might break.

“On the way home, a drunk driver ran a red light and t-boned us on the driver's side. We started flipping, and because I’d been fussy and downright petulant about my seatbelt, I didn’t have it on properly. I was ejected on one of the rolls and slid down the road and earned a serious case of road rash. When I stopped, I hit my head so hard on a curb I couldn’t see straight for days. The only bit of peace I’ve ever been able to find was that they said Sam died on impact. I didn’t know he was dead and I started crawling toward the car, screaming for him. Glass and gravel was digging in my skin, I had cuts up and down my arms and legs and a huge gash on the side of my head. I don’t remember feeling any pain, though. I just remember crawling for him until I couldn’t move anymore. And then I woke up in the hospital.”

She shrugged at the end of her story, fingers picking at a loose piece of string on the blanket that covered her legs. Rowan’s fingers were heartbreakingly gentle against her back as he traced her scars, noting everywhere that gravel and glass had been embedded in her skin. With a shaky breath she added, “The survivor’s guilt ate me alive. Some days it still does.”

“When I was twenty-five, I lived with my girlfriend, Lyria,” Rowan said quietly, fingers still grazing her skin. “We used to go for runs every morning, but I’d been out late with everyone and didn’t want to go when she woke me up. So she went alone, which she’d done before so I wasn’t too worried about it. But the sun was barely out, and someone hit her with their fucking truck and left her there to bleed out on the side of the road. When they caught him, it was an older guy that swore up and down he didn’t see her. That he ran because he was just scared and confused.”

Aelin looked at him over her shoulder, extending her hand to take his. Rowan exhaled heavily, pulling her so she was snug in his arms with her head tucked beneath his chin as he quietly said, “She was pregnant. She hadn’t told me yet, but she was. I found out at the hospital.”

“So you understand,” she whispered against his chest, her lips nearly tracing the words against his skin. There would be no apologies to be mistaken for pity. They were just two souls laid bare for the other, confessing worst nightmares that had been made real. Two people that had suffered greatly but survived it and had managed to find each other.

“And so do you.”

Someone that could understand her ins and outs, that could understand her fears and worries. Maybe not exactly the same, but when people didn’t experience something the way the two of them had, there was no way to relate to it. Survivor’s guilt and the trauma of losing someone you loved was a difficult thing to match no matter how hard someone might try.

Rowan, though… he could understand the way she felt. He could understand the anxiety and fear that crept into her bones in the middle of the night, whispering awful things in her ear to keep her awake. And this revelation made the earlier admission that he would be her professor, that their relationship now had an expiration date on it even harder to bear.

But instead of admitting the truth then, she curled around his body and listened to the steady beat of his heart. She breathed in sync with him in long, slow intervals, hoping and praying to any god that would listen that maybe it wouldn’t have to crash and burn quite so soon.

~*~

Despite the anxious nerves that bubbled up in her body like a fresh glass of champagne, Aelin grinned widely while they drove up the winding mountainside. The windows of the rented SUV were rolled down despite the chill in the air, Aelin’s golden hair whipping around wildly while she wove her hand in and out of the wind. The fingers of her left hand were laced with Rowan’s on the center console. That little bit of contact alone seemed to warm her entire body.

Bright, unbridled laughter escaped her lips as Rowan began singing along to the song on the radio in a dramatic fashion. It was one from the eighties that she knew all the words to but couldn’t remember the title of to save her life, and soon their voices were twined together just like their fingers.

It was beautiful up here. Aelin had always loved the mountains, loved the sights and smells of pine and cool air. The trees that weren’t green year-round were losing their leaves. The forest floor was red and gold, bare branches reaching for the sky high above her head. Beautiful was the only word for it; she thought to herself as the song changed to something more modern.

Pulling her hand back into the car, she took to adjusting the green scarf around her neck. The closer they got to the little mountain town Rowan’s family lived in, the cooler it became. It took him no time to roll up the windows and adjust the heat as she pulled her scarf up to hide her icy, pink nose and cheeks. Despite getting colder, her heart and soul had never been warmer.

“We’re almost there,” he promised, pulling around the bend and driving into the little town where Aelin was starting to see the beginnings down the road.

“No complaints here.”

“You’re just nervous.” Teasing laughter pulled at the words, his hand sliding from hers down to her knee to squeeze. She swatted it away, looking at him like he’d said the most offensive thing she’d ever heard.

“I don’t get nervous!” She cried, the lie so blatant and obvious that they both started laughing.

“You don’t lie either, I suppose.” Rowan’s eyes slid from the road over her face, a silver brow raised in question.

“Not once in my li– Rowan!” Her hands went to brace the dash as he slammed on the brakes, very nearly running the red light in the center of downtown. The man beside her was on the receiving end of glares from people out and about that Saturday afternoon, a few horns honking behind him as they, too, came quickly to a halt to avoid ramming into him.

“I’m so sorry,” Rowan swore, reaching over to brush a piece of her hair that had caught on her lip in the fiasco. Instead of answering, Aelin started laughing again. He soon joined in with her, the two fighting off tears as the light changed to green, and he started back down the street. “Don’t do or say anything else cute. You nearly caused a car accident and got me a ticket.”

“Sure, sure. It’s my fault that you can’t keep your eyes off me for more than two minutes at a time.”

“Entirely. If you looked like a troll, I wouldn’t have such a hard time.”

“And here I thought you liked me for my personality,” she scoffed. Rowan lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her fingers, eyes staying glued to the street.

“You are the single person put on this earth to drive me absolutely insane. The complete package wrapped with such a pretty bow.” Aelin’s cheeks warmed at his words, her smile softening as she leaned over to kiss his cheek despite how hard her seatbelt tried to keep her in her seat.

It wasn’t long before they pulled into the driveway of a modest home nestled on a street a few blocks from downtown. After taking off her seatbelt, Aelin pulled down the mirror to fix her windswept hair, examining her face for the first time since leaving the airport bathroom. She went as far as to dig a small hairbrush out of her bag and detangle the golden strands, her nerves becoming more like a bottle of champagne ready to explode than a small, fizzy glass.

“You look perfect,” Rowan told her, turning her face toward his with his fingertips so he could lean over and give her a sweet kiss. “They are going to love you.”

“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled, loosening her scarf a bit as she reached for the door handle.

“Aelin. You have nothing to worry about. Nevermind that I haven’t brought anyone home to meet my mother since I was in college. You already have a high score for that alone.” Aelin couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled out of her or how his words seemed to ease the pressure in her chest. The statement even managed to wipe away any taste of jealousy of the other women Rowan had ever been with.

