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[mynewdreamwasyou]

Noisy Neighbors (86)

Another update! Be sure to read Chapter 85 first. 😉

Word Count: ~4500

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Chapter Links:

Aelin's Stage Outfit Inspo

The Song (Spoilers for End of Chapter)

Adarlan Records CEO, Dorian Havilliard Sr., Seen At the Adriata Airport.

The next day arrived too soon for Aelin’s liking. Though she didn’t know the reason for Adarlan Records' unexpected international visit this morning, Aelin had a feeling she would like whatever it was once she found out. Then again, Aelin almost never liked anything the label had to say.

Getting out of bed was a struggle. Aelin hated losing any sleep for Havilliard Sr. Aelin could think of a million other things she would prefer to do rather than meet with her record label—jumping off a cliff, for example. Or, perhaps, performing her next concert in the nude.

Prior label, Aelin reminded herself. Sure, the contract was still in effect, and sure, Aelin hadn’t quite fulfilled her obligations outlined by said contract—promoting and supporting the sale of her third album and consequential tour. But she was close. After all, the tour was almost over. The Dear Society cycle was coming to an end.

The deal with Damaris Labels was signed, official, and announced. Aelin had made a point to keep everything transparent; no one could accuse her of keeping a secret. She’d been upfront about considering offers from competitors, including Damaris. Even while she and Adarlan Records went through the motions of negotiating a new contract, they knew it was a fruitless endeavor like the polite conversation at the end of a really bad date. No one expected a second one.

Aelin was determined to make it so no one could call her unprofessional. Everything had been done by the book. Sorrell was the ace in her pocket, drafting a formal letter informing Adarlan Records of her intent to separate from Adarlan Records after their last miserable meeting. 

Still, something told Aelin unprofessional was something she was about to be accused of being.

Aelin Galathynius Meets with Former Record Label—Dorian Havilliard Sr. Seen at Star’s Hotel.

By the grace of the gods, the fancy hotel Aelin’s camp was staying in also served as an upscale conference center with boardrooms aplenty to choose from. Essar had no trouble booking one, and Aelin was glad to hear so. There was power in having Adarlan’s team come to her instead of the other way around. And Aelin was always happy to avoid the cacophony waiting for her outside, especially before meeting with her biggest enemy.

Aelin scoffed. It felt silly, though. To have enemies. But that was exactly what Haviliard Sr and Adarlan Records were—her enemies.

The screams began the second she entered the conference room, surprising Aelin as she was spotted through the open blinds of the windows. Her fans screamed, and phone cameras flashed as they attempted to catch a picture of her.

“Close the windows!” Havilliard Sr. barked at a timid-looking assistant. The young man bolted for the windows, hands shaking as he attempted to draw the blinds closed.

It seemed like an odd oversight. Privacy was always a fight for her, and Aelin’s team knew that better than anyone. Aelin didn’t get to enjoy open windows very often, especially not in hotels where management tended to get upset by the disruption Aelin caused.

Still, she waved at the fans as the assistant rushed around the room and closed the blinds. She wanted to be nice, even if she was a bit confused by their presence. 

“I think we’re ready to begin if we could all be seated.” One look at Sorrel’s—and Nesryn’s—pleased expressions, and Aelin understood what just happened. Her people knew how to play the game. 

Aelin struggled to hide her own smile as she took her seat at the end of the table, opposite Dorian’s father. It was hard to believe the two men were related. Where Dorian was all good-natured charm, his father was cold and harsh. It made Aelin wonder what Dorian’s mother was like. She’d never met the woman.

As their teams settled around them, Aelin held Havilliard Sr’s stare, trying to get a read on the man. Unfortunately, she already knew there was no reading him. Aelin would have saved herself from a lot of mistakes and bad times if she could.

“So.” Aelin’s fingers ached to tap along the boardroom table, a habit she realized she was picking up from her boyfriend, but Aelin wouldn’t allow herself the tick. Havilliard Sr was not safe company. He’d spot the weakness and move in for the kill.

Instead, Aelin slouched back in her chair, the picture of comfort and ease and casual indifference. “What brings you to this side of the pond, Dorian?”

Wrong, wrong, wrong. Aelin never called him by his first name. Because Dorian was the bright-eyed flirt that Aelin hated to adore and trusted with her life. Dorian was not the statue of a man sitting opposite her.

But her plan worked. Aelin’s familiarity with him surprised Havilliard. He blinked once—one thrilling fucking time—and then trained his face blank again.

Fuck. Where’d this man learn his poker face?

“Aelin has a busy day ahead of her,” Nesryn said simply, interrupting Aelin’s taunting. “Perhaps, it’s best we get to the point, hm?”

Havilliard Sr turned his cold eyes on Aelin’s publicist. “The assistant was instructed to clear her schedule.”

“Essar doesn’t work for you.” Aelin leveled a look at the man. Fuck, she hated this guy. “The only person with the power to clear my schedule is me.” Aelin tilted her chin, thoughtful. “And my mother.”

Sorrel’s dark eyes glimmered with amusement. 

“Aelin has an appointment to get to.” A total like. Aelin had nowhere to be until the venue this evening, but Adarlan Records didn’t need to know that. Her schedule was not in their control despite their best attempts to do so.

“You have”—Nesryn made a show of checking the delicate silver watch on her wrist, a Yulemas present from Aelin a few years ago. Aelin needed to upgrade it after this hellish year—“about thirty minutes.”

To say Havilliard looked pissed would be an understatement. His ice eyes aimed at Aelin. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you treat me? By bringing an army of representatives to our meeting?”

“And after everything I’ve done for you,” Aelin echoed, leaning forward and resting her chin on a fist, “this is how you treat me?” She twirled a lazy finger, gesturing at the man’s own team.

Silence. They stared each other down, neither blinking.

“While this is riveting,” Sorrel interrupted in a calm voice, slow and steady, “I’m curious as to your business with my client. If all you desired was to stare at her, you could do that without flying across the world.”

Aelin just managed not to wrinkle her nose at the thought. Gross.

“The album is doing well.” Havilliard managed to make what should have been a compliment sound like an insult. As if it were a suprise. As if Aelin’s success was directly connected to him and not her own fucking talent.

“We think it could do better.” Aelin didn’t know the man who spoke now, but she relished how he flinched under her attention. She liked being reminded that she was scary.

“Ten weeks at Number One, not good enough for you?” Aelin checked her nails. She needed to repaint them. “Or do you think we’re lacking in Top 10 singles? Three not good enough for you?”

Aelin sucked her teeth. “We could try for another, but… I’m not sure we have the traction for that. The album is a year old. There’s new, shinier things on the block.”

“Like the Cadre single you sang at the EMAs.” Havilliard Sr’s distaste was evident. “Of which you have yet to hand over the master to.”

“My client wrote the song outside of her commitment to Adarlan Records,” Sorrel chimed in. “The single is her own. She owns her songwriting rights, after all.”

“But not her recording rights,” a woman in a slicked-back bun countered. She had the look of a corporate attorney. “Those belong to Adarlan Records. The album cycle is still active and any music produced during this period belongs to the company—not the artist.”

“Yeah, fuck that.” Aelin looked down her nose at Havilliard. “I own the song, and I decline to sell it—to you or the Cadre.”

“You are the Cadre,” Havilliard seethed.

“She is Aelin Galathynius, but she is also a member of the Cadre. The entities are separate.” Sorrel sat straight in her chair. “As the sole controller of her songwriting rights, Aelin can decline to sell her music. She’s also free to perform it in whatever capacity she likes.”

Well, that was pretty fucking confusing, but it sounded like it benefited Aelin. So, she kept her mouth shut.

“It was recorded during the lifetime of her contract,” the attorney insisted. “It belongs to Adarlan.”

“Adarlan Records is entitled to the list of songs submitted by the artist for her third album, including those scrapped by the label prior to cutting the album.” Sorrel didn’t so much as spare Aelin a look, her attention focused solely on the attorney. “You have those masters, correct?”

The attorney glanced at another member of the team. They nodded. “Yes.”

“Then the obligation was fulfilled.” Sorrel looked to Havilliard Sr. “The record company is not expressly owed all music created during the contract as it does not possess the ownership of my client’s songwriting rights. Aelin is free to write whatever she likes—for herself or others—without losing custody of said music. The same applies to the additional contributors.”

“And to be clear,” Aelin added, locking eyes with Havilliard, “Bad Guy belongs to me. I wrote it for myself. To perform at the EMAs. Which I did.”

“With the rest of your band,” the attorney snapped, her temper breaking. Shit, that was easy. “The Cadre was in the news for days. The videos posted online declare it a Cadre single.”

“We can’t control the media.” Aelin shrugged. Her gaze slid across the table. “Isn’t that what you always say, Dor?”

Aelin swore she saw the man flinch. Victory.

“You may not have declared yourself the Cadre, but it was implied,” the attorney hissed.

“Fifteen minutes,” Nesryn chimed.

“I find it hard to believe you flew all the way here just to argue semantics,” Aelin said, lazily leaning on an arm of her chair. She kept her gaze locked on Havilliard Sr, ignoring his alley cat of a lawyer. “There must be something else. Unless…” Aelin tapped her chin. “You just wanted to see my face?”

“As your lawyer said,” Havilliard Sr broke his silence once more, “I could do that without flying to this hellhole of a city.”

Of course, he’d find Adriata hellish—beautiful, historical Adriata, full of glittering buildings and sparkling ocean views. Aelin imagined Adarlan Record’s office in her mind; it was nothing but brittle glass and cold tile.

Aelin and her team waited for the man to elaborate. Things may have gotten a bit off the rails there for a moment, but her team was perfectly in sync. They would give him as little as possible—both in this conversation and in whatever deal he was about to attempt to cut.

Everyone in the room recognized this meeting for what it was: a last-minute money grab. Aelin was sure Adarlan’s balance sheet took one hell of a hit with her departure, and CEOs got fired for that kind of thing every day.

However, Dorian’s father was well-versed in these meetings, too. He turned his icy stare on the trembling assistant and spat, “Hand out the document, you fool.”

The poor soul jumped to attention, scrambling to pass out a few nondescript folders. Aelin received hers first, but she kept her hands folded in her lap and waited.

Sorrel was the first to speak, “You recognize that these dates are considered additional to the original request, and therefore, subject to individual review—and terms.”

“That’s negotiable,” the alley cat hissed.

And then it clicked. 

“You want more dates.” It wasn’t a question. Aelin straightened her back and leveled her stare at the man she once considered a hero. He’d given everything to her and her band, and Aelin had all but worshipped him for it. In the end, he’d taken more than he was owed. A lot more. And was trying to take more.

“One hundred wasn’t enough for you?” Aelin struggled to keep her cool. She wanted so badly to scream and rampage. But not here. Not now. Later.

“There’s more than enough demand,” a man in a well-pressed suit said. “We’ve sold out every date. There’s no reason to doubt—”

“I did.” Aelin unfolded her hands, shifting forward. The group looked at her quizzically, like she’d lost her mind and was speaking in riddles.

She met the man’s eye. “I sold every date.”

“Uh.” The man looked to Havilliard, only to be ignored by his boss. 

“I. Sold. Them.” Aelin kept her voice level, but it was a lethal calm full of warning. “Because they were my show dates on my tour with my music for my fans. You didn’t have to do anything. You just sat there, taking up space in your ugly suit and sterile office, and took the money I made you.”

“Aelin…” Nesryn met her eye, concern buried deep within her gaze.

“You don’t get to sit here and take credit for my work,” Aelin continued. “That isn’t how this is going to go, and it certainly isn’t how any further dates will go either. Your time milking me for money like, like some kind of fucking cow is over.”

“You’re wrong,” Havilliard said, matching her calm.

Aelin froze in her seat. “Excuse me?”

“Well, most of what you said is correct.” The CEO of Adarlan Records showed his hand then, and Aelin’s guard rose even more. She knew whatever he was about to say would royally piss her off. “You did do most of the work, but we paid our share and lent you our marketing power and distribution centers. We paid for the studio time and physical albums at a time when they don’t sell anymore.

“And again, you’re correct. It all worked out—better than worked out— because it was for you.” Havilliard Sr leaned back in his chair and aimed his icy stare Aelin’s way. Waited.

It felt like the time to say thank you, but Aelin resisted. Showing any gratitude to this man was a trap, and she wouldn’t fall into it.

“But you’re also wrong,” he continued. “About the music—it’s mine.”

And it was in a sense.

“Then you go out there and perform.” Aelin rose from the table, leaving the unopened folder in its spot. She wouldn’t be taking it with her. Aelin had no intention of reading the damn thing, of even entertaining the idea of doing something for Havilliard Sr.

“Though, I suspect your voice could empty the stadiums faster than I can fill them,” Aelin mused, pretending to brush off her jeans. “That is if your son’s absolute lack of vocal skills is any indication.”

Using the insult as her parting words, Aelin made her way to the exit. She trained her gaze on the door in front of her, refusing to look at Havilliard Sr again. If she had it her way, Aelin would never lay eyes on the man again.

