#CAN SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ELIDE

[ohanthonytomallamadingdong]

OOOOOHHHHH MY GOODNESS OMG OH MY LORD IN HEAVEN MY GOD ALMIGHTY I NEED HELP I HAVE I MEAN I CANT I MEAN WHATTT IS HAPPENJNG EVERYTHING IS OCCURRING WHT THE FKKKKK HOLY GUACAMOLE HOLY SHIIIIIIITTTTT

ok so now that that’s out of the way: thoughts on Queen of Shadows through chap 65

- Lorcan: “All those years we worked together, killed men and bedded females together?” ???????? together??????? bed- together?????

- on that same note— confirmed bisexual Lysandra AND Aedion!!!!!!!! my loves

- ((a continuation of my fav characters always either giving hella bi vibes or being canonically bi))

- they’re gonna end up together and be the “bi woman who prefers women and bi man who prefers men end up together to everyone’s confusion including their own”

- SHAPESHIFTER LYSANDRA

- knew there was no was she was a basic bitch human

- no hate to my basic bitch human Nesryn Faliq *kisses her on the head and tucks her in*

- Chaol FINALLY realizing Aelin was kinda right but JUST WHEN we as readers realize DORIAN IS STILL THERE!!!!! HES THERE I PROMISE WAIT GIVE HIM A MINUTE PLEASE

- Manon’s eyes

- they have Power

- Manon and Dorian have a lil smth smth but i can’t tell if it’s just bc these two seem to have a lil smth smth w everyone or bc they actually have a lil smth smth

- the entire bit w Dorian and Manon and then the 13 vs the Squad and then Rowan saving Aelin but getting hit and then Aelin and Manon’s fight and then Aelin saving Manon and ASTERIN’S SCREAM

- i am— ded

- ASTERIN

- ASTERIN PLZ

- no but fr that line about Asterin’s heart and her wildness being born of despair so deep actually is living rent free i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it

- and Manon FINALLY having that come to Jesus moment where she realizes she has to Do Something about her grandmother and it being bc of Asterin is something that can be so personal

- Aelin saving Manon bc of Asterin’s scream and how she couldn’t bear to take someone away who was cared for that deeply hits so hard like I’m getting the same feelings from Aelin lately that i got when reading The Assassin’s Blade

- Aelin being dark and broody and mean and cold when she needs to but despite that always always ALWAYS being kind and warm and supportive and HUMAN, freeing slaves and comforting children like Evangeline and saving Lysandra (both from imprisonment and from Clarisse) and telling Chaol she’s sorry and he deserves to be happy

- speaking of Evangeline I’m OBSESSED w how Aelin was like “go forth young hellion and bother Aedion and Rowan, two very large, very powerful, very scary fae warriors, with your eleven-year-old sass” and Evangeline DID SO HAPPILY

- Rowan picking up Evangeline and comforting her and Evangeline immediately turning into him for comfort despite his intimidating presence

- like that’s their CHILD

- by “their” i mean everyone

- Evangeline has four parents thx

- Lysandra’s reaction to being freed of her debts!!! her relationship w Aelin is so *chef’s kiss* i LOVE GENUINE SUPPORTIVE BEAUTIFUL FEMALE FRIENDSHIPS YAAAAAASSSS

- two queens getting together and discussing how to maximize their joint slay INDEED

- please get Manon in there i BEG

- anyway onto other Very Important Things:

- THE GOLD NIGHTGOWN I- WHAT- WHAIFIW I CANT HELP /&/&; PLEASE OMG—- I NEE I MEAN WHAT!????!!??!?

- AND THEN THEY JUST *light peck* *goes to sleep* WASAASATTR???? *SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CAGE* SARAH J MAAS I HAVR BONE TO PIK W YUO

- on a calmer more sane note i love the way Aelin and Rowan’s relationship is being built up

- like it’s not them denying denying denying and pushing it all down only to explode in a fiery mess of passion all at once

- instead they’re going into all this very deliberately and softly

- they’re so open and connected that they’re able to communicate that they want each other but also recognize when it’s the right time to move forward and they don’t let it overwhelm them because they’re so secure in each other they KNOW they’ll still be there for each other in another hour another day another week another year so there’s no need to rush other than the imminent danger they’re facing but they’re going slow so each next step is a promise that they WILL SURVIVE because they HAVE TO because they WILL TAKE THAT NEXT STEP

- anyway yeah i have Feelings

[celuere]

Sprinkled heavy Arlejuno into this but can be read from an x reader perspective!

The door creaked as it was pushed open before slowly falling back into its locks. Yet no one seemed to have entered.

Until Arlecchino dared to bend herself a little over the desk to spot a pair of blue-crossed eyes staring up at her with a pair of glasses that seemed too big for her face. Her two small hands holding a paper with suspiciously familiar figures scribbled onto it, her father‘s eyes focused on the black lines covering the skin up to the forearms like her own. So far it only appears as some kind of birthmark.

„Elide, what did I tell you about knocking?“, her voice was stern were it not for the softness rounding up the edges of her words. Little taps against the wood echoed through the otherwise quiet office as Elide rounded her desk. „‘m sorry, Papa… I drew you something…“, the white curls on her head bounced with each of her steps until she reached her father‘s chair before she held up her little artwork for her dad‘s inspection.

With now all of her attention fixed on her five year old daughter, Arlecchino set her pen down, temporarily forgetting about the important documents scattered over the wood, „Hm? My… is that supposed to be me, my flower?“, a gentle smile tugged on the corners of her lips as she took the painting from her hands.

„Yes… you and mama…“

„…why am I spewing fire, Elide?“, she lowered the paper to slightly narrow her eyes in obvious confusion, „and why does your Mother have me on a leash?“, the Knave wasn‘t often left in bewilderment. But Elide humbled her ever so often.

„I-It‘s your wing, Papa… and you listen to everything mommy says…!“

Wow. What a way to describe the relationship to her wife. She‘d never live the humiliation down if her wife got her hands on this… masterpiece.

Arlecchino couldn’t help the sigh escaping her lips as she turned the painting around and tapped the lower left corner with her fingertip, „and this dog with the piercing blue eyes is supposed to be Uncle Childe then?“, at first, it was supposed to be a joke.

„Yes!“, just where did she get these ideas fro- „you called him one last time!“, well, that explains a lot.

„You know what Elide, this… absolutely gorgeous work of art is way too beautiful for our wall in the kitchen… I would love to keep this one right here on my desk.“, her hand came down on her head to let her fingers run through the snowy locks, a few thick strands of black sprinkled here and there. It secretly pained her that her baby has grown up so much already. Not that she‘d ever admit it.

„Mhm! Please, Papa-!“, completely overjoyed by her father‘s suggestion, two way too small arms wrapped themselves around her waist- at least they tried as she pressed her face into her stomach, the glasses on her nose slipping slightly out of place.

It was moments like these that reminded Arlecchino of her humanity. That she wasn‘t as horrible as she always thought. That she was better than mother. Not perfect. Never perfect. But better. And that was all she needed. Knowing that her children had someone they knew was going to protect them at all costs, even if their affiliation with the Fatui won’t always allow it, was something that healed a little part inside of her heart. A heart that was forced to harden too quickly. She won’t allow it with her children.

„Papa…?“, her soft voice came out muffled against the fabric before she looked up at her through the sweetest eyes she may have ever looked at.

„What is it, dearest?“, a cursed hand came down to carefully fix the position of her glasses and put some lost hair strands out of her face. My, she truly was a beautiful girl, just like her mother.

„Can I have sweets…?“, to some degree are all children the exact same. She even had the courage to shove her lower lip out, like a lost puppy looking for a new home.

„Elide… did you ask your mother beforehand?“, and in almost an instant- her small hands came up to cover up those pointy ears of hers. A little… „lie“ told by her mother. Anytime she is being untruthful, her ears would start wiggling. Which of course was nothing more than a little hack to outsmart the girl. And so far it‘s been working out every single time.

„M-Mama said yes…!“, and if it weren’t for those covered ears, the Harbinger maybe would have believed her daughter. Yet, she merely crossed her arms in front of her chest, a finger tapping over her biceps as she stared down into that hopeful face before her.

„You know how I feel about lying, Elide. If your mother said no, then it’s a no.“, Arlecchino wore the leash around her neck on that damn painting with pride.

„Hmpf…“, the grip around her ears loosened before she let go of them completely, the shells now slowly flopping downwards at her defeat.

Just how could she tell?

Her walk of shame back to the door was dreadful. Accompanied by one last look back over her shoulder, big eyes on display, a pout playing around her lips. Her last triumph card.

„Sweetheart. I‘m sure one of your siblings will find the time to play with you. Go on.“, she fell for the face of sorrow and grief way too many times, but not today. Today, Arlecchino will be strong. Even tho her hand twitched on the table for the candies stored in the drawer next to her as she watched her daughter leave through the door like a kicked puppy.

Parenthood will always test her like no other hardship in the world.

[spiritedstars]

Boner for You [Elorcan]

Prompt: Fake Dating College AU where Lorcan just wants Elide to be his girlfriend for a party and Elide wants to pretend she isn’t thrilled about it. |

Genre: Fluff/Humor Rating: SFW despite the title lol. Recommended listen: Born by OneRepublic Author’s note: Inspired by this gifset here. I saw it and it screamed Elorcan. I just had to find a way to fit it in and what better way than fake dating?

She stood scowling, rooted in her spot.

If it was up to her, she would stay rooted to this spot forever rather than step into that frat party and have to embarrass herself for him.

Elide’s eyes shifted up to glare at Lorcan who was glancing down at her with a smirk.

“Scared?”

“No.” she scoffed. “More annoyed with myself for letting you put me in this position.”

He grinned at her and brought an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closely into him. “Now now, you agreed on your own. All I did was ask.”

“Desperately.” Elide gritted out and his grin widened.  “You asked very desperately.”

“And then you agreed to come to this party with me.” He said, leaning down to meet her gaze. His smile was wicked and Elide wanted to reach up and choke him. “You agreed to come with me to the party and be my girlfriend so that my ex would leave me alone.”

“Pretend. I am pretending to be your girlfriend.” Elide emphasized then pointed at him with narrowed eyes. “And what if your crazy ex-girlfriend decides to turn her crazy on me, hm? What happens then?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you, kitten.” he replied, his voice low and he playfully tried to bite her finger which she retracted immediately with a growl.

“I’m not your kitten. Don’t call me that.”

“I didn’t say my kitten but I see how you like the possessiveness of the term.” he replied, grinning at her and she scowled again. “I’ll make sure to call you that in front of people so that they know what my girlfriend likes.”

“I’m going to punch you in the face if you don’t stop.”

“You can’t reach my face, kitten.”

Elide pulled away from his arm and used every bit of strength she had to yank him down by the front of his shirt until they were inches apart.

“Yes, I can.” she replied, glaring. “Don’t push your damn luck, Salvaterre.”

“Feisty. I’m hella turned on right now.” he said, grinning obnoxiously and Elide nearly did punched him right then and there.

“Lorcan.”

“Elide.”

“I hate you.”

“Yet, you’re still here.”

Elide groaned and shot him another glare then pointedly gestured towards the door. “Let’s get this over with, you giant barbarian.”

It had been so stupid of her. So stupid.

Did she know that this would happen when she agreed to tutor his stupid ass in their Calculus course? No.

Did she think she would start crushing on this giant jock with a handsome face and really nice body while she was tutoring him? Definitely not.

Despite how annoying he was now, Lorcan was actually a good student. So when he spent the majority of their last lesson completely zoned out, she snapped at him until he confessed. He had caught her completely off guard when he asked her to go with him to a party that Fenrys was hosting. She had gotten invited alongside all her friends but hadn’t planned on going — she had even forgotten about the whole thing, until he asked.

It had taken every ounce of willpower in her not to blush and not to get too happy about it.

-Two days ago-

“Why?”

“Why what?” he had asked her confused.

“Why are you asking me?”

He shrugged. “I need someone to play my girlfriend for the party.”

“And you thought of me?”

“Yeah.” he had replied. “You’re smart and hot. Plus you're tiny and it makes me look bigger than I already am.”

Her expression flattened. “So you want me to go with you because I help inflate your ego?”

“Yup.” he smirked.

She squinted at him then said, “No.”

“Come on,” he insisted, attempting a pleading look. “I know your friends are going and it’ll be fun.”

“You think I want my friends to see me pretending to be your girlfriend?”

“They’d love it.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“What if I told you it was because my ex was there and I really don’t want to deal with her?” he asked and Elide pursed her lips at what seemed to be a genuine expression. As if Lorcan Salvaterre couldn’t handle his ex-girlfriend.

“So you want me to play buffer between you and your ex?”

“No. When she sees you with me, she won’t approach at all.”

Elide snorted. “I doubt Maeve will be intimidated by me at all, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Oh, Maeve will never see you coming. She’ll be too shocked.” Lorcan replied with a small smile.

“Shocked that you’ll stoop low enough to date a girl like me?” she asked, glowering at him.

“Shocked that a beautiful, smart girl like you would even look at a guy like me.” he corrected with a grin and Elide had wanted to punch herself for blushing.

“Well...there’s so much of you, you’re not exactly hard to miss.” she muttered, intensely gazing at her textbook. “Giant beefcake.”

Lorcan burst out laughing at that and Elide shot him a dirty look.

“If you haven’t already put that as my name on your contact list, please change it to that.” he said after it took him a few minutes to calm himself in which Elide thought of multiple ways to stab him to death with her pencil.

“I already have you down as ‘Annoying asshole’. I think it suits you better.” she huffed and he smirked at her.

“Fair enough.” he had replied, leaning closer to her. “So will you go with me? I’d be honored to have you as my pretend girlfriend.”

After a few moments of silence, she had finally agreed, on the condition that no intimate gestures would take place.

He laughed for another ten minutes at that and then Elide almost really did stab him with her pencil.

~

Currently, Elide wished she had stabbed him just to avoid stepping into this jungle.

Music was blaring, people were drunk all over the place, not to mention all over each other. Elide grimaced slightly. Lorcan’s gaze fell on her expression and he smirked before turning back to face the hallway, maneuvering them through the bodies.

“So which room do you want to start in first?”

“We will not be going into any rooms at all.” she snarled. “Open spaces only.”

Lorcan turned suddenly, causing Elide to crash into him. She staggered for a moment but Lorcan’s arm easily came around her waist, holding her tight against his chest. “Why? You’ve been in a room alone with me before, Elide.”

“That was the library. We’re never really alone in there.” she said, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him with flushed cheeks. “I already told you no funny business!”

Lorcan laughed and brought his face down to the crook of her neck, nuzzling his nose there before moving to her ear and speaking quietly, “Trust me, Elide. Business between us would be anything but funny.”

Her whole body heated at his words as he pulled away with another one of his wicked smiles and Elide let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

“You giant animal.” she hissed and he snickered.

“You know kitten, you keep mentioning how much of a giant I am.” he purred. “I’m starting to think you’re hella attracted to how much of me there is. You like that I dwarf you, don’t you?”

Elide could almost feel the steam coming out of her ears as she glared at him but he only laughed and winked at her.

She wanted to run at him and pound his face in. Elide was well aware he was making fun of her and yeah she was attracted to him because he was really handsome. And tall. And beefy. She did like that he dwarfed her. In her low moments, she often wondered what it would be like to actually have his giant body on hers.

Despite how annoying he was, she had to admit, he had charmed her in one way or another. The time they spent together working on calculus was ridiculous and he infuriated her to no end. But then he also brought her a cup of coffee and a snack for every tutoring session. He pissed her off but he made her laugh too. Lorcan was nice to her, even when he was being annoying.

Sighing, she followed him. Elide would play his girlfriend. Maybe she’d enjoy it. In fact, maybe she’d be the one to surprise him. With a determined expression on her face, she followed where Lorcan was now heading towards his friends.

What Elide didn’t know was that Lorcan was giddy as hell on the inside. He had taken a risk asking her that day but he’ll be damned if he didn’t at least try with her. This wasn’t about Maeve at all. That bitch wasn’t even at the party but Lorcan was willing to use her as an excuse if only to get Elide to come with him. Tutoring had been the first excuse so he could get her number. He was crushing on this tiny girl so badly, it made Lorcan want to dig a hole and die in it. She was too good for him. Way too pure. But he saw the way she looked at him sometimes. And he saw the way she blushed at the things he said and that had given him hope. Also, it gave his imagination a lot to work with.

“Elide! You CAME!” Fenrys half screamed, already drunk. He came and threw himself on her and Elide yelped at his weight.

“Hi, Fenrys.” she choked out and Lorcan quickly yanked his giggling friend off Elide.

“Don’t crush my girlfriend. I haven’t tortured her enough yet.”

Elide shot him a glare and Fenrys let out a loud gasp.

“YOU GUYS ARE DATING?”

“Yup.” Lorcan replied, grinning obnoxiously at Elide, the glare still in his direction.

“Nope.”  She countered and Lorcan raised a brow.

“SINCE WHEN? UGH FINALLY LORCAN.” Fenrys continued, leaning against the wall for support and it was Elide’s turn to raise a brow.

“Finally?” Elide asked and Lorcan smirked.

“Don’t worry about it, kitten.”

Elide narrowed her eyes then broke out into a devilish smile. She leaned closer into Lorcan, bringing an arm around his waist. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’ve been pining over me all this time.” she said and it was Lorcan’s turn to narrow his eyes at her. “If I didn’t know you were truly clueless at calculus, I’d think it was an excuse to spend time with me...babe.”

Lorcan blinked and prayed his body wouldn’t betray him because Elide was touching him all on her own and he felt that death was near. Her delicate hands were on his body and he felt both blessed and cursed. Fenrys giggled drunkenly.

“SHE CALLED YOU BABE. AW SHIT. YOU’RE IN DEEP LORCAN.”

“Is he now?” Elide asked, looking over at Fenrys. “Do tell.”

“Shut up, Fenrys.”  Lorcan snarled softly and Elide’s mischievous grin returned.

“Oh please, Fenrys, tell me.”

“PFFT, HE’S HAD A BONER FOR YOU FOR LIKE — MONTHS NOW.”

“Does he now?” Elide asked sweetly, lifting her eyes to meet Lorcan’s, pulling away from him and he scowled at her.

“YEAH. LIKE — HE NEVER SHUTS UP ABOUT YOU. HE ALWAYS STARES AT YOU LIKE A CREEP.”

Fenrys clearly wanted to die today. Lorcan’s scowl deepened but it was mixed with a slight panic and he bopped his friend on the side of his head causing Fenrys to yelp in return. He wanted to tell Elide he liked her. But not like this and certainly not through Fenrys.

“He’s drunk. Don’t flatter yourself and believe him.” Lorcan muttered to her, attempting the bravado he had when they first came in.

Elide blinked, her lips forming a small pout and she saw his eyes flash for a moment. “Well, geez, relax beefy.” she said quietly. “I already know you wouldn’t stoop for a girl like me. You’re the one who insisted I come with you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” he quickly amended and surprise colored Elide’s face at the red staining his cheeks. “I just — don’t listen to Fenrys — he’s being stupid —”

Elide waved a hand and cut him off, trying not to let the way her heart dropped at his words show in her expression. “Don’t worry about it. You should go get your girlfriend a drink.” she said, looking anywhere but him. “I’m going to need several if I have to keep pretending to like you.”

She could’ve swore hurt, then regret, flashed in his eyes before he reluctantly left her side to find the drinks. Elide watched him as he left and let out a sigh then her eyes scanned the room for any of her other friends.

“You know — hiccup — he really does like you.” Fenrys said, still rubbing the spot where Lorcan hit him. Elide turned to him with a raised brow.

“Does he now?”

Fenrys nodded then winced, rubbing his head again. “He just has a s-shitty way of showing it.” he slurred softly. “Maeve was a manipulative b-bitch. She totally — hiccup — fucked him up.”

Elide’s eyebrows furrowed and a small frown came on her face. Maybe Fenrys was right but that was certainly too much to hope for. Sure, he flirted with her nonstop and she had been attracted to him but Elide wasn’t really experienced and he most certainly was and —

“You’re overthinking it, t-tiny one.” Fenrys said with a drunk chuckle. “I can see it on your pretty face.”

Elide rolled her eyes but her cheeks heated nonetheless. “You’re drunk. You don’t even know what you’re saying right now.”

“Listen, I’m drunk cupid.” he said with a hiccup. “You got a b-boner for him like he has one for you. Just DO IT.”

Elide winced as he yelled the last two words, the blush deepening on her face before she waved Fenrys off. “Stop it. If he comes back just tell him I went to find the girls.”

“When you guys bone, I w-want a gift in exchange for this encouragement!” he called out after her and she flipped him off, causing him to laugh.

Elide’s eyes took in the mess of the room around her. People making out, people dancing, people laughing and drinking. She really wasn’t big on parties so she only came from time to time and each time, she was sure it would be her last.