Not that it bothered her– she was more worried about not having the same life and relationship experience that he did rather than the women he’d dated or slept with. Rowan was ten years her senior, thirty-four to her twenty-four. He didn’t quite know her exact age yet, either. Not that she was hiding it from him. He knew she was in her twenties, but she had skated around it the first few weeks of them hanging out, and it simply hadn’t come back up in the time since.

Aelin inhaled deeply as she hopped out of the car, admiring the home as she shut the door behind her. Rowan pulled their duffel bags from the trunk, slinging them over one shoulder so he could offer her a hand to take. She did, gladly, following him up the steps and into the foyer of the house as he called out that they were home.

Home. It was exactly what this place felt like. Not home the same way her parent’s house was, but home in that it could be nothing else. It smelled like cinnamon, spice, and the fire that roared in the fireplace. Visions of Rowan young and playing video games on the dark green couch in the living room to their right took hold of Aelin’s mind. She could immediately see him crowding the kitchen island with his friends after a big sports game, the loud chatter of teenage boys filling the space.

It had such a warm and welcoming air to it that it was easy to imagine holidays spent at the dining room table or Rowan and his parents sitting around a Yulemas tree exchanging gifts. As she took a deep breath, she could smell the makings of dinner from the kitchen just as a woman about Aelin’s height rounded a corner with an apron tied around her lean frame.

“Oh, my goodness,” she said, bypassing her son entirely and coming to take both of Aelin’s hands in hers. Behind his mom, Rowan’s eyes softened while he winked at his new girlfriend. “Rowan, she is just beautiful. You didn’t do her justice.”

“I don’t think I could if I tried.” There was a gleam in his eye as he put their bags on the living room floor, with Aelin shaking her head like he was ridiculous. Because he was.

“Hi, Mrs. Whitethorn. It’s lovely to finally meet you,” Aelin said, a grin on her lips. She would be lying to everyone if she said she hadn’t rehearsed that line an embarrassing amount of times in her head.

“You will call me Ivy,” his mom said, dropping her hands to pull her into a warm embrace. Aelin returned the hug, thinking of how much it reminded her of the ones her own mother gave. “Your father is in the garage; go drag him inside. I have him pulling down the Yulemas decorations.”

“It isn’t even thanksgiving yet,” Rowan reminded her, shaking his head as she patted him on the cheek. Her hands dropped to her hips at the slight incredulity in his tone.

“Now, when has that ever stopped me?”

“It hasn’t,” he laughed, bending to press a kiss to her tanned skin. Rowan shrugged off his coat and hung it on a hook by the door before helping Aelin out of hers. She unwound the scarf from her neck and passed that off to him as well, watching as he situated them beside his before he kissed her forehead and vanished deeper into the house.

“Come, come. I’m working on dinner, but we’ll have some time to catch up without the men for a few minutes, at least. How was your flight?”

“Pretty good, actually. My mom is from Varese, and we go there most summers, so it’s not a trip I’m unfamiliar with.” They weren’t in Varese, about an hour’s drive south in a small mountain town called Mistward that Aelin had heard of but never been to. So far, she was in love with it, much like her mother had promised when she first told her of the trip to meet his family.

It was probably a little too soon for the meeting, but Rowan wasn’t going to go home again until Yulemas, and that wasn’t a holiday Aelin was ready to spend away from her family just yet. Rowan had a few things he wanted for his new apartment from his parent's house. The trip had quickly become about her meeting his family, despite only having been seeing each other for a month at most.

“You’re sure it’s not too soon for you to make a six-hour flight to meet your boyfriend’s parents?” He’d asked her one evening while they laid in a tangle of limbs on her couch.

“Oh, is that what you are? My boyfriend?” Aelin had tried to tease but was so thrilled about finally having a conversation about their relationship's status that they soon became a heap of tangled limbs and kisses.

Aelin lingered in the hall beside the kitchen while Rowan’s mother began asking her questions about her mother and the summers they spent in Wendlyn. Aelin’s replies came half distracted, her eyes caught on photos of Rowan’s life hanging on the walls. There were group photos of Rowan on his childhood and teenage sports teams, a photo of him in full football pads with his arms around the shoulders and waist of a boy and a girl that had matching silver hair, same as him. The one that almost elicited a giggle out of her was one of him as a boy with round, wire-framed glasses on his face and a wide, toothless grin to match.

“Darling, wasn’t he?” His mom asked, joining Aelin in the hall. “There’s plenty more where that came from, too.”

“I need to see all of those.”

“I’ll pull out the photo albums in the morning,” Ivy said with a wink, the two women heading back toward the kitchen. Aelin was hovering by the barstools by the island as the door to what she could only assume to be the garage opened, and Rowan walked back in. He was tailed by the vision of how Aelin imagined he would look in thirty years' time. An older, nearly as handsome man with the same silver hair.

“You must be Aelin,” his father said, approaching her. He was every bit as tall as his son, and she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. Aelin started to hold her hand out for him to shake when he laughed warmly and pulled her in for a hug. The severity of his face had made her think that perhaps he was more formal, but no. Matthias Whitethorn seemed every bit as soft and loving as his wife.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Rowan’s been going on and on about you the last month.” Ivy gushed, reaching out to squeeze her hands. Aelin’s heart swelled at how sweet the gesture was.

“Has he, now?” She looked to her boyfriend, who gently guided her to sit on a stool while he made his way to the coffee pot to make them both a cup. Settled with one leg crossed over the other, she propped her chin in her hand and gave his parents her full attention. The beginning of the conversation with his dad started out much like with his mom– he asked if the flight had been alright for her and took interest when she mentioned her mother being from Wendlyn as well. His parents volleyed questions back and forth, Aelin answering them all as Rowan placed a mug in front of her. Full of cream and sugar, just how she liked it. It earned him a smile, and a mouthed thank you between answers.

Dinner went off without a hitch, Ivy and Matthias sharing stories of Rowan as a child that had his cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. Aelin hadn’t laughed so much in a long time, learning about the silly things he’d said and done from the time he was in diapers. His father proudly showed her photos from his high school and college graduations, which turned the question onto her own education. Aelin licked her lips anxiously as she sat back in her seat, finding Rowan’s hand beneath the table.