The team raced to keep up with Aelin as she marched down the hotel hallway. She was totally lost, but her temper kept her from worrying about it. 

“Someone remind me that I can’t go back in there and punch those assholes in their fucking faces,” Aelin begged of her team as she turned down a hall for what she suspected might be the second time.

Ress appeared before her, nodding in the other direction. Aelin followed him to the elevator.

“You cannot punch him,” Essar declared. “Though I have to admit, it’s pretty tempting.”

Nesryn snorted. “It’d give the bastard exactly what he wants, and despite being in the right, the media will take you down for it. Young women versus older men and all that internalized sexism shit.”

“I suppose, you could punch him,” Sorrel chirped as they entered the elevator. All eyes turned to her, expressions varying from horror to amusement.

“What?” she asked as the doors slid closed. “I’m good a my job, and I’d love to buy a new car.”

Aelin laughed. She’d forgotten how much she liked Sorrel.

The ride up the elevator was silent as each member of Aelin’s camp processed the meeting. Aelin felt it as each of them struggled with their protective instincts, keeping quiet until Aelin was ready to unpack the news.

Then, “Fuck that guy.” 

Aelin and her friends turned to Brullo in surprise as he broke the silence, especially Ress whose mouth hung open. Brullo was the definition of stoic professionalism. The break in character was unexpected but not unappreciated.

Aelin grinned. “Yeah, fuck that guy.”

Laughter exploded.

Fans Share Pictures of Aelin Galathynius Online, Show Pictures of Her Meeting with CEO of Former Label, Adarlan Records.

“Adriata!” Aelin struggled not to gasp for breath under the watchful eye of 80,000 people. She beamed as they screamed back at her, riding the high of the last song. About Love was always a hit. “How would you feel if we mixed things up a bit tonight?”

A positive, if unexpected, response.

“As you can see, I’ve changed my wardrobe, especially for the occasion.” Aelin laughed and did a little dance. The leather jumpsuit was a last-minute edition by Manon, who was ever-rising to the challenge of disproving Aelin’s pregnancy rumors.

More screams. Shit, Aelin did love Prythian. The fans here were always spectacular. 

“Excellent.” Aelin grinned. “It would’ve been pretty awkward if you’d said no.”

Try as hard as she might, Aelin hadn’t managed to shake the bitter anger that burned her skin after her meeting with Adarlan Records. Even a bitch-fest phone call to Dorian hadn’t cooled her. In fact, it’d made her angrier, fueled by Dorian’s own sudden temper.

But she’d made the best of a shitty situation, cracking jokes with her team, but Aelin was pissed. Paralyzingly so. The nerve of Havilliard Sr to fly across the world and try to throw his weight around, to try and give her orders.

And he just expected Aelin to march as commanded.

Fuck that.

“I thought it might be fun to talk a walk down memory lane,” Aelin told the crowd. A backup dancer took her handheld microphone from her, and another passed her a guitar. The cheering amplified as Aelin lifted the strap over her head, adjusted her hair, and secured the black matte guitar against her torso. As anticipated, the golden accents shone brightly against the stage lights, contrasting brightly against the instrument’s black varnish, as well as her all-black outfit.

“But I do have one condition.” Aelin strummed the guitar experimentally and paused for suspense. Instead, she received a clamorous round of applause as the empty chord hummed through the stadium’s sound system. “You lot have to agree to delete the footage when I inevitably screw up Rowan’s part.”

Understanding the implications, the crowd roared. Aelin played a few notes, confirming their suspicions that she was about to play an old Cadre favorite. A fan close to her wailed in excitement, and Aelin flashed them a grin.

“Hey, I’m serious!” Aelin slid her gaze to Elide. Her lead guitarist was trying in vain to hide her snickers while joining the musical intro, adding her own spin on the infamous rift. “If he finds out, I’ll never be able to go home. The bastard holds a grudge.”

More chuckles. This time, Elide rolled her eyes. Not a soul in the stadium—all eighty thousand of them—believed her.

“You all don’t believe me?” Aelin played offended. “He’s very judgemental, Rowan Whitethorn.” A few more notes echoed in the stadium. She needed to get on with it soon, the anticipation was high enough already.

“Like, I don’t know what you people see in the guy.” Another wave of excitement as Aelin played the notes again with a little more purpose. Elide echoed her, playing the rhythm to push Aelin along. She grinned, taking the hint.

“Lorcan is already sworn to secrecy, so that means it's all up to you, Adriata.” Lorcan joined in, adding percussion into the mix. “Are you going to rat me out to my boyfriend if I mess up his song?”

The fans knew Aelin was going to play the song regardless, but Aelin still found it fun to tease them. This was her favorite part, after all. Aelin loved interacting with the fans like this, especially at a concert, with one-sided banter. They did, too, if the internet reactions were any indication.

A pointed pause. “Well?”

The crowd cheered in promise.

“Good.” Aelin stopped playing and adjusted the microphone ever so slightly. “I’m glad that we were able to come to an agreement. Though, you lot are pretty weak negotiators.”

Aelin pushed aside the thought of her meeting with Adarlan Records this morning. It wasn’t the time. It was hard to do so, though. Considering a lot of them were out there in the audience somewhere. She hoped her team gave them really shitty seats.

“So, before we get going,” Aelin continued, “I wanted to thank all of you for being here with me tonight. There’s a ton of other things you could be doing right now, but for a reason that continues to escape me, you decided to come listen to me ramble.”

Someone screamed. Aelin laughed brightly.

“You certainly don’t show up because of my shining reputation.” Aelin couldn’t help her grimace. Though, somewhere out in the crowd, the Adarlan representatives watched, Aelin wasn’t interested in impressing them. If anything, her goal was to offend them—as much as possible. Hence, the Cadre cover.

Getting approval to perform the song was pretty easy, considering those with ownership were all on her speed dial. The only thing that irked her was knowing Adarlan would get a cut of her proceeds for the song. But it couldn’t be helped.

“I’m sure you’ve heard all the bullshit, yeah?” There were a few murmurs. A couple of I love you’s, too. Aelin smiled tightly.

“Anyway, it’s times like these that we have to remind ourselves not to let the opinions of others affect your own feelings—especially your opinions of yourself.” Aelin restarted the intro again, drawing it out. Yes, she was rambling, but Aelin felt the need to get this off of her chest. Funny, how it was less scary to address the drama to a stadium full of strangers than to her tightly-knit team—than to Rowan.

“In the end, we can’t let someone else have that kind of power over us.” The music faded. “Easier said than done, I know. Trust me. But sometimes the shitty things people call you—aren’t necessarily bad things.”

Aelin paused long enough to cue Elide. The song began in earnest, and Aelin rushed to finish the longest song intro ever. “So, here’s a song about not letting others’ opinions bother you.” Aelin started to play along. “Those of you who’ve been here from the beginning might recognize it. If you do, please sing along!”

You took me to your little crib Guess it must have been a big deal Got me starring in your wet dream Now it's time to get real I'm not looking for love No not today But you call me up and had the nerve to say See you next Tuesday

Aelin may have written the song eons before she ever laid eyes on the man who was to become the sinister villain in her career, but as she sang, Aelin couldn’t help but think of Havilliard Sr as he sat across from her and claimed credit—worse, ownership—of her work.

You call me a bitch like it's a bad thing You call me a freak like that means something Can't get your way so you insult me I think we know the rest Get it off your chest I don't give a shit I love it when you call me a bitch like it's a bad thing

Aelin flashed Elide a grin as her guitar ripped through the stadium sound system. No, it wasn’t quite the same as the days when it was Rowan standing to her right, showing off to the audience, but it was a pretty close second.

You show up everywhere I go Get a grip you're acting so weird I don't need your jäger bombs I think I can take it from here You got to learn to leave when the party ends I don't really care what you tell your friends Tell me again

Aelin sang the verse to the Adarlan representatives sitting in the crowd—a rough estimate of where they were sitting anyway. Maybe it was petty, singing a song about the Cadre so soon after yet another attempt by Adarlan Records to claim Bad Guy, but Aelin was in the mood to push some buttons. Yet, she wasn’t willing to risk Bad Guy, and so, she opted out of singing it tonight.

Though, what a slap in the face that would have been.

You call me a bitch like it's a bad thing You call me a freak like that means something Can't get your way so you're angry I think we know the rest Get it off your chest I don't give a shit I love it when you call me a bitch

The music built, and Aelin took a deep breath. It was because of moments such as these that she liked to save her simultaneous singing and playing for easier verses.

I think you hate me ‘cause you want me You only want what you can't have I'm just being who I want to be But you can't deal with that

You call me a bitch like it's a bad thing You call me a freak like that means something Can't get your way so you're so pissed off I think we know the rest Get it off your chest I don't give a shit I love it when you call me a bitch like it's a bad thing

The crowd cheered, and Aelin's smile was so big it hurt her face. Something told her she’d pay for this little number, but fuck it if it wasn’t worth it for the joy coming from her fans right now. For the way Lorcan continued to mess around on the drums, drawing out the song like the egotistical prick he was. For how even Elide laughed, indulging her boyfriend by playing along.

Yes, it was a shit morning, but things were looking up.

After a Tense Meeting with her Former Record Label, Aelin Galaythynius Sings The Cadre Hit, Call Me a Bitch. A Message for Adarlan Records CEO in the Crowd?

[mynewdreamwasyou]

Noisy Neighbors (85)

It really fucks me up every time I have to make a chapter banner. Like... chapter 85? Is this a joke? Sounds fake.

Word Count: ~3800

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Aelin Galathynius Takes Her Global Stadium Tour to the Karaoke Bar.

The next morning, Aelin woke in a splendid fucking mood. Even the lingering headache from a night trying to outdrink Lorcan couldn’t put a damper on things. Aelin felt much better. Who knew all she needed was a night out on the town and a lazy day in bed? Oh, and a little attention from her boyfriend, of course.

Yes, the melancholy mood that had previously haunted her every step was now gone, and Aelin was glad to be free of the gloomy cloud that seemed to be forever perched overhead. Aelin was ready to charge ahead, to put on a few final—and fucking awesome—shows and call this tour a damn hit.

Fuck, orgasms were magic.

Too bad it was now time to face the magic.

When Adarlan-selected dates landed on Aelin’s metaphorical desk, she’d thought it was some kind of fucked up joke. Aelin’s camp knew not to waste their time forwarding information from them to her, and yet, she’d found a list of handpicked dates on her calendar, pending her forced approval. They’d come from Nesryn with a simple explanation: they were to promote her tour.

But why the hell did Aelin Galathynius need to promote anything, especially her record-breaking tour? Sure, Aelin liked to keep the fans and media alike informed via her social media channels, but Aelin was way past the point of having to work to sell tours—or anything else. It was a blessing. And, sometimes, a curse.

And yet, Aelin still spent the morning in hair and make-up, listening to a backstage countdown to her live interview segment on Wake Up, Adriata. It was a crime to promote a concert on a morning show. Aelin was positive this kind of shit never actually reached her audience—not at the moment. Aelin’s people were fucking sleeping at this hour. They’d catch the replays on the internet this afternoon. The same as if Aelin were to share something on her socials. Except, Aelin’s social media didn’t require her to get up so fucking early. 

“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Manon mused while expertly pining Aelin’s curled hair. “Someone party too hard the other night?”

Essar scoffed. “Does Aelin ever go to bed on time?”

“Funny.” Aelin scowled at her team. “Here I was thinking I left my mother behind in Doranelle.”

Her assistant ignored her. “Nesryn wants to know if she can share that video of you and Lorcan?”

“What video?” Aelin tried to recall what video footage Nesryn could be referring to, but she didn’t remember any video that she or Lorcan would’ve taken.

Then, “Oh, fuck.”

Essar’s brown eyes sparkled. “Nes thinks the Aelin Galathynius rendition of Love Shack will go viral.”

“Fuck.” Aelin didn’t have much else to say to that. It would totally go viral. Who wouldn’t want to watch Aelin and Lorcan sing that song together?

“I think she’s hoping it’ll be viral enough to make everyone forget your recent hospital stay,” Essar mused. 

Manon snorted. “It definitely will.”

“Though, it doesn’t really make sense to me.” Essar wrinkled her freckled nose adorably. “How does advertising your drunken shenanigans distract from your other drunken shenanigans?”

Aelin shrugged. “Essie, if I had any of those answers, I wouldn’t need Nes.”

“And you’d best remember you said that when it comes time to renew my contract.” The very woman in question appeared in the doorway, arms crossed and a smile on her face. Nesryn was a fierce woman on a good day, but at times such as these? It was best just to stay out of her way.

“I’m sure you’ll be quick to remind me.” Aelin rolled her eyes. “You always are.”

Good Morning, Adriata!, featuring Special Guest, Aelin Galathynius.

Aelin’s good mood was nothing but wisps of smoke by the time her interview ended. The hour-long conversation consisted of all the things she hated most about interviews: critical assumptions about her substance abuse and thinly veiled attempts to weasel out more information about her romantic life.