“Well, it certainly isn’t a Fenrys party unless he’s getting flipped off by multiple people.” Aelin’s voice came from behind her and she turned with a wide grin to find her close friend.

“There you are! I was just starting to look for you and the girls!” Elide said, hugging her. “Where are they?”

“Manon and Dorian ran off doing things I don’t want to think about and Lysandra is kicking Aedion’s ass at beer pong.” Aelin replied with a laugh and Elide grinned.

“What about you and Rowan? I’m surprised you’re not all over each other at the moment.” she teased and Aelin gave her a smirk.

“We break up our intense make-outs and inappropriate touching into sessions so we don’t miss the party. You missed the first two times.” she replied with a nonchalance shrug and Elide burst out laughing.

“I’ll try to avoid any further sessions, thanks.” Elide said with an eye roll, her eyes scanning the room again, and fell on a current arm wrestling match going on between Rowan and Gavriel. Her eyes fell on the hulking figure of Lorcan intensely cheering the two on, the drink he was supposed to be getting her still in his hands.

“Forget about me...what about you?” Aelin asked and her tone made Elide meet her gaze. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“What do you mean?”

Elide knew what she meant. Her cheeks heating on their own indicated she knew exactly what Aelin was asking and the way Aelin’s smirked at her made Elide want to run from this stupid party.

“You walking in with Lorcan? Lorcan having his hands all over you when you first came in? His face buried in your neck? You having your hands all over him moments ago? Fenrys screaming something about boners and for you two to just do it?” Aelin rattled off and Elide groaned. “I mean, Elide, when were you going to tell me you guys were boning? Everyone has been taking bets on how long it’ll take for the two of you to go for it.”

Elide’s expression turned to horror and Aelin started laughing hysterically. “I-It’s not like that!” Elide quickly explained, her face burning. “I — we — it’s not like that! I’m just pretending to be his girlfriend! I’m doing him a favor!”

“Elide, Elide, Elide.” Aelin tutted, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “I may dislike Lorcan because he’s an annoying pig, but the heart wants what it wants. I will support you. And cut his balls off if he does anything stupid.”

Elide was about to protest again but Aelin pulled away to give her a look and she let her eyes wander back to where Lorcan was.  As if feeling her gaze, his eyes flickered to hers and Elide tried not to let his expression unnerve her. She braced herself as he started walking towards her and slowly handed her a drink.

“Sorry. I got distracted.” he said quietly and Elide took the drink, their fingers brushing as they had many times during their tutoring sessions. She curled a loose strand of hair behind her ear and gave him a thin smile.

“It’s fine. You guys look like you’re having fun.”

“Yeah.” he replied and his free hand came up to rub on the back of his neck. He shot Aelin a look before looking back at Elide and leaned closer to her. “I’m sorry. About earlier too. I didn’t mean what I said.”

She raised a brow at him. Lorcan’s expression was that of a scolded child. She almost laughed.

“It’s fine.” she repeated. “I get it. Fenrys riles up everyone.”

Lorcan chuckled then his expression turned serious again as if weighing his next words carefully. His eyes flashed to Aelin again but Aelin only crossed her arms, rooted to her spot and watched earnestly. Lorcan scowled and Elide bit back a smile then brought a hand to his chin, bringing his attention back to hers.

“What’s wrong?” she asked and Lorcan’s jaw clenched when she pulled her hand away. Elide had no idea what was going on in his mind but his eyes gave away to the hurricane which were his emotions. He cleared his throat and took a step back, taking the drink he had handed her moments ago then finished the entire cup in one go.

“I just wanted to say…” he began, then licked his lips. “Fenrys wasn’t wrong. He’s...he’s right.”

Elide blinked, looking between her empty hand and his earnest face. “W-what?”

“He’s right. I do. You know.” he said and Elide saw color heat his cheeks as he waved his hand, looking anywhere but at her. “Have a boner for you or whatever.”

Her eyebrows shot up as Aelin snorted behind her but the two ignored her.

“What I meant — I mean — that isn’t how —” Lorcan growled then stopped himself, crushing the empty plastic cup in his hand. He cleared his throat and then locked eyes with her. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while. It doesn’t mean you have to do anything about it. I’m just — I’m being upfront with you.”

Elide stared at him. She heard the words he was saying but she wasn’t sure she could comprehend it. Lorcan watched her expression of shock and swallowed.

“So uh. You don’t have to pretend to be my girlfriend anymore. Maeve was just an excuse for me to ask you to the party.” he said and gave her an embarrassed smile. “I uh...I’m just going to go. Have fun with the girls.”

Elide blinked again and watched him go. Her body lurched forward after him but then she paused, turning to Aelin with a dumbfounded expression.

“Did he just —?”

“Yup.”

“Does he really —?”

“Yup.”

Elide’s whole body flushed and Aelin burst into giggles.

“I can’t believe he actually likes me.” she mumbled and Aelin squinted at her.

“Why wouldn’t he? You’re amazing, El.”

Elide shook her head. “I just...never thought I was his type.”

“You are very much his type.” Aelin confirmed and Elide looked at her curiously. “He’s whined to Rowan about you before when he doesn’t think I’m around. Jokes on him, Rowan tells me everything anyways.”

Elide’s cheeks flushed and she bit her lip. “So...so this is real? He isn’t...playing a game or anything?”

Aelin shook her head with a smile. “Definitely not. He knows you’re the real deal.” she said and Elide’s eyes flickered back to where Lorcan had returned to an even more intense arm wrestling match than before. He was seated in the place of Rowan, giving his opponent a menacing look as they got ready to go.

Elide watched him. She watched the curve of his body as he sat, barely putting in any effort to knock his opponent down. The corner of her lip went up when he started sniggering at the poor fellow clenching his arm and at the two who took his place. Idiots. She thought. He was a giant beast, none of them would actually be able to beat him.

“Jeez, Elide. Get a damn room.” Aelin said with a snort. Elide shot her a look.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

Aelin grinned. “Maybe. But at least I’m usually in his lap when I stare at Rowan like that.” she said then gently pushed Elide. “You should probably move along if you would like the same fate.”

“You think he’s annoying.” she said incredulously.

“Yes, he is and I would love to stab him if pulls anything.” Aelin said and then shrugged. “But he's not a total loser. What can I say? I’m a sucker for love.”

Elide blushed then bit her lip. He had been upfront with her. Maybe it was time she returned the favor.

Taking one last look at Aelin, Elide moved. She weaved her way through the bodies, her eyes locked on Lorcan and his bulging muscles that easily knocked over the two opponents across from him. She watched him laugh at his success but the laugh quickly died in his throat when Elide slid into the seat across from him.

She heard the murmur of confusion that her move had caused but her eyes were locked on the male across from her as he gazed at her with a raised brow.

Elide rested her elbow on the table and held her hand up, in position for the silly arm wrestling game he’d been playing. She gestured with her chin to his arm and with a tilt of his head, he slowly reached out to clasp his palm in hers.

“What are you doing?”

“Did you mean what you said?” she asked quietly, her heart racing at their linked palms. She really did like how his hand completely enveloped hers.

Lorcan held her gaze and she saw the sincerity in them when he answered. “Yes.”

“You have a boner for me then?” she asked with a small smile and his lips twitched.

“I do. A big boner.” he replied, a grin spreading on his face now. “Both emotionally and physically.”

“That’s good.” she said and leaned her body across the table, planting a quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened in surprise and Elide took that moment to bring his arm down, giving her a cheater’s win in the arm wrestling match. “Because I have a boner for you too.”

At that moment, with him gaping at her stupidly, it felt like the rest of that room had vanished. It was just the two of them and a thrill rushed through her body. Lorcan stared at her for a few seconds before his head leaned back and he barked out a loud laugh.

Cheeks burning, Elide pulled back with a grin of her own.

“You owe me a date, Salvaterre. I expect you to deliver.”

He leaned back in his chair and gave her a look that made heat flood low in her belly. Oh, how she hated him.

“I owe you several dates and I plan to deliver on every single one of them.” he replied smoothly.

“Don’t expect me to go any easier on you during our tutoring though. I’m a dedicated instructor.” she said and leaned against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. His eyes lingered there a little too long before meeting her gaze and leaning forward against the table as well.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from my girlfriend.”

“Actual girlfriend now, huh?”

“Mm. This plays into so many of my fantasies.”

“Does it now?”

“I’ve been a very bad student, kitten.”

“I honestly cannot stand you.” she replied incredulously, but the knowing grin he gave her had her toes curling and cheeks burning again. He held his palm open to her.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked quietly and she slipped her hand into his. She really liked how much he dwarfed her.

“I most definitely do.”

[drsarcasticraspberry]

i saved this in my drafts to mull over because i think it raises some great points and it dovetails into other issues i see with how people expect trauma survivors to act. the take that "kink is okay only if it's subs using it to cope with trauma" is flawed for the ways that it pathologizes kink (it's something Wrong With You) whilst begrudgingly making an exception for certain people being Allowed to have that thing Wrong With Them (because of Trauma) and then gatekeeping acceptable expressions of that trauma (being Subby).

and i think this elides the fact that: (a) not all subs have a history of trauma, or have kinks related to their trauma; and (b) plenty of people with dom(me) tendencies also have a history of trauma and might find it cathartic/healing to process that through kink. a lot of traumatic experiences involve a loss of control - is it really such a stretch to imagine that some people might deal with that trauma by seeking out safe, boundaried situations in which they can feel fully in-control and powerful?

people tend to gatekeep acceptable trauma responses by demanding/accepting trauma responses that keep survivors in a victim role. meek, passive, eager to please, submissive; aesthetically depressed, endlessly wiling to forgive abusers, preferably in need of rescue. the palatable 'acceptable' trauma responses keep survivors as objects of pity. it's the "poor little match girl" fallacy. but anger can be a trauma response. violence and lashing out can be trauma responses. a need for control and a desire for domination can be trauma responses. if you're willing to begrudgingly give people a pass on being kinky because Trauma you don't get to gatekeep the nature of that trauma response.

besides, it's way past time we moved beyond "kink is a trauma response" and accept that people do all sorts of weird bonkers things for fun and dopamine hits. including kinky things. "but it's dangerous--" so's riding a bike. so's ice hockey. so's driving. "but why would anyone want to do xyz--" people run marathons for fun, and that sport only exists as a hobby because the first guy who ever did it very famously collapsed and died at the end. and then a bunch of people went "oh neat, i wanna see if i can do the Die At The End race!" humans are the Hold My Beer species. we do reckless and weird and ill-advised things for fun all the time. that doesn't stop being the case for kink just because kink involves sex and Sex Is Icky.

sex is a morally neutral fun activity. kinky sex is included in that. someone who likes tying people up and spanking them is no more morally "deviant" than someone who likes being tied up and spanked, and people need to get their heads around that. responsible and ethical practice of kink is symbiotic: it involves people with compatible sets of kinks working together to create a mutually enjoyable good time. you can't act like only one half of that dynamic is Allowed (uwu weak helpless subs who need help with their trauma) but the other half is Suspicious and Gross and Abusive. the whole point of ethical kink is that doms find subs who want to be restrained/humiliated/hit with things/choked/whatever so that both subs and doms get a negotiated, boundaried outlet for the kinky things they wanna do/have done to them. the idea that only submission is okay and sexy and funny but dominant tendencies are always Suspect is just advocating for a baffling dynamic in which either (a) subs only ever get to do kink with Evil Abusers (because those are the only people who are doms) OR (b) doms get nothing out of kinky sex and are just playing reluctant therapist until their poor sub's trauma is Fixed and then. idk i guess everyone reverts back to "normal" vanilla sex?

dom(me)s are not bad people. sexual desires are not bad, including kinky desires, including kinky desires that involve being in the position of power and dominance and control. like every other type of sexual desire/fantasy, it's entirely morally neutral, and ethically acting on it only requires finding someone with a compatible set of desires who enthusiastically consents to bone down about it. that's it. stop shaming dom(me)s and start celebrating the fact that there are good, kind, considerate people out there prepared to step on you to your heart's content.

I theorize the reason "bottoms" appear more prevalent than "tops" on these types of spaces is that it is simply easier to be funny about being a bottom than about being a top without sounding like a sex offender

"uuuuu 🥺 pls cock me aaaaaaaa *runs into wall like Wile E Coyote running into his own tunnel painting*" easy as shit comedy

"I want to put my DICK in someone" whoa dude calm down, take it easy

[gayrobos]

it’s making me feel insane seeing all these people posting about how great the new earthspark episodes are... the total lack of followthrough on any of the questions I had from the first part, the total lack of consideration when they were actively trying to answer those questions?? (like what was the war about? what separates a decepticon from an autobot? was the war history episode being purposefully vague or were the writers trying to obscure the fact that they couldn’t come up with anything coherent? when they implied the tf war was started by a decepticon labor uprising like in idw I was like please not this shit again. could you apply your critical reading skills.)

the main thing that pissed me off was the ridiculous framing of cybertronians in relation to humans. did we learn nothing from overwatch? it’s not a coherent metaphor for real life oppression if the people being oppressed came to your planet and blew up a bunch of your cities for their stupid war!! g-d the nonbinary kid who’s like “I’d never be scared of anyone who uses they/them pronouns!” after being kidnapped by a giant robot they can only assume was in the transformer military. sorry but being misgendered is simply not what people are afraid of from transformers! I could only read that scene as nervous compliance with someone powerful whose temper you don’t understand, but I know that wasn’t the intent of the writers. that was supposed to be a feel-good scene! good lord.

what exactly ARE the writers trying to do with the decepticons? they’re coming down on the anti-incarceration side, but... only because they’ve made a bunch of decepticons inexplicably nice? like. tarantulas? TARANTULAS is a nice and normal sadboy who just wants to be left alone?? have you ever. seen him in anything. like I have personal beef with the bizarre way this show grabs decepticons at random to make them nice little guys but I also feel like it’s representative of this weird impulse to be writing fanfiction where decepticons are nice actually. they’re all so noble! they’d rather give up their own freedom than see their autobot friends hurt! I’m mad about the incredibly toothless conflict between bee and breakdown. this series of episodes was really interested in painting bumblebee as someone concerned for decepticons’ welfare, but he refused to break cover to save breakdown---he only broke cover to save the person trying to capture them both. HUH? bumblebee is the hero here because he feels sad about doing nothing meaningful to help the people he ostensibly cares about?

anyway. genuinely bad people shouldn’t be incarcerated either.

there’s got to be a way to tell a story about being biracial and having to deal with the legacy of your family’s violence without this clumsy oppression metaphor that requires rewriting and eliding in-universe history and pretending that people spray-painting TRANSFORMERS GO HOME on a bridge constitutes genuine harm. do y’all know what systemic violence is? it’s not when there’s a secret organization that wants you dead and also everyone’s scared you’ll kill them.

[grison-in-space]

and it really ignores the way it makes a spectacle if there are only a handful of trans people in the room, or even worse, only one

god yes this. I'm visibly gnc enough that it gets everyone all het up to look at me, and I have in fact started going professionally by she/they exclusively because people stop being weird at me about it then. Pronouns aren't the biggest thing I want acknowledged about my gender, not by a long shot, but like... I am too busy trying to either tune out my own discomfort or obsessively parse the threat level of the people talking to me to comprehend anything interesting, okay?

I am so tired of people being excited to meet me and listen to me talk about a very specific experience of gender that I do not have! That is not the fault of people who do have gender experiences and interpretations of those experiences that aren't identical to my own, but boy fucking howdy I see these stupid fucking pronoun circles transmitting the idea that we are all in some kind of perfect consensus about gender as a major perpetuating factor driving that intensely awkward experience. I have been complaining about that experience for over a decade. I would like to stop doing that.

pronoun circles also erase foundational concepts from queer manners like "you do not ever, ever out another person" by eliding the concept of "contextual pronouns" or pronoun code-switching, in which one set of pronouns might be preferred in one venue but another might be preferred in a second context or around specific people. the thing is, these things are important. For all the straights and more insulated queers like to say how much better things are now (and they are!) they're still plenty rough for many of us--and, you know, what doesn't kill you can leave fucking scars. You don't get to judge how much scar tissue and unwillingness to talk about themselves without being able to control the safety of the space anyone has, and you don't get to arbitrate what spaces feel safe to other people. Consider that your space might feel unsafe no matter what you do and allow room for people to move away to inform their own comfort levels. Your audience might include people who have no idea about anything going on under the surface with the topic, but it also might include veteran activists and burnouts, so you will want to think about how you might respond to that if someone like that shows up and politely asks you to not smack them in the nose.

Please. It's so awkward to have that conversation.

I have also had someone cheerfully announce shit like "anything as long as it's not he, she or they!" because "gender is hard for me so I want it to be hard for everyone!" verbatim. *deep inhale of frustrated breath* when I am full on socializing and therefore masking I have limited cognitive capacity to retain specific contextual social roles, because I am doing everything consciously or semiconsciously and that shit is tiring. you have just announced that you are wasting my very limited cognitive capacity not because it fulfills a need that helps you feel alive but because it makes you feel wise and lofty, like you are engaging in performance art or "making people think." look. I don't need help thinking. I have three miniature essays on the nature of gender and sex rotating in my head at any given time. stopping me from thinking is the usual problem.

also the thing is I am not paying to attend your damn art, and I am not here to contemplate your deep thoughts on gender. I am out here fucking trying to figure out what cultural-category-shorthand I can politely shove you into so I can dedicate that piece of social processing to something else, like figuring out whether someone is secretly peeved about me or fighting off another intrusive anxiety attack. I like people who try to make interactions with themselves accessible to fucked-up autistic chronic maskers like me more than people who think making me do extra cognitive work to interact with them is a fun game. so sue me. you don't ever know how big or small someone else's overall energy reserve is. all you know is how much you value what you ask for.

the bitch of it is that I appreciate a good gender performance, in the sense of an art piece. that is, after all, what gender is: it's a social category we construct ourselves in order to advertise who we are to an unpredictable and public audience. and I love talking about gender, because gender is always endlessly interesting, and I have three different essays in the back of my head I should really figure out how to write up and submit. I love talking about gender because social signals are, in their own way, art! art is worth appreciating! but not when I am trying to play a role in my own right to make sure everyone is at ease, and not when I am trying to accomplish other things by communicating with you.

Besides, I love my friends very much but not all of my friends share my particular idiosyncratic taste in art, so it is easier to be able to dissociate these things with one another if we don't happen to overlap. performance art, like any art or form of play, should be opt in. if there is a thing you do not care about for itself, consider how hard you want to ask people to work to respect it. that's all I'm saying. as someone who has adjusted my pronouns to add singular they in order to accommodate people who are trying to figure out how to navigate a newer social rule to them as politely as possible.

and I hope the concept of the pronoun circle goes to die in hell, ideally before I have to launch myself bodily at people who are otherwise my allies and supporters in both queering sex differences research and also politics while shrieking at the top of my lungs about access conflicts, because the thing is I will do it. I am devoid of dignity. we all know I can and I will.

so. there's that perspective.

i think one of the most frustrating things about the “share pronouns in a circle” phenomenon, as someone who teaches, is it has been so entrenched in the “canon” of the “progressive toolkit” that when you reject it for very good reasons, you recieve pushback for not giving space for pronoun sharing, so you just end up doing it anyways. and it really ignores the way it makes a spectacle if there are only a handful of trans people in the room, or even worse, only one

[tomtenadia]

Drunken Cuddles

My stupid assignment is finally out of the way. It sucks but I don’t care. I am finally free to write some more Rowaelin.  This is an answered prompt:

Prompt: Clingy Rowan please, cuddles and all the good stuff

It’s pure fluff with a very needy Buzzard.

@rowaelinprompts

-------

DRUNKEN CUDDLES

Aelin loved having an evening all to herself. She loved her husband dearly but on occasion, it was nice to be able to have total control of the TV to watch silly rom-coms without Rowan commenting on them or even just order take out, stuff her face until she was full and finish the night with a slice of chocolate cake without guilt trips on how her diet was verging on terrifying. Rowan was an healthy eater and not a fan of sweets. He was her weirdo and at the altar she had promised to love him for better and for worse and embrace all his weird quirks. That evening the boys had gone out. Lorcan was a professional hockey player and had finally scored the contact of a lifetime. He and Rowan were the only married ones, the rest of the gang was still single so when they asked Aelin and Elide to join them, the two women had agreed to let their men enjoy their night out like the good old times. Both wives had reiterated the necessity to leave the business of flirting with girls to their single friends. Aelin trusted Connall and Vaughan but Fenrys had a hard time dealing with the concept of monogamy. The movie had reached an interesting moment, she was all tucked under a blanket and polishing off a gigantic slice of chocolate hazelnut cake she had bought from Emrys that morning, when someone knocked at the door.

Aelin sighed. It was eleven o’clock at night, who wanted to suffer her wrath?