“I graduated high school in Orynth, and I’ve never wanted to leave Terrasen for longer than a single adventure would take. So I went to the University of Terrasen in Orynth. Once I graduated with my bachelor’s in art history, I took a little over a year off to travel and see art all over the world. My parents have a lot of connections, so I met with some of the greatest living art historians in the world. And then I went back for my master’s.”

It wasn’t a total lie. Not really. She did return to Orynth for her master’s– she just hadn’t started yet. She would begin in January, the same semester Rowan was due to begin teaching. A teensy fact that Rowan didn’t quite know yet.

“Just like our Rowan. No wonder you’ve hit it off so well.” Ivy paused with a smile that Aelin had to force back onto her lips, “What do you do with those fancy degrees of yours?” His mother asked, finishing her last bite of dessert. Aelin paused to sip her water, trying to gather her answer in her head before she said it out loud.

“Right now, I work at an art gallery, but I want to work in museums. I’ll have to start at the bottom of the food chain, but I’m excited to start that part of my career. I’ll start sending out applications soon.” Aelin was starting to feel uncomfortable with how easy she was at giving half-truths and saving the whole of it for herself. She would begin sending out applications– but for internships until she finished up her degree in two years.

That response earned her a whole slew of new questions about art, what she loved about it, why she felt it was necessary. His parents really took the time to get to know her, whereas her last boyfriend’s family couldn’t have cared less about anything she did. To be fair, Chaol really only liked her as a trophy. As soon as the honeymoon phase died down and she started pushing back, he bailed. She still thanked the gods for that– she was so much better for it.

Still, having Rowan’s mom and dad’s undivided attention was new for her, and it was nice to say the least. They weren’t measuring her up to someone else, they didn’t criticize her career path no matter how rocky it could start out. The pair took the time to really understand where she was coming from and listened while she rambled through their last glasses of wine and while they cleaned the kitchen. Matthias would point out when she had thoughts that lined up with something Rowan had told him years ago, and Ivy loved how passionate she was about conserving art for future generations to enjoy. It was strange, how much she felt like she belonged here despite having met them mere hours ago.

She had to push that sinking feeling into a locked room deep inside her chest.

Soon after cleaning up for dinner, Aelin, Rowan, and his father were seated around the living room watching television when his mother dropped a stack of books on the coffee table. Ivy and Aelin shared a conspiratorial grin at the same time her boyfriend let out a low, displeased groan. The two women laughed as Aelin lowered herself to the floor, reaching for the book on top. It was made of stained, worn ivory fabric with edges covered in frilly lace. Aelin remembered Aedion’s baby book looking similar to this; her own had been pale pink but felt more like an actual book.

She flipped to the first page and saw Rowan’s full name– Rowan Matthias Whitethorn– his date of birth, his weight in pounds and ounces, and finally, his length in inches. Her fingers traced over the handwritten letters, pausing on the inked imprint of his bare baby feet near the bottom. The smile that appeared on her face was involuntary, and she spared him a look over his shoulder. The always stoic man she was quickly falling for had a flush from his neck up to the very tips of his ears. Choking back the laugh she desperately wanted to let loose, she reached behind and squeezed his knee.

“I am so excited about this.” Her voice was little more than a whisper and directed at Ivy, yet Rowan heard anyway, reaching out to tug on the ends of her hair. It was enough to get the laughter rushing out of her. Anything to make this man squirm was an excellent use of time in her eyes.

She wasn’t sure just how long they sat around the coffee table, Aelin flipping through every single page of the books while he and his parents offered stories and anecdotes of his life. There was even a high school yearbook that, according to Rowan, was the most mortifying of it all. He had been crowned prom king his senior year, but not because of popularity. His group of friends had badgered nearly everyone in the school into voting for him simply because they knew he would hate it. Rowan wasn’t big on attention; he didn’t even really celebrate his birthday for that very reason. In the photos of him dancing with the prom queen, his girlfriend at the time, the poor buzzard looked absolutely miserable.

Despite his embarrassment, Aelin loved hearing about his early life. Ivy made her laugh so hard that water nearly came out of her nose when she went on and on about just how hopeless he was with girls growing up. Something that he, apparently, hadn’t grown out of until he was in his third year of college. There were so many stories about failed dates, about his inability to express his emotions, about the poems he’d tried to write for pretty girls in middle school. He was no good at any of it, Rowan snatching an example from his mother’s hands before Aelin had the chance to read it. He’d ripped it up so quickly that tears of laughter had streamed down her face at the dramatics. It must have been truly terrible, then.

She was sitting with her back against the couch, head turned to look at Rowan and leaning against his legs for extra warmth when he began telling one of her favorite stories of the night. While he spun the tale, he dropped a blanket around her shoulders that she was quick to bundle her hands in while she listened eagerly.

“We hopped the fence, both of us running for the other side of the practice field that we could jump another fence to and make it out onto the street and off of school property,” Rowan was saying, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Later, we discovered that Vaughan had jumped into a dumpster to wait it out. Lorcan and Connall escaped because the cop chasing them was more out of shape. But there were, like, ten of them. We didn’t know where they were at any given moment. And by the time Fen and I started across the field, two of them were running at us from where we were headed. There was no time to stop or change course because there was nowhere to go.”

“So what did you do?”

“Fen was carrying the bag, right? Had it thrown over his shoulder. It was just a plain duffel bag, stuffed to the brim with mostly toilet paper and silly string. We weren’t trying to do anything totally illegal. But we did change the locks to all the gates–”

“Thanks to the keys he stole from me,” Matthias grumbled, but there was amusement in his eyes. Aelin doubted it had been all that funny when it happened, but now, so many years later, it seemed they could laugh about it.

“Right,” Rowan confirmed, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “So we’re running across the field, two cops are coming at us from the other side. We knew we were screwed, so I grabbed Fen’s arm, we both stopped, and I immediately raised my hands in the air. They had their guns drawn because we were trespassing and running from the police. We had a bag that they didn’t know the contents of. The five of us were all well over six feet and causing trouble. So my hands are in the air, Fen is holding onto this bag like he’s scared of them taking it, which is fucking hilarious considering there was nothing too damning in it.

“The cops start yelling what’s in the bag! Just over and over. Fenrys is shaking, fumbling to unzip the bag, which was just stupid, so I yanked it off his shoulder, threw it on the ground and as one of the cops reached down to unzip it, Fen just cries out It’s just toilet paper, sir! The man had tears in his eyes. I get that in the moment, it was scary, but none of the rest of us reacted the way he did. Just crumbled immediately under pressure.”