“I never want to see that woman again,” Aelin seethed as Essar quietly worked on removing her microphone. Aelin hadn’t waited for help from the crew, too afraid to lose her temper in the line of sight of a camera crew. She’d ruin all of Nesryn’s hard work. Again.

The publicist gave a curt nod. “I told Adarlan that a live interview was a bad idea.” She shrugged. “Perhaps this will teach them a lesson?”

Aelin shot Nesryn an exasperated look. “Have they ever learned a lesson?”

“Um. Well.” Essar’s eyes were wide with fear as she interrupted. “Speaking of Adarlan…”

Nesryn raised a dark eyebrow.

Aelin’s erratic emotions focused on Essar and her apologetic expression. “What?” she snapped, meaner than she’d ever intended to be with Essar. A kinder part of Aelin’s mind made a note to apologize to her later, once her mood cooled and her thoughts were on things other than murder.

“Adarlan actually called while you were in the interview.” A deer caught in headlights, Essar opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. Whatever she needed to say was bad news. “They’re flying in—tomorrow.”

Another Awkward Interview with Aelin Galathynius.

Aelin was watching the modern portion of Adriata flicker by when Rowan called. 

“Hi!” she greeted before the call could ring a second time. Rowan. He was exactly who she needed after that shitshow of an interview, especially with the news of an imminent Adarlan takeover.

But it would be okay. Rowan always made things better. Though, the recent memory of their last phone call made Aelin blush from head to toe. Yes, Rowan certainly had a way of making things better.

“When is your flight landing, baby?” Aelin charged on with the conversation. “I know you and Essar make all the plans these days, but maybe I want to countdown the hours like the loser I truly am.”

A light, strained laugh. “You aren’t a loser, baby.”

Aelin hummed her disagreement. “Are you excited to see me?”

Rowan was quiet for too long.

“Baby?” A frown tugged at her lips. “You still there?”

No answer.

Disappointment flooded her. Holding the phone up, Aelin checked the screen. Rowan’s name glowed back at her. The call was still connected, but Aelin wasn’t convinced her boyfriend was still there.

“Baby, did I lose you?” Aelin asked. “Rowan?”

“No.” A sigh from deep within Rowan’s soul. Perhaps, he wasn’t having a very good day either. “I’m still here, but, uh, I’ve got something really shitty to tell you. And I’m so sorry.”

Ice crept through Aelin’s’ veins. “What happened? What’s wrong?” The ice thawed to a tingly panic. “Is everyone okay?”

“Woah.” Rowan’s regret was evident. “Everyone’s fine, Ace. Promise. Well—sort of? Thea’s…”

“What happened to Thea?” Aelin didn’t mean to cut Rowan off, but panic was impatient. If something happened to Thea, it would absolutely be because of Aelin’s association with them. It’d be because of Aelin. 

And Aelin would fucking lose it.

Rowan huffed, likely annoyed at the interruption. “She’s sick, Ace.”

Aelin hated the strain in Rowan’s voice, the unique pain of having a sick child and not being able to do anything about it except help them tough it out. 

“There’s a horrible flu making its way through the daycare,” Rowan explained, and Aelin better heard the exhaustion in his voice then. Rowan was tired. Bone tired. “I thought we managed to dodge it until now, but it looks like it finally caught up to us—to her.”

“Oh,” Aelin remembered then the guilty excuses Rowan made the night before as he bowed out early from their phone call. At the time, Aelin was too busy basking in the afterglow to be concerned about a call from daycare. “Poor Potato.”

“Yeah.”

Aelin shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the silence. She frowned at how the seatbelt resisted her. Fuck, Aelin hated this, hated not being able to be there for Rowan. For Thea, too. If Aelin were home, she’d be able to help. Aelin could give some support, and she wanted to. More than anything.

Aelin wanted to be there to help carry the burden.

“I got her to sleep about an hour ago,” Rowan whispered. “So, I figured now was the best time to give you a call and fill you in.” He cleared his throat. “The last time we spoke… It wasn’t exactly the right moment.”

Aelin blushed, but the embarrassment faded quickly as she realized what Rowan was not saying.

“You aren’t coming.” The surge of disappointment was crippling. Aelin’s blood rushed through her ears, making her deaf to whatever Rowan said next. It was for the best. Aelin didn’t want to hear whatever desperate words of comfort he supplied her. Rowan didn’t need to apologize, but he would.

Aelin bit down on the inside of her cheek determined not to cry. Yet… Rowan wasn’t coming. He was going to miss her birthday.

This wasn’t right, Aelin thought to herself. None of this was right. Aelin was supposed to spend her birthday with her family. She wasn’t even supposed to be on tour now. Aelin always arranged her schedule to allow her birthday off. As far as vacation excuses, her birthday was the best one, and Aelin took advantage of it and used that time to be with her family.

Even during her stay in Prythian, Aelin booked a flight home to spend a few days curled around a fire in the mountains with her parents. Aedion and Lysandra, too. It was a blackout period. No performances. No promotion. Definitely no fucking interviews. Just… her family.

But this year, nothing seemed to be going as planned. She’d broken all of her rules. Because this whole week was filled with work. Any promotion for the last few dates of her tour was supposed to be long over. Interviews that felt more like interrogations, too. 

The concerts were different. Aelin volunteered this week because it was the only option, and she owed it to the fans she’d stood up when she got sick. She hadn’t minded when she made the decision, and Aelin was not about to allow herself to do so now. No grudges.

Because this wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“Aelin?” Rowan’s voice was rough with emotion. The only person who could take this news worse than Aelin was Rowan. He hated to let anyone down, but especially Aelin. Especially when it came to her birthday.

“Baby?”

Aelin took longer than she’d like to drag her way back to the surface, to get her wits about her and find something appropriate to say to Rowan. Aelin didn’t want to sound upset. Doing so would only add to Rowan’s unnecessary guilt.

“Yeah,” Aelin dragged the word out with a sigh. A quiet wave of tears escaped tears that Rowan would thankfully never see. Around her, the team pretended not to notice. Though Aelin could see how they sat at the edges of their seats, watching her from the corner of their eyes.

“I’m here, baby.” Aelin cleared her throat. She was an entertainer. Aelin could and would put on a brave face for Rowan. Even if he couldn’t see it. “Of course, you can’t make it, Rowan.” Her voice tightened around the terrible words. “Potato needs you, and it’s… okay. Totally. We’ll try again another time. I promise.”

“You aren’t upset?” Rowan sounded nervous, and Aelin hated it. Of course, she was upset, but that wasn’t what Rowan was asking her. He was afraid she was mad at him, which was ridiculous. Aelin told him as much.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Rowan’s words bled into one. “I promise to make it up to you somehow. It’s just. I can’t—”

“Baby.” Aelin could imagine his stricken face, the tightness she knew she’d find around the corners of his eyes, and how his nervous fingers would twitch with the need to do something. To fix it. 

“Rowan, don’t worry.” She forced out a laugh that rang false as it burned its way from her lungs. “We both know Lor will make sure I do something fun.”

Rowan growled something foul under his breath Aelin couldn’t make out. “Lysandra and Aedion already offered to watch Thee while I was out of town, but I was already unsure about having them babysit in the first place. They have a newborn. Liam’s, what? Two minutes old?”

This time Aelin’s laugh was genuine. She prayed Rowan couldn’t hear the tears hiding behind it.

“Fuck,” Rowan hissed on an exhale. “It was one thing to leave her with them when it was just going to be Thea hanging out with Aedion and forcing him to play Tea Party for the week, but now…” Another curse. “There’s no way in hell I can drop my sick toddler off with them. That’d be so fucked. And Liam—”

“Baby,” Aelin said softly, ending his miserable rant. “You don’t have to explain your decision to me. You never have to justify being a good dad, okay?”

Another pause. “I know,” Rowan said, at last. “I’m just disappointed.”

“I am, too,” Aelin admits, “but it’s going to be okay.” She made a disgruntled sound. “Well, my parents sure picked a swell time to travel the world.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, thinking about her happy, retired parents. Begrudingly, Evalin and Rhoe had gone on their cruise, unhappy about the timing of a nonrefundable, dream cruise and their daughter’s birthday, as well as the unexpected birth of their first grandkid. The whole family had all but pushed them up the gangplank, assuring Aelin’s parents that everyone would be fine in their absence.

Of course, it wasn’t Evalin or Rhoe’s job to watch Thea, either.

“You know how much I hate imposing on your parents, Ace.” Rowan’s voice held a firm edge, a warning. “It’s that much worse to ask Lys to do it. To see if my friends will watch my kid, so I can—”

“I know, I know.” Aelin hated how her tears quickened, chastised by her stressed-out boyfriend. “It was only a joke, Rowan.”

A heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just… I’m fucking exhausted, and I was looking forward to seeing you. But…”

“Now you can’t make it,” Aelin finished his sentence. The attention of her team burned Aelin’s face as they each quietly assessed the situation, the damage. Gods, Aelin had to look like such a fool, moping about her boyfriend of all things. There were much bigger problems in the world than spending one’s birthday without loved ones.

“I just…”

“Please, stop apologizing,” Aelin begged. Her voice was harsher than intended, and immediately, Aelin regretted her tone. “You have to be there for Thea, Ro. She’s your kid, and that’s non-negotiable.”

Rowan was quiet for another long moment. “This fucking sucks.”

“Agreed.” Aelin laughed darkly. “But we’ll be just fine. Take care of my kid, okay?”

Aelin Galathynius Seen Out in Adriata Prior to Concert.

All too soon, Aelin found herself alone in the charming little apartment-style hotel suite serving as her home for the next three days. Aelin fielded calls from various people as she decompressed, family and friends, and Rowan, but her replies felt nothing short of distant. No one would believe anything she said. 

Exhausted and sick of pretending, Aelin crawled into the oversized bed and tried to forget how the little apartment was booked with Rowan’s visit in mind. Aelin always traveled in style; it was one of the perks of being an A-list celebrity. But Aelin rarely booked a space as lavish as the one she currently sat in. All alone.

Rowan continued to text Aelin throughout the day, in between caring for Thea and Fleetfoot, and Aelin hated how his every other message begged for forgiveness or promised to make it up to her. She didn’t like it; she didn’t want this trip or anything else in their relationship to feel transactional. It wasn’t Rowan’s fault Thea got sick, and it certainly wasn’t the end of the world that Aelin would be without him for her birthday. Plenty of people experienced such a thing every day.

After all, Aelin wasn’t an idiot. The Ashryver-Galathynius-Ennar-Whitethorn Family would definitely make plans to correct this mishap. Though Aelin still found it weird, Rowan and her mother were in near-constant contact. Aelin was sure they’d discussed what to do for Aelin’s birthday upon all of their returns to Doranelle. Now that Aelin was to spend her birthday without her family, she had no doubt that those plans were being amplified. Spiraling out of control more like.

As the gloom of the day sank into Aelin’s bones, she snuggled deeper under the throw blanket waiting for her on the couch. Soundcheck was in a few hours. As she lay there, Aelin’s touring crew was pulling overtime to ensure the stage was set up properly for her arrival. Then, Aelin would be off to the races. For now, though, Aelin could sleep, and that was exactly what she planned.

Aelin Galathynius Tour Buses Arrive in Adriata.

The evening’s rehearsals went about as well as she expected. The day’s bad news left Aelin’s thoughts cloudy and her focus blurry, and she missed more than her fair share of cues. Ever the professionals, her team—a well-oiled machine of crew, band musicians, singers, dancers, and everything in between—took her mistakes in stride.

It made things ten times worse. If Aelin were anyone else, she’d have gone full diva on them, and that was putting it lightly. Aelin was a perfectionist. She held her team to the highest standards, but she had even higher expectations for herself for better or worse. Every missed cue and forgotten dance routine chaffed at her, even if she was quick to laugh it off in front of everyone.

No one commented—except for Lorcan, but Aelin recognized the worried look on her friend’s face, knew he’d noticed she was off her game.

Aelin’s sorry mood matched the weather when they departed the stadium, and Aelin retreated so deeply within herself that she barely heard her own thoughts much less the voices shouting her name. If there were fans waiting, Aelin didn’t notice. She barely noticed getting into the car.

“Did we get an agenda from Adarlan for the meeting tomorrow?” she asked Essar without preamble. To her credit, Essar barely blinked before switching topics, and Aelin realized then that her assistant had been talking to her. Aelin hadn’t heard a thing.

“No, nothing yet.” Essar tapped at her phone screen. “I can email the assistant again. See if she’ll give me anything, but they’ve got it locked down tight over there.”

Aelin scoffed. “Sounds about right.” A beat. “We need Sorrel.”

“She lands in the morning,” Essar replied. The woman bit on her lip for a moment, then said, “You know, we could send her in your stead. You don’t have to go at all.”

“I can’t begin to explain how tempting that is.” And it was. Aelin was incredibly tempted. Because fuck Adarlan Records and Havilliard Sr. “But it feels a lot like playing with fire. I should be there. Nesryn, too.”

Essar nodded. “You got it.”

Aelin smiled. “Thanks, Essie.”