With a burst of anger she flung the door open and in front of her stood Lorcan, holding up a Rowan who was clearly wasted.

“Sorry,” apologised the tall man “The party got a bit wilder than I expected. Blame Fenrys.” “Believe me, I will.”

Lorcan moved a step in the house and Rowan shifted and groaned. In that instant his green eyes focused on Aelin and a stupid grin appeared on his face “Lor, look, there is a pretty girl in front of us.”

Aelin almost burst out laughing, but restrained herself. “I took all the others home already, you guys live nearby and now I can go home.”

“Lor, can I talk to the pretty lady?”

The man groaned “Do you want me to help you carry him in bed? He is kinda of a dead weight.”

“Lor, I am a firefighter, I carry people out of building on fire. I will be fine.”

Lorcan passed the man to his wife “Now you behave.”

“I am going with the pretty lady?” His green eyes had lit up in happiness and Aelin had a rush of tenderness.

With practice she pulled Rowan to her “go to Elide, and thanks for looking after him.”

Lorcan nodded and disappeared away and Aelin started dragging Rowan inside “Come on, Ro you need a good sleep and then tomorrow you can think about the fact that you are not nineteen anymore and can’t hold your alcohol like you used to.”

“You hair is so pretty. Can I touch it?” He shifted in his arms and Aelin almost lost her grip. They finally made it to the bedroom and dumped her husband and went to gran his t-shirt and shirts that he used to sleep.

She pulled him up to a seated position and he flopped against her. Damn stripping him to change would be a nightmare.

“I love your smell…” she felt his arms sneak around her neck “Can you be my girlfriend?”

Aelin laughed hard and pulled his face in front of her “I am your wife.”

His eyes widened in surprise “Are you sure?” He slurred.

Aelin pulled him again closer to her and grabbed their left hands and showed him the matching silver bands “See?”

In that instant his arms folder around her waist “Mine. The pretty lady is mine.”

“Ro, come on, let’s get you in more comfy clothes and get you to bed.”

“No,” he added stubbornly and tightened his hold on her “You are not leaving.”

Aelin sighed. It had been so long since he had been so badly wasted that she had forgotten that Rowan turned super clingy and needy.

“Ro, just to change your clothes, I am not leaving.”

He threw again his arms around her “I am scared. The Little Folk will get me if you I leave you.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek “now you are protected.”

The satisfied goofy grin he gave was the most beautiful sight she ever saw.

“Fine,” he tried to pull off his shirt but in his inebriated state, his motor skills suffered a bit so Aelin had to help him. Then it was the time for his jeans and he blushed savagely when she told him he did not use underwear under his shorts “Come on, Ro, I have seen you naked a million times.”

He was still unsure so she tried another tactic “Ro, strip down and we can cuddle naked in bed.”

His face lit up and stripped naked as quickly as a drunken man could.

“Good, now go in bed. I will be back.”

She made a move towards the kitchen when all of a sudden she felt the weight of her husband on her back. Rowan was hanging from her like a backpack. 

“Ro, I am just getting some water for you and some pills.”

He shook his head with decision “I don’t want to be alone in bed. You promised cuddles.”

She sighed heavily and turned to her naked husband “Fine, let’s go, you big baby.”

Back in bed Aelin stripped down and climbed under the blankets “Happy now?”

“Yes,” he snuggled closer “you are so warm and soft.”

“Now, do you want to be the big or little spoon?”

He gave a goofy smile “Little, I want you to hold me.”

She climbed over him and then took position behind her husband. Her arms folded around his body and she heard him sigh happily “Happy now?”

He scooted closer until her chest pressed against his back “You are the best wife.”

She kissed his back, inhaling his scent “I love you too, Ro.”

“I am a lucky man.” He added with a sleepy voice.

A few minutes later his breathing steadied and Rowan finally fell asleep.

Aelin squeezed him and buried her face in his back “I will never let you go, Ro.”

TAGS:

taglist

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

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-A-Long, Kingdom of Ash, Day 9

Ch 62

Dorian and Manon are such a hard couple for me to root for. I can tell they care about each other - but they haven’t had a long time to explore their relationship. I feel like they’ve been starting to in this book. But it’s hard, especially with the way Dorian thinks it’s all up to him to steal the last Wyrdkey at all costs.

(It’s hard to focus on emotions when there’s a big, scary war happening and the fate of the world and everything rests on it) (but still) (I really like both Manon and Dorian individually)

(I would have liked to see a little more from them before this proposal and breakup.)

I can’t believe Dorian took the wyrdkeys with him and just left. How horrible for Manon, to wake up and find him gone, after she tried so hard to convince him to stay! And Dorian, hitting it and quitting it, what a bastard. I’m so disappointed in him! I’m sure he felt like he had to go through with this, especially with Manon describing their potential marriage as a “sacrifice” - like baby boy just wants to be treated like he’s important and he’s loved and he didn’t want to hear her say that - but I can’t help but feel like everything he did was the wrong choice.

That being said.

We do have to get the Wyrdkeys, it’s kinda important.

And there are bigger things at play than falling in love and getting married.

I just like those things more than being a tragic hero, lol.

(Don’t be a hero, Dorian)

(Or if you feel like doing it, don’t be a tragic one)

Ch 63

Man- Aedion and Lysandra and the others were still in the most DIRE situation when I paused. I hate coming back to this.

At least a little bit of backup is here

Thanks, Captain Rolfe, appreciate you…

And hang in there, you guys. Help is on the way. All hope is not lost.

(Someone needs to give Ansel of Briarcliff a hug and tell her everything’s gonna be alright)

Ch 64

“Once, he might have scoffed. Declared that far bigger things mattered, in this war especially. And yet the hand grasping his ... He'd never known anything more precious.”

That’s what I’m talking about! Nothing matters except falling in love, you fools! Stop all this nonsense and just kiss each other and tell each other you love each other!

(Elide and Lorcan are doing it right)

(The rest of these couples need to catch up)

Ch 65

Aw poor Manon. He’ll be ok.

Don’t get too heartbroken, babe. You’ve got a war to fight.

North - to Terrasen!

Ch 66

I’m very sad that Aelin will never be a goddess again, and it’s a bummer that she can’t use her goddess powers to evaporate Maeve.

But, like Rowan, I’ll be glad it never happens again as long as Aelin doesn’t have to suffer.

I’m so sick of her talking about wanting to end things. Girl needs therapy so bad. Yrene, when you get some time, our friend Aelin needs your help with her mental health crisis.

Ch 67

“Could Yrene heal them? Erawan and Maeve? I don't know why I didn't think of it.”

I would literally love that, lol, but I somehow don’t think it will be that easy

Poor Rowan. He really, really wants a family.

I do hope Aelin recovers enough to build one with him. I hope she doesn’t give up. I hope she finds a way to save the world without dying to forge the lock.

(Or Dorian - lol - I still love you Dorian, you piece of shit)

I literally don’t understand Chaol’s dad. He’s such a bitter old man, you’d think he would be happy that Chaol came here at all - that the battle waged in his lands was one where they survived. You’d think he’d be pleased that Chaol’s in such good standing with the new world order. Instead, he’s just pissed off that his whole family hates him, and he can’t control them anymore. It’s sad that he lost his wife and Chaol’s brother because of his own shittiness. It’s sad that the only one who cares for him at all is Chaol, and it’s sad that he’s pushing him away instead of working to let this trauma heal. I would have liked to have seen him apologize for being a shitty father. I would have liked for him to confess that he loved his son. I guess it doesn’t always work that way, and at least Chaol didn’t murder him like Dorian did with his dad. Maybe the door is still open. If we never see him again after today, well, I guess that’s fine too.

PART TWO BABIES. HERE WE GO. IT’S GO TIME.

[manonslayme]

Girl I´m gonna need more details on the relationship with cryptid!elide and manon pretty please

Anon I have been WAITING for someone to ask me about them omg

Okay so all my stuff for Cryptid!Elide is written in a separate post but the short of it is Annieth put some of her power into unborn Elide so now Elide is also technically Annieth’s daughter too and has some small powers and a vibe that freaks people out. Thankfully, that whole vibe is the reason Manon grows interested in her in the first place, plus the witch blood in Elide.

Basically whenever Manon and Elide have any kind of interaction Manon can’t help but notice the whole energy Elide gives out and it intrigues her enough to interact with Elide even more, mostly because Elide is keeping up her scared girl act and Manon doesn’t buy it one bit, especially since she has that whole energy around her

There’s are a few moments where Elide does scare Manon( one of them being wherever she reports back about the witches in the dungeon and when she and Manon talk about if monsters are born or made) but it also only makes Manon even more interested in Elide because it is hard to scare Manon and Manon wants to figure out how Elide works (something Elide doesn’t even really know herself)

When magic comes back is really when their connection starts because, similarly to how Elide reacted on the beach with Maeve when she immediately tried to run to Manon, Elide’s magic/energy reaches for Manon the second it can because, despite everything, Elide sees Manon as something safe

And, for all her talk of keeping her distance and of not caring for Elide, Manon comes running the moment Elide’s magic reaches for her. She feels how similar the magic is to Elide and she somehow, deep within herself, knows that it’s Elide, knows that she needs her and that Elide is desperate and scared and calling out for Manon, of all people

(I always operate under the belief that Manon and Elide are mates, not matter what Sarah says, and this post always solidifies it for me)

Throughout the rest of the books Elide’s magic and very presence calls out to Manon, always lingering around her and marking Manon. Every time one of the fae characters is near Manon they always just sense Elide on Manon, even if they haven’t interacted is a while, like whenever Manon is on the boat after her grandmother injured her

Manon and Elide are always drawn to each other, something in Elide,her whole vibe and just her in general calling to Manon and Elide being drawn to Manon because basically everyone is uneasy and uncomfortable near Elide but Manon?

Manon has always only seen Elide, through all the masks Elide has had to use and all the acts she’s put on and through everything about Elide that pushes people away

Manon sees Elide.

(Anon I’m so sorry I went on a rant they have been rotting my brain)

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Lost in the Maize

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Corn Maze

Getting lost in a corn maze is not Aelin’s idea of a good time. Maybe the helpful, silver-haired worker can help her find her way.

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection

Warnings: Language

2067 words

*******

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Aelin groaned as she came face to face with yet another dead end. She turned on her heel and stalked back down the path she’d taken. “Stupid mazes, stupid corn fields, stupid me for not grabbing my own map.”

She continued to grumble to herself as she tried walking in the opposite direction.

Aelin, Elide, and Lysandra had thought it would be fun to check out the newest corn maze, but apparently it turned out to be the most elaborate, challenging, and gods damned Labyrinth-like maze in all of Orynth.

At any other maze, Aelin would be able to walk through the stalks surrounding her until she got to another path, or better yet—the exit. To her growing frustration, this was the densest corn field she’d ever been in. She didn’t even know it could grow like this.

She followed the winding path as it curved around itself before abruptly ending, again. “For gods’ sake!” She cried, running an agitated hand through her hair.

Aelin took a deep breath. Two. Then she turned around and backtracked some more.

It was supposed to be fun afternoon. It should’ve been a fun afternoon. When they saw that advertisement for the maze, the three ladies excitedly bought tickets. All three of them loved fall, after all—all the activities, foods, and decorations. A corn maze should’ve been one more fun, autumnal thing to do.

It was bustling with people when they arrived, but not too crowded that they were afraid of being on someone’s heels the whole time they tried navigating the maze. They had just been about to hand their tickets to the bored-looking attendant when a bus full of over-excited teenagers pulled up. The ladies had taken one look at each other and ran into the maze, laughing, to get a head-start on the large group.

Their short sprint warmed Aelin up enough that she had been thankful she’d left her gloves in the car.

It only took a few minutes before a stampede of pre-teens barreled through and Aelin darted towards one of the diverging paths to avoid being trampled. When the group was gone and she came back out, Elide and Lysandra had disappeared.

Aelin had immediately tried texting and calling them, but she didn’t have any service out in the maze. She’d spent the next twenty minutes shouting their names, but there were too many people now that her voice got lost in the noise. After that, she was just trying to find the exit, content with grabbing a cider from the main building and waiting for her friends to find their way out.

But that had been two hours ago.

Now, she was tired, hungry, and as she lifted a hand to deflect the glaring sun, she could tell it was getting late. That, and her useless phone which was now nothing more than a brick ticking off the minutes as she passed dead-end after dead-end.

She couldn’t remember how late the maze stayed open, but surely, they couldn’t shut down with her still inside, right?

She stopped suddenly as she heard another set of footsteps from a couple of rows over.

“Hello?” A deep, male voice called out.

She whirled in the direction of the voice, hopeful. “Hello?”

A pause, then, “The maze closed ten minutes ago. Please find your way to the exit.” He said monotonously, as if he’d spoken those words dozens of times. “The cider stand is still open for a while longer.”

His voice got quieter as he spoke, like he was walking away.

“Wait!” She called out, “That’s what I’ve been trying to do, this stupid maze won’t let me leave.”

She felt ridiculous having a semi-conversion with someone she couldn’t see through a bunch of corn stalks. It didn’t help that she thought she heard him laugh.

“Are you lost?” His voice was closer now and Aelin heard a faint accent to his words.

She spun again, trying to figure out where he was. “Obviously,” She sniped. Was she being a little rude to the person who might save her from this corn-infested hell? Maybe. But she had been wandering in circles for hours now and was sure she was going insane.

Aelin froze when she knew she heard him laugh this time. Did he think it was funny that she was lost? She was fully prepared to tell him to shut up when his footsteps echoed behind her.

Aelin turned, seeing a tall, very attractive guy approach her. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his jacket and flyaway strands of silver hair poked through the beanie he wore. A small nametag was pinned to the front of his coat with a messily-scrawled Rowan written beneath an image of the logo of the maze.

“Do you need help finding the exit?” He asked, stopping a few feet away from her. He had a crooked grin that made his sharp features softer, and she supposed she could forgive his laughter if he could actually help her.

She flashed him a smile and nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

He jerked his head back the way he came and turned, waiting for her to follow. Aelin did, but stopped and look at him through narrowed eyes. “Can you really show me how to get out of here, or are you gonna lead further into this hell-hole and murder me?”

He, Rowan, choked on a laugh and looked at her incredulously. “What?”

She huffed and followed him anyway. “Whatever, either is better than wandering around any longer.”

He was still looking at her funny but turned down another path, waiting for her to follow. “I try not to commit murder where I work,” he told her after a second, “bad for business.”

She jerked her face towards him and laughed when she saw he was grinning. “Good to know.”

He held out his hand, “I’m Rowan, by the way.”

She smirked and gripped it. “I know,” her smirk widened as his brows shot up. “I’m Aelin.”

“Should I be asking if you’re going to murder me? How do you know my name?” he asked but didn’t let go of her hand.

She looked pointedly at his nametag and when she glanced back up, the tips of his ears were red.

“Oh, right.” He finally dropped her hand and rubbed the back of his neck.

“And for the record, I wouldn’t murder you here.” She paused and waited as he looked at her with a raised brow. “I’d wait until after you showed me how to find the exit.”

He laughed and Aelin smiled at the way his shoulders shook with it.

“Maybe I should take the long way, then.” He winked at her and Aelin thought it might not have been the worst thing to have gotten lost in the maze.

***

Aelin and Rowan trekked through the maze, not once coming across anyone else. They were joking and bickering, and if Aelin had to guess she’d say that it was taking slightly longer to find the exit than necessary. But she wasn’t complaining.

Not until the sun fell beneath the tops of the cornstalks, that is.

The dimming light brought a chill to the air and Aelin was now seriously regretting leaving her gloves in the car. She brought her cupped hands to her mouth and breathed hot air on them, trying her best to bring feeling back into her numbing fingers.

She could feel Rowan’s gaze on her as she kept up the heavy breathing and faced him with a raised brow. “What?”

He shook his head as they turned another corner, but she saw the corner of his lips twitch up, as if he was trying hard not to smile. “You didn’t think to bring gloves? Its October in Orynth.” He said like it was obviously something she should’ve considered.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “For your information, I did bring gloves.” she sassed but then grumbled, “I just left them in the car.”

He chuckled, “They’re real useful there.”

Aelin rolled her eyes but couldn’t help her small smile. “I didn’t plan to be out here for hours, smartass.”

At that moment, a particularly strong gust of wind swept through the path, ruffling her hair and sending shivers down her spine. Aelin looked at Rowan with his warm hat and extra layers and conceded that, fine, maybe he had a point—but in her defense, she hadn’t anticipated being outside for more than an hour with the sun gone.

Rowan huffed a laugh as she shivered again, and she was just about to retort with some very choice words when he stepped closer and grabbed her cold hands in his.

Aelin momentarily lost her train of thought as he carefully rubbed her hands together, keeping them locked between his, before bringing them up to his face and blowing hot air into their intertwined fingers.

Aelin opened her mouth but no words came out, and she knew the way her face was pink had nothing to do with the cold. Rowan blew a few more times, and Aelin watched him as she felt his warm breath on her palms.

She hadn’t said anything, a bit stunned by this relative stranger acting so boldly. But by the way her heart was racing, and the feel of his hands on hers, she knew she liked it. Really liked it.

Another moment passed before Rowan lifted his eyes from their joined hands to meet her stare. He must’ve liked her dumbfounded expression because he winked. Her brows shot up and he smirked, still holding her hands close, and explained, “We can’t have you getting frostbite out here.”

Aelin finally regained her voice and matched his teasing, “Frostbite is a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “You can’t be too careful.” Rowan dropped her hands from in front of his face but still kept a grip on them. “Like murder, it would be bad for business.”

She hummed in mock agreement, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling, “Of course, we don’t want this place shutting down and you out of a job.”

“Exactly,” he grinned, and she mirrored it. Rowan started walking further down the path, her hand still tightly held in his. “Especially since my professional expertise only consists of finding beautiful, lost woman in corn fields.”

Aelin snorted as she fell into step beside him. “Do you spend a lot of time finding beautiful, charming, lost women?”

He glanced sidelong at her and smirked. “Did I say charming?”

“I think you did,” she nodded. “And funny.”

Rowan huffed a laugh, “Humble, too.”

Aelin rolled her eyes but Rowan squeezed her hand and kept leading her through the maze.

***

It wasn’t much longer before they turned a corner and Aelin caught sight of the exit. She might have squealed. Rowan might have squeezed her hand again. She might have squeezed back.

When she finally stepped out into the clearing and beyond the last of the corn, she turned to grin at him.

“Thank you,” she told him, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “I probably would’ve wandered around all night if it weren’t for you.”

Rowan smiled back, his eyes lighting up as she chuckled. “Nah, I’m sure you would’ve found your way out eventually.”

“Luckily I don’t have to find out.” She glanced around and didn’t immediately spot Elide or Lysandra, so she assumed they were at the cider stand inside the main building. Aelin turned back to Rowan and smirked as she caught him staring at her. “How can I ever repay you?”

He watched her for a moment and his grin widened as she exaggeratedly batted her eyelashes. “How about you give me your phone number and we’ll call it even?” He said it confidently, but Aelin noticed the hint of nervousness in his green eyes.

She took a step towards him, near enough now that she had to crane her neck back to meet his eyes. Eyes that widened at her closeness, but he didn’t step back.

“I’ll do you one better,” she whispered and winked. “I’ll let you take me out on a date.”

As he grinned, Aelin silently thanked the chaotic group of kids that separated her from her friends. Something good came from her being lost, after all.

*****

Taglist:

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[emeriethevalkyriegirl]

‘Found you’ (Elorcan week: Day 7 Free Day)

You guys remember my Rowaelin fic when Aelin was a child right? Well guess what? I’m doing it again. This time with Elide and Lorcan.

@elorcanweek2022

Elide covered her mouth, trying to keep the dust from reaching her nose. This little 7 year old was playing hide and seek with her imaginary friend. A friend she came up with a little while ago while she was asleep.

She dreamed that this friend was tall. So tall that he could touch the sky with just a reach of his arm. So tall that this friend would help her to reach the top shelf of a cabinet. But mostly, to hide from her angry uncle so she won’t be so afraid.

She also dreamed that her friend was strong and brave. Because she thought she wouldn’t ever be those things. Someone to help her when she fell. When she needed to be cared for whenever she needed it most. A strong shoulder to cry on when she couldn’t face the day.

Lastly, she dreamed of that friend to be handsome. So handsome she wanted to marry him. That way, when she becomes beautiful, he could take her away from this place and they can run away together. Far away. Where no one could tell them what to do.

Now, that dream had become a reality. The moment she woke up from her bed, a mysterious man was sitting oh a stool looking at her with interest. There he was. Her imaginary friend. She smiled at him and asked, “Are you real?” The man smiled back and lightly squeezed her nose, making Elide giggle.