At that, Aelin’s laughter began anew. She remembered meeting Fenrys that first night she’d met Rowan. The impossibly beautiful man with the first face and a dark twin to match. The idea of someone with so much confidence crumbling under pressure had her cackling wildly.

“The two of us got arrested for trespassing, dad bailed us out, and to this day, we tease him relentlessly for it. As soon as we were in the jail cell, I turned and started to say something about it, and he told me to shut up. Obviously, I didn’t. And then I told everyone when we got together a few days later.”

Of all the stories she’d heard today, it had made her laugh the hardest. It was hard to reconcile the Fenrys she’d met with the Fenrys in the story, and she couldn’t wait to bring it up to him the next time she saw him.

Her favorite story, though, had been one his mother told her about Rowan finding a young, injured hawk when he was eight. Ivy had been baking in the kitchen when Rowan stumbled in, shirtless but holding the bundle to his chest. When she asked what he had, he showed her and begged that they take it somewhere that it could get healed and later released into the wild. A stoic hardass this man may be, but he’d always had a tender side. Aelin had seen it over and over, but it was sweet to know it had always been there.

They didn’t realize how late it was until Ivy and Matthias decided to head off to bed, which turned out to be sometime after two in the morning. It was then that Rowan gathered their bags where they still sat by the front door and led her to his childhood bedroom.

Because of how late they had arrived and dinner had been so close to finished, Aelin had little more than a peek into the bedroom he’d spent his nights as a child. She took a moment to look at all the trophies and team photos that lined floating shelves on the walls while Rowan dug through his bag for something to sleep in. Aelin’s polished fingers ran down the worn spines of books he had clearly loved, some of the covers ripped or missing corners from the wear and tear.

It wasn’t the room of a boy but a growing teenager. The bed was a queen to adjust to his rapid growth, the sheets, and duvet a plain dark green. A few textbooks were stacked on a desk in the corner, ones that seemed to be from his college days. Apparently, that was some of what he’d come back for. He wanted to use the notes he’d taken to teach his students.

Rowan was watching her, his travel clothes long gone. Instead, he was in a pair of sweatpants with no shirt, sitting on the edge of his bed and watching Aelin embrace his room. When she’d gotten her fill, she walked over to him, standing between his legs and draping her arms over his shoulders.

“I love it here,” she said quietly, twisting her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah?” Aelin hummed in response, kissing him softly. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“It’s perfect. It feels like a home. The way it looks, the smells, the way it’s decorated. That your bedroom is still the same it was when you graduated highschool.” Rowan smiled softly at her, tucking her hair behind her ear and pulling her in for a kiss. One that Aelin knew, had his parents not been down the hall, would have quickly devolved into something more. Instead, she pulled away and shook her head as if to clear it, “My parent’s house is home, don’t get me wrong. But it’s never felt this cozy and lived in. And your parents are…” Aelin took a deep breath, wanting to say everything that filled her mind. Ultimately she decided against it, feeling a knot forming in her throat at everything she couldn’t bring herself to say. To divert her emotions, she kissed him quickly and disappeared into the bathroom to ready herself for bed.

Something about that house, Ivy, and Matthias had Aelin sad to leave a few days later. For the first time after meeting a boyfriend’s parents, she found herself eager to return.

But she knew she probably wouldn’t.

~*~

The mental hourglass that Aelin had of their relationship was running out. While she was the only one that knew it and she did her best to ignore it, the idea plagued her waking thoughts and jerked her out of fitful nightmares. It didn’t help that their relationship seemed to just continue to heat up, despite telling herself that she needed to be pulling away.

It was nearly Yulemas now and just under a month until she would return to UT to start her master's degree at the same time that Rowan would begin teaching a course she was due to take in the same semester.

Much to her horror, when she had gone online to register for classes, Rowan’s was the last of the history requirement courses available. Her first pick was a course on art and architecture history in the southern continent, but it was already full by the time she submitted everything to her admissions advisor. Because of the strict outline that mandated she take three art history classes per semester, she had quite literally no other choice but to select Rowan’s class as her third and final for the spring.

The sword of Damocles hung over her head every time she saw him, swaying back and forth each time his hands explored every inch of her skin. Aelin was constantly cursing herself, sometimes finding the words on the tip of her tongue but entirely unable to get them out of her mouth. She knew she had to tell him, knew it was getting down to the wire of when they could have a conversation about it that wouldn’t end in a blowout.

Yet his sweet disposition when they were together made her almost forget. When they hopped into one of their cars to go for hikes up in the Staghorns, or when they lay on his couch watching movies, it didn’t feel like their relationship was as cursed for a fatal end as she thought it was. When they stood around throwing darts and Fenrys lifted her off her feet to celebrate yet another win on her part, it felt like everything was fine. Those moments made it so easy to fold up the whole truth with her half truths like they were tiny pieces of confetti. Aelin locked it all inside her heart, praying it wouldn’t pop off like a firework.

Still, as he tossed her the keys over the hood of the car, her cloudy mind had her missing the catch. They landed with a clatter on the ground, her favorite keychain winking in the afternoon sun. Rowan chuckled, teasing remarks that didn’t quite make it through her ears falling from his tongue. Her laugh was forced as she got into the driver’s seat, turned the key, and gave life to her car. In the seat beside her, Rowan gave her a long look as though he knew something was wrong, but she found a smile that she punctuated with a loud, smacking kiss and that seemed to ease his worries.

Today they were going out to do some Yulemas shopping for their friends and family. It was an easy decision to decide to go together. Aelin already had a gift for Rowan hidden in the top of her closet; she just had a few more names to tick off her list. She wanted his help selecting a present for Ivy and Matthias, and since he would be meeting her family at New Years, he required her assistance as well.

Thinking about New Years was already psyching her out. It had been enough to meet his family while she had continued to delude herself that maybe they could make this whole thing work, but him meeting hers when it was bound to go up in flames once she revealed her lies seemed cruel. It was cruel to her family, to Rowan, to herself. It would only cause unnecessary hurt when everyone was attached and getting along. Her heart ached for how his parents would react. The thought of never seeing Ivy Whitethorn again made her eyes burn.

Aelin wasn’t stupid. This entire thing was her fault and hers alone. If she had just confessed as soon as Rowan mentioned he would be a professor, one that would likely teach her, maybe this would pan out okay. But now, several months deep into their relationship, falling more and more in love with him by the second… it all just felt doomed.