The car fell into silence. Essar made arrangements for the meeting, and Aelin stared out the window, forgetting to hold a conversation. It was better that way. Aelin didn’t really feel like talking.

Her phone eventually snapped her out of it.

“Hey there,” Aelin answered with a smile. She chose to ignore the glances of those in the car with her. The Aelin Galathynius Camp was on Full Alert. Ress and Essar were the longest-standing members of her team; they knew the ins and outs of her moods better than anyone. Aelin would need to step up her game if she was going to avoid having a check-in called on her behalf.

“Hey, baby.” Rowan’s rich, warm voice washed over Aelin, and finally, she was able to leave the shitty day behind her. Aelin didn’t think she’d ever get over Rowan calling her that—baby.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Rowan sounded very guilty. “Just checking in.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Rowan, I already told you to stop fussing about me. You’ve got enough to worry about right now, and I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

Rowan made a displeased sound. “I know.”

“Besides, I’ll be home in a week.” Her heart skipped at the thought. Aelin was going home soon. To her new home—their home. To a well-earned vacation.

A signature Rowan Sigh. “I just…”

“Buzzard,” Aelin warned. 

He laughed. “Look, having me for a boyfriend comes with strings, Aelin, and this is one of them. Fussing.”

Aelin’s laugh was bright even as her heart squeezed with the oh-so-familiar ache of homesickness.

“How’s the kid?” Aelin changed the subject, preferring the focus to be on anything other than herself and her well-being.

“Out like a light,” Rowan said, relief evident in his tone. “Her fever is still going strong, but at least, we both got some sleep.”

“Good.” Still, Aelin frowned while thinking about the sick little girl. She wished she was there to help. “Give her a kiss for me.”

“Jealous. But I will.” He waited for Aelin to stop giggling before adding, “How are you, baby?”

Aelin was expecting the question, and yet, her humor deflated. Internally, she recited their promise: tell each other the truth. Don’t hide things.

So, she said, “Honestly? Kind of shitty. I’m bummed you aren’t coming, but… Shit happens, and again, I’m so close to a break that I can taste it. I’m ready to come home and get to work on our new home.”

Aelin waited eagerly for Rowan’s pleased reaction, but the line was quiet.

“Rowan?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Rowan laughed. “Sometimes, I forget you can’t see the dumbass expressions I’m making.”

Aelin grinned. “I love your dumbass expressions.”

“Thanks. I think.” The conversation lulled, and Aelin focused on the city as the car wove through Adriata. They were getting close to the hotel, and Aelin would need to let him go soon. She didn’t like to keep him on the phone while braving the chaos.

“I’m pretty excited, too,” Rowan said after a minute. “Though, I think your mother has already done most of the work for the house. She’s gone totally overboard.”

“I would be disappointed if she hadn’t.” Aelin laughed not for the first time at the mental image of Evalin Ashryver-Galathynius decorating their home, a confused Rowan on her heels. “That’s how the Ashryvers show their love, Rowan. You’ll get used to us.”

“I pray that I never do.”

Aelin Galathynius Fans Take Over the Sparkling City.

[mynewdreamwasyou]

Noisy Neighbors (84)

Surprise!

Content warnings apply. I leave you all hanging at the end, and for that, I do apologize. But it was leave it there, or wait another year for me to find the inspiration for that specific scene. A worthwhile compromise, I think.

Word Count: ~4300

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Aelin Galathynius Flees Orynth for Adriata.

Gods, Aelin was tired of the paparazzi.

Sometimes Aelin allowed herself to dream, to imagine a world where she hadn’t become famous. What would her life be like if the Cadre hadn’t broken onto the scene one inconsequential Saturday afternoon, while the band was lounging in Evalin’s beautiful sunroom, eating pizza and laughing at the fear in Fenrys’s eyes when he spilled marinara on the cream settee?

Life would’ve been simpler—peaceful, too. Yet, a young and eager Aelin; a scrappy, easy to anger Connall; a jokester Fenrys; a quiet, thoughtful Vaughan; a broody, misunderstood Lorcan; and an angry, angry Rowan wanted more. Needed it. The band had wanted more than to just make music. They had wanted to use it to carve their place into the world. They’d felt as if what they had to say could make a difference, too. And it did. Much to all of their surprise.

But… An unknown Aelin could take a commercial flight to wherever the hell she wanted without fear for her privacy, much less her safety. No one would pay attention to that Aelin. They wouldn’t hunt for her or broadcast her whereabouts to others in search of her. There’d be no worries about sending Thea back to daycare, and Aelin wouldn’t have to be a world away from her family.

Sure, a fameless Aelin would still have her problems. A few people would always recognize her as the heiress to Galathynius Industries, but that felt like nothing compared to the level of recognition Aelin had achieved today.

Yes, a handful of scheming business executives looking to secure their futures via the beautiful and charming daughter of an international conglomerate? Aelin would know exactly how to handle idiots like that. It was a non-issue. Aelin could run circles around them. Hell, it’d make her fucking day.

But this?

Aelin chanced a glance out the small round window of the jet. Even her sunglasses weren’t able to protect her from the blinding glare of a camera lense catching the sun. They’d been waiting this morning—again.

Yes, Aelin sometimes felt like she couldn’t handle this.

“Have you reviewed the outfit options for your upcoming events?” Nesryn claimed the empty seat beside her. Aelin’s publicist snaps her out of her melancholy, and she stares at her, slow to register her words.

Most the team had made it their mission to leave her alone for most of the morning. Other than the standard celebrity handling—when to be at the airport (far too early), did she take her medicine on time (no, but thanks for the reminder), what did she want for breakfast (nothing), and did she want coffee (always, duh)—Aelin was left to her own devices. She was happy for the peace, supping her bitter, too-hot coffee and staring into outer space.

After all, it wasn’t too hard to judge when Aelin was in a bad mood.

“No,” Aelin said, recognizing the petulance in her voice. She’d read the tabloids this morning, though she was not supposed to have. None of it made her particularly keen on clothes. “Any chance one of them possesses the ability to distract from how pregnant I look these days?”

But her publicist wasn’t one for self-pity. “Perhaps, take a look and see.” A pointed pause. “You pay Manon for a reason, after all.”

Aelin cut a glare in Nesryn’s direction, but the other woman only rose from her seat, abandoning Aelin in favor of better company. Aelin’s bitter words died on her tongue. Nesryn had a point, but she was loath to admit it.

With a sigh, Aelin dug in to her bag, searching for her cellphone. The aforementioned outfits were found tucked within an email from Manon, sent the night before. That was odd. 

Manon left nothing to the last minute. In fact, the protocol was to have Aelin’s wardrobe prepped months out in advance. A vague memory still haunted Aelin of a day in Doranelle spent trapped in the Fitting Marathon to End All Fitting Marathons. No. If Aelin’s team ever found themselves pressed for time, Aelin was almost assuredly at fault.

Curiously, the email subject line read, “Revenge.”

Aelin clicked on the email, opened the various attachments and skimmed through the presented options. She liked what she found.

The red one, Aelin typed out to Manon with a smile.

Aelin Galathynius Prepares for Rescheduled Dates in Prythian.

Their arrival time to Prythian was late—ridiculously so. Still, nothing compared to the sight of the sparkling city of Adriata as it and the surrounding ocean glimmered in the distance—except for maybe the soft, smiling Lorcan sitting at her side. A rare thing, indeed.

One look around the dimly lit cabin told Aelin the rest of their traveling party was asleep, but ever the night owl, Lorcan kept watch, content to lounge around and enjoy the quiet. Aelin wasn’t surprised that he waited until the last moment to wake someone; Lorcan preferred to be left the hell alone. At least, until Elide came along.

“I thought you might want to catch the view,” Lorcan whispered, nodding at the window and the city beyond.” That’s your thing, right? Cooing over the view while holding Scaredy Cat Rowan’s hand?”

Aelin’s heart squeezed. Old memories flashed before her eyes of days spent flying all over the world with the band, teasing Rowan for his cowardice even as she clutched his hand in hers for the landing. Personally, Aelin liked to watch, found the descent as thrilling as it was terrifying, but Rowan always begged her to keep the shade drawn, even though his eyes were already clenched shut.

And yet, Rowan had flown across the ocean alone for her. 

“Yeah,” Aelin croaked, overwhelmed by the love she felt for that silly, thoughtful man. “It is.”

Though Lorcan’s dark brows rose, he wisely didn’t ask questions. Looking out the window, Aelin could feel him watching her anyway, searching for the answer to his questions. Eventually, Lorcan sighed and settled into the chair beside her. The captain would wake everyone soon, but Aelin appreciated the gesture, this little moment for the two of them.

Aelin leaned toward him, resting her head on Lorcan’s shoulder. Together they watched as Adriata grew closer until, at long last, the cabin lights brightened and a voice on the intercom gently urged the passengers to prepare for landing. Sleepily, Aelin’s team fell into motion.

Without Elide to wake next, Lorcan lingered with her. Aelin laughed softly as Lorcan snapped a picture of them curled up together under the harsh interior lights and sent it to Rowan with some taunting message he wouldn’t allow Aelin to see. It was okay, though. She knew Rowan would fill her in later.

Aelin didn’t know what possessed her to ask, but as they gathered their things, Aelin turned to Lorcan. “Hey, any chance that you’d want to grab a drink with me?”

“Aelin Galathynius.” Lorcan’s surprise was clear—understandable, too. Aelin never asked to go out anymore, but she still thought the way he held his large hand to his chest, feigning a delicate sort of shock, was overkill. 

“Did you just invite me out for a drink?” He flashed her a smile. “I’m not sure how that boyfriend of yours would feel about you asking me out. Besides, I don’t know how many times I need to tell you, but I’m just not into you—”

Aelin shoved him, cutting him short. Their sweet moment from before was now fully in the past. She shimmied past him, hissing, “Oh, fuck off.”

“Red word,” Lorcan taunted. Reflexively, Aelin decked him.

“By the Gods, woman!” Lorcan rubbed his arm. “You’re so fucking violent.”

Aelin recognized the taunt for what it was. Lorcan loved to turn their insignificant bickering matches into full-fledged battles. It was his favorite pastime with everyone, but especially Aelin.

“Funny how you never get flagged for a red word,” Aelin sniffed as she walked away. Then she shot him a challenging look over her shoulder. “Well? You in or not, Salvaterre?”

"Oh, hell yeah!' His eyes sparkled with promise, and he grabbed his backpack in a hurry. Lorcan trotted after her, throwing an arm over her shoulder outside the plane. ,"What are you thinking, Ace?"

A smile played on Aelin's lips as she led them to the exit. 

"Oh, ho, ho," Lorcan laughed. "Man, that's a look I haven't seen in a while. I love that look!"

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently. "What look?"

Lorcan grinned. "The kind that promises that you and I are about to get fucking wrecked.”

Aelin shared his smile. “Any chance you’re interested in visiting the bar in Uptown that Cassian got banned from?"

Lorcan barked a laugh. "Hell, yeah. I’m interested.”

Aelin Galathynius Spotted At Adriata Airport.

After so many years, months and days on the road, Aelin’s team was a well-oiled machine. They made little time of getting everyone to their designated drop off locations. Aelin barely had to think about it. Instead, she spent the quick trip to the hotel catching up on emails and phone calls, mindful of the time difference between her and the rest of her world.

In her suite, Aelin wasted no time squeezing into a pair of overpriced blue jeans and her trusty leather jacket, pairing the look with one of Rowan's stolen hats. She wasn't much of a hat girl, and come to think of it, neither was Rowan, really. Yet, the cap served its purpose, particularly in trying to get Aelin to fly under the radar.

Lorcan said nothing of Aelin's outfit choice when he arrived at her door. He was dressed in a similar, all-black attire. His aim was the same—to remain undetected. A Lorcan Salvaterre spotting in Uptown Adriata would ruin all of their efforts to sneak Aelin out. The game would be lost. After all, where one found Lorcan, Aelin wasn't usually far behind.

And the city was on high alert. Aelin was baffled by how quickly the internet knew of her arrival. The touring schedule was public, of course, but it felt too quick, especially with how quiet her team was about Aelin's comings and goings.

Almost as if someone was leaking their plans.

But that was a problem for Elide and Nesryn to figure out. Aelin had enough on her shoulders as it was.

"I have to admit, I'm surprised by how long we've gone without being noticed," Lorcan said as they walked down the beautiful sandstone sidewalks. 

Aelin rolled her eyes, scanning the surrounding buildings. She wasn't confident that she knew where they were anymore, not after the whiskey she'd indulged in at the last bar. The shots they took on their way out of the hotel had only expedited the process.

But Aelin felt like they were close. They had to be. Adriata wasn't that big of a city, right? Right?

Lorcan threw an arm around her shoulders, an affectionate drunk. It was what made him so much fun. "It's almost like you're normal, Ace,” he slurred. “Just another Adratian, haunting the city nightlife.”

Normal. Her. This was the second time the thought had come up today. Aelin pushed the weird feelings aside, saving them for later.