From that moment on, the two of them played games with each other and talked about their lives. (Well mostly Elide doing the talking sense her friend didn’t speak). Their favorite was hide and seek. Because where ever Elide hid, her friend would always find her.

Now, here she was again, silencing her giggles as she heard foot steps coming to her bed. Elide wiggled her toes in anticipation. “He’ll never find me here.” She whispered thinking that she had won the game. That is until her friend lifted the sheet form the bed revealing her surprised face. Elide squealed and laughed as her friend playfully pulled her from under the bed. “You found me!” She cheered in delight as her friend rolled his eyes and gave her a small kiss on her cheek.

Elide rolled over onto her back like a puppy begging for a belly rub. “Wanna play funny faces?” Funny faces was a game where Elide and her friend would try to pull off the silliest faces ever. Whoever laughs first looses. Elide always lost but she always had fun.

Her friend nodded, already pulled off his first funny face by using his hand to squish his face like a fish out of water. Elide covered her mouth and chuckled a bit but didn’t laugh yet. So she stuck her tongue out and rolled her eyes in different directions. Her friend giggled but no sound came out. Still, it was almost a laugh. Her friend put both of his index fingers behind his ear and pushed them forward to make them look like a monkey’s ear. He couldn’t make any sounds but he moved his mouth in different shape to make it look like he was making monkey sounds.

Elide couldn’t take it anymore and was the first one to laugh. Her friend smirked and picked her up, surprising the 7 year old as he spun her around the room like a comet. Elide burst with joy. Never had she ever experienced so much fun in her life. She wished that it would never end.

That is…until he bell chimed.

Her friend froze in place, still holding Elide in the air. The amusement died in his eyes as Elide gasp in fright. Midnight had come. It was time for him to leave. Elide shook her head rapidly. “No no no. Don’t go please. I don’t want you to go. Please stay. Please!” Elide begged as her friend placed her in her bed and pulled the covers over her body. Her friend shook his head slowly, closing her mouth with his finger. Elide felt tears rolling down her face as her friend sadly smiled and kissed them away.

Her friend drew his finger along her forehead to form a sentence. It was how the two of them were able to communicate.

I’ll be back tomorrow

Elide sniffled a bit. “P-Promise?” She asked as her friend nodded and squeezed her nose knowing that it’ll make her giggle. It did. The friend put both of his hands on each side of her head to fall asleep. When Elide was finally asleep, Lorcan sighed. “I’ll found you again. I promise.”

[rowanaelinn]

Strange Love

A one shot I’ve been working on for a few days to thank you for 100 followers!! I’m so happy to see people enjoying my fics, i truly love it.

warning: nsfw

“What can I get you?” The barkeep asked Aelin with his most charming smile. He was young and a brunette, exactly Aelin’s type, and according to his name tag he was named Chaol. If only she was less tired or if she was in Doranelle for her own fun she might have tried to flirt with him. “We’ll take two Sex On The Beach, please,” Fenrys, Aelin’s best friend, and coworker, ordered for them both. As funny as it was, whenever they saw each other they drank the same thing. They had met at a work conference five years ago, both of them were sitting at the bar, not in the mood to keep up with their boss, and both of them were drinking the same thing. it had become their ritual, that little thing that made their friendship special.

The waiter nodded and started preparing the drinks. When Aelin looked at her friend he had an eyebrow raised and a small smirk on his face. “What is it?” She asked.

“That guy is basically Sam with straight hair, you can’t keep seeing men that look exactly the same.”

“That’s not true!” It was true. “Besides, I wasn’t going to try anything.”

The look he gave her proved he didn’t believe her. When Chaol brought their drinks and winked at Aelin, she couldn’t help but laugh with Fenrys. “Okay, I may have a type,” Aelin admitted and Fenrys shook his head as he drank. “But there is nothing wrong with that!”

“Of course there’s nothing wrong with it, Ace. But having a type and dating the same guys in different fonts every time are two very different things. You need to spice things up!” He shook her shoulders and they both laughed. “You work your ass off all the time. For Mala’s sake, you haven’t got laid in two years.”

She took the little piece of pineapple hanging on the rim of her glass and threw it into Fenrys' head, right between the eyes. “I should never have told you this.”

Of course, the bastard just laughed, he never took things seriously, exactly like Aelin, as long as it wasn’t about her. “We are on another continent for four days, why don’t you go for it and have some fun.”

“I am at a club with you, I’m having lots of fun.”

“Unless you want to sleep with me again, I can’t give you the fun I’m talking about right now.” This time she took Fenrys’s piece of pineapple and this time he received it on the nose.

“Sleeping with you was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.” Fenrys put both hands on his heart, pretending to be hurt by Aelin’s words. She shook her head as she laughed and looked around her. The club was quite crowded for a Thursday night, Fenrys and Aelin both had been lucky to find seats at the bar. “So you want me to take advantage of Elide and Lorcan’s wedding to have sex, that’s what you mean?”

“You'll meet a lot of people at their rehearsal dinner tomorrow or at the ceremony on Saturday. Many of them will be Lorcan’s friends that you will see only for two days.”

“I’m Elide’s bridesmaid, Fen. I won’t have time to flirt.”

“Elide told me Lorcan’s best man was hot!” he tried as he finished his first drink and ordered another one for both of them.

“He is Lorcan’s friend, I don’t trust anyone who pulls out with Lorcan’s bullshit,” She said and finished the end of her glass so that Chaol could take it back and put another one in front of her. “Besides Elide.”

“Amen,” Fenrys said as they clinked their drinks. Lorcan wasn’t Aelin and Fenrys’s biggest fan, and the feeling was mutual. Elide might see another side of this man when it’s just the both of them because Aelin didn’t know why else she would marry him. But Aelin never saw her sister happier than when she was with Lorcan, so Aelin was happy for her.

“Well since you don’t want to get laid tomorrow and Saturday, why not tonight? If you discreetly turn around you’ll see one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen staring at your back.”

Aelin was skeptical. Fenrys and her had similar tastes in women but not in men. She took her drink in hand and turned around slowly as if she was just looking around the club.

Her breath caught when she found a man with silver hair looking at her. He was sitting a few seats away from Aelin, and his eyes were fixed on her. She had dressed up well, she might not have gotten a lot of action lately because of her job but she still loved to be looked at. She was beautiful and she knew it, so she had no reasons to hide.

She had borrowed one of Lysandra’s dresses today, this one was gold. The dress was tight and exposed enough of her chest and back that she caught several glances at her tonight. The stranger was one of them. He had no shame in lowering his gaze to her breast and biting his lip. When his gaze descended again on Aelin's body, she arched her back slightly, crossing her legs to make her dress rise a little more.

As he drank in the sight of her, she marveled at the way his white shirt exposed his muscles. She even caught a tattoo on one of his arms, and with the way his head is turned toward her she could swear the tattoo went up to his neck. It was Aelin’s turn to bite her lip, she always found men with tattoos hot.

When Aelin looked back at his face he had a satisfied smirk, happy to catch her staring. She wouldn’t feel ashamed, not when it seemed he had to readjust his position in his seat after looking at her. She drank her cocktail down in one and delicately wiped her lips with her thumb, drawing the stranger's attention to them. Gods, it was almost too simple. Aelin loved the hunt, she loved to make things last. If she didn't have to fight for something it meant it wasn't worth it.

But the man wasn’t at her side yet, he was just sitting and seemed content to look at her. Most men would already be talking with her now or would be using their tongue in another way. But if Aelin learned something in twenty-seven years of life, it was that men didn’t like to wait. But maybe this silver-haired stranger did, maybe he was like her.

“You’re going to help me,” Aelin said as she took Fenrys' hand, he hurriedly finished his drink before getting down from his chair, following Aelin onto the dance floor. She slightly accentuated the sway of her hips, sure to have the stranger's attention on her.

“You’re the devil,” Fenrys chuckled as his hands slid on her hips and turned her around, pressing her back into his front. They started dancing slowly, both of their hips moving together. As her head fell back on Fenrys’s shoulder and one of his hands trailed up to her stomach, she opened her eyes to find the stranger staring at them.

If Aelin knew anything else about men is that they felt entitled to what doesn’t belong to them. So if she wanted to make him jealous to get what she wanted in the end, she would rather use Fenrys than a random man who could get violent for rejecting him in the end.

“With all the work I put into this I sure hope you'll ask me to join,” Fenrys said loud enough for her to hear as his lips grazed where the shoulder met her neck.

“Go find your own fun,” Aelin wasn’t shy in the bedroom but never had she done a threesome and she certainly wouldn’t have her first with a stranger.

The stranger’s eyes narrowed as she slid a hand on Fenrys’s blonde curls, arching against him. He tightened his grip around his glass of whiskey. Aelin's eyes were fixed on his fingers. She could imagine what they would feel like on her cheeks, breasts, stomach, tights or even inside her. Her inside twitched at that thought.

From the look on his face, he knew what had just been on her mind. Was this supposed to impress me? He seemed to ask as he arched his brow. He leaned in his seat and made a sign to Aelin to keep going. She couldn’t help but smirk and decide she liked this man.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Aelin winked at the man and turned around. She slid her hand around Fenrys neck and he automatically knew what she was doing. He laughed as he lowered his head to kiss her.

The kiss was heated, exactly the way it needed to be. One of his hands gripped her ass, bringing her closer to him while the other found her breast. She moaned, imagining the stranger's hands instead of Fenrys’s. Aelin opened her eyes to find him right in front of her, still sitting, staring at them. He was breathing heavily, eyes fixed on her. It felt so scandalous to kiss someone just for the show, just to provoke someone else.

She closed her eyes as Fenrys broke the kiss to start nipping at her neck. She threw her head back, still thinking about someone else's lips. Fenrys was good at it, but he wasn’t the one she needed now.

“Can I cut in?” A deep voice interrupted them as a warm hand slid on Aelin’s waist. She turned around to see deep green eyes staring at her. Her heart started beating faster at the mischief in these eyes, Aelin had no idea what she had just got into. Fenrys took his hands off her and kissed her cheek, murmuring to her to stay safe, to call him if she needed and he left them alone. Or as alone as they could be in a crowded club.

Having him so close to her made her feel many things but she did her best to keep a normal face. She gasped when he used his hand around her waist to turn her around, pressing her back to his front. Well, that wasn't exactly what she imagined herself doing once she spoke to him. “Don’t be shy, baby. You seemed to like dancing like a whore five minutes ago, didn’t you?”

She could feel herself getting wet at his crude words, this man was going to kill her before the end of the night and she wasn’t complaining. “Maybe I just don’t want to dance with you,” she taunted as her hips started moving with his. As she arched her back to feel more of him, she felt the evidence of his desire. Gods, he had gotten hard watching her. That might be the hottest thing Aelin ever lived.

“Is that why your eyes were on me when your tongue was down his throat?” One of his hands slid up, close enough to her breast for him to stroke the underside with his thumb. Her head fell back on his shoulder and she turned her head to find his eyes on her. She could see all his features now, and she’d been stupid to think every man she had been attracted to had been her type. Her type was him, nothing else.

She couldn’t answer, too overwhelmed. Looking at him as he touched her was too intense, she ground her ass harder on his erection, wanting to make him as desperate as she was. His hand slipped around her waist, holding her as close as he could, as the other one cupped her cheek, keeping her eyes on him. His thumb traced the curve of her lips, she opened her mouth and she stuck out her tongue to lick the tip of his finger in the most provocative way possible while keeping her eyes innocent.

He growled and inserted his thumb in her mouth, she closed her full, luscious, lips around it and turned her tongue around the tip. He leaned to her ear and whispered, tickling her with his hot breath, "You want me to fuck you, baby?"

She nodded eagerly, no longer caring that she looked desperate when his hand slid down to her thigh, just below her dress. He stroked her skin, if he moved his hand up a little he could touch her panties. “Are you wet?” He asked, making her clench around nothing. She didn’t have time to nod before his finger stroked her lace-covered slit. She moaned loudly around his thumb, suddenly grateful for the music. He slipped one finger under her panties and groaned at what he found. She closed her eyes as he caressed her folds, not touching either her entrance or clit. This man was a tease and Aelin loved it. “You’re so fucking wet, is it all for me?” he asked and let out a low laugh when she didn’t answer. “Does it turn you on to be touched in front of everyone?”

As if only remembering where they were, Aelin’s eyes shot open and she turned her head, trying to see if anyone was looking at them. Aelin’s mouth was left empty without the man’s thumb. He used his free hand to push her head back on his shoulder, forcing her to look at him. He had a satisfied smirk on his lips and didn't look worried about the hundreds of people around them.

“Nobody’s noticing you, baby. But you’re gonna have to stay quiet for me because I’m going to make you come right now and I don’t want anyone else to look at you.”

She wanted to protest, she really wanted to. But all she did was bite her lip when the stranger's thumb flicked her clit and another of his fingers plunged into her entrance. He didn’t wait before thrusting into her at the right rhythm to get her off. He added another finger and Aelin couldn’t help but let out another moan.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the pleasure but it apparently wasn’t in the man’s plan. “Look at me when I make you come, baby.” Too gone to care, Aelin opened her eyes and clenched around his finger when she met his eyes. He had the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen and having them on her as she started rolling her hips against his hand was almost too much. “You’re so tight, I can’t wait to feel your cunt around my cock,” He whispered in her ear as he added a third finger. He circled her clit one last time and she fell over the edge, hiding her head in his neck as she bit her lip to the blood not to scream of pleasure. He didn’t stop thrusting into her, prolonging her climax. When her walls stopped spasming around his finger he stopped, pulling out his fingers.

Her legs were shaking and if he didn’t use his arm to hold her she would have fallen on the floor. “You did so well,” he praised her, kissing the top of her head. She just let a man whose name she didn’t know finger her in public and made her come faster than anyone ever did. She could almost laugh at the situation if she wasn’t still so needy.

“Join me in the bathroom?” He asked and she didn’t answer, only took his hand and started walking. The moment he closed and locked the door, she was thrown on the wall and his lips crashed onto hers. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, sliding her hands through his soft silver hair.

"What's your name?" She asked as he kissed her jaw and then her neck.

He looked back at her face, she was grateful he was holding her legs because she felt them weaken, pinned under his stare. “What’s yours, baby?” She wanted to say she asked first, but she knew enough about him to know he was in control.

“Celeana,” the lie rolled off her tongue easily. No matter how good this man was, he was still a stranger and Aelin was a woman. The less he knew about her, the better. “Yours?”

“You won’t need to call me anything else than ‘sir’.” He said with a proud smirk as he got her back on her feet and turned her around to face the mirror. He pushed her so her hands rested on the sink, the only thing holding her when he started kissing her neck.

“If I’m too rough you say red, understand?” He asked, looking at her in the mirror. She just nodded, leaning her back into his front. He pulled her dress up around her waist and spanked her. She bent over the sink, only held on her legs by the man's hold on her hip. The pain spread throughout her body, setting all her nerves on fire. “Use your damn words, Celeana.”

“Yes.” Not the answer he wanted because he spanked her twice, once on each ass cheek, harder than the first time. She couldn’t hold back her moans.

“Want to say something?” He asked, his tone mocking. She shouldn’t like this, shouldn’t like being treated that way. She had had public sex and been degraded for the first time in her life tonight, and the gods knew how much she loved all of it.

“I understand, sir.” She breathed.

“So you can be a good girl, that’s surprising.” He said as he stroked her ass. “You’d deserve to be spanked to the blood for kissing another man in front of me.” She moaned at his words. she arched her back, silently begging for more. He let out a soft chuckle and instead of giving her what she wanted, he took his hand off her ass. She cried out, mourning the loss of his hand.

He wrapped her long golden hair around his wrist, pulling at it. He made her look at him in the mirror as he slid the strap of her dress, exposing her bare breast. Aelin hated wearing a bra, and stopping wearing one did wonders for them.

The man took one in his hand, playing with her nipple as he used his other hand to pull harder at her hair. “Beg for it,” He commanded but Aelin didn’t. Unhappy with her behavior, he slapped her breast, hard. He took her nipple between his fingers and twisted, making her cry out in pain. “If you don’t beg me, you brat, your pretty pussy is the next thing I will spank and I won’t stop until you come.”

“Gods, please,” she moaned, a tear falling from her eye. “Please, sir. Fuck me, I need you in me, sir.” She didn’t care how pathetic she sounded, she would die if she didn’t have this man in her.

“Celeana?” He asked as he made her panties slide down her legs.

“Sir?”

“You’re not allowed to come until I tell you to, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” He bent her over the sink and unbuckled his belt. Aelin wanted to see his cock, he had felt so big against her ass.

His tip teased her entrance and then her clit. She didn’t care if someone heard her moan as he slowly entered her. He was big, bigger than any of the men she ever had. He buried himself to the hilt, groaning as her walls spasmed around him. It hurt to have him inside of her, but she welcomed and enjoyed the pain, and he knew it.

That’s why he didn’t wait for her to adjust and started thrusting into her, hard. Her eyes shut, focusing entirely on the feeling of him filling her.

She was shaking so much she didn’t know how her legs kept holding her. He pulled out and entered her again, hard, his balls slapping her clit. “Your cunt feels so fucking good,” He moaned, going faster, harder. His hand slammed on her ass, tearing another cry out of her. She was close.

He made her rise, hanging the angle of his cock, keeping her from falling with a hand around her throat. Delicately, he tightened his grip, and Aelin’s eyes rolled. His other hand found her clit.

“Sir,” she moaned, trying to hold her orgasm back.

“What is it, baby?” He was breathless. “Use your words, Celeana.”

“Please, can I come?” She prayed to every gods in the world he would let her come, but when she opened her eyes and found him smirking she knew her prayers were useless.

He only said “No,” and thrust faster in her, chasing his own orgasm.

Aelin wished she had a name to moan as she tried to focus on everything but the feeling of this man in her pussy and his finger on her clit. She cried,  both in pain and pleasure as he kept going, hitting that spot deep inside of her nobody ever hit before

“Let go,” he grunted. “Come for me, Celeana.” His grip around her neck tightened even more and she lost control. She screamed, loudly, as she fell over that cliff of pleasure. Barely noticing she squirted. He kept thrusting into her and came a second later, spilling himself inside of her. Both leaned on the sink, trying to take their breath.

He pulled out of her and made her sit on the sink. Her back rested against the mirror, too tired to do anything by herself. He got dressed and took some paper to clean her up, she whimpered, too sensitive to be touched. He softly apologized, kissing her shoulder as he helped her get her dress back in place.

“Think you would want to do this again?” He asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. There was only curiosity and desire in his eyes, not demands.

“Sorry,” She gave him a small smile. “I’m not from here and anyway, I don’t really do more than one nightstand.” Gods forbid anyone ever gets attached. He only nodded and gave her a small smile full of understanding.

“Will I ever get your name?” She teased him, earning a soft laugh from him.

“I think I‘d like to keep some mystery.”

------------

“We’re late,” Fenrys stated as they both entered the elevator.

“We’re fashionably late,” Aelin corrected him and he snorted. Both of them were past the point of fashionably late. Elide would be mad at her, she knew it, but Lorcan would be too and she kind of liked the sound of that.

“She’s going to kill you,” Aedion warned as he met them in the hall. Aelin quickly took him and Lysandra in her arms and started walking to the reception room.

“She won’t be physically violent, she won’t take the risk to ruin her bridesmaid look.”

“It’s Elide we’re talking about, it’s not physical violence I would worry about if I was you.” Lysandra chuckled, of course, she would find it funny. Aelin rolled her eyes but laughed along with her friend. Soon they were in the room, they were careful not to make noises, not wanting to drag attention to them.

She looked at her watch and sighed, one hour late wasn’t that bad, was it? At least, Fenrys would suffer from Elide’s rage if it came to that. Aelin took a glass of champagne and walked to Elide and Lorcan. Lorcan was talking to someone but she couldn’t see who because this bastard was just too tall. “Ellie,” Aelin started, taking the small woman in her arms. Maybe affection will make her less angry?

“You bitch!” Elide whisper-shouted, pushing Aelin away from her. Well, her plan definitely didn’t work.

“Elide, you look ravishing,” Fenrys winked and Aelin had to use all her focus not to laugh at Elide’s angry face. She was almost shaking as if it was taking everything in her not to yell at Aelin and Fenrys. If she laughed right now she was kicked out of the wedding, she knew it. Elide seemed to relax a little as Lorcan’s arms wrapped around her shoulders.

“Galathynius, Moonbeam.” He nodded. “So your plane didn’t crash.” She said with a point of humor but Aelin didn’t care and flipped him off. Fenrys just softly laughed and put an arm around Aelin’s shoulder, a normal way for him to show his affection.

“You two didn’t meet Lorcan’s best man.” Elide said as the man who talked with Lorcan turned around. Aelin’s heart stopped. No, no, no, no. “Rowan, this is Aelin, my sister. Aelin, this is Rowan, Lorcan’s best friend.”