Despite the hurricane of hurt that was headed directly for her, she would savor these last few weeks. No matter how hard she had to keep choking down her lies or how much it would hurt when it all crumpled like a piece of paper in a garbage bin, she wanted to soak up the last bit of happiness while she still could.

The desire to have Rowan smiling at her like she was the only important thing in the world outweighed her guilty conscience that day which was how they ended up walking with laced fingers through the over-crowded shopping mall. Strangers who were also scrounging for last-minute gifts bumped into them restlessly, sending Aelin rocking into Rowan’s side. He was quick to steady her, his hands warm where they grazed the skin of her lower back beneath her shirt. It earned him a grateful smile as they braved the sea of teenagers and adults.

Despite how hectic it was, Aelin loved this time of year. She loved the sights and smells, the general cheer that seemed to hang in the air. The massive Yulemas tree in the center of the open ice rink downtown always brought her joy. She had dragged Rowan down to the parade and ceremonious lighting, citing that he needed to experience Orynth at Yulemas time in full swing.

Rowan didn’t love the crowds. More than once, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him to weave in and out of people. When they stopped at the jewelry counter, he cursed them both for waiting so long to do their shopping.

“This is the best time!” She cried, her grip tightening on his forearm as she struggled to keep up with him.

“This is the worst time,” Rowan argued, giving her a pointed look when a man on a mission nearly body slammed her into the jewelry counter and Rowan had to, once again, keep her from toppling over onto the floor. Okay, sure, maybe it did have its downsides, but–

“Think about all the happiness that will come from these gifts! Imagine the children’s faces when they wake up in just a few mornings and get to open all their presents. And all the yummy desserts these people will be sharing with their families, all the memories that are being made right now.”

“You really have a flair for the dramatics,” he said, eyes skimming the various pieces of jewelry through the glass. Aelin grinned and mocked a bow. She was rewarded with a soft laugh and a kiss on her temple.

She was dramatic, Aelin would be the first to admit. Maybe that was why she was waiting so long to shatter both of their hearts.

~*~

For both of them, Yulemas went without a hitch. Both of them had much needed family time, and Rowan arrived at her parents in the late afternoon. The big party wasn’t until the next night on New Year’s eve, but tonight family and friends would still find their way to the Ashryver-Galathynius home to kick things off with a lavish dinner that a private chef had been slaving over all day.

Aelin paraded him all over the house, introducing him to everyone in a quick manner. After showing off the bedrooms, living rooms, and the theater room in the basement, she rounded off the tour by pulling him out onto the deck to show him the view. Maybe she also wanted to hint at some private jacuzzi time, but as soon as they stepped foot outside she knew he would love it out here as much as she did.

The house was nestled in the mountain side and it was picturesque back here. Especially once the sun set, or when you wanted to lay out and look at the stars. Both were things Aelin planned to do with him over the weekend, before having to go back to the harsh reality that was to become her life. It was a place that Aelin commonly found herself in growing up when life became too overwhelming or she just needed some peace and quiet. There were notches hidden along the wooden railing to show how many books she’d finished out here under the stars when she was supposed to be sleeping.

“I want to kiss you at midnight right here,” he told her, leaning down to give her a preview of what she would get on the next night. Maybe she should start a new tally on the posts: how many kisses she could coax out of Rowan Whitethorn when they were supposed to be asleep.

With her parents bustling around preparing for dinner, they didn’t have much time to stop and talk to Rowan just yet. So Aelin led him back up to her bedroom, putting his bag on the chaise lounge at the foot of her bed before hopping onto the plush bedding while she watched him peruse her room the same way she had his.

“This house is incredible,” he mused, pulling back her curtains to peer out at the scenery that surrounded them.

“It’s definitely… It's home. It doesn’t always feel like it, but it’s home.” It was hard to explain why, exactly, she sometimes felt so disconnected to the place she grew up. Maybe it was because she’d grown up with parents that were so busy building an empire that they weren’t always around. Maybe it was because she spent a lot of time at friend’s houses when her mom and dad had to leave for week-long business trips that she wasn’t allowed to go on. Maybe now the feeling of Rowan’s childhood home dwarfed hers with how inviting and warm it had been. But her parent’s estate still overflowed with memories and she loved it for that.

“My mom would love the kitchen.”

“She’s more than welcome to come make something in it. Gods know my mother seldom has,” she snorted, falling onto her back as he sat down beside her. Rowan chuckled, running his hand down her thigh to her knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. “There’s a really good chance that my ex boyfriend is going to be here tonight, by the way. If it were up to me, he wouldn’t be, but I never have a say in any of this.”

“Chaol?” The thing about Rowan was that he actually listened to her. When she told him about Chaol Westfall, he had spent the entirety of the conversation rolling his eyes. He even forced a gag when Aelin said that he wanted her to be a trophy on his arm and nothing more. When he said that didn’t sound like Aelin at all, she had smiled.

“Yep. His dad works with mine, and he’s a piece of work. His mother is sweet enough, I don’t know how they ended up together. It’s no wonder Chaol turned out the way he did. Annie did her best but his dad is just…” Aelin trailed off, unable to find a word fitting for the frigid man she’d grown up around. Rowan hummed in response, seeming to understand as he leaned back on his elbows to look down at her.

“And your parents are fine with the way he treated you?”

“They didn’t really know in full. My mom was ecstatic when we started dating because I’ve known him and his family for most of my life. His best friend Dorian is also one of my best friends. It made sense until I stopped being what he wanted me to be. He was the first, and only, guy that I’d dated since everything happened with Sam. I think Chaol thought I’d become more submissive and small since the accident, and my parents were just happy I was dating someone again. Plus, they not only have personal ties to his family, but business ones as well. I wasn’t going to risk my father doing something stupid for the sake of my dignity, or whatever.” Aelin waved her hand dismissively, rolling onto her side to look at Rowan.

“If things go sideways, I’ll be sure to defend your honor.” Amusement shone in Rowan’s eyes and Aelin knew he would, given the chance. But she doubted anything would happen to require it, so she simply leaned over and kissed him once, twice, three times.

Three little words floated to the forefront of her mind that she had to swallow down. Aelin hadn’t said I love you to anyone since Sam. Already, though, the words wanted to bubble out of her mouth and into his. Reminding herself it was too early, she occupied her lips with his until a knock disrupted the both of them.

“Aelin, my love?”

“You can open the door, Mom,” she laughed, the two of them sitting up as the door swung open to reveal Evalin Ashryver Galathynius herself.