"It's because you're keeping that big mouth shut for once," Aelin said, hissing as Lorcan swatted her, too offended for any more affection. Despite being a complete and total ass most of the time, Lorcan wasn't the type of guy to strike a woman, and even though he constantly reminded Aelin that she wasn’t a girl but Ace, Lorcan still struggled with retaliating in the manner he so often wanted to. 

Aelin, like the mature adult she was, stuck her tongue out at him. Her drunk friend laughed.

“Hey,” Lorcan said as he met Aelin’s quick strides with long, easy ones. “So, when are you going to admit that you’re totally fucking lost?”

Aelin glared at him. “Shut up. We aren’t lost.” As she spoke, she glanced around, searching for a familiar landmark. Okay, they were kind of lost. But only sort of. “We’re taking the scenic route.”

Aelin gestured broadly at the city stretched out before them. The part of the city they now lurked in had managed to preserve its historical look, even as skyscrapers rose around the beautiful red roofs and tan buildings.

Slightly behind them, Ress snorted. Just barely, Aelin heard him mutter, “You keep telling yourself that.”

Herding cats was how the security guard would describe his evening task. Even after all this time with Ress, Aelin had yet to find an argument in her defense for that one. Instead, Aelin made to sure to keep the paying the poor bastard—really, really well.

“Well, I think we’re lost,” Lorcan sang, loud and off tune. A frown. “Where were we trying to go, anyway?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. "To the karaoke bar."

Lorcan hummed his disbelief.

"I'm serious!" Aelin threw her hands in the air, causing her inebriated brain to misfire. She swayed unsteadily, saved only by Brullo's steady hand at her elbow and his disapproving frown at her side.

"Perhaps we should save the karaoke for another night, Miss Galathynius," he said gently.

Aelin narrowed her eyes. "No," she whined, "after tomorrow, everyone will look for me."

Emotion flickered in Brullo’s gaze, concerned and telling, but Aelin ignored it and pushed her uneasy feelings down, down, down. Aelin didn’t have time to mope. 

It was time for another round of drinks.

"Hey!" Lorcan shouted from afar. "I think I found it!"

Aelin blinked, gaze focusing on the hulking figure of her best friend, standing halfway down the street and waving like a lunatic. How the fuck had he gotten so far ahead of them?

Appearing to have noticed the same thing, Ress swore and hurried after the drunken drummer.

Aelin shrieked in delight, forgetting all about being quiet or staying hidden. She chased after her partner in crime. “You found it? Where?”

Lorcan flashed her a roguish grin and lead the way.

Remaining Tour Dates for the Dear Society Tour.

The karaoke club was a grungy sort of place, hidden down an obscure alley off the beaten path of a glittering tourist-centric city. It was its location that had managed to hide it from exactly the people Aelin was looking to avoid. Only the locals knew about this place, and while Aelin needed to be wary even of them, her odds were better at this hole in the wall than anywhere else in Adriata.

Aelin could feel the wariness in her after so much time on the road. She saw it in Lorcan, too. Her attention-grabbing capabilities were at an all-time high, and it was affecting everyone. It was a hard thing to complain about, though. Thanks to her very successful, never-ending tour and the clever maneuvers of her soon-to-be ex-record label, Aelin Galathynius was everywhere right now. Her music played on every radio station. Her face was on every tabloid. Things were going really fucking well, and it felt shitty to complain.

But, for tonight, Aelin would allow herself to let loose.

Aelin was too far in her cups to recall the name of the karaoke bar, but the place reminded her of the Sea Dragon back in Doranelle. And maybe that was what had drawn her here, the memory of a pub back home and a really, really bad day.

It should concern her that the way Aelin felt that night a year ago was very similar to how she was feeling now. A deep desire to forget and get fucking lost.

“I signed us up!” Lorcan announced, shattering Aelin’s thoughts. Her companion only had eyes for the stage, but that didn’t stop Lor from aiming a taunting finger at their security detail. “How about you two? You in or what?”

The look on Brullo’s face said it all, while Ress failed miserably at hiding the little smile crinkling his charmingly kind face.

“We’re working,” Brullo reminded the drummer.

“Suit yourself!” Lorcan shrugged. “Ace, the usual?”

A thrill ran through Aelin. “Hell, yeah!” She pointed at the bar. “The usual?” she echoed. Lorcan threw a thumb up over his shoulder.

“It’s going to be a long night,” Ress sighed. 

Aelin and Lorcan never had resisted a good karaoke bar—or competition. Because as the liquor flowed and the hour grew so late that it became early, that was what happened. Competition.

"I'm a way better singer than you," Lorcan insisted, finally drunk enough to make such a bold statement. "Rowan just wanted in your pants—that's why we let you join the band all those years ago."

Aelin gasped, outraged at the accusation.

"Didn't you say that Rowan was the only one to vote against you joining?" Ress blurted, forgetting himself. Brullo glared at his partner. Drunk Aelin couldn't blame him for the slip in focus. Her personal protection team had slipped into the overtime realm a long while ago. Sober Aelin would be very apologetic for keeping them out for so long.

"Psh." Lorcan waved a hand. The drink he held sloshed precariously, threatening to spill on everyone and anyone in the vicinity. "He wanted her to join. Rowan just isn't very good at expressing himself."

"You're one to talk," Aelin slurred, pointing a wobbly finger at her friend. "How long did it take you to man up to Elide?"

Lorcan gaped at her. "I—" He scrambled to defend himself, but Aelin cut him off. "Oh, wait. You didn't. Elide had to take the first move." She swirled her cocktail with its straw. "Chicken."

"Who are you" —Lorcan slammed his drink down and leaned her way, towering over the table.— "calling chicken?"

Aelin clucked, impersonating the bird in question.

Her friend scoffed. "Oh, now it's on." The finger he gestured with was threatening, and unlike Aelin's unsteady hands, it didn't waver. "You. Me. That stage—now."

"You sure you can handle all these people"—Aelin waved toward the full audience—"watching you, Salvaterre? There's no drum set to hide behind."

Lorcan rolled his eyes, standing from the table and leading her away. "You're not the only one who can sing in front of a crowd, Galthynius."

Ress sighed as he followed them. "Here we go."

The Karaoke Dream Team: Aelin Galathynius and Lorcan Salvaterre Are At It, Again!

Aelin was something far past drunk by the time she and her entourage stumbled into the hotel that morning, dawn nipping at their heels. It was a good night, though. A lot of fucking fun. Perhaps too much fun if the way the lobby lighting burned her retinas was any kind of sign.

Ress muffled a yawn as they rode the elevator in relative silence. Lorcan and Brullo were long gone, but as always, Ress was determined to see her to safety.

“What?” he asked, noticing her stare.

Aelin smiled. “You’re a good friend, Ress.”

“You’re so drunk,” Ress laughed. Then, “Thank you. You, too.”

“I’m going to hug you now,” Aelin declared, wobbling his way. “Please don’t sue me for harassment.”

Ress welcomed the affectionate gesture, an arm wrapped loosely around her. He laughed again. “If I was going to sue you for harassment, I could fill a folder with the shit you’ve said over the years,” he said with smiling eyes. “A drunk hug is low on the list of offenses.”

“Well…” Aelin frowned. “Shit.”

The elevator jerked to a stop, and Ress flashed her a shy smile. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed, Pop Star.”

Aelin Galathynius Fans Flock to Adriata.

As Aelin crawled into her neatly made bed, the sun was already on the horizon, creeping its way out of hiding. They’d stayed out late. Really fucking late. Later than anyone had planned. At least, Aelin didn’t need to be anywhere in the morning… Later today? Fuck. 

No, the fun wouldn’t begin today—Doctor’s Orders and all.

Exhausted, Aelin stared at the ceiling, silently begging sleep to come and quiet her busy, drunk brain. Yet, the quiet of the hotel only made things worse and brought a frown to her face. Aelin never liked the quiet, even before Thea Whitethorn entered her life, leaving glitter and laughter in her wake. 

No, Aelin had always been desperate for noise. For the companionship that came with it. Growing up as an only child, Aelin had learned to entertain herself. School had never brought the companionship she longed for, either. Aelin had always found herself the outsider.

So, Aelin learned to cope. She compensated for loneliness and quiet with writing and wisecracks. She abused the old piano in the family study until the music started to come out coherent, until her mother enrolled her in lessons and her father bought a new, better one to encourage her.

And then she met the Cadre. And life was very loud.

“Fuck.” Aelin rolled onto her stomach, pressing her heated cheeks into the cool, crisp white pillowcase. “Go to sleep, you lousy drunk.”

Unsurprisingly, her verbal orders and self-abuse did nothing. Aelin scrunched her eyes closed until it hurt, praying that it might beckon sleep to come sooner, but it only made her head ache. Or it could be the alcohol.

Aelin recognized that sleep wouldn’t come soon. Her mind was too restless, and her body…

It ached, and not from the dancing she did at the club or from her performances or even her injured foot.

Aelin needed sex. She’d spent the last few days ignoring the growing desire, but the alcohol in her system was making it harder and harder to keep doing so. The small acknowledgement was all it took for her body to awaken fully. Aelin’s breasts grew heavier by the secnd, her nipples tight and uncomfortably pinned to the mattress.

Aelin whined, flopping onto her back. Once again, Aelin cursed her own clumsiness. Because her boyfriend had just been with her, and she’d been too fucked up from painkillers and self-deprecation to find the desire to take advantage of his nearness.

Absentmindedly, Aelin ran a hand across her chest. She gasped.

Fuck yeah. That was what was bothering her.

And her boyfriend was an ocean away.

Aelin tried to do the math, puzzling out when and where of Rowan’s location back home in Doranelle. But the veil of whiskey and the haze of her arousal only made the calculations more difficult. Time zones never had been her thing, anyway.

Deciding not to risk waking him, Aelin stared at the ceiling once more. Her brow pinched as she ran an experimental hand down the front of her body, sighing at the feeling. The simple touch was all it took to urge alive every nerve in her body. Her pulse quickened, and her breathing grew uneven.

Aelin cupped an aching breast and moaned at the relief even as the simple touch stirred her blood. She forced her mind to relax and allowed her thoughts to wander to all the places she’d been denying it. Immediately, Aelin’s thoughts wandered to Rowan, imagining what it would be like if her boyfriend were there with her, and oh, how she wished he was.

Aelin wished for Rowan’s warmth in her bed pretty much every night, but especially in the mornings when she woke up alone. Sleeping alone was dreadful on a normal night, but tonight? Tonight, Aelin shivered without Rowan’s broad shoulders hovering over her frame. She felt weightless without his hips pressing hers into the mattress. Her skin was ice without his warm breath and hot hands to warm her.

Those hands. Aelin moaned at the thought, wishing it was one of them slipping under the waistband of her underwear and not her own. That it was Rowan’s finger teasing her core, his thumb pressing at her clit. 

Aelin squeezed her breast again, trying to summon the rough sound of Rowan’s bedroom voice in her mind, the little sounds that escaped him as he worshipped her body. Low whispers and deep moans. It was Aelin’s biggest turn on.

Fuck, Aelin needed to hear his voice.

“Hey, I was just thinking about you.” Rowan’s smile shone through the phone line, brighter than the rays of sun coming through the curtains in her rooms. “What’re you up to this early?”

“Hey,” Aelin echoed, flushing at the way she sounded. Her voice was so low and breathless. “Are you busy?”

A long pause followed, and Aelin wondered if she’d lost him. Fuck, that would be disappointing, though not nearly as crushing as it would be if Rowan were, in fact, too busy for her.

“No, baby. I’ve always got time for you.” Rowan’s voice had transformed, dropping low and hushed. A sun slipping behind the clouds. “You need something, baby?”

Aelin shivered. “Just you, baby.”

A hushed swear escaped him. “Well, I’m right here, baby.” Aelin isn’t able to stop the whimper that escapes her then, not as her finger circled her clit. Rowan chuckled. “Tell me what you need.”

“Um.” A flush crawled up the back of her neck, suddenly shy. “You’re alone?”

The ghost of a laugh, gentle and fond and free of judgement. “Of course, baby. You think I’d do this with an audience?”

“Maybe.” Aelin’s petulance evaporated as she tightened the circles around her clit. She gasped. “No. I know you don’t.”

“That’s right,” Rowan hummed. “I don’t like to share—not you. So, tell me what you need?”

The Sparkling City of Adriata.

---

I don't tag because it takes a ton of effort and half of the time it glitches anyway. Follow my fic blog for update-only posts @thewraithsofmorhogg-fics.

[mynewdreamwasyou]

Pride and Prejudice

Mr. Darcy: How are you this evening, my dear?

Elizabeth Bennet: Very well... Although I wish you wouldn't call me "my dear".

Mr. Darcy: [chuckle] Why?

Elizabeth Bennet: Because it's what my father always calls my mother when he's cross about something.

Mr. Darcy: What endearments am I allowed?

Elizabeth Bennet: Well let me think... "Lizzy" for everyday, "My Pearl" for Sundays, and... "Goddess Divine"... but only on very special occasions.

Mr. Darcy: And... What should I call you when I am cross? Mrs. Darcy?