This had to be some kind of sick joke, there was no way the man who fucked her last night was Lorcan’s best man. The universe really hated her. His eyes widened when he saw her and even more when Elide said Aelin’s name. Her real name.

Fenrys burst out laughing loudly, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

—————

tag list:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

*

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

*

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

[hamsterboos]

Met Him Last Night

I literally speed wrote this in an hour so I'm sorry if this is a mess lmaooo but hopefully this will be continued, we'll see :D If anyone wants to be tagged in upcoming updates to this, please let me know! Just be warned, this first chapter does have (not very specific) details of a panic attack!

Title is from Demi Lovato's Met Him Last Night

Word Count: 2181 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 17 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Bodyguard AU

~~~~~

Aelin was just about ready to murder someone, and that someone would most definitely be her cousin.

“Aelin, I’m serious, you need protection.”

She growled as she slammed her palms down on the dining table, loudly, as she stood up. “And I’m serious when I say that I need sleep. This stupid bodyguard business can wait two days for me to hibernate.”

Aedion also stood up, mirroring her stance as he leaned in closer to her. “Your life is in literal danger, Aelin. I hope you understand what that means.”

“It was one instance!” she insisted, pushing herself away from the table and moving to the kitchen to put her empty dinner plate into the sink. She was so exhausted from all the travel she’d done in the last few days that all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep — dishes be damned.

“One instance of the guy mailing you pictures of you from the hotel and on the sidewalk,” he responded, moving beside her. He was following her on purpose to make sure she couldn’t escape him, and Aelin was pissed off that he knew her so well to do that. “He’s been sending you those weird as hell letters for years.”

“It’s not exactly a trade secret which hotels I stay in when I’m going on book tours, Aedion. You know that.”

“If you stopped posting Instagram pictures with the hotel in the background, then it would be more of a secret considering that you are a public figure now. Besides, it’s only going to get worse now that Crescent City season 1 press shoots start soon. Your face will be more famous than just in the book world, Aelin. People will see articles of the author behind the next biggest fantasy show on television. Things are already bad, and we shouldn’t let it get past that.”

“Okay, fine, but why can’t we talk about this later? My body clock thinks it’s the middle of the freaking night, and I haven’t slept in fifteen hours. Please get out of my face so I can sleep.”

“Aelin, if you don’t take this seriously, I’m going to do it for you.”

“Oh dear cousin, owner of a security company, please do. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with it, especially now that I’m going to be much busier.”

“You’re so annoying,” he grumbled as he stalked towards the door.

“Love you too!” she called after him, finally, finally, heading towards her bedroom. Fleetfoot trotted after her happily, and Aelin snorted as her dog’s wet snout kept bumping into her bare calves. The dog was way too excited to see her after two long months away from home with Aelin travelling all over the world for the release of her latest book. It wasn’t like she could deny the fact that she had missed her dear, sweet dog so much as well, so when Aelin flopped down onto her soft bed for the first time in months, she let Fleetfoot join her.

Fleetfoot circled the same spot three times before curling up against Aelin, her tail slowly thumping against the mattress as Aelin got comfortable as well. The feeling of warmth from her dog and the happiness from being in her own bed after so long had Aelin falling asleep faster than she normally did, and she was just about entirely asleep when she barely heard the click of her front door opening.

Figuring it was Aedion, she just tried to drown out the sound, not having the willpower nor the strength to move. He could let himself out after taking whatever he had probably forgotten at her place, and Aelin would be happily dozing for the next several hours.

Until a crash broke the haze Aelin was in, and her eyes shot open. Heart pounding in her chest, she looked at Fleetfoot who was staring at the closed door with alarm as well.

Aelin was confused. Aedion was careful to not drop ceramic or glass objects within the house, knowing how much her mother would always be on the two of them growing up to be careful with such things, and it didn’t help that she was still half asleep. Nothing made sense to her.

Slowly getting out of bed, she winced as she stood up entirely, her feet aching after days of standing in heels. Aelin walked over to the bedroom door and creaked it open, and she scanned the immediate vicinity for Aedion, trying to see if he was anywhere near the living room or corridor. When she didn’t see him, she creeped out of her room, trying to be quiet but the sluggishness had already taken over body as she stumbled into the wall a few times. Fleetfoot was at her tail, but Aelin forced her to stay before turning the corner into the living room. If there was glass on the ground, she didn’t want it getting in her dog’s paws.

Once Aelin turned the corner, she immediately stopped, finding the scene in front of her unwelcome and incredibly jarring.

There was a man standing in her room, one that didn’t have the same blond hair she did, and the broken object was a picture frame, the shards of glass littered about on the ground as he gripped a photo of her and Fleetfoot.

Aelin swallowed slowly, the saliva getting stuck in her throat as her mouth went dry, as she realized that a man had broken into her home.

As quietly as she could, she placed a hand over her mouth, trying not to breathe too loudly as she quickly made her way back into her bedroom, herding Fleetfoot with her, and she locked the door to the bedroom. Wildly glancing around, she took the chair from her vanity and jammed it under the door knob so the door wouldn’t open.

“What do I do,” she whispered, scared of her mind as she sat down on her bed. She was shaking, that much was sure as Fleetfoot tried to lick her hands and face in an attempt to calm her down. How was Aelin supposed to calm down when there was someone in her house?

Realizing that Aedion must’ve not gotten far, she lunged for her phone on the bed and dialed Aedion’s number.

“Weren’t you supposed to be asleep?” was his greeting, but all she could get out at first was a shuddering gasp.

“Aedion,” she whispered.

“Aelin? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice immediately alert.

“There’s someone in my apartment.”

“What?!”

“Hurry, please,” she cried, trying to muffle her voice to make it seem that she wasn’t at home. She didn’t know if the man had known that she was in the apartment, but she didn’t want him to find out.

“Aelin, listen to me, you’ll be fine. I’m almost there. Are you still in your room?”

“I, uh, I’m in my bedroom with Fleetfoot. I went out when there was a crash, and then ran back to my room,” she managed to get out. “I locked the door and jammed a chair underneath.”

“Go into the bathroom and lock that door too,” he urged, and she got up to move to the bathroom. “If he manages to get your room door unlocked, then at least you have some more time. I’m almost there, but you need to call 911, too.”

“Aedion, I can’t—” Aelin gasped out, leaning against the bathroom counter after locking the door behind her and her dog. Her breaths were coming in faster, and there wasn’t anything she could do to control the way her eyesight was beginning to blur. “I can’t let him know I’m in here.”

“He won’t find out,” he urged.

“But Aedion,” she cried, “the plates in the sink. He’ll see them, and he’ll know I was home. He’ll know I’m here.” The pounding in her chest had gotten louder than what Aedion was saying, and all she could do was sob into her hands. She wasn’t safe anymore outside, but now she wasn’t safe in her own room.

“Aelin! Aelin, it’s okay, I’m here.”

The next thing Aelin heard were shouts and yells before it got all quiet. She clambered up to her feet, throwing the door to the bathroom open before trying to get the chair back out, but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck, and her limbs weren’t cooperating. There wasn’t anything she could do, and she tugged at the chair with a cry.

“Come on,” she cried, tugging at it more before it finally came free, clattering to the ground. Unlocking the door, she took a few unsteady steps before Aedion came into view, the man lying on the ground unconscious. Aelin lost all control of her body, and she fell into Aedion’s arm as he ran for her, and that was the last thing she saw before blackness encompassed her.

~~~

When Aelin awoke several hours later, it was to the commotion coming from downstairs. At first, she blinked a few times, trying to readjust to where she was because it wasn’t the drab hotel room view she’d gotten accustomed to, and once her brain was awake enough to process that she was in Aedion and Lysandra’s spare bedroom, she got out of bed and padded over to the bathroom to brush her teeth and her hair. If she was going to show her face after a major panic attack that caused her to faint for a few minutes, she should at least look decent.

Fleetfoot was, thankfully, also with her in the room, and Aelin sat on the ground for a few minutes just to hug her dog before getting up and going to the living room.

As soon as she made her entrance, everyone went silent, the only sound was Fleetfoot’s paws as she went straight for Lysandra to nose at her for treats.

“Okay,” Aelin swallowed. “I get it. I need a bodyguard, but at least that guy was arrested,” she continued, hopefully. Aedion beckoned her to sit next to him, and it was then that she realized that besides her cousin and his wife, Elide was also there and a man that she’d never met before. He was striking, to say the least. Silver hair with a sharp jawline and beautifully green eyes. His short-sleeved shirt also showed off swirls of tattoo creeping up his bicep, and Aelin had to say that she was intrigued by who this man was.

“Look,” her cousin started, directing her attention back to him. His face showed concern, and she was suddenly worried that this entire ordeal might not be over. “That man wasn’t the same one who stalked you. He was just a burglar trying to score after noticing that no one had been going in or out of the apartment for a while. It just helped that the security guard downstairs is of no use, so he broke in.”

Aelin was having a hard time processing all this information being thrown at her. “So you’re telling me that it was just...unlucky?”

“I have been telling you to move,” he unhelpfully added, and she let him know exactly that.

“Anyway, we’ve come up with a solution,” Elide butt in. “Aelin, meet Rowan Whitethorn. He works in Aedion’s company. He was working for a different client for a few years, but they switched companies, so he’s now free to protect you.”

“Hey,” she greeted without any of her previous enthusiasm.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Galanthynius,” Rowan responded, and she noticed the slight accent to his words.

“Doranelle?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I will be protecting you from now on, uh, in a close manner.”

Aelin slightly jerked in her spot at his shy demeanor over his words, and the way he said it caught her attention.

“What do you mean?” No one answered her at first, peaking her anxiety again. “Aedion?” she asked, looking to him for an explanation.