“Rowan, I am so sorry we’ve been so neglectful. I promise breakfast will be entirely about getting to know you.”

“It’s really no problem at all, Mrs. Galathynius. I’d be more than happy to help tonight if you need it,” he replied respectfully, offering a kind smile that made Aelin want to kiss his face all over again.

“Nonsense. Guests will be arriving soon for dinner, so the two of you may want to get changed.” Evalin’s gaze shifted to Aelin, “Have you decided on what to wear tonight?”

In response, Aelin looked over at her closet and squinted at the contents that she could see, one eye nearly closed as she tried to zero in on something. “I’m wearing that new gold dress I sent you pictures of tomorrow. But tonight… maybe something black?”

“You have that black and gold one.” A woman on a mission, Evalin entered Aelin’s closet and began combing through the rack that held her fanciest dresses. When she found what she was looking for, she held it up for Aelin to see, who was now leaning against the closet door. Rowan was still seated on the bed, responding to a text.

“I haven’t worn that one yet.”

“I think it’s perfect, wouldn’t you agree?” Evalin nodded her head toward Rowan and winked, mouthing ‘It’s low,’ to Aelin in reference to the partially open back of the dress that dipped all the way to the bottom of her spine.

“I think you’re right, mama. I think you are absolutely right.”

~*~

Aelin did her makeup while Rowan showered and got dressed. He was devastatingly handsome in a simple black suit and tie. There was another option, one that was a dark green velvet suit that would bring out the stunning shade of his eyes. That one, Aelin decided, would match her perfectly tomorrow and was entirely too hot for him to wear for a stuffy dinner. She’d helped him adjust the tie around his neck and promised to be downstairs soon.

Aelin’s little list of secrets grew as she hid her dress from his prying eyes. It was one that had been sitting in the back of her closet for years, reserved for some future gala where she could get away with the risque back. Her mother pulling it out for this party, for Rowan to see, seemed to be perfect.

After he disappeared down the hall and she shut the door behind him, she sat back down to trace her full lips with a dark red lipliner, filling in the center with her favorite red lipstick. Drama seemed the way to go, which was why she had pulled her hair into a simple updo with two bat-wing combs holding it all together like a crown. The beachy curls she’d done before gave it an intentionally messy look, one that would keep her long hair off her back to really show off the beaded, golden dragon that seemed to be crawling up toward the nape of her neck.

By the time she had zipped herself into her dress, she was itching with anticipation to get downstairs and let Rowan see her in all her glory. Some would say she was cocky, but it was simple confidence that coursed through her. When she looked in the mirror for the final time, she saw a queen smiling back at her. A queen that would bring a man to his knees.

Stepping into a pair of black patent heels, she gathered the train of her dress and made her way down the stairs. People she both did and didn’t know were already mingling in the sitting room the steps led into, several pairs of eyes following her as she made her descent into the formal chaos. It didn’t take her long to spot Rowan on the other side of the room, who was completely slack-jawed at what she’d chosen. Aelin had to bite her lip to keep from grinning too hard as he sat down his flute of champagne on the fireplace mantel and made his way to her. When she stepped off the bottom step, she turned so he could see the breathtaking golden design, along with her scarred back on display

“You…” his head shook as though he needed to clear his thoughts, or like it might help him find the word he was looking for.

“Cat got your tongue?” she winked, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow when he offered her his arm.

“You are magnificent.” The reverence in his voice had her stepping a little closer to him to lean up and kiss him, laughing when she pulled away and using the pad of her thumb to wipe the dark red from his lips.

“I know.”

“Of course you do.” Rowan’s eyes rolled, but there was still so much emotion flickering in them that had nothing to do with annoyance. It was heat and adoration in his gaze, the former sending warmth straight to her lower belly. He looked at her like he was starving and she was his favorite meal. When he looked at her like that, their future didn’t seem quite so bleak.

Aelin had almost forgotten they were in the center of a party. Unfortunately, no matter how badly she wanted to pull Rowan into the study and let him devour her, she had to greet the guests. The women showered her with compliments on her look, touching the tips of the bat wings with their fingers. Aelin knew that her mother would get a boat load of compliments about what a beautiful young woman she’d grown into. It almost made her want to snort.

“Aelin Galathynius, as I live and breathe,” a voice drawled, and Aelin’s eyes dashed to the entry hall where one of her favorite people in the entire world leaned against a door frame, hands in his pockets.

She quickly dropped Rowan’s hand and bolted for him, running as fast as her heels and the train of her dress would allow. As soon as she was close enough she launched herself at him, arms going around his neck. To Dorian’s credit, he caught her and led them into an easy spin. Both of them laughed as he righted her on her feet. Aelin had expected Rowan to follow, but he hadn’t. He was standing by the stairs watching with a slight grin on his lips. She waved him over, grabbing his hand once he was close enough.

“Dorian, this is my boyfriend, Rowan. Rowan, Dorian Havillard.”

“Childhood best friend, extremely bi-sexual–”

“Dorian!” Aelin smacked his shoulder, earning a low chuckle. Her eyes narrowed and she pointed her finger directly in his face, nearly poking his nose. “He’s spoken for.”

“I can tell. His eyes haven’t left you since you made your grand entrance.” Dorian held his hand out, and the two shared a solid shake.

“I’m sure I’m not the only one,” Rowan added, eyes glancing around. Aelin’s did too, snickering over the few pairs of eyes that were still admiring the dress her mother had chosen for the evening. It was probably a bit much, but the Galathynius’ were kind of known for always doing the absolute most.

“Rightly so. You look beautiful, my darling girl,” Evalin said as she approached, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek. “I can’t believe Rowan is still standing.”

“I thought my legs were going to give out there for a second.” Aelin wrinkled her nose at him, sure that he was full of it. After a wink, he said, “Knocked the breath clean out of my lungs and stole the words right out of my mouth.”

“Oh, now you’re just sucking up to my mom,” she teased, sliding her arm around his waist. Rowan’s came to rest on her lower back, his thumb brushing small circles over her exposed skin. It made her all the more desperate to drag him away, to loosen his tie and roll up his sleeves while he edged her towards ecstasy. Again, she found her lip tucking beneath her teeth as she looked back at her mother, who gave her a knowing look.

“Well, it’s working,” Evalin said, patting Rowan’s shoulder before disappearing through the crowd to greet her friends.