Elizabeth Bennet: No! No. You may only call me "Mrs. Darcy"... when you are completely, perfectly, and incandescently happy.

Mr. Darcy: Then how are you this evening... Mrs. Darcy? [Kisses her on the forehead] Mrs. Darcy... [Kisses her on the right cheek] Mrs. Darcy... [Kisses her on the nose] Mrs. Darcy... [Kisses her on the left cheek] Mrs. Darcy... [Kisses her on the lips]

[mynewdreamwasyou]

Noisy Neighbors (83)

Is this post a day early or a week late? Lol, here it is regardless.

Word Count: ~3200

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Aelin Galathynius Wraps up Erilea Tour Leg in Orynth with Two Knock-Out Performances.

"Thank you once again, Orynth!" Aelin shouted into the stadium, toeing the line between being obnoxiously loud into the microphone and blowing everyone's eardrums.

"This had been yet another incredible show!" Aelin paused for the cheers. She smiled. "As always, you were all so very welcoming. It's always a joy to come here and play for you."

The band continued playing in the background as the fans cheered. "Hopefully, it won't be too long until I'm back," Aelin told them. "I hear the city really shines in the winter."

She reached the end of the right side of the stage, trying to get as many of the audience as possible. This used to be the point when Aelin would jump off the stage and clear the bit of space between the stage and her fans. But, at some point, doing so had become too risky.

Aelin had been grabbed too many times, lost too many rings and bracelets. At first, she stopped wearing anything important on stage, and then she stayed further back. Then, finally, she'd stopped.

It felt pretty shitty of her. But she was scared.

"Though it also gets pretty fucking cold here," Aelin teased, turning on her heels and heading for the other side of the stage. Her ankle was sore, but it was nothing compared to how it had been the past week. Aelin was determined to lose the booth for Prythian.

"I guess I'll have to come back in the summer, huh?" Aelin laughed with the crowd. "Try not to hold it against me."

Elide's part in the outro music mix reached its peak, and Aelin headed for the exit as her backup singers harmonized. There hadn't been more problems with the lift since that one night in the city, but the slight fear remained that it would malfunction again.

Aelin shoved the worry away. "Thank you!" she called out, waving goodbye as she hit her mark. Then, as the lift descended, she blew the crowd a kiss.

The two Orynth dates had been fantastic shows. And even better crowds. Aelin and her touring company were riding a real high, from one fantastic show to the next.

And Aelin was eager to keep the feeling, to take it with her all the way to Prythian.

Aelin Galathynius Shares Post-Show Selfie.

Aelin desperately needed a drink.

The thought was fleeting. Aelin was sure to let it go as quickly as it had appeared. It was easy. The treacherous thought was soon lost amongst the millions of other specific little things taking up space in her mind.

It was late—even by Aelin's standards.

She'd found it all too easy to get wrapped up in the hustle and bustle, the excitement of her VIP event following the concert. Meeting the fans was always her favorite part. Sometimes, it even outranked the performance.

Aelin's smile ached from all the pictures, but she felt the discomfort was worth it. She'd had a hell of a time. Aelin was even a little sad to see her fans go.

"We'll need to get out of here before we rack up any more fees," Essar said, snapping Aelin out of her thoughts. "Gavriel might have a stroke if this tour gets any more expensive."

Aelin rolled her eyes. It was her uncle's job to ensure the tour was as profitable as possible, but sometimes, Aelin didn't care about the money. She wasn't in this to make money, anyway. Aelin was lucky enough that she didn't need any money. Her parent's generational wealth more than covered any of Aelin's living expenses.

And then Aelin became famous, sold millions of albums, and became independently wealthy. She could cover a silly fine or three if it meant spending more time with the fans.

She told Essar as much. Her assistant shot her a look that said Gavriel would disagree. But Essar still smiled. Aelin's team appreciated Aelin's love for her fans. She was the same way about the group of people propping her up at any given minute. Aelin took care of her people.

Aelin followed her team towards the dressing room. She'd stay there while security assessed the exit.

She sighed. "How long until the flight?"

"We'll fly out the day after tomorrow," Essar replied. "Yrene suggested we give you a day of rest before moving on to the next city."

"Oh." Aelin blinked. She didn't realize that. "Okay."

Essar missed nothing. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Aelin said too quickly. She nodded. "I just — It feels a little weird sometimes. That my doctor communicates with my team instead of me."

"Oh." Essar's face fell this time. "I didn't even consider..." she trailed off, worry wrinkling her face. "Oh, no. Aelin, I—"

"No, no." Aelin stopped her assistant there. "Don't get all worked up about it." She caught Essar's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Sometimes, my life catches me off guard sometimes. I forget that being rich and famous means, I don't even have to worry about my own health. Other people do it for me."

Something about that last sentence felt wrong to Aelin, but she moved on before anyone could point it out.

"Fuck!" Aelin exclaimed, startling those in the room. "I'm starving. Where's dinner?"

Tradition stated that Aelin's touring company—every single crew member traveling from city to city with her—would go to dinner tonight. They always did so to mark a special occasion. The end of a tour leg, someone's birthday, or an anniversary. They were all celebrated.

Being on tour was like being in another world, removed from everyone else. Your tour group was family. So, you celebrated with them.

Asterin joined the pair then, looking excited by the prospect of food. "Essie booked the company a reservation at this real swanky place in Uptown."

The stylist winked. "It's going to burn one hell of a hole in your wallet, Ace."

"Asterin!" Essar hissed, swatting the other woman. Asterin simply beamed, always pleased to ruffle Essar's feathers. "I did not say that."

Aelin smiled at them. "Everyone deserves a treat. I certainly don't mind."

Besides, it meant that Aelin could get that drink she was craving. And some very, very greasy food. With cheese. Lots of cheese. She'd earned it.

"You may or may not have the entire restaurant booked out," Essar told Aelin innocently. There was no greater workout than a stadium performance.

Aelin wasn't surprised by that. Her security detail probably begged Essar to make such arrangements. They were necessary, though. Aelin doubted any restaurant had the space for her entire touring company and their regular business.

She'd have to leave one hell of a tip.

The Dear Society Tour Takes Over Uptown Orynth.

Dinner with her company flew by. It was a mesmerizing sort of chaos, as was always the case when packing so many creative spirits into one building. The voices were loud, and the laughter was even louder.

Aelin was having a really, really good time.

It made returning to the hotel that much harder. Finally, Aelin knew she needed to wrap things up, thank the restaurant staff for taking such good care of them, and head to her temporary home away from home. After all, Aelin's team couldn't call it a night until she did, and Aelin knew they had to be tired.

But she felt remorseful about leaving so soon. Aelin had already missed far too many of these evenings with her tour family, had made far too many excuses and hidden away in various hotel suites, and spent the evening in her doggie pajamas talking to a sleepy morning Rowan.

Time zones were a real bitch.

Suddenly, Aelin realized that her time with these people was ending. At least, for now. All too soon—or not soon enough? It was hard to decide—Aelin would be back on tour with new songs, a new album, and her new label.

Still, she wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet.

"Ace," Lorcan interrupted Aelin's thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Your chariot awaits," he told her with a smirk.

Aelin snorted. "Is that what we're calling it these days?"

"Well, yeah." He unfolded himself from his chair and offered Aelin his hand. "What else are we calling it?"

"Uh, I don't know." Aelin stood. "A car?"

Her friend scoffed. "Boring!"

Aelin pinched Lorcan's stomach, earning a scowl. "I think I'm already excited enough." She waved towards the windows on the front of their building. It hadn't taken long for the paparazzi to find them. It never did.

"Don't you think, Lor?" she asked, pushing the point.

Lorcan's mouth formed a line.

"I'm coming with you," he declared, suddenly becoming the serious Lorcan most of the world witnessed. "Ellie's already jumped on the bus with the rest of the crew. I'll meet her there."

Aelin's brow pinched. "You can't just ditch your girlfriend, Lor."

"I didn't." Lorcan shrugged. "Technically, Elide ditched me. The bus is already gone." He shot her a smile. "So, either you give me a ride, or I'm walking back."

Aelin Galathynius and Lorcan Salvaterre Exit Orynth Restaurant, Hold Hands. Old Flames Rekindled?

"Honestly, what the fuck?" Aelin exploded the following day. She scowled at her phone screen. Nesryn had sent over the article this morning without a message. Just the link to the article on some seedy, unreputable tabloid.

Lorcan groaned from the couch. "I'm sleeping here."

"You have your own room," Aelin reminded him, harsher than was necessary. She'd feel bad for snapping later, but now. Now she was mad. "Although these motherfuckers might think otherwise."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Lorcan grumbled before covering his face with a throw pillow. He groaned into the floral print, "Fuck, what was in that tequila?"

Aelin glanced up from her phone. "You're the one who insisted on eating the worm, Lor. You did this to yourself. Remember how you puked last time?"

"Insisted? You dared me," the pillow mumbled Lorcan's hiss.

"Oh, stop being such a little bitch."

Lorcan bolted upright. "You're a bitch!"

Aelin's friend immediately regretted the decision, falling backward onto the small couch. This sight of his considerable form draped across the loveseat, feet hanging off one end, would be hilarious if it weren't for the current news cycle.

"Says you and the rest of the fucking world," Aelin lamented.

Her tone grabbed Lorcan's attention.

"Ace?" He struggled to sit up once again. The floral pillow plopped into his lap. "What's up?"

"Have you been paying any attention?" Aelin exclaimed, round the couch and flopping into the available space.

Lorcan blinked. "No, I've been dying."

Aelin growled and tossed her phone into his lap. Lorcan took the device, looked at the screen, and then snorted. It infuriated her. He was so calm. This was a catastrophe.

"I didn't know you could get pregnant holding hands," he said, feigning surprise. Lorcan's dark eyes glittered with humor. "Someone didn't pay attention during Sex Ed."

"Only a man whose body is not being criticized could make a joke about this." Aelin crossed her arms. It wasn't fair.

The paparazzi had been everywhere when she and Lorcan had left. Their appearance was of no fault to the restaurant and its staff. No, the cameras were all thanks to Aelin. They just knew how to find her, and they did. Every. Time.

So, they'd run. Lorcan, trying to make light of a shitty situation, took Aelin's hand and laced it with his. He'd thrown her a shit-headed grin, and they ran as fast as they could for the SUV. Ress had held the door open, and Brullo had the car running. It was a quick and silly escape.

They'd laughed the whole way to the hotel bar.

"Ace." Lorcan gaped at her, wearing the look of a man who'd just connected some very shitty dots. "Fuck." He ran a hand through his hair. "Shit, I feel like I need to beat someone up for you."

Aelin rolled her eyes.

"Seriously," he pressed, "whose ass should I kick?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Gee. You sure know how to make a girl feel special, huh?"

Lorcan smirked. "Elain can attest to that."

"Ugh." Aelin elbowed him before taking back her phone. She savored savoring his yelp of pain. "You're so gross. I hate you."

"You do not," he responded, petulant. Lorcan rubbed at his shin bone. "You love me."

Aelin Galathynius Pregnant! But Who Is the Father?"

"Honestly," Rowan teased later that day, "I'm starting to get jealous."

"Why?" Aelin asked, drawing the hotel curtains open. She regretted it immediately as the bright midday light flooded the room. She groaned in pain and closed the curtains as quickly as possible.

Aelin wasn't doing as terribly as Lorcan, who'd finally retreated to his own room citing a need for cuddles, but she had a headache from the dehydration.

Rowan chuckled. "Okay, I feel a little less jealous now."

Aelin frowned at her phone. The expression didn't last long with Rowan's smiling face on the screen. She grumbled, "You're supposed to be nice to me, remember?"

She felt like she was constantly reminding him of that.

"Oh? Is that so?" Rowan thought it over. "I'm pretty sure that's not how I won you over in the first place."

Aelin snorted and groaned. "I'm going to hang up on you if you keep making jokes at my expense, Buzzard."

Rowan sighed, but a smile sparkled in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Baby."

Aelin hummed her forgiveness and flopped face down onto her bed. The soft comforter quickly wooed her back into the realm of unconsciousness, but before it could, Aelin turned her head to face the video chat on her phone.

"I hate that you're such a morning person," she complained, and this time, Rowan laughed freely. A beautiful smile stretched across his usually stern face. "It's incredibly convenient for me. Not to mention annoying."

"Aelin." Rowan rolled his eyes. "It's not morning here, remember? I'm what? Six hours ahead?"

Aelin whined.

"And it's not morning there either?" Rowan made a face, calculating the time difference. "Right? Fuck, I hate time differences."

"Me, too," Aelin said.

Rowan smiled softly. "Maybe you should just go back to bed, baby. You have the day to rest, right?" His voice had gone soft, lulling Aelin back to sleep. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"No," Aelin cried. She wasn't ready to get off the phone with him yet. Aelin knew she hadn't been without him for very long, and Aelin also knew he'd be with her again soon. But it didn't matter.

Aelin missed him.

Rowan's expression was soft. "So, don't hang up."

"Huh?" Aelin struggled to blink her eyes open.