“Since it’s also not safe for you to be at home alone, we’re going to have Rowan pretend to be your boyfriend.”

~~~

Aelin stepped out of the car, hand placed in Rowan’s as he led her into the paparazzi filled lot that led to the building where the final press shoots and poster shoots would be taking place for her show. It was still absolutely insane that someone she had written was actually going to be a TV show for the whole world to see, but another absolutely insane thing was the fact that she was pressed up against Rowan’s hard body, trying to pretend to be absolutely in love with him.

“Who is this man?” she heard one of the journalists ask, and she wanted to say that she didn’t exactly know either considering she had just met him last night, but this was the perfect opportunity for the world to know that she had a boyfriend.

Technically.

Smiling, she pulled Rowan to a stop as she turned to the vague direction from where she heard the voice. “This is my boyfriend.”

[elentiyawhitethorn]

When Passion Rules the Game | Part Seven

CW: NSFW, language

AN: Wow, I wrote seven chapters in seven days and I feel so accomplished! This fic has been so fun to write, and I hope everybody enjoyed. (Last chapter btw)

Part Six//Masterlist//2835 words

By some miracle, Aelin made it through the rest of the day. She introduced herself to Nox, showed him the ropes, and got some work done. And as soon as she had completed the day’s tasks, she just about bolted out to her car, headed to Rowan’s apartment.

There was no hesitation in Aelin’s mind as she firmly knocked on Rowan’s door. He would let her in, explain, and she would realize that this was all some cosmic joke.

Aelin heard footsteps approach the door, and she braced herself, straightening her back and plastering a smile on her face.

But the door never opened. After a moment, Aelin heard the footsteps retreat, and she blinked in confusion.

She knocked again.

Another minute passed. No more noises sounded within the apartment, and Aelin started to scowl. What right did he have to ignore her? She was his boss! Well, not anymore—but that was beside the point.

Aelin reached for the handle and jiggled it, but it was locked.

“Rowan,” she called. “Please let me in.”

“Dammit, go away, Aelin.”

She hadn’t been expecting a response, and to hear that animosity toward her frightened her. Rowan must have quit because she was sleeping with him, and he wasn’t comfortable with the situation. Aelin had never done anything like this before, never unintentionally harassed someone out of their job, and her heart started aching. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

Coming to terms with the fact that Rowan wasn’t going to let her in the door, Aelin pulled a bobby-pin from her hair and inserted it into the lock. She had been a rambunctious teenager, always causing poor Aedion and her parents trouble, and picking a lock was second nature to her.

She smiled internally as the last tumbler fell into place and the lock clicked. Aelin absentmindedly discard the bobby pin in her purse and turned the knob.

Rowan was sitting on the couch, hunched over with his head in his hands, clearly upset about something. His head snapped up the instant Aelin walked in, and his eyes narrowed. “How did you—”

Aelin shut the door, cutting him off. “Why did you quit.” She was slightly angry at herself, and it came out in her tone.

Rowan sighed. “I resigned.”

“Same difference. Tell me why.”

Rowan stood up, but still kept his distance. “I found a new job. I thought it would be a better opportunity for me.”

Aelin scoffed. “You were just relocated to Terrasen. Don’t tell me you’re moving again.”

“I’m not moving. I got a job at Salvaterre Enterprises. It pays more.”

“If you wanted a raise, I—”

“I left. It’s done. There is nothing to say.”

Aelin frowned, trying to cover up the fact that her heart was fracturing in her chest. “But—”

“Do you always break into the homes of employees who decide they don’t want to work for you anymore?”

The ice in Rowan’s voice had Aelin trembling. “I want to know if you’re leaving because of me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re sleeping with me!” Aelin yelled. “And you’re quitting because you’re worried about it or you’re not comfortable with it or something and I can’t just let you do that! I can’t just sexually harass one of my employees and let them leave.”

Rowan’s eyes widened. “You’re not… Aelin, this is not your fault.”

“Then what is this?” she rasped. “Why did you even apply at Salvaterre Enterprises anyway?”

She could see the hesitation in his eyes. Rowan took a step forward, then paused. “I can’t… I just needed to go. I’ve never been uncomfortable around you, Aelin, I swear.”

“Then why, Rowan, did you go? Because I’m going to keep believing this is my fault if you don’t prove otherwise.”

He hissed out a breath and turned around, running his hands through his hair. “It’s because I…”

“Because you what?”

“I can’t… I shouldn’t say.”

“Tell me,” Aelin’s demanded. She dropped her purse on the floor so that she could cross her arms.

“Because I’m in love with you!” Rowan shouted, spinning back around. “Because I love how passionate you are about your work, and how funny you are, and how you pretend to have an attitude but spend your whole life trying to help people. I love the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re nervous, and how red your face gets when you’re embarrassed, and I even love the way you eat your gods-damn bagels with a fork. And I can’t do it anymore!”

Aelin couldn’t summon words. Rowan loved her?

He was breathing hard, surprise evident on his face. Maybe he hadn’t meant to say all that.

“I think you should go, Aelin. Don’t feel bad. You’re not to blame.” Rowan sighed, turning his head.

He expected her to leave. To walk out and pretend this had never happened, to forget about him. Aelin didn’t know what she was going to do next, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to forget about him.

Rowan took a deep breath, then looked back at Aelin, who wasn’t breathing at all. “I’m sorry, Aelin. But I need you to leave now.”

Aelin didn’t do that.

Rowan gasped in surprise as he felt Aelin’s lips crash into his. She had mindlessly surged forward with no intentions of stopping herself. Aelin fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him closer, tangling her tongue with his. Rowan kissed her back for what could have been a minute or an hour; Aelin was too lost in him to tell. When he finally pulled back, they were both panting.

“What does that mean?” Rowan gasped out.

“I think I might be in love with you, too.”

Rowan yanked her back to his mouth, and Aelin felt herself melting into his touch, trying to get closer and closer, touching as much of his body as she could.

They parted again, and Rowan raised his hand to her face. “You really feel the same?” His thumb stroked her cheek and Aelin leaned into the touch.

“Of course I do. You’re amazing and kind and hilarious, and despite your protests to the contrary, you’re a total sweetheart. I love you, Rowan. I should have noticed it a lot sooner, and I must have been blind not to until now, but I see it now. I love you.”

Rowan leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, too. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve cared about people, but no one has ever driven me so insane.”

Aelin laughed. “I drive you insane? I have never broken so many rules because of one man. And that’s really saying something.”

“Oh, I know,” he replied, their noses brushing. “No goody two shoes knows how to pick locks.”

“Don’t ask me about that,” Aelin said, laughing. “Or I’ll ask you why you have a picture of a scowling teenage boy with chains dangling from his jeans hanging up on the wall.”

Rowan groaned. “My mom made me hang that up when I moved in.”

“Oh, you’re a mama’s boy, then?” Aelin teased.

Rowan smiled, but the expression turned fond as he leaned forward that last half-inch and kissed her. It was nothing like any of the kisses they’d shared before; this one was soft and sweet. This one was full of love.

When they pulled apart this time, Aelin whispered, “I still can’t believe you love me.”

“Neither can I,” he replied softly. “I never expected you to say it back. Though I’ll admit, I wasn’t surprised to find you stubbornly knocking on my door.”

Aelin smiled, then tugged Rowan down to the couch, plumping onto his lap. “So now that we’ve gotten the love confessions out of the way, maybe we can try to be in a relationship? Be together?”

Rowan smiled. “I would love that. But I might have to dump you if you ever call me a sweetheart again.”

Aelin let out a choked laugh. “But you’re so sweet. Like a little cinnamon bun.”

“I really hope you did not just say that.”

Aelin grinned. “Now that we have all this sorted, you’ll come back to the company? Nox was good at the job, but he doesn’t have your work ethic, and I had to tell him how to—”

Rowan smiled sadly and interrupted her. “Babe, you would be my boss. We may be able to keep a lid on friends with benefits, but you think no one’s going to be upset to hear you’re in a relationship with me?”

“I don’t care what people think,” Aelin insisted, despite the sinking feeling in her gut.

He tugged her farther onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s still wrong. I can’t do it.”

“But… Rowan, you can’t give up your job for me.”

“I’m not. And if it came down to it, I probably wouldn’t. And neither would you, I would guess, should you ever be in that position. Your dedication to your career is one of the things I love about you.” At Aelin’s sad nod, he added, “But I got job with Salvaterre Enterprises, remember?”

Aelin rasied her brow.

“I wasn’t lying,” Rowan said with a grin. “I got a good position there, nothing worse than I had with you. I’ll miss working with you, but I’m excited to be working there, and I’m excited to be with you.”

Aelin bit her lip. “Okay, but I don’t care that you already got hired. I’m sending a recommendation for you. Not just because I love you—never because of that—but because you are an amazing worker. Besides, I know Lorcan.”

Rowan blinked in surprise. “Lorcan Salvaterre?”

Aelin flashed a grin. “We went to college together. Like you, he pretends to be an ass, but is super sweet.” Rowan scowled, and she laughed. “And he’s head-over-heels for Elide. I’ve been trying to set them up for ages.”

“Wow,” Rowan said.

“Underestimating my connections?” Aelin asked snarkily.

“Just shocked that you have friends with money. After all, you just about swiped my savings last time we played poker.”

Aelin smirked. “Lorcan always paid up in other ways.”

“I really hope you didn’t just imply…” Rowan trailed off.

“Imply what?” Aelin asked innocently.

“Did you sleep with my new boss?” Rowan asked, dreading the answer.

She laughed. “No, I was just kidding. I made him do my homework for a month every time he lost.”

Rowan breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised you would trust someone to control what grade you get.”

Aelin snorted. “Oh, I wouldn’t. I turned in my own work. I just wanted to make him do it for the fun of it. He went ballistic when he found out I never turned any of his hours’ worth of work in. He’s been trying to get me back for it ever since.”

“Um, perhaps I won’t tell him I’m in a relationship with you, then?”

Aelin cackled.

After another hour of chatting and laughing, Aelin decided she would tell her cousin and friends about this tomorrow, and Rowan said he would do the same by calling his mom. She could barely contain the joy that flowed through her thinking that people would know about them, that he cared about her enough to tell his mother already.

The hand that Rowan had resting on her thigh started stroking her, and Aelin started trying to recall what underwear she had put on his morning. Hopefully something nice.

Aelin ground down on Rowan’s lap, and he stood in one sudden movement, pulling her legs around his waist. Aelin sighed against his neck as he carried her to the bedroom. It sure as hell wasn’t the first time she’d been in here, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Aelin smiled into Rowan’s shirt, but that smile dissolved when Rowan threw her onto the bed. She smiled up at him prettily, the epitome of virtuous and wholesome. Rowan just snorted and said, “Take your clothes off and touch yourself.”

Feeling blood race to her face, Aelin sensually stripped off each piece of clothing, a bit more urgently than she’d been attempting to do. It was hard to act sexy when Rowan was shirtless and smirking at her.

Once she finished, Aelin lay back and spread her legs slightly. She let one hand tug on several strands of hair, delighting in the way Rowan’s eyes tracked her hands.

Then Aelin licked her lips and moved one hand to her stomach to stroke the smooth skin. She smirked at Rowan as she moved her other hand to her mouth and sucked on her thumb, making sure he was able to see as her tongue swirled around the digit. Aelin brought her wet thumb to her nipple and rubbed it roughly, parting her lips in a breathy moan.

She noticed the bulge in Rowan’s pants becoming more apparent as she played with her nipple and teased him with the hand moving on her lower stomach, and she grinned. “Get on with it,” Rowan growled.

Laughing, Aelin spread her legs farther and trailed her hand down, pressing a finger into her entrance. She immediately gasped and inserted another finger, unused to having control over when she got what she wanted.

Knowing exactly what she was thinking as she started thrusting her fingers harder, Rowan smirked and pulled his shirt off. No matter that seeing him watching her made her even wetter, Aelin couldn’t concentrate on what she was doing when she looked at him. She averted her eyes to ceiling and started pumping her fingers in deeper, groaning.

But it was not to be. “Look at me,” Rowan commanded, and Aelin had no choice but to obey.

Holding his gaze, Aelin thrust her hips into her hand and and brought the second hand down the rub furiously at her clit. She was moaning now, making more noises than she did when she was by herself, turned on by the way Rowan rid himself of his pants and started pumping his own length.

“Stop,” Rowan ordered, right as she felt release nearing. She couldn’t. She couldn’t stop. She was so close, and just few more thrusts and she would be at the edge and—

Aelin’s hands were forcibly removed from her pussy, and she cried out as she was flipped over on the bed and spanked.

“What did I tell you?” Rowan’s voice was the sharpened edge of a blade, and Aelin shivered.

“You told me to stop,” she whispered.

Rowan’s hand smacked her ass once more. “And did you?”

Aelin whimpered. “No, sir.”

He spanked her again, his hand stinging the sensation flesh of her bottom. “Why not?”

“Because,” Aelin rasped, trying to summon even a single coherent thought, “I needed to come. I needed to.”

“Hmm,” Rowan said, trailing his finger along the curve of her ass. She shivered at the sensation. “But you knew I wouldn’t let you. And look where we are now.”

Aelin squirmed in his grasp. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” He brought his hand down, the slap sound filling the air. “Or are you just saying that so I’ll stop?”

“I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.” Aelin clung to the sheets, burying her face.

Rowan hummed thoughtfully and spanked her again. But before Aelin could beg him to stop again, callused hands gripped her thighs and spread them, Rowan’s cock filling her almost instantly.

Aelin moaned loudly into the sheets. “Rowan, gods.”

He grabbed her hips, pulling her onto her knees and farther onto his cock. She whined and lifted her ass higher in the air.

Rowan’s grip was bruising as he slammed into her. He started pounding into her, and Aelin wondered how she was supposed to walk into work tomorrow and concentrate on her job, let alone walk at all.

The fingers Rowan had on her hips dug harder into her skin, and Aelin felt even wetter knowing that he was marking her right now. His cock was hardening fully inside of Aelin, and the immense awareness she had of him was driving her crazy.

Rowan’s balls slapped her pussy and she screamed into the sheets, her orgasm forcing its way over her body in a shattering earthquake of pleasure. Rowan kept moving, fucking her senseless as she shook and screamed, finally coming and spilling into her.

Once he separated their bodies and rolled over, Aelin turned on her side and put both an arm and a leg across his body. “I love you.”

Rowan kissed her neck. “I love you, too, darling.”

Aelin snuggled closer and, instead of reflecting on her previous shortsightedness and poor judgment, thought about how much she was looking forward to a life being teased, laughed at, fucked, and loved by Rowan.

Little did Aelin know, Elide would owe Dorian twenty bucks after losing the bet about how long it would take them to confess their feelings. What an interesting day tomorrow would be.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@mis-lil-red

@morganofthewildfire

@nehemikkele

@pagemasters

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thenerdandfandoms

@theysayitscrazy

@yesdreamblog

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 6

The final part!! I hope this is a satisfying conclusion! Thank you so much to everyone who has reblogged/commented/shared - it has meant so much. Special thank you again to @morganofthewildfire I'd still be working away at this fic if it wasn't for you, I don't know I ever would have finished it off. Your comments and analysis helped me so much and made this fic better than I could have alone, I'm so grateful.

13k - masterlist - ao3

--

There are five weeks between the eventful wrap party and her first day shooting the Netflix miniseries in Antica. Five weeks for Aelin to sort her shit.

It’s ambitious, and probably unattainable, but she needs a goal.

She needs something to draw her mind away from Rifthold and the director she knows is no longer there.

She gives herself a week of self pity. A week of lying around her sparsely decorated and impersonal Orynth apartment dwelling and pointedly ignoring the headlines she knows have been released. Elide let her know only one picture was captured of her with tears in her eyes leaving the party. Only one and gods bless Elide she shut it down.

Aelin lies on her uncomfortable couch in well-worn pyjamas with unwashed hair and runs through the photos on her phone of her and Fenrys, her and Manon, and the group of them together on set doing whatever shit they used to do.

She spends more time than she should like that. She sits there until her coffee table is overflowing with takeaway wrappers and Aedion and Elide have stopped texting more than once a day. She’s awful for ignoring them but she’s still mortified.

She hasn’t been able to look Aedion in the eyes since he dropped her back at her apartment after their long flight home from Rifthold. He didn’t say much. After he managed to again get her out of the party with minimal press she had cried, curled up between Aedion and Lysandra in their bed, and he didn’t offer judgement or instruction.

He just held her, whispering words she can’t remember but appreciates anyway. Now she hasn’t replied to any of his texts.

She hasn’t texted Fenrys or Manon either. She doesn’t know what to say.

She knows Fenrys jumped immediately into another movie, an action movie she knows he’s been chomping at the bit to get training for, and Manon into the second series of her show that she’s probably too famous for now.

They’re busy. They’ll understand. At least that’s what she tells herself.

The worst thing she does in that week is pour over the photos she has of Rowan. She didn’t realise she had so many but her camera roll is full of silver and green.

There are photos of just him, looking like Rowan, tall and handsome and understatedly happy, smiling covert little smiles at Aelin behind the camera. He was used to her instructing him to pose by the end of filming, she loved snapping away as he did anything. Eating, sleeping, smiling, everything - if it was Rowan she wanted it captured.

Now every photo is a knife to the chest.

The ones of the two of them together are worse, they twist the knife, pain splicing through her until she can hardly breathe. There are pictures of their cheeks pressed together, eyes shining, some serious, some silly. In all of them Aelin can clearly see her own happiness.

She can’t stop looking at them even as tears swell in her eyes and her throat gets tight.

For one week.

Until it’s been seven days since her flight landed back in Orynth and she gets up off her couch and deletes them. She almost doesn’t, her thumb hovers over the button for a good minute before she presses down but then it’s done and they’re gone. She showers and changes her clothes, she throws away all the rubbish on her coffee table and makes a plan.

Filming the movie with all of them it was easy to feel better than she did before, surrounded by new and exciting things, new people who didn’t know her before or treat her differently because of it. It was easy to lose herself in who she was there and with them.

Now though, she’s back to real life and real life lasts for an uneventful three weeks.

She tries what she can, she reads, she runs, she bakes, she teaches herself how to knit. None of it is satisfying and it's hard to make it stick. It’s all boring and never quite captures her attention the way she hopes. Never captures her attention enough to tear it away from Rowan and Rifthold.

A week before she flies out to Antica it changes.

She stumbles upon the change, completely accidentally, and she doesn’t realise what she’s needed until it's right in front of her.

Her usual run route is obstructed by construction and so she takes a left where she usually takes a right, heading down into the west side of the city, the side she doesn’t often frequent.

She used to. She used to spend hours strolling the streets letting the warmth of the sun and Sam’s hand in hers settle into her skin as they observed the numerous bakeries and small boutiques. Thankfully the scenery appears to have changed since.

The chill breeze of the September Orynth air teases the loose strands of hair tickling her face as she comes to a stop outside the sleek shop front. The wooden panels are painted a dark, glossy black and the windows are polished so brightly they reflect what’s left of the sunlight.

Music of Mistward the sign reads in curved, white lettering.

She can see her reflection in the shop window, her cheeks flushed, hair unruly, her running gear nowhere near to what would be appropriate attire for the shop dripping in class but she can’t turn away.

A bell tinkles as she pushes through the door, her headphones gripped tight in her fist as the gentle jazz playing over the sound system greets her. She doesn’t like jazz, it’s not her thing, but along with the musk of wood in the air it’s soothing in welcoming her in.

She passes walls of guitars and violins until she reaches the instrument that caught her eye. It’s sleek, black lid propped open revealing the elegant strings, pulled tight in neat lines. The sharp contrast of the keys against each other, bright against the deep black of the case. Her fingers ghost over them, dying to press down.

She hasn’t played since those days in Rowan’s Doranelle home. She’s wanted to, longed to feel the cool keys under her fingertips and the flood of the music pouring out of her, but the cheap keyboard in her Orynth apartment wouldn’t do Rowan’s beautiful instrument justice.

Aelin would rather not play at all than attempt a cheap imitation of what she felt there.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice sounds behind her, low and raspy but cheerful all the same.

She turns, taking in the older man, his grey hair cut short and his classic shirt and slacks pressed crisp. She glances back to the piano before facing him fully.

“Stunning,” she breathes.

The man steps forwards and offers her his hand. She slips her hand into his and he pumps firmly as he introduces himself.

“Emrys,” he says. “Welcome to Music of Mistward.”

“Aelin,” she says, surprised to hear her voice thick.

“Great to meet you, Aelin,” Emrys says with an ancient smile. He nods towards the piano. “Do you play?”

“No,” she says and Emrys’ smile flickers. “Yes, I mean I used to. I want to,” is what she settles on.

He nods, satisfied, before taking a step closer to the piano. He runs a hand over the top, almost reverently and smiles to himself.

“Antique,” he starts, “almost one hundred years old but well loved. I acquired it recently - here we deal mostly in antique instruments, it’s a passion for both myself and my husband. The previous owner only sold it to me when she inherited it and didn’t know how to play, she wanted it to find a good home.”

He shares a smile with her as if she’s in on the joke but her breathing still hasn’t settled.

“Satin Ebony finish,” Emrys continues, “eighty-eight keys, all original but preserved to the highest quality. Accompanying bench, cut with refreshed velvet. I don’t know in all my years I’ve seen such a fine instrument as old as this.”

Aelin glances back to the piano, it’s big, it won’t fit in her apartment in Orynth but she doesn’t care. She can… adjust. She hasn’t felt a pull like this in a while, she doesn’t want to deny it when she does.

“How much?” she almost demands from the man in front of her.

He appraises her and she knows what he sees. Her bedraggled state and the tension through her shoulders doesn’t give the impression of someone with this much cash to throw around. She abruptly ignores that the way she probably can afford this is because of Rowan’s movie.

When he doesn’t speak she repeats herself, more firmly. “How much?”

“Our price includes delivery and tuning on arrival.” He seems apprehensive of telling her the truth. Aelin waits.

When he finally reveals the figure Aelin blinks. And then she extends her hand. “I’ll take it.”

To his credit Emrys just nods, shaking her hand. “You don’t want to at least play it first?”

Aelin feels the smirk she hasn’t worn in a while creep onto her face. “Is there a risk you’re pulling a fast one on me?”

Emrys returns her smile, a playful glint in his eye. “Not a chance, Aelin. Please follow me to the register where I can take your details.”

Aelin almost stumbles. Almost, but then recovers.

“Any chance I can pay a deposit and then let you know where you’ll be delivering sometime soon?”

Emrys winks knowingly. “Absolutely.”

She follows him to the counter, signs away part of a disgustingly large total of money but leaves with a sense of satisfaction. It’s an accomplishment, a step for purely selfish reasons.

The first thing she does when she leaves the shop is call Elide.

Aelin meets her new therapist two days before she flies out to Antica.

She hasn’t called her old one in months and thinks that’s probably a sign. And she’s all about changes at the moment.

She isn’t shooting in Antica for too long, only a couple of months until she’s back in Orynth and then back to Rifthhold for press. Her stomach drops everytime the thought wanders into her head.

She’s excited to be back in Rifthold, but the company is daunting.

Fenrys and Manon will easily be pissed at her disappearance. She knows Manon will play aloof but she also knows she’ll be upset, Fenrys too. Aelin didn’t mean to hurt them, didn’t mean to drop off the face of the Earth, and she knows she’s let them down but Fenrys and Manon remind her of Rowan. She couldn’t trust the conversation not to eventually steer towards him and Aelin isn’t ready for that.

Their break-up feels weirdly anticlimactic. After everything they built to, Aelin just dipped.

She knows it seems that way to Rowan at least. She hasn’t texted him, or rang him or anything since the party. She’s wanted to, wanted more than anything to hear his voice as she cried, but it’s not fair to him to drag it out and she knows that. She knew when she drew the line she had to stay on her side of it, no matter how much it hurt.

She had cried until her head pounded and her throat was raw. She cried until her eyes itched with no tears left to fall, until all that came out of her was hoarse screeches as she ached to hear him call her Fireheart one last time.

But no one needs to know that, she had kept it as hidden as she could.

She definitely didn’t need any more paparazzi pictures of her with red-rimmed eyes looking downtrodden. She couldn’t bear the thought of Rowan, or worse her mother, seeing them.

She knows Fenrys and Manon; Aedion, Lysandra and Elide would see through her flimsy excuses and so it was easier to stay quiet.

She’s not thinking about facing them yet. She supposes that will be something that likely comes up with this new therapist, but so far on her own, she’s choosing avoidance.

She gets Maeve’s number from Dorian, and she comes highly recommended by a number of Dorian’s other high profile clients. She’s well-versed in non-disclosure agreements, secret sessions and back street exits; she feels like the perfect fit for Aelin.

Unofficially, Dorian lets her know Maeve takes no shit, and that’s also just what Aelin needs.

They agree to online sessions while she’s in Antica, but Maeve recommended an initial meeting and Aelin is open to all of her suggestions.

Their first hour is not directly her most life changing but it’s a start.

“Welcome, Aelin,” Maeve says, sweeping an arm out towards the firm-looking, orange couch in the centre of the room.