Dorian, Aelin, and Rowan fell into easy conversation. Their group expanded as more of their friends and the ‘young crowd’ arrived. Aelin was excited that, despite the age difference, he was quick to get along with everyone. Nehemiah had nudged her at one point, eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline. Elide and Manon had separately snuck her high fives that she was certain Rowan had caught onto.

When Chaol showed up, she had introduced them before going to grab herself another drink. Just as she was walking back toward her friends, she overheard Rowan say, “Nice to meet you, Kyle,” and she’d laughed so hard that champagne had come out of her nose. The burning that followed had been entirely worth it.

By the time Lysandra arrived with Aedion, Aelin had an easy buzz and a grumbling stomach. The hors d'oeuvres weren’t cutting it anymore. She was thrilled when dinner was ready to be served and they all scrambled for their chairs.

By the end of the night, Aelin was tipsy and sad to see her friends leave despite knowing they would be back in less than twenty four hours for the New Years Eve bash. She gave them all lingering hugs, even her cousin and her very best friend who would be sleeping just down the hall. This was turning into one weekend that she knew she would never, ever forget, the memories burning brightly through the haze of champagne.

After saying goodnight to her parents, she and Rowan made their way up to her room. They showered together quickly, neither of them wanting to risk making too much noise and being caught. Not to mention that they were both exhausted, especially from his day of travel. Instead, they tenderly washed each other’s hair and bodies until they were clean. It had been a fun night, but she was beyond ready to sink into her sheets and dream about sweet nothings until the smell of bacon and waffles woke her in the morning.

But sleep never came. Rowan’s breathing evened out almost immediately. Constantly jealous of how fast the man managed to fall asleep every night, Aelin watched the ceiling fan spin round and round in her dark room. Her mind was racing again, blistering the truth by dragging it over the hot coals that had become her mind. Everything was mostly fine during the day, but the demons really crept out when the lights turned off and the world got quiet.

After what felt like hours, she gave up and slipped out of bed. She tried to keep her footsteps light as she made her way downstairs so as to not wake everyone else. There was no reason for her to be headed toward the kitchen. Just at the thought of putting more food into her body, Aelin’s stomach ached in protest. Yet all she could think about was the half-eaten chocolate hazelnut cake on the kitchen island that would surely chase away the nightmare of a truth.

The kitchen was dimly illuminated by the ice dispenser on the fridge. She was a thief in the night as she swiped a clean fork from the drawer and removed the domed lid of the cake plate. Not wanting the clatter of getting a plate, she began eating small bites that melted on her tongue. It was the sweetest distraction.

Until she heard footsteps padding down the hall, and saw Rowan appear a moment later. Part of his stomach was exposed from his arm being lifted as he rubbed the back of his neck and yawned widely. If she were closer, she would have been able to count each of his teeth.

“What are you doing awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Her eyes were downcast as she poked at the thick layer of icing, finding it hard to look at him. The truth was a raging ocean, desperate to crash through the dam that was her mouth. Aelin clenched her jaw to keep it in.

“What’s on your mind, love?” Rowan’s hands were gentle as he took the fork from her hands and placed it on the counter. He brought her arms up to his neck and slid his hands down to her sides. Aelin was quiet as she rested her forehead against his chest for a moment, listening to the sound of him breathing to ground her.

“What isn’t on my mind?” The laugh that escaped her was hollow, that ugly truth trying to claw its way out.

The look on Rowan’s face was pensive when she looked up at him. Instead of pushing her in the moment, he placed a kiss on the wrinkle between her brows while he began to sway them in place. The vibration from his chest could be felt in her arms as he hummed a song that was familiar but she couldn’t quite place.

When he took her hand and forced her into a twirl, she laughed. The awful feeling in her chest lifted if only by a little. Aelin almost hated that he was so good at scaring off the monsters. It didn’t seem fair when she could hear the tick tick tick of the bomb in the back of her mind but feel so at peace with being in his arms.

This time, though, she couldn’t just shrug it off. There was no forcing it into a locked room or a box. The truth had become too big, the whole thing had become too much of a mess. It wasn’t anything that she could figure out or salvage on her own. While she desperately wanted to avoid this conversation, she couldn’t keep the words down anymore.

“I need to tell you something,” she finally said with a shaky voice as he pulled her back into a light and casual carriage.

“Okay.”

Aelin’s mouth twisted into a knot much like her stomach. Their movements stilled but she couldn’t quite get herself to let go of him. Worried about what the next few minutes would entail, she rocked up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Rowan kissed her back, his hand cradling the back of her head.

“Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me and we can talk it out.”

“I don’t have my masters. I’ve been– I’m taking your class this semester,” she blurted, her voice quivering as much as her fingers and lips.

Beneath her hands, his muscles tensed as he breathed, “What?”

“After I graduated, I traveled for a while. After the accident I just… I managed to finish out my bachelor’s degree and I graduated, and I traveled for a little over a year. I took an internship for six months in the Southern Continent, and then just traveled all over to really soak up the art. And I start this semester for my masters degree.” Each word she said seemed to get softer and more quiet than the last. It didn’t matter that she had rehearsed this speech over and over the last few months. It was an effort to get any of the words out at all.

Rowan’s hands moved to her wrists, and for a moment she thought maybe he was going to tell her it was okay. Instead of words of encouragement, he pulled her hands from his neck and dropped them like she had burned him. He stepped away from her, all the warmth in the room going with him as ice flooded her body. The tension became so frigid she wrapped her arms around her body to give back some of the warmth. Or maybe it was to keep herself in one piece, to keep from shattering into a million pieces on the floor.

“I don’t– fuck, Aelin.”

“I know.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded small and foreign.

“You should have told me from the beginning.” She knew that, too. Through the haze of her frantically beating heart, she tried to come up with a solution that he might agree to.

“If we just talk to the Dean–”

“You are my student. In my class. In my department. It doesn’t matter that we have an established relationship. You should have told me the truth from the beginning so that I had time to prepare and figure something out. You should have chosen any class but mine–”

“I tried! There wasn’t anything else to fit my schedule and I needed the credit. This isn’t me trying to live some weird fantasy, Rowan. I want to finish my degree and start my career, not jeopardize both of our futures.”

Rowan sighed, his shoulders caving as he rubbed at his face. The silence was a heavy, deafening thing. The roaring of her blood in her veins filled the space between her head. It sounded like she was drowning. The way she was forcing air into her lungs felt like it, too. Tears were burning and clouding her vision as she blinked furiously to keep them from falling. They had never had a fight about anything, save for what they wanted to do for dinner. Their first real and only fight being about the end of their relationship was crushing her in ways she wasn’t prepared for.