His next breath was a laugh, soft and sweet and fond. "Just go to bed, baby. I'll stay on the line with you while you sleep. Do you think it will bother you if I play some? I need to get some writing done while Thea is down."

Aelin smiled. "No, that's kind of perfect."

Rowan's face asked the question.

"I miss getting to listen to you play," she explained. Hearing Rowan play had always been a balm to her soul, soothing in a way nothing else ever was.

Rowan smiled. "Perfect. Get some sleep, Aelin."

Rowan Whitethorn Still Living at Aelin Galathynius Townhome Despite Cheating Rumors.

Aelin slept the day away. Later, she'd blame it on the hangover, on the drinks that she and Lorcan had thrown back at the hotel bar the night before. But, really, Aelin was just tired.

Touring took a lot on a person, but so did having the world constantly gossiping about them. Aelin was exhausted by the endless scandals, the constant twisting of words, and the manipulations of pictures. It took its toll on a person.

Nesryn did her best to shield her from the drama. However, Aelin knew that she made it hard for her publicist; she was continuously checking her phone, scrolling through social media, and reading comments on her pages.

It was unhealthy. Aelin knew that.

Eventually, Rowan's soft singing pulled Aelin from sleep. Aelin's boyfriend wasn't the type to sing of his own volition very often. No, that was more Aelin's thing than Rowan's; she was always singing and causing a commotion wherever she was.

Aelin worried he would stop if Rowan knew she was awake. So, she pretended to sleep, kept her eyes closed, and listened to Rowan's gentle guitar playing.

Aelin enjoyed these little moments best. The ones when she got to listen to Rowan's work, as he sang under his breath and toyed with the lyrics and harmonies.

All too soon, the music stopped.

"Hey, Sunshine," Rowan breathed.

Aelin blinked her eyes open. "How did you know I was awake?"

Rowan smiled. "It's the frown. It gives you away every time."

Aelin groaned and pressed her face into her pillow. "Ugh," she said, "my mouth tastes like shit."

"Do you have a lot of experience with that?" Rowan's expression was troublesome. "Tasting shit?"

"I like you less and less by the minute, Buzzard." Rowan barked a laugh.

"Liar." He smiled.

Rowan set aside his guitar and stretched. Aelin drank in the sight of him, appreciating the stretch of his muscles and the flash of skin caused by the raising of his shirt.

Rowan caught her gaze and shot her a knowing smile. "Feeling any better, baby?"

"Yes." Aelin snuggled closer to her pillow. "Much."

"Good," Rowan said. He lifted the phone, and Aelin watched as he carried it through the townhome, changing locations.

He sighed into an armchair in their bedroom. "So, are you ready to be rid of Erilea?"

"You know how it is, Ro," Aelin said, stretching across the mattress. She wiggled her fingers and toes, waking her limbs. "It's bittersweet. I'm happy to be one step closer to completing the never-ending tour, but—"

"You're also said to be one step closer to completing the never-ending tour," Rowan finished for her. His green eyes were understanding.

"Yeah." Aelin made a face.

"Well," Rowan said, sinking deeper into the armchair, "I, for one, am happy to see it end. Selfish, I know, but I'll be glad to have you all to myself again."

"Oh?" Aelin sat up and ran a hand through her messy hair. "I'd like that, too."

They shared a smile.

"You're on your way to Prythian soon?"

"Yep," Aelin confirmed. She leaned against the headboard, thinking of the week ahead of her. "I've got some press shit to do—again—and then I have a very special guest joining me."

"Oh?" Rowan's frown was exaggerated. "Who?"

"Jealous again?" Aelin teased.

Rowan's eyes flashed. "Terribly."

"Good," Aelin said. "He's awfully cute."

Signs of the Dear Society Tour Appear in Adriata.

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Noisy Neighbors (82)

Sunday Update! Maybe I'll be able to make a habit of this again. We'll see how it goes. To say that I proofread this post would be an utter lie. We spun it through the editor program, and here's what we have, lol. May the typo gods be kind to me.

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Aelin Galathynius Arrives at Anielle Concert Venue! The Tour Continues!

"Okay, okay," Aelin said, attempting to quiet the crowd between songs. "So, I think it's time we all address the elephant in the room." Aelin grinned as the crowd quickly fell silent, hanging on her every word.

Aelin paused for effect. She felt it as the stadium sucked in a collective breath of anticipation.

She raised the microphone to her lips slowly, focusing on keeping her weight on her good foot. "Lorcan did, in fact, cut his hair, and it is, in fact, an international crisis."

Elide laughed loudly enough that Aelin noticed, even over hundreds of laughter and gasps of horror. Aelin looked in Lorcan's direction, winking when he threw her the bird. Aelin could always go into comedy if the whole singing thing fell through.

"It's okay, though," Aelin said. She took a few unsteady steps. She'd definitely pushed her limit this evening.

"No, really!" Aelin insisted when the audience protested. "Like, it's just hair, right? It'll grow back!"

The audience's response was mixed.

Aelin smiled. "I mean, that's what I always tell my mom, anyway."

More laughter. A few disagreeing cries.

Lorcan's infamous mane had only lost a few inches of hair. Manon had to practically pin the man down to do it, insisting that Lorcan desperately needed a trim.

But the real fans? They knew, and they would notice right away.

Aelin laughed into the microphone and took a few more steps along the edge of the stage. She glanced out into the stage house and could barely make out the shapes of the people beyond the stage. But they were there, hanging onto her every word.

"No, but seriously," Aelin said, turning a tad somber. "Let's talk about why we're not dancing tonight, eh?"

"More like not walking," Lorcan taunted from his seat behind the drums. He thumped the kick drum for emphasis.

This time, Aelin flipped him off. But, again, he laughed, head thrown back and smile wide.

She waited for the chuckles to fade. "And by we're, I mean me, of course." Aelin pointed at herself with her free hand. "It's actually pretty simple, really."

The audience hummed. Aelin hobbled around, unable to sit still while monologuing. Someone on her team had procured a boot for her foot before the show, but the brace was an eyesore. She'd fought against it until the very last second, until a touring crew member called Places.

Rowan won, as he often did regarding Aelin's health and safety. Aelin frowned, and he wasn't even on the same continent as her anymore.

The thought panged through her chest. Aelin's only solace was her sweet bedtime conversation with Thea. The little girl was very concerned. Thea seemed to take after her father in that regard.

Hopefully, Aelin had entered her life in time to save Thea from a lifetime of being a fussy, worrywart.

"I'm a dumbass," Aelin deadpanned. The crowd roared.

A member of Aelin's touring crew entered stage right, crossing towards her in the dark with a stool in hand. Aelin accepted it with a smile as thanks before turning back to the crowd.

"Right. So." Aelin placed the stool at center stage. "If any of you ever needed a reason to stay away from wily coffee stables while consuming alcohol—" Aelin plopped onto the stool, relying heavily on her good ankle and foot to support her. She knew she'd pay for this all in the morning. Not that she'd ever tell Rowan.

"—allow me to show you," she continued, sweeping back her hair to reveal the stitches on her temple. Aelin was amazed that she'd kept it hidden thus far.

The rumor was that Aelin could have them removed tomorrow, but Yrene was on a plane between Doranelle and here. So Aelin's team was waiting for her approval before making the call.

"And I get to wear this really cute boot everywhere." Aelin attempted to lift and wiggle her foot, wobbling precariously on the stool. She laughed off her clumsiness. "If I keep it up, I will also have a matching arm brace. Now that'll be a real issue."

She picked up the guitar that had appeared beside her. The crowd hummed with anticipation.

"So, I guess the moral of this story is Drink Responsibly." Aelin wrinkled her nose. "Gods, I sound like my mother."

Laughter. Aelin grinned. Strummed the first chord of Death By A Thousand Cuts.

"Personally, I've always followed my father's motto: Be good, or be good at it."

The crowd roared.

Elide plucked the notes from her accompanying part, encouraging Aelin to wrap up her speech. She was known for spending too long running her mouth to the fans during concerts. It wasn't shocking, and Aelin didn't take offense at being called out. She liked to talk, liked to entertain people however she could.

But the show had time constraints, and Aelin was the one who paid for running over.

Aelin breathed a laugh into the microphone, her brain running faster than the rest of the world. "Maybe my personal saying should be: Do as I say, not as I do. Let everyone else learn from my mistakes and shit."

She'd certainly lived more than her share of lives.

Aelin Galathynius Shares Backstage Photos on Instagram.

"You're in trouble," Asterin sang as she danced toward a tired and sweaty Aelin. "Nesryn is going to be so mad at you."

"What did I do now?" Aelin asked with a sigh. She accepted her water from Essar and resisted the urge to guzzle it down. "I haven't been offstage long enough to cause another scandal."

Asterin raised an eyebrow. "Be good, or be good at it?" Essar snorted. "Do as I say, not as I do?"

Aelin wrinkled her nose. "Yeah," she sighed. "Someone's going to take that the wrong way and run with it, huh?"

Manon materialized with a scoff. "I'm pretty sure your breathing is enough to set someone off, Ae." The stylist took a moment to appraise Aelin's appearance. Then, she tutted, "You'll need a shower before you go to your meet and greet."

"Gee, Man." Aelin frowned. "You sure know how to make a girl feel pretty."

"There'll be press there," Manon replied curtly. "Surprise."

Anger flashed through Aelin, brief and unexpected. "What?"

"Nes loss the fight with Sr.," Essar explained softly. Her brown eyes shone with an apology. "Adarlan Records insisted that there be a media presence. You know, to combat the rumors."

"Excuse. Me?" Aelin tried her hardest not to snap at her team, her friend—family. But she couldn't help it.

Asterin whistled. "You should've seen that woman's face when the reporters showed up." Asterin's dark eyes were wide. "I knew that woman had a mean streak, but damn."

"I..." Aelin trailed off, so mad that she didn't know what to say. Meet and Greets were sacred on her tours. Aelin could use them for publicity, to prop herself up in the eyes of the media with shiny, happy moments from her interactions with fans.

But she never did. For a reason.

These meetings were about her fans. Aelin never wanted the media circus that followed her from city to city, country to country, continent to continent to interfere with that.

Asterin held up her hands in surrender. "Don't shoot the messengers, Ace. You know that we're only here to support you."

Aelin almost snapped back and said something cruel and unnecessarily hurtful, but she bit it back, sucking in a sharp breath. She held it for as long as possible until her vision blurred and her lungs screamed.

The breath hissed between her teeth as she released it. No one spoke.

"I'm going to go make a call," Aelin said.

She walked away.

Aelin Galathynius's Dear Society tour continues to be a great success.

"Gavriel, what the actual fuck?' Aelin clenched the phone in her hand and shouted at the receiver. Her uncle was present at the show, somewhere amongst the many moving parts that made up one of her concerts. But Aelin didn't have the patience to wait for him to come to her before yelling.

"The isn't Adarlan's fucking concert. Or their tour. It's mine," she hissed. "This is my tour. My show. My venue. My meet and greet with my fucking fans."

"Aelin."

Gavriel's tone stopped Aelin from continuing. It promised murder. Her uncle was an easygoing guy—much like his son—but even Gavriel's impeccable patience had a limit.

Aelin had first found that limit years ago on some sketchy Wendlyn back road, back before anyone knew anything about the Cadre. Some ten-plus years later, Aelin had perfected the art of pushing her manager just far enough.

Aelin took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm serious, Gav." Manon appeared, reaching for Aelin's tangled hair, but she waved her off. Aelin knew she needed to get cleaned up and look presentable for the fans waiting to take pictures with her, but Aelin was just so mad.

"How did Havilliard Sr. even get people into the room? With me? Without my permission?"

It was an important question. After all, Aelin had spent years carefully crafting a wall between her and the outside world. Her team—or "camp"—was made up of people that Aelin trusted to keep her secrets and protect her from those that would do her harm.

Rowan often referred to them as "The Fortress," an uncomfortable, if lighthearted, reference to the period in their lives when Rowan wasn't on that team. It didn't seem possible that less than two years ago, Aelin had had Rowan on her blacklist. It was the only way she'd kept him at arm's length for so long.

"Nes said she tried to keep them out," Aelin said slowly, "but she lost the argument. Apparently, my team had already made plans—promises."

Because for Havilliard Sr.—a man on Aelin's blacklist in all but name—to have access to one of Aelin's spaces, to get people into the same room as her without her publicist knowing...

That was quite a feat. Unfortunately, it also wasn't possible.

Except... via her manager.

"Aelin, you aren't doing very well right now," Gavriel sighed, and Aelin's heart tripped over itself. How could he possibly know such a thing?

"You're in every magazine," her uncle continued, "on the home page of every damned news site, and 99% of what's being said is incredibly unkind. Hell, and even less of it isn't even a lie."

Aelin felt his words like a physical slap in the face.

"Your notoriety won't always be a positive thing," Gavriel continued, oblivious to Aelin's shock. "It can't be. One day, your image won't be able to keep up. You won't be able to control the narrative anymore. You're already struggling."

Aelin opened her mouth to speak but could find no words.

"People already grow tired of it all," Gavriel finished.