Aelin takes a seat, mutters her thanks and glances around the room.

The room should feel cold with the exposed brick and minimalistic decor, the only furniture being the couch Aelin perches on, the almost regal armchair Maeve reclines in and a lamp, but it doesn’t and she gets comfortable tucking her feet beneath her thighs and leaning against the arm.

“So,” Maeve begins, surveying her in the way only a true professional can. “Let’s get started.”

Aelin feels bare beneath her gaze, and like everything about Maeve and her practise it should be unnerving but she just blinks against the scrutiny.

“Why are you here today? You could start with sharing why you have made this appointment.”

And isn’t that the million gold-mark question?

Aelin takes a deep breath through her nose and raises her chin.

“I don’t want to move backwards,” she admits. “Or maybe I just want to know I’ve actually moved forwards.”

Maeve’s expression stays calm, but Aelin knows she’d be smirking if she could. She’s well aware of how therapy works but even so, speaking her thoughts aloud can help to verify them in her own mind.

Aelin hopes so at least.

Their hour is over quickly and Aelin is resolved that Maeve is a good fit, reassured in Dorian’s claim that the woman takes no shit. Her all-knowing assessment of Aelin should have been unsettling but the frank dissection is what she needs.

Online therapy, especially fitting it around shooting might be a challenge but it’s for the best. As much as she values her independence and standing on her own two feet, Aelin is big enough to admit that facing her mother again may require some professional guidance. Seeing Rowan too, but again, she’s not thinking about that yet.

Antica is hot and Aelin is sweaty within seconds of stepping out of the air-conditioned luxury of the airport. That feeling lasts the entire time she’s there, disrupting the otherwise enjoyable time she has shooting the series.

Her new co-stars are fine, they invite her out with them and make her smile but she can’t help as though a part of her is always comparing them to who and what she left in Rifthold. Aelin tries her best to enjoy her time there with them, she hosts dinner parties and invites them to a game of Aedion’s but nothing quite hits the same as her time spent on The Crescent City.

She rationalises it to Maeve, that The Crescent City was a big turning point in her life and that it has nothing to do with Rowan, Fenrys or Manon, but she’s not sure she even believes it herself.

She spends the rest of her time in Antica trying to convince herself, and Maeve, that she’s moving past it. That she’s moving forwards or else she’ll move backwards. She’s not sure how much of it is futile.

The Crescent City is done, whether she likes it or not, and she can’t deny it changed her in ways she didn’t expect. It’s a hard pill to swallow that maybe it changed her beyond return to how she was before. She also can’t quite figure out whether she thinks that’s a bad thing or not.

They have a dinner for the core cast and crew, including Rowan, once they’re all back in Rifthold for the beginning of the press cycle. They have one night to reacquaint before they’re shoved into the whirlwind that is interviews, photoshoots and promotion.

She’s seen the trailer already and it’s just as she expected but more. It’s dark and dreary with flashes of brightness from herself and Fenrys and she’d want to watch it if she chanced a viewing as a member of the public.

What is surreal, is to see herself in a polished version of the film they were creating. Or at least a part of it.

She said each of the lines, rehearsed them over and over until they fell off her tongue without thought, but she still doesn’t recognise the girl in the trailer. A droplet of pride slips down her chest at the realisation that it’s not Aelin in the trailer but Feyre. She knows she’s good, has known it all along, but the realisation and reaffirmation is ecstasy better than any drug.

She hovers outside the restaurant, watching through the window, needing a couple more seconds before she submits herself to the assault of them all again. She still hasn’t replied to either Fenrys or Manon and the thought presses on her like lead but it’s too late to change that now.

If she’s honest she’s concerning herself with Fenrys and Manon in the hopes of distracting herself from the fact that she’s seconds away from Rowan. Seconds away from him in the flesh, his solid body in front of her that she had learned almost as well as her own.

Her palms are clammy and she wipes them against the fabric of her trousers. The upcoming interviews and photoshoots will all be styled for her and so she’s relishing in her last moments for a while of truly dressing like Aelin.

She takes a step towards the restaurant door, the tip of her trainer bumping the wood when a voice sounds behind her.

“Well, hello there, Stranger.”

Aelin braces herself, hand paused outstretched where it had been reaching for the door.

She turns, biting her lip as she faces Fenrys. He looks the same as he did, skin still golden, eyes still dancing with mischief, but his golden curls are trimmed shorter than the last time she saw him. His expression is carefully blank.

“I- Hi… um,” she stumbles over the words. “I’ve missed you.”

Fenrys breaks almost immediately. “Oh thank the fucking gods.”

He surges forwards and wraps her into a tight hug. Aelin clings to him, fighting the tears in her eyes as she buries her face in his chest. She’s gone far too long without this, without him, and it’s all her own fault.

“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” Fenrys asks. “Oh wait, no you don’t. I’m assuming your phone broke, or was stolen or something since you never replied to any of my texts letting you know.”

Aelin knows her cheeks are stained pink. “I’m sorry,” she admits.

“I know.” His voice softens, losing the teasing edge as he presses a gentle kiss to her cheek.

He pauses before he speaks again, his eyes running over her face. “You could have texted me anytime, you know. Manon too. I know you might forget or try to convince yourself otherwise, but we are your friends. You could have called us about literally anything.”

Aelin feels like she could cry. She’s not sure that she isn’t.

“It doesn’t have to be about anything serious, especially not related to the movie,” or Rowan he doesn’t say but Aelin hears it. “We just wanted to hear your stupid voice.”

Aelin pouts. “My voice isn’t stupid.”

She pokes her tongue out as he rolls his eyes, easily falling back into the dynamic they had shaped a few months ago.

“Not what I meant,” he says before pausing, taking her in as she stands in front of him. “You can’t lose us that easily, you know. We’re like rats or fleas or something. Hard to get rid of.”

“Nice,” she comments, but her chest is tight at his words.

He smiles at her before adding, “and you had fucking better text me back.”

Aelin laughs through the sniffles he’s kindly ignoring. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and finds his contact. Hi she sends and feels his phone buzz against her.

“Much better,” he says and releases her from his arms. “Now, are you ready for a night of the finest dining all on the studio credit card?”

Aelin laughs again. “Lead the way.”

He shoots her a wink and waltzes ahead to hold the door open for her.

Fenrys’ presence shouldn’t reassure her the way it does, especially after the way she has treated him but she clings to him anyway. He’s her buffer for now, a crutch for tonight and tonight only. Once tonight is over and tomorrow begins she and Rowan can be professional, they managed it for months during filming and this should be no different.

Rowan still looks the way he did the night she broke his heart.

His silver hair falls elegantly over his forehead as he bends his head to talk to Manon, the pair of them are engrossed in a conversation as she and Fenrys walk over, not spotting them yet. She loves his hair, loves the thick silver waves and the way they feel between her fingers. She loves the way any attempt he makes to arrange the thick strands is never quite able to tame the beast. She loves the shirt he has on, with the sleeves rolled up exposing inches of tanned skin and dark ink, the same worn green cotton she wore numerous times around his living room all those months ago. She can still remember the feel of it against her bare skin.

His smile is the same, his green eyes crinkling as his lips barely part as he does his best to hold it back.

His smile is the same until he spots her.

He catches sight of her when she reaches the table and his smile drops, the shutters closing over his expression so fast she wouldn’t know he knew how to smile had she not just seen it.

It tears her chest in two and any attempt at a smile on her part is futile. It’s all she can do to make it to her seat without stumbling and she’s sure she misses any other greetings she gets as she slumps onto the chair opposite Manon. She absently notes Fenrys dropping in at her side.

She can’t look away from Rowan, her eyes scanning to try and find anything that distinguishes him from the man she loved all those months ago. She finds nothing. He’s still Rowan and Aelin still… fuck.

He recovers before she does, ever the collected courtier, clearing his throat and nodding.

“Aelin,” he says and she adores the sound of her name on his tongue.

“Hi Rowan,” she manages and hears how weak she sounds. Rowan hears it too. She can tell from the purse of his lips and the tension in the hand he rests along the back of Manon’s chair.

Aelin allows her eyes to drift to Manon and she finally catches the thunderous expression the younger girl wears.

“Hi,” she whispers and Manon blinks.

“Hi?” Manon repeats incredulously.

Aelin is fucked.

“Five months and I get a hi?”

It’s loud and a few heads turn their way. It’s simultaneously mortifying and everything Aelin deserves.

“I’m sorry,” she says plainly.

She could lie, make up some useless excuses but in the end there’s nothing else but the truth and if Manon wants her to grovel she will, she’s just not sure this is the time or place.

Fenrys shares her thoughts. “Later, Manon,” he says, gently.

Rowan’s eyes stay firmly glued to the tablecloth as Manon frowns, seemingly unwilling to let it go.

After a few seconds, seconds Aelin spends waiting for the ground to open up and swallow her, Manon nods. She nods and turns to Fenrys, demanding to know what he’s ordering. And just like that Aelin has a moment to catch her breath.

She knew this dinner wouldn’t be easy, knew she’d be walking into the lion's den of her own making, but she hadn’t expected it to be as hard. Hadn’t expected seeing Rowan to feel like a slap, hadn’t expected Manon’s hurt to scrape across her skin leaving her raw.

She tries not to think she deserves it, Maeve would only raise a brow as if to say we’ve been over this. The thought is sobering, and she manages to lift her head.

It is what it is, what’s done is done and she can only apologise and move forwards.

As much as she tries to resist, Aelin finds herself watching Rowan throughout the night. It’s scary how familiar he feels, he should feel like a stranger, but he feels like she knows him too well. He laughs when she expects, rolls his eyes when she predicts. He orders what she thought he would and he sips away at an orange juice the way he did the first dinner they all had together.

Aelin already feels so different than she did the last time she was in Rifthold and he seems unchanged.

She observes for most of the night, feeling drained despite her minimal contributions to the conversations. She speaks when spoken to and actively avoids speaking when Rowan does, she definitely doesn’t respond to anything he says even though she wants to at least twice and wants to laugh a couple more.

She makes it through and clings to Fenrys again as they all leave, linking her arm through his as they leave the restaurant. He knows what she’s doing but graciously guides her out of the building. Once on the pavement outside the restaurant he pauses and turns to her.

“What hotel are you staying in while you’re here?”

The rest of the group are milling about, calling taxis and bidding their farewells. Aelin doesn’t know how she’s getting back yet, she’s assuming she’ll split a ride with someone.

“Um, the Glass Castle, I think,” she says, desperately trying to recall the name of the hotel she dumped her bags in a few hours earlier.

“Boo,” Fenrys laughs, pointing his thumb down. “They’ve got me in the Torre Cesme. Think I’m ages away from you.”

Aelin laughs, disappointed but ready to order her own taxi back when a voice she didn’t expect sounds.

“I’ve just ordered a cab to the Glass Castle, I’m staying there too. You can jump in if you want.”

Rowan.

She shoots Fenrys a panicked look but his expression is pure glee.

“That would be great thanks, Boss,” Fenrys says, shrugging his arm out of hers and nudging her towards Rowan.

“No problem, Boyo.” Rowan offers Fenrys a dark grin at the nickname and the sight of it stills her. It’s new, he used to roll his eyes whenever Fenrys would drop it into conversation, but now Rowan’s playing along. And the grin, the curl of the lips and the narrowing of the eyes, it’s sexy as fuck.

It’s only taken one night and she’s back in the danger zone. She doesn’t want to be, hell, she wants him to take her back to his hotel room and peel off her clothes but this is Rowan. She’s spent the last few months trying to get over him, falling into bed with him the first night she sees him again would not likely be defined as progress.

He’s also not likely to want that after what she did.

“You don’t have to,” she says. The first direct thing she’s said to him since their greeting.

“I know.” A slight shrug of his broad shoulders. “But we’re going to the same place, it wouldn’t seem logical to take different cars.”

Logic. That’s all it is.

“Right.” She doesn’t think she’s ever felt so awkward with him, not even at the start. “Thank you,” she says, following him to the car.

Fenrys shoots her a grin as he slips into his own taxi. Traitor.

Rowan holds the door open for her and slips in behind her. She tries not to think anything of the fact he could have easily taken the front seat.

The ride is silent apart from the easy chit chat he makes with the driver, another thing she’s not sure she noticed him do before, and she stares out the window as the city passes by. The streets of Rifthold are not her home but she feels a brightness as she glances down the curving roads, spotting groups of people milling about enjoying the night.

She knows the first call she made to Elide in weeks was the right call. Elide is the only person she’d trust with her bank account and access to real estate listings. The link to the flat her friend had sent over has stayed open in her browser since she got it.

It’s modern with classic twists, situated in a recently renovated old warehouse with miles of exposed brick and rustic wooden panelling. She loves the master bedroom the most, with its adjoining en suite with a huge bathtub she can picture herself soaking in. She has a viewing booked in two days but doubts she’ll even need it.

It’s not long before the taxi pulls up outside the hotel and she follows Rowan through the glass doors. He presses the button for the lifts and Aelin shifts in the awkward silence.

Awkward is not something she’s used to with Rowan. Or it wasn’t before.

The doors slide open and again she follows him inside.

He pauses with a hand hovering over the buttons for the floors. “Which floor?”

“Nine.”

Aelin hates these one word exchanges compared to the hours they used to share talking about everything and nothing. She can’t believe this is the man she was so vulnerable with.

His short huff of laughter drags her gaze to his face.

“What?”

“Makes sense,” is what he says, shaking his head and pressing only the button for the ninth floor.

The ride takes seconds, a minute at most, filled with the silence between them.

When the doors open to the ninth floor she steps out, determined not to follow him again, and she feels him follow her. Even now she’s so aware of his powerful body and the way he moves it. She shouldn’t be so attracted to the power emanating from him, from the breadth of his shoulders to the sureness of his steps. She wants him, doesn’t think she ever stopped, except now he’s the forbidden fruit. Forbidden only by her own actions.

She reaches her door, room 905, but pauses with her key tucked in her hand.

“Thanks for letting me share your cab,” she says, finding herself desperate not to say goodbye yet. “I can transfer you for half.”

That finally, finally, cracks a whisper of a smile but she’s not sure she enjoys his laughter if it’s at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

That should be the end of it, she should open her door and shut it behind her, they have a few weeks ahead of them that will be hard enough without any complications.

She left him and he seems gracious enough to have mostly moved past it.

“It was good to see you, Aelin,” he says, seemingly unwilling to let the night end as well. She doesn’t let the seed of hope sprout because what would be the point?

Nevertheless, Aelin smiles, leaning back against her door.

Rowan continues, “even if I wasn’t sure how the night was going to go.”

Her attention is spiked. “What do you mean?”

She can’t lie, a part of her expects him to back down at the edge to her voice. He doesn’t.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to pretend nothing ever happened between us.”

She blinks, giving herself a second to process.

Maybe this isn’t the same Rowan from all those months ago. That night he let her walk away from him, gods know she needed it, but a dark little part of her had wanted him to fight her harder. Fight harder for her. When he hadn’t she’d taken it as her sign.

She knows the expectation was toxic, if he had fought her it would have only pissed her off, but she wishes she’d had someone to tell her it was the wrong choice. It would have helped to hear in the moment, rather than be faced with Rowan months down the line that she wants and can’t have.

The Rowan in front of her, the third Rowan she’s known, stares her down. His eyes peel away each of the layers she’s worked with Maeve for months to don in a second.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

It’s honest and maybe she’s not the same Aelin as a few months ago either.

That’s what she had asked for that night in the cool air, to move past them with as little commotion as possible, stirring up as little attention as they could. She hadn’t wanted to let them eclipse the movie and yet that ended up being exactly what she had accomplished.

Now though, Aelin knows better.

Rowan nods as his eyes dart across her face. He seems to step closer without realising. Aelin notes the motion, still so aware of him and his proximity to her.

His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. “I was so angry at you for leaving.”

Aelin loses her breath at his confession.

Eventually she manages, “was?”

He looks away from her, glancing down the dark hallway, his jaw tight. When she’s with him she forgets about the world around them, there’s probably-definitely-CCTV in this hallway but he’s here and she can’t let him go yet.

His fists curl and uncurl as he takes a deep breath.

“Was,” he says shortly. “I was so angry at you, the way you did what you did was shit.”

Aelin swallows. He’s not wrong.

“I know.”

“But now I don’t know.” She lifts her eyes to his, swimming in the openness she doesn’t deserve. And fuck that. That is such bullshit. She meets his stare, returning all that he isn’t saying. “I spent a long time thinking about it, thinking about you, and it took me a while but now I get it.”

That hurts more than she expects. She didn’t expect him to be all over her the minute they reunited but his understanding was always a kicker.

“I know why you did it,” he continues. “And that took most of the wind out of my sails.”

Aelin frowns. He can’t possibly know why.

“I don’t think you do.” He tilts his head, an invitation for her to expand. “Or you’d know that nothing has changed.”

“Hasn’t it?”

His question throws her. Completely.

She tilts her head up to look at him, closer to her than he’s been all night, pushing her to keep being honest with him.

She’s dazed being this close to him again after so long, the green of his eyes stronger than she remembers. Or maybe her brain had assured her the memory of him couldn’t have been real.

“I don’t know,” she admits, unable to fight the way her body leans into him.

His teeth graze his lower lip and she follows the motion.

He’s silent for a beat too long and her skin is thrumming under his attention. She doesn’t know how she’s gone this long without him, she doesn’t know how she thought she’d survive never having him again.

“Let me know when you figure it out,” he says finally, drawing back and a rush of cool air fills the space he had taken. “Goodnight Aelin.”

He turns and she watches his back down the hallway. He slips easily into a room a few doors down and she’s left watching the path he’d taken, feeling the weight of his eyes on her lips.

Her head thuds against the door as she screws her eyes shut. She wants to scream, wants to chase him down the hall, wants to fly back to Orynth where she was safe.

She doesn’t do any of those things.

She tucks herself into her hotel room and readies herself for the whirlwind that’s about to hit. These next few weeks are going to be hard, not just dealing with the Rowan situation, but she can’t fight the excitement she feels.

Fuck. She’s back in Rifthold, back where she loves, doing what she was born to do.

This is big. She can feel it.

The Crescent City is not her first project, and so she’s been a part of press cycles before, she knows how they go. What she doesn’t know is how a press cycle for something like this works.

The only word she can find is insanity.

There are somehow earlier mornings than they had while shooting and often longer days. She gets poked and prodded in hair and make-up for hours before they spend all day sat in a hotel room filming repetitive interviews for various magazines.

She and Fenrys are genuinely friends and yet they still have to put on a show in front of the cameras. She plays up her laughter when he cracks a joke and he makes sure to never look away from her for longer than two seconds when she speaks or a producer behind the camera makes a comment.

She loves Fenrys but it’s exhausting. Her only blessing is that for most of her engagements she’s with Fenrys and Manon with Rowan conducting his own interviews separately as she had hoped.

Sometimes though, given their relatively similar ages and general level of chemistry, they get grouped together.

The four of them are filming a video for Buzzfeed, filling in a quiz to find out which character from The Crescent City they’re most like. She’s unsurprised to discover her result is Rhysand and it’s fun even if her heart does pound every time she has to act like she’s unfazed and friendly with Rowan.

There’s a moment, just a moment, where she almost breaks from her friendly and unbothered interview persona. It’s her turn to read the question, what item could you not survive without on a desert island?

It’s Rowan that speaks. “Her shampoo,” he says, “it’s jasmine.”

There’s a split second where she doesn’t speak, where all she can do is stare at Rowan, stunned that he remembered and thought to mention it now.

In that split second she’s transported back to memories of them together in the shower at her rented apartment, kissing lazily under the spray after spending hours between her sheets. She remembers dumping the shampoo into her hand and then onto his head, massaging his thick locks and surrounding them in the scent of jasmine.

She remembers how he kissed her neck as she did, trailing his hands over her silky curves, slick with the soap, with his kisses building in heat until her hands dropped to his shoulders. He’d lavished kisses down her chest until he’d jerked back, shampoo in his eyes and she’d laughed until he was safe and pressed his lips again to hers, continuing where he’d left off.

She’s shocked he’d bring this up when there’s a camera on the two of them and she can only imagine the comments it will spark. She’s not sure she cares if it keeps Rowan’s eyes on her.

“It’s luxurious for a reason,” she says when she recovers, tossing her thick locks over her shoulder. “Well worth it.”

She doesn’t miss the flicker in his own mask at her comment.

That kind of interaction will no doubt ignite the sparks she’d only ever wanted to avoid.

As the press cycle goes on and on, and they get closer and closer to the premiere it only becomes harder for her conviction to hold.

She tests her own argument, the clear line she drew in the sand, when she manages to keep it professional with Rowan and she’s not sure where that leaves her. She had thought they would overshadow everything about the project and now she’s not sure.

She said nothing had changed and he had challenged her.

She’s still not sure who’s in the right.

Everything is simultaneously completely new and exactly the same. Rowan is still gorgeous, still charming in his own reserved way, still almost reverent when he talks about his craft throughout interviews. He still talks with his hands and Aelin still can’t draw her eyes away from their motions, she still craves the touch of them on her skin. He’s still seven years older than her and the director of her big break.

Yet there are differences.

They’re still often on the same page, offering similar answers and backing each other up but now he never backs down from a challenge. Now he doesn’t hold back those comments she knows he was always dying to let slip. She should be annoyed, everytime he drops a line that pushes her to expand a little part of her wants to roll her eyes.

She doesn’t though. Her blood heats and her skin prickles. She loves this with him. Loves the dance they play, the teasing, verbal games that shouldn’t start her off but do. She loves the smirk he wears when they end up down that path, and she knows she wears it’s mirror image.

She always ends up squirming in her seat and it should be wrong but it isn’t. The cameras can’t see below their chests and the flush in her cheeks could easily be from the warmth of the day.

She’s beginning to wonder if she’s powerless against Rowan Whitethorn. If she’s powerless against the green of his eyes or the curl of his accent. The slant of his brows or the points of his teeth when he smiles.

She doesn’t know that it’s just one thing. It’s all of the things, it’s all of him, and more so than ever she’s completely fucked.

But they aren’t talking outside of the interviews and photoshoots, and the knowledge of which hotel room is his itches her toes every night. It would be so easy to sneak down the hall, to knock on the door and slot her lips to his when he opened.

It’s only a couple of nights before the premiere when the temptation becomes too much. She’s been around Rowan all day, surrounded by the smell of his aftershave, the notes of pine and freshness and Rowan and it’s too much. She strides down the hallway, resolved in her decision and closes her fingers over the button for the lift.

She needs to be elsewhere or she’ll make some bad decisions.

She’s come so far, survived months without him, she can’t cave due to proximity.

The hotel bar is deserted when she walks in and makes a beeline to the bartender. Yeah, maybe after her wobble at the wrap party a bar isn’t the best decision she could make but her options are limited. Trying to sleep with Rowan is, after all, probably the worst of both options.

“Just a sparkling water please,” she says to the barman who nods and returns a moment later.

“Put it on my tab.” A voice from the end of the bar.

A laugh bubbles out of her chest as she closes her fingers around her glass. Of course he’s here. She should have spotted Rowan the minute she walked in and it’s cruel that the reason she didn’t was that her thoughts were too wrapped up in him.

“Be careful what you sign up for,” she says as she walks over, her steps measured as she comes to a stop before him. Her hips swing of their own accord and his eyes dart up and down the length of her. “I can put a number of these away.”

The smile he gives her is surprisingly unguarded. It seems he’s done holding himself back too. Aelin loves it.

“I don’t doubt it,” he says, nodding at the stool next to him. She obliges as he speaks again. “It’s hard to switch off sometimes.”

He’s always on the same page as she is. Aelin shrugs, taking a sip of the drink he bought her.

They’re quiet for a moment, both unsure of how to break the silence between them when one of the last things they knew was the taste of each other’s lips.

“I keep thinking I’ll get used to it, that one day this will just be my job, but I never do,” Aelin says eventually, tracing a fingertip through the condensation gathered on her glass.

Rowan nods, smiling softly down at the bar and taking a sip of his own drink. An orange juice as usual.

“It’s hard to sleep at the end of days like today,” he says. “It’s why I’m in here.”

The bar is dark at the late hour, and quiet with no one else in there but them and the bartender. There’s something about the late hour, the darkness and the stillness surrounding them a break from the recent rush, that feels a little bit too close. She feels a little too exposed under the weight of his gaze but she rolls her shoulders back and leans an elbow on the bar as she turns towards him.