Aelin didn’t think she would have ever been ready for this. The invisible string she had always felt like connected them was taught and struggling not to break. She swallowed hard, eyes unfocused on the cake on the counter while she wished she could take back the confession. Hiding it for longer wouldn’t have done any good, but preserving what they had, what they were to each other…

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her heart shattering like glass in his hands. “I know I should have told you sooner. I just wanted to keep this. To keep you.”

His expression was unreadable, hands moving to rest on his hips. Like hers, his eyes were bloodshot and watery, with evidence of more than one tear having fallen down his tan cheek. There was still the rest of the night, there was still tomorrow. Maybe after they settled a little bit she could take him out back and they could lay beneath the stars and figure out this complicated mess she had made.

Maybe he wanted to keep her, too.

“I’m going to get my things and go home,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

“I don’t– please don’t leave me, we can figure something out, we can–” her words failed her. Aelin didn’t have the slightest clue of what they could do, but she was willing to seek out a solution until they found something that stuck.

“I just need time to think.” There was a finality to his tone that she had never quite heard before. The lines of his face had hardened, his jaw sharp and his lips pursed while he looked at anything but her. It was the first time that she had ever felt so young next to him, the first time she had ever really, truly felt the age gap between them.The feeling of being scolded by her parents caused heat to creep up her neck and cheeks, the tips of her ears turning cherry red.

Just like when she was younger and getting in trouble, she knew there was nothing else to be said. Not only because if he needed time she would give it to him, but because of the way he’d said it. No room for argument or debate. It was final.

The knot in her throat made it hard to swallow, to breathe. She found herself speechless as he left the kitchen and disappeared back up to her room. The silence that followed was filled with gasping sobs and she finally started to break down now that he wasn’t there to see it. Aelin’s arms wrapped tightly around her body, her nails digging into her shoulders so hard that it hurt. It took everything to not fall to her knees.

After what felt like ages, Rowan reappeared in the kitchen with his bag over his shoulder. The sadness in his eyes struck her to her core. Knowing that she was the reason for his pain made everything worse, even as he crossed the kitchen and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. Even though she had wrecked everything they were, he still wanted to comfort her. That alone had the tears falling faster.

“Please don’t leave me. Please don’t break up with me, don’t end this, I can’t–” she begged, her hands reaching for his neck. That he allowed her touch at all surprised her, but his following words sucked all the air from the room.

“I’ll call you, okay?” His voice was raw, the auditory version of tears. All she could do was nod her head and dig her fingers harder into her skin as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

And then he was walking away, taking her heart with him. The front door closed moments later, and Aelin sank to her knees and cried.

~*~

It was a rare day that Aelin Galathynius didn’t feel like partying. Especially if that party was to celebrate a major holiday that required getting all dolled up. Yet as she sat in the corner of the room in the sparkling gold dress she had thought would bring Rowan to his knees before her, she didn’t care.

She didn’t care about the dress, her smudged makeup, or the half-assed curls she’d done. It didn’t matter that it was written all over her face how upset she was as her friends and family buzzed around the closer it got to midnight. Every now and then, someone would come and check on her, but she kept insisting it was fine, that she didn’t need a babysitter and everyone else should have fun.

Her mom had found her that morning, still sitting on the kitchen floor with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Silent tears streaked down her cheeks as she numbly explained everything. Evalin sat on the floor with her, embracing her daughter while she whispered that everything would be alright. Aelin wanted to believe her, but wasn’t sure she was capable of it. It didn’t feel like anything would ever be alright again.

It wasn’t just the relationship she was mourning, but the version of herself she was when she was with Rowan. Evalin had always told her that she should find the person that made her not be afraid to unapologetically be herself and keep them forever. Rowan was that person. There was never any judgment from him, only acceptance. Aelin had always been a wildfire, but after everything with Sam it had been dampened. It was the first time in years that Aelin had truly been herself, and she wasn’t the only one that knew it. Over the last few months her phone was riddled with texts about how good it was to see her happy, how good it was to have her back.

Aelin swallowed her, fidgeting with the beads on her dress. Her friends wandered over to where she sat in the corner, Dorian perching on the armrest of the oversized chair she’d claimed. The golden shoes she’d been so excited to wear were haphazardly slewn on the ground while her feet remained tucked beneath her body. If anyone were to bring up whatever conversation was being had later, Aelin wouldn’t be able to tell you what it was about. Her eyes had been fixed on the fire for hours and she had no desire to stop now.

Minutes before midnight, Aelin stole a full bottle of champagne and slipped outside while everyone scrambled to find their partners or a random pair of lips to kiss. It was cold, but she welcomed it, her bare feet padding along the brick flooring until she was able to curl up on a lawn chair. In seconds, she was shivering, and with shaky hands she popped open the bottle, holding it out over the ground. Some of it splashed onto her hands and legs but she was beyond the point of caring.

Through the windows, she could hear her loved ones shouting a countdown. Then they were cheering, and she didn’t have to look inside to know that everyone was sharing kisses and excitement for the new year. Aelin was supposed to be kissing Rowan right now. Her mind was supposed to be racing with what was to come for their relationship. She wasn’t supposed to be alone in the cold, thinking in what-ifs and guzzling champagne straight from the bottle.

The back door slid open, then closed. A moment later a jacket was being draped over her shoulders. She didn’t have to look over to know it was her father; the scent of his cologne was enough. Rhoe was quiet, running his hand over the back of her head while she stared at the stars.

“It’s supposed to be fun,” he said quietly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head. It was supposed to be fun, but Aelin couldn’t find any joy in the day. “Happy new year, Fireheart.”

“You too.” Her voice sounded disconnected and odd, quiet and scratchy. She hadn’t spoken much since she spilled everything to her mother. As she took another swig, filling her mouth with fizzy bubbles, she registered her dad’s footsteps retreating back inside.

Instead of making the new notch of ways she’d kissed Rowan on the balcony, she broke the bottle and used its sharp edge to carve a new line into the wood instead: ways that Aelin had broken her own heart.

Aelin stayed there, begging the stars until her bones began to hurt from the cold. Only then did she make the journey back to her room, the confetti a mockery of her exploded secrets scattered on the floor.

The only semblance of comfort she got that night was falling into her bed that still smelled faintly of pine and snow.

~*~

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