“I thought you’d be used to all of this by now,” she says and he cocks his head.

“Why?” His question is coy, begging her to expand.

“This is not your first rodeo and all of that,” she says with a smile.

Rowan laughs softly, the sound curving around her like an embrace.

“It can still be overwhelming after your first big movie,” he says gently, but with an edge to his voice that she needs to immediately get rid of.

“I don’t doubt that,” is what she whispers and his brow seems to soften, sensing her lack of malice.

She hates the way they’re in the position where he assumes the worst of her. She has to make that change.

“I don’t think if I get to do this for the rest of my life that it would ever feel normal.”

“No,” Rowan agrees, “I don’t think it could.”

“So then we need this film to do well.” Aelin shifts on the stool, finding herself leaning closer to him without conscious thought. He doesn’t retreat. He stands his ground until they’re only inches apart. “Lest we find ourselves fading into obscurity.”

“I doubt you ever could,” he says with a laugh and it’s the best thing she’s ever heard.

As he looks at her, his expression soft in the dim light, his smile holds something special for her and her chest lifts that she managed it. That he was willing to give that to her.

“My agent sent over the initial critic reviews earlier,” he says and her stomach plummets.

“And?” she demands, her voice wobbling slightly. Her confidence from a minute ago vanished.

This is the moment where she could sink, the moment this could all be over.

“And they’re good,” he almost whispers.

“Good,” she repeats and it’s not a question but he nods.

She wants to throw herself at him at the news, a couple of months ago she wouldn’t have even hesitated, but now she sits clenching her fists and trying not to smile too wide. It feels like a waste. She’ll never get this feeling again.

She turns to him and he’s smiling so she does what she’s wanted to for months. Aelin leans forwards and wraps an arm over his shoulders, pressing her chest to his.

His arms slip up slowly over her shoulders at first, unsure but gaining confidence as he tightens his grip around her, drawing her further into his chest. Aelin laughs a little, throwing her other arm around him and resting her face against his shoulder.

It’s not enough, it never could be with him, but it will do. She’s just happy he didn’t push her away.

Eventually, after a length of time that feels far too short, she pulls back to see him gazing down at her with an expression she can’t name. His brows are drawn in with his lips gently parted. He’s happy but apprehensive, open but distant. Aelin will take what she can and the distance between them has always been too far.

She wants nothing more than to close it, to draw herself into him and he into her, but she can’t. They’re here for one thing and one thing only and she refuses after what they’ve been through to mess it up again.

She knows he can read her own expression but she doesn’t care. She’ll hide from everyone and anyone but she’s realising she could never hide from him.

She wants Rowan, will probably want him for the rest of her life, but she made the call and he’s wrong, things haven’t changed.

Apart from all of the things that have.

The day of the premiere Aelin feels sick.

Her stomach twists and she tosses and turns all night and the dark circles under her eyes are brutal as a result. Her make-up artist tuts but diligently packs concealer on until Aelin looks well rested. Or as close as she can.

She’s trying not to think of the stretch of carpet she’ll have to walk tonight, a smile plastered across her face as she poses for the hundreds of cameras. Their premiere is one of the biggest of the season and, along with Fenrys, she’s the star.

She’ll have nowhere to hide.

Aelin sits in front of her mirror, her hair and make-up are done but she’s yet to get dressed. She takes herself in, making sure to note every strand of hair to every line of her lips, feeling as though she needs to remember this moment. The moment before it all explodes.

They’ve been building to this for almost a year now and this is as close to a culmination as she’ll get.

Her dress is something fierce. Endless, flowing velvet in the darkest shade of black. Long sleeves and a fitted bodice with an almost indecent dip in the back. The dress would be modest without that cut out, she can’t wear any underwear it dips so low.

It would be a simple dress, some might even dare to say boring, if it weren’t for the back. The majority of the fabric that remains is covered in gold embroidery taking the form of a dragon, coiled to strike. Aelin adored the dress the moment her stylist revealed it to her. She didn’t consider any of the other dresses, didn’t even acknowledge them as options.

The dress is what she needs, something strong, something to help her hold her head up high. She can walk the red carpet and stare down every single person who doubted her and know that they were wrong.

Aelin doesn’t need their approval. She doesn’t need the reassurance of faceless commenters, she doesn’t need the support of the magazines and the newspapers. She doesn’t need her mother’s approval. On anything.

Aelin is confident and self-assured and she can walk the red carpet knowing that.

Her sessions with Maeve have helped to reassure her stance, but she’s realising day by day she’s known it all along. It’s just taken a little bit of digging to uncover it.

She slips into her dress and it slides on like a second skin. She takes in her appearance, the arch of her brow and the red smirk of her lips makes her look intriguing, like a confident young woman.

Aelin was born to be an actress but she’s proud to say the sight in the mirror is real.

She poses for a few photos before she’s led out of her room and into the car, waiting to take her to the theatre.

She spends the ride in silence, barely listening to the jabbering of the aide in the car with her, and she focuses her thoughts on the calm before the storm. She takes deep breaths and centres herself the way Maeve has taught, she knows this could so easily be overwhelming but she’s determined to enjoy it.

The car stills and she can hear the noise of the crowd outside. She takes a final deep breath and allows her lips to spread into a smile. This one is genuine, nothing forced about it, and she pauses for one last beat.

This is big and Aelin is ready.

The car door opens and the sound hits her like a wave, slamming down onto her and it's so loud she can hardly think.

This is it. This is the moment she has dreamed of.

The nights where this image was all she could cling to to make it through could never have compared to how it feels standing here now, screams of her own name wrapping around her and urging her on.

Her steps are slow and purposeful as she glides down the path forged for her, the red carpet beneath her stilettos is plush and bright. She pauses where she’s instructed, rolling her shoulders back and smirking at the cameras with a hand on her hip.

She knows she looks incredible and the shouts of the photographers do nothing to change her mind. They are here for her, they’re all here for what she has accomplished, along with Fenrys, Manon, Chaol and Rowan and everyone else involved.

There are so many forces upon her, the flashing of the lights, the screams and shouts calling her name or Fenrys’, the magnitude of what this is could knock down a lesser individual but all it does is raise Aelin up.

She’s been through worse than this and survived, she’ll stare down the lense of all of these cameras, of everyone who has ever spoken her name and she won’t cower, she won’t just survive. She’ll thrive.

A warm hand lands on her waist and somehow the flashes of the cameras explode.

“Hey, golden girl.” Fenrys’ words are almost hard to hear even though his lips brush her ear. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Aelin wraps her arm around his back and grins, “I thought I’d at least show my face.”

He returns her smile and together they pose for the cameras, their shoulders back and smiles confident. She’s not sure this could be better.

Until she turns slightly to her left and gets flashes of silver where she and Fenrys are gold.

Rowan and Manon, posing for their own pictures mere metres away. He looks spectacular, the deep black of his tuxedo doing nothing but bringing out the depth of his tan and the shine of his silver hair.

He’s smiling his public smile and it’s gorgeous even though it’s not her favourite of his smiles, she loves the private ones he used to save just for her, and her own smile falters at the sight.

She’s here with Fenrys and it’s not wrong but it doesn’t feel right. The arm around her waist shouldn’t belong to Fenrys.

She should be where Manon is, smiling up at Rowan while they marvel at what they’ve accomplished. She knows her smile has dropped and she fumbles for anything to plaster onto her expression other than the longing she feels for Rowan.

As if she’d called his name he turns to her, green colliding with blue, and she knows he feels the same.

And that hurts far more than all of the months they spent apart.

All the months she spent hurting, trying to deny what she always knew, trying to pretend that they were anything other than a force of nature. They had been an eclipse, threatening to over take all of this but she was wrong. Rowan was wrong too.

It doesn’t matter whether everything or nothing has changed because she wasn’t right in the first place.

She should have known better than to think that whatever flimsy decision she made could halt what they were, what they should be.

She can only hope he forgives her. She can only hope he feels the same.

But the thing about this new Rowan is that she can’t read him the way she used to read her Rowan, she can’t tell if the way he steels himself and turns away from her is a dismissal or if the look they shared had been just as painful for him as it had been for her.

“A masterpiece.” - Rifthold Reporter

“Fenrys Moonbeam shines alongside Aelin Ashryver in The Crescent City. See our full review here.” - Wyrd Stone

“Latest Rowan Whitethorn flick smashes Box Office records.” - Valg Weekly

“Unapologetic, daring and thought provoking. Award nominations expected to follow for The Crescent City.” - Terrasen Tribune

Her phone has not stopped buzzing for the past four days.

Dorian texts every waking hour with the updates he gets, the numbers coming in and all her latest offers. It’s surreal. She knew they were good but she’s not sure she ever really expected this. Aedion texts her a picture every time he sees or hears her name, it should be terrifying the frequency with which he texts her but she has to fight back her smile each time he does.

She managed to find an hour the night before to call Lysandra and the majority of their call had consisted of Aelin repeatedly asking what the fuck was happening while Lysandra cackled down the phone.

She’d even got a text from Lorcan. It was alright, he’d written. Followed by, I hope I die before ever having to watch you make out with someone like that again.

She’d sent three middle finger emojis and a kissy face in response.

Now is probably not the best time to move to a different country but she’d signed her name on the papers two days before the premiere and Rifthold is calling, irrespective of the fact she’s only been back in Orynth for two days.

Most of her stuff headed out yesterday with the moving company leaving Aelin with two suitcases to fly back to Rifthold with tomorrow.

There’s one last place she needs to go before she heads back to finally get a good night's sleep before her flight tomorrow. She’s never set foot in this graveyard before, she’s never had the courage to dare before, but she’s emboldened. By the success of the movie, by her progress in the past year, by her sessions with Maeve. This has felt like a natural step.

The shining, black headstone is understated and classy and completely to his taste.

Sam Cortland. Beloved son and brother, taken far too soon.

Aelin waits with her head bowed, allowing all of her emotions to rush through her veins. She doesn’t fight them, it would be pointless to try, and she embraces the tears that gather. Eventually she steps forwards, placing the smooth, small stone on the crest of the headstone.

She rests her hand on the cool stone for a moment before sinking down and crossing her legs beneath her as she leans against it.

“I’ve missed you,” she says aloud, “I can almost hear you telling me to stop being such a sappy shit. I can’t help it, it’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

She pauses, letting the wind drift through the field sweeping her words away.

There’s no one else here but her and Sam, no one else she’d want to hear her confession.

“I wonder what you would have made of all this. I think you’d tell me to enjoy it all, to not miss a moment, and I’m not. I’m just choosing the ones I want to savour. And this is one of them, Sam. I wish you’d been there with me, you would have loved it, the cameras, the lights, everything.

“I have to keep pinching myself to know it’s real, I did it, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come and see you.”

She sighs, letting her head tip back to rest against the stone. She didn’t prepare anything to say, didn’t realise she’d even want to speak to the open air but here she is.

“I’m not the same Aelin as the girl you knew anymore,” she says after a few moments of silence. “I didn’t think I would have the capacity to love again after you but I did, and I feel terribly guilty that I do. I have to remind myself that this is what you would have wanted, you would have wanted me to be happy.”

The silence in the field is more than an answer enough. So typically Sam to give her an answer without so much as speaking a word.

“I was happy,” she says, trailing a fingertip along the words etched into the stone. “I will be again.”

A faint haze of sunlight drifts through the Orynth autumn clouds, a whisper compared to the chorus of brightness she misses in Rifthold, and she stands, brushing off the dirt from her jeans. She touches the stone one last time before turning and heading out of the graveyard.

Her visit was years overdue but her chest didn’t crack open the way she had expected, the tears hadn’t been relentless the way she had expected. She’ll visit him again the next time she’s back in Orynth, probably visiting Elide and Lorcan for Yulemass, and she’ll visit again and again for as long as she lives.

But for now, she has a plane to catch.

Months later and two days before the Oscars, when they’re all back in town for the ceremony held in her new home city of Rifthold, Fenrys throws another party.

She’s managed, this time, to stay in touch with Fenrys and Manon, having made up with the younger girl before the press cycle had finished. Aelin knows her upset was real but partly suspects the animosity was a front. She even finds herself participating in the group chat with the three of them and Rowan. She’s only texted him one to one once to wish him a happy birthday and they had caught up briefly but not texted since.

She’s missed him in a different way to the last time she missed him. This time missing him doesn’t feel necessary, it feels wrong not to text him, wrong to be away from him and she’s itching to see him again.

It’s no one's birthday this time but they’re all together again to celebrate, no matter the results they’ll see in two days. Aelin is very carefully measuring her excitement about her own nomination for best actress. Fenrys is up for best actor, Rowan best director and the movie best picture.

She’d almost dropped her phone in the toilet when she found out from Dorian a few weeks ago.

The party is small but still in full swing by the time she arrives. Big names from the industry, all in town for the ceremony, are scattered all around Fenrys’ Rifthold apartment. He’d bought a place here not long after Aelin and she’s secretly relieved she’s not the only one so moved by their experience.

She waves to a few people she knows and tries to stay calm when she spots Sartaq Khagan in the corner chatting away to a small group of people. Holy shit Fenrys has some famous friends.

Aelin finds herself a glass, tops her orange juice off with a splash of lemonade and begins her rounds. So many more people want to talk to her after the movie dropped.

Her mother had been one of them, and Aelin’s thumb had hovered over the accept button for a moment before decidedly pressing decline. She had blocked her mother’s number a moment later, and then she had made some calls closing the bank account her mother kept topped up and arranging for every penny she’d ever received from Evalin Ashryver to be paid back.

It had hurt, emotionally and financially, especially in the month she’d moved to Rifthold, but it had been worth it. To never let Evalin pass any judgement over her life again was a relief worth any cost. Aelin’s hoping there’s a possibility she could end up with a reward.

She doesn’t know how long she spends talking to big name after big name and it’s a realisation that drops onto her that she fits in here. Aelin Ashryver is a big name. No matter the outcome of the ceremony she has prospects, already a number of projects lined up and she’s loving every minute of it.

She drains her cup for the third time tonight and heads back into the kitchen. She’s barely seen Fenrys all night, and she doesn’t even know if Manon is here.

She frowns into the fridge, there was definitely a full bottle of orange juice in here the last time she topped herself up. She shuts the fridge and spins around.

“Looking for this?”

She should have known.

Rowan looks predictably gorgeous in the dim kitchen lighting. All tanned skin and silver smiles. He’s dressed in her favourite look of his too, worn denim jeans and a soft cotton shirt.

It’s the softness in his gaze that really takes her though, it seems the animosity from the last time they saw each other has faded if not disappeared. Her chest squeezes at the thought. She has no idea what could have triggered it but she will take it.

“Nope,” she says, stepping over to where he stands with an arm braced against the counter at his side, the other holding out a bottle of orange juice. “I was hoping Fenrys would have some chocolate in there but I guess this will have to do.”

She takes the bottle from him, her fingertips brushing his and she feels her cheeks heat at the innocent brush.

His smile is genuine and she knows what he’s remembering because she’s thinking of it too. The first time she visited his house during filming and their moment in the kitchen. They’ve been through cycles, she supposes, but hopefully now for the better.

“I’m sure we can find you some somewhere in here,” he says as she fills her cup, pulling open the cupboard next to his head.

Aelin smirks. “I’m going to leave the rummaging through Fenrys’ cupboards to you. You could find anything in there.”

Rowan winces, closing the door before returning her smile. This is friendly and the hope that’s been planted in her chest begins to sprout.

“Yeah, maybe not,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “We wouldn’t want to risk it.”

Aelin pauses for a moment, taking in the glory of him in front of her. He’s still Rowan, he’s still tall and deliciously broad. His silver hair is slightly more grown out and there are a couple more lines around his eyes but she doesn’t care, in fact it’s charming. He’s still and always will be stunning. She takes a sip of her drink before she takes one of her biggest risks so far.

“I’ve missed you,” she says, not daring to look away from his face.

He bites his lip, his tongue darting out to soothe the skin before he speaks. “I’ve missed you too.”

The smile that spreads across her face is all too telling but he’s smiling too so she doesn’t think it matters. He definitely feels the same and she’d be annoyed at the months she spent worrying but the relief is too sweet.

“Good,” is what she says, far too happy they’re here to bother with pretending she’s anything other than ecstatic. “Congrats on your nomination.”

His eyes dart to the floor and then back up at her, he’s too modest about his own skill and Aelin adores it. “Thank you,” he says softly, “you too.”

“Thanks,” she says. “I couldn’t have done it without you. All of you.”

“Me neither,” Rowan says.

He’s close to her now, closer than he has been to her for months and her skin cries out for contact. She almost can’t believe she’s here now, talking to Rowan without any animosity, days before the Oscars that she’s nominated in.

The smile that takes over her face is completely of its own accord. She’s floating and it seems Rowan is too if the beat they share, exchanging incredulous smiles, is anything to go by.

“It’s crazy, right?”

She’s been asking herself the question for so long it seems only natural it slips out to him.

He laughs softly, and the rough sound curls straight to her core.

“Definitely,” he agrees, his voice low. “I don’t think last time felt like this.”

Aelin slaps a gentle hand to his chest and ignores the thrill that shoots through her at the eventual contact. “I get it, this is not your first nomination.”

Rowan rolls his eyes and she didn’t know how much she missed this, playing with him. She adores his reaction every time, the begrudging amusement he only lets shine through to make her smile.

“Some of us have never been nominated before, this is all completely new.” Aelin takes a sip of her drink. “I had to give up my social media accounts to Elide, it got so crazy.”

Something flickers over Rowan’s face at her comment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she says, her eyes darting across his face trying to decipher the expression. “She’s always had access and I still do so I can post if I want to but it just became a lot. It stopped being fun when I would see what people were saying, whether it was good or bad I don’t want to see it anymore.”

Rowan nods before his eyes lock onto hers, the intensity in his expression shreds her control.

“And you said nothing had changed?”

Aelin gets it now.

She shifts her weight, leaning as close to him as she can without sliding herself completely into the circle of his arms. “I was wrong. Lots of things have changed,” she says, her voice quiet but strong. “And lots of things are now right that weren’t before.”

She doesn’t mean to skirt around the truth, hiding in veiled words and double meanings, but as always, Rowan sees her. He sees her meaning and he smiles. It’s the most beautiful smile Aelin has ever seen him wear.

“I’ve been looking for you two.”

Fenrys bursts into the kitchen, startling Aelin back from Rowan. She hides her guilty smile in her drink and notices Rowan doing the same. Fenrys just grins, clearly enjoying whatever he thinks he’s seeing.

“You’re missing out, we’re playing kings in the living room if you want to join?”

Rowan glances at her before he turns back to Fenrys. “I think we’re good, thanks.”

Fenrys’ smile turns smug and Aelin resists the temptation to flip him off. She’s in too good of a mood to be annoyed at him.

“Okay, see you later, lovebirds,” Fenrys says, already on his way back out of the door.

Aelin pretends she isn’t blushing as she turns back to Rowan, his green eyes shining.

“This might sound crazy,” he says with an alluring tilt to his lips, “but do you want to get out of here?”

She’s reached a point she truly never thought she would.

She’s an Oscar-nominated lead actress in a box-office-record-breaking movie.

She’s happy, healthy and out from underneath the thumb of Evalin Ashryver.

The part that’s most uplifting, the part that has her unable to wipe the smile off her face as she strolls down the streets of Rifthold, is the arm she has tucked through Rowan’s.

They’ve been walking for a little while, enjoying the cool night air and the ease with which they managed to sneak out of Fenrys’ party. Her heels are killing her and Rowan very graciously offers her an arm to lean on and each time she takes a step in time with him she smiles.

“I never thought I’d like doing television,” he says.

She didn’t know he’d taken on a miniseries, similar to the one she’d done after filming, but she’s loving the recap she’s getting of the months they’ve been apart. The chill of the air is more than fought off by the warmth of Rowan by her side. The streets are mercifully empty and she can bask in the knowledge that it’s just the two of them out here, that they’re insignificant, that anyone who sees them will immediately dismiss them.

“I always thought I’d stick to movies, singular stories but I enjoyed it. I guess change can be good.”

Aelin laughs softly and squeezes his arm. He looks down to her, a question written in the slant of his brow.

“Change can definitely be good,” she says as she takes in the sights of the skyscrapers surrounding them. “I would know that I suppose.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I bought a flat recently.”

“You did?”

He’s so graciously giving her the floor to say what she needs to say and she holds his arm even tighter.

“It’s right here in Rifthold.” Aelin avoids his gaze, lest he think it’s a speedy invitation and that that’s all this is. “I bought it just after we were back here for press, I realised that I adore Rifthold and being here. I missed it when I wasn’t here and I don’t feel there’s anything holding me in Orynth anymore.”

Rowan laughs softly, his feet scuffing the floor.

“What?” she demands.

“I swear I’m not following you,” he says and she feels a smile creep onto her face. “I bought a loft here too.”

Aelin gasps. “But your house was gorgeous!”

Rowan’s smile twists as he looks away from her. “I didn’t say I sold the house.”

Aelin cackles as she squeezes his arm, the sound joyous and bright as it echoes around them. “I knew being Mr Big-Name-Director has its perks.”

“It does,” he agrees with a smirk.

Aelin wants to kiss that smirk. Wants to pull him down and twist her fingers through his hair as his own tangle along her skin.

Instead she says, “I copied you somewhat too.”

He only raises a brow.

“I bought a piano like the one in your house. It was too big for my old flat in Orynth and so I knew what I had to do.”

“That’s good,” he says as his arm drops out of hers. She almost pouts until he instead tangles their fingers together. Her smile says it all, reflected back in his own. “You play beautifully.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks are glowing. “You’ll have to come over and I’ll play for you sometime, neighbour.”

“I’d love to.”

Aelin slows, using the hand tangled with his to pull him to a stop too. Her free hand trails a gentle path up his chest before coming to rest at his collar, her fingertips tracing the golden skin peeking out from his shirt. His free hand finds her waist.

They’re close, closer than they have been in such a long time when he speaks.

“I don’t know what you think has or hasn’t changed.” His hand leaves hers to cup her cheek. “But I still feel the way I used to about you.”

Her heart takes off, pounding within her chest.

“I do too, Rowan.” Some of the easiest words she’s ever said to him. There’s something about the way the streetlights shine through the silver tips of his hair and the way his calloused fingers feel between hers that she’s feeling brave. “I loved you then and I love you now.”

His eyes flicker across her face as his smile dawns, taking over his face as he smiles so brightly. This is all she’s ever wanted, to have a Rowan like this, with pure, unfiltered happiness in his eyes as he looks at her.

“You love me?”

“I do. To whatever end.”

His lips are barely a whisper from hers and she only acknowledges the thought that they’re in public for long enough to realise she doesn’t care.

“And I love you.”

His words are simple, but sweet. They wash over her and settle into her skin as his lips land on hers. He kisses her with what she can only describe as love. His lips pour devotion onto her and his hands light a fire inside her as he tastes her tongue.

They kiss for longer than she can keep a track of, wrapped up together illuminated only by the street lighting. She’s missed this, missed him, and she can’t help but feel right when his hands are on her. She can’t help but feel right as she stretches onto her toes to throw herself into his kiss.

This was never wrong, this was one of the first things she knew was right.

She loves him and he loves her and nothing and nobody else matters.

She doesn’t win the Oscar, and neither does Rowan. Fenrys does and she screams herself hoarse cheering him on as he makes his way to the stage.

The moment that takes the cake is when The Crescent City takes best picture. She takes to the stage with some of her best friends to recognise what they achieved together and maybe she is a soppy shit but she definitely cries. Fenrys laughs at her and Manon grins but Rowan just throws his arm around her shoulders and it's worth it.

Afterwards, she logs into her Instagram account for the first time in a long time. She posts a picture of Rowan looking absolutely delicious with his tux unbuttoned and his bow tie hanging untied around his neck with a greasy burger in one hand and hers in his other.

Posting him is a statement but she doesn’t care. In fact, she wants the world to know. She wants the world to know that nobody does it like he does. Nobody does it like they do.