"Like you?" Aelin hissed. Her hurt made her defensive, and that made her angry. Like a cornered animal trying to ward off further attack.

Gavriel breathed harshly. Aelin's arms broke out in gooseflesh. The back of her neck, too.

"It's true you've caused me to go prematurely grey, what with all your antics and shit, Aelin," Gavriel said, his voice softening. "But you're also my family, and I'm not talking the blood kind."

Aelin held her tongue. A rare thing.

"I'm talking about the chosen kind, Ace." The pet name on Gavriel's lips made Aelin smile. He rarely used it, preferring to use her full name in that exasperated, fond tone of his. "Even if you also happen to be my ex-niece-in-law."

Aelin snorted at the fucked up family tree. She couldn't help it.

A smile entered Gavriel's voice. "The point is, you're my family. Hell, I've spent more time with you than most of my actual blood relations. You and those idiot boys."

Aelin's dressing room door creaked open. Just a little. Enough for Gavriel's familiar tawny eyes to peek into the room, trying to suss out if the admission had softened Aelin's mood or not.

He met Aelin's teary eyes and smiled. "Is it safe to enter?"

"I called you to yell at you, asshole," Aelin sniffed. "It's not fair to turn it all around on me and make me cry—I'm mad at you."

Their call ended as Gavriel stepped inside, closing the door behind them. Aelin's other friends had slipped out already. They knew that, sometimes, it was better to leave one of Aelin's moods to him. Or Lorcan.

Aelin threw herself into Gavriel's arms. He laughed softly and wrapped his strong arms around her. "Serves you right for bitching me out without getting your facts straight."

"And those facts are?"

Gavriel sighed. He'd go to his grave one day sighing about something Aelin did or said. "Adarlan Records is pretty fucking pissed at you right now, Aelin. I'm not sure I'll ever understand what you did to piss that man off, and I'm not sure I want to know."

Aelin's laugh was watery. She pinched him in retaliation.

Gavriel huffed. "You've always had a way of getting under that man's skin, but shit, girl. I'm worried you've pushed him too far this time—all of those assholes. The label is just looking for a reason to come after you."

"They can get fucked."

Gavriel snorted. His expression begged for mercy.

Aelin sighed, releasing Gavriel from her hug. "Don't worry, Gav. I'm following every rule in the book. There's nothing for them to hit me with. You can thank my dad and Nes for that."

"And the incredibly overpaid Galathynius solicitor," Gavriel deadpanned. "I'm sure he's helpful."

Aelin tapped her knuckles against his arm. Lightly. "That man will get to retire very early with just the money he's making off of me."

Her uncle rolled his eyes.

"So," Aelin began, uneasy, "how exactly did the reporters get passes to my meet and greet?"

Gavriel had the decency to look guilty. "I caved. I know, I know. But, it just felt like the right move. Our best option."

Aelin made a face.

He continued, "We needed to give them something, some "positive" publicity." He shot her a look. "I figured they'd then lay off you—of us—for a bit. That label has a real stick up its ass these days.

"So, I said yes to the request, and I know that I should have cleared it with you, but I also know that you would have vetoed it as soon as you heard the word Adarlan."

Aelin scowled. She hated he was right. Aelin would never have taken the time to consider the benefits of playing the game with Havilliard Sr. It was much more satisfying to deny the man whatever he wanted, even to her detriment.

Gavriel had made the right choice.

"It's still fucked of you to surprise me like this," Aelin told her manager. "You're in trouble for the foreseeable future."

He laughed. "I'll bring you something sweet for breakfast tomorrow to make up for it."

"It'll take at least a week for me to forgive you," Aelin said.

Gavriel grinned.

And that was what made Gavriel such a good manager.

Aelin Galathynius Addresses the Drinking Rumors, Explains Away Her Sprained Ankle, and Shows Off Stitches.

Showered and dressed in her pair of favorite black jeans, Aelin rushed the door ahead of her security. She kicked it open.

"What's up, Party People?" Aelin shouted into the room, grinning from ear to ear. The room screamed.

Manon made a sound in her throat. "Lame, Ace."

Aelin ignored her. "You all waiting on someone?"

Gods, she was exhausted. Bone tired. Aelin had had a marathon of a day following a hell of a week, and she'd topped it all off with a two-hour concert on a bad ankle and a raging headache.

Aelin could hear the call of her bed back in Doranelle, but there was a list of things that she needed to do before she could sleep, much less head home to a warm bed and even warmer company.

At the top of that list? Hanging out with her fans. After all, they were the only reason that Aelin was here. These people were the only reason anyone considered her important enough to host a meet and greet, the only reason for any of the albums and merch littering the table.

They were the only reason anyone knew her name.

"Aelin!" A voice called from the corner.

Her gaze flicked towards the gaggle of people herded to one side, guarded by no other than Nesryn and Gavriel. The burn of anger returned at the sight of them.

Nesryn hissed, silencing the woman who'd called for her. Havilliard Sr. had promised the reporters access to the room, but not even he had the power to make Aelin interact with them.

Aelin was only here for the fans. Her carefully crafted smile held strong as she joined the crowd and mingled. It'd get easier as the night progressed and the fans' joy rubbed off on her. Soon, Aelin's extroversion would kick in. Then, the night would fly by.

"Who wants to take some pictures with me?" she asked with a smile, cocky until her dying breath.

The room cheered.

Yes, Aelin owed everything to these people. Because of them, Aelin was standing in this room tonight, chit-chatting and having a good time.

It certainly wasn't because of the reporters.

What Exactly Goes on at an Aelin Galathynius Meet and Greet?

No tags. I may (or may not based on last post's tags) reblog later with tags. 🤷‍♀️

[mynewdreamwasyou]

Surprise! This was requested a lifetime ago, but I saved the prompt because it was an idea I really liked. 

The prompt: Ok I need to know now what exactly went through both Rhoe and Evalin heads when the say the 5 scruffy boys and what the conversation after that much have been like both between Rhoe and Evalin and them and Aelin

Word Count: ~3200

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-

"Hey, can my band practice here?"

It was a harmless question, really, the kind of question that any teenager might spring on their parents from opposite ends of the breakfast table. Still, Aelin's heart raced as the words flung themselves out of her mouth, echoing in the pristine white kitchen of the Galathynius townhome.

Aelin's parents screeched to a halt as the words bounced off the crystal chandelier above them and shattered her mother's pristine smile into a million tiny, confused pieces.

"Your... what?" Evalin said.

Aelin winced. There was no use hiding her immediate regret. She knew that quiet tone, knew the mix of emotions that were brewing behind it. While Aelin's temper matched her father's—a wildfire, explosive and all-consuming—her mother's anger was a tempest, quiet and calm.

Until it wasn't.

"My..." Aelin's brain scrambled to find an explanation, an excuse. Anything. Because Aelin was in a rock band, and she definitely hadn't told her parents—until now.

"My band," she said. Her heart banged against her ribcage. Aelin swallowed, trying to calm her pulse, but panic consumed her.

"Oh, you know," Aelin continued before her mother could say something. She waved an indifferent hand. Yes, that would work. Aelin just needed to play down the severity of the matter, and maybe—hopefully, by the love of the gods—her mother wouldn't piece it together that this was why she'd started skipping her piano lessons.

The arch of Evalin's perfectly shaped brow told Aelin her mother saw right through the ploy.

Shit. Aelin charged ahead, "A band—like, with instruments and-and singing, and—"

"I know what a band is," Evalin snapped as Aelin's father, Rhoe, snorted. Evalin shot her husband a reprimanding look, but Rhoe ignored her; his blue eyes sparkled as they connected with Aelin's. Her father was enjoying this, the bastard.

"Right." Aelin tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear. "So..."

"What I don't know," Evalin said, interrupting her daughter. Aelin was thankful not to hear whatever nonsense was about to come out of her mouth, "is what you meant when you said, my band."

"Well, you were the English major in college—"

"Do. Not."—A threatening finger pointed in Aelin's direction, the immaculate red nail polish glowing in the bright morning light—"Speak to me. About college."

Aelin grimaced. Her father's eyes flickered with a warning, even as he hid his amusement behind an oversized coffee cup. This was his way, act as a neutral party and watch as the battle played out before him.

It was hard to blame him. With Aedion off to boot camp, Aelin's father was officially outnumbered.

"Mom," Aelin whined. This was not the point of this conversation. Aelin wasn't looking for another lecture.

"College," Evalin huffed, pushing her plate of fruit away from herself. Rhoe raised a brow at Aelin as if to say, Now you've done it.

Aelin sighed, "Mom..."

"College is where my daughter is supposed to be going during the day," Evalin lamented, eyes trained upward, pleading to the gods. "But instead, she decided to take a year off."

Aelin narrowed her eyes at how her mother's voice changed as she quoted her; Aelin did not sound like that.

Evalin threw her hands into the air. "Now she's coming and going at all hours of the day. Galivanting to gods-know-where, doing-gods-know-what, with gods-know--"

"Okay, okay." Aelin interrupted, unable to bear the indirect scolding any longer. "You've made your point. Your rebellious daughter is a letdown, and you're embarrassed to explain to all of your friends that I declined Prythian University."

"One of the best colleges in the world," Evalin reminded her daughter. Aelin rolled her eyes. "And you were accepted. With scholarship."

"We're rich," Aelin blurted, exasperated. "I don't need scholarships. If anything, I'm just taking money away from people who actually need it. You don't see how fucked up that is?"

Her father's expression turned thoughtful. Rhoe leaned back in his chair. "You know, Ev, she's got a point."

Evalin cut her husband a dark look. "You're not helping."

"Neither are you," Aelin shot back. "So, can my band practice here or not?"

"I don't see why not," Rhoe replied as Evalin hissed, "Absolutely not."

The kitchen held its breath. Aelin watched her parents stare at one another; a silent argument brewed between every blink and sigh.

Gods, she hated when they did this.

"Fine!" Evalin relented, at last. "I'm sure this house is a hundred times safer than whatever backwoods shack you've been going to for practice, anyway."

Aelin thought of the shady room they rented three times a week to practice. The outdoor shed on the Galathynius property was a million times safer, but Aelin bit the inside of her cheek. Her mother so did not need to know those details. Nope.

"So," Rhoe flashed Aelin a grin that was all too familiar. She'd seen it on herself a thousand times before. "What kind of music does your band play?"

"First of all," Aelin tipped her chin upward, "I take offense to your tone."

Rhoe Galathynius's laughter came from deep in his belly.

"Secondly?" Evalin asked flatly. Aelin knew her mother was not looking forward to any of this.

Aelin threw her mother Rhoe's lopsided smile. Her mother was going to faint. "We're a rock band."

-

"Absolutely not," Evalin hissed. She turned to Rhoe. "I can't believe you've allowed this to happen."

Rhoe's brow rose. Aelin's father rested a hand on his chest in a way that said, Me?

From her perch on the window seat, Aelin watched with her mother as five unruly boys toppled out of the hunk of metal Lorcan called a car. Oh, how Aelin wished they'd used Vaughan's car for a change. It was just as shitty as Lorcan's, but it looked nicer than it was. 

All a ruse, Vaughan had said one late night when the battery died. Vaughan explained, patting the hood: He looks pretty, but he's just like any other guy: unreliable.

The memory made Aelin grin. Vaughan had been going through a breakup then, and their ordinarily chill bassist had developed a penchant for the dramatic. It was a development that Aelin lived for. Dramatic Vaughan was something Aelin hadn't known she needed.

"Now, now, Ev," Rhoe cooed. He leaned over his wife to peer out the window, too. "You know that when it comes to Aelin, you and I don't allow anything to happen."

Aelin scowled. Her parents could at least wait until she left the room to discuss her.

"Rhoe Galathynius," her mother hissed, unappeased. "This is not funny."

"Gods, could the two of you stop being so weird?" Aelin whined. "It's bad enough that you insist on meeting them first—like this is some kind of date or some shit—but do you have to watch them like this?"

"Of course, we have to meet them first!" Evalin's mouth was set in a firm line. "I need to know who you're spending so much time with."

"How did they all fit in that car?" Rhoe mused aloud. He turned to Aelin. "Is there some kind of height prerequisite to joining your rock band? These kids are giants."

Aelin's protest died on her lips. But, now that her father pointed it out, Aelin would never unsee how incredibly tall her bandmates were. Like, all of them.

Okay. That was weird.

"Goodness." Evalin pursed her lips. "Do any of these boys know how to use a comb?"

Rhoe rolled his eyes playfully in Aelin's direction.

But Aelin didn't see the humor. Panic set in. This was a horrible idea, she realized. Aelin never should have suggested it to the band, much less actually acted on it. Aelin needed to go out there and stop them from unpacking.

Practice was canceled. Forever, probably.

"Oh." Evalin tilted her head. "Well, he seems nice."

"Who?" Aelin asked, curious which of her bandmates had so easily impressed her mother.

Evalin pointed. "That one there in the dress shirt."

Aelin scrambled for the window. She'd never seen one of her bandmates wear anything nicer than a clean t-shirt. Aelin didn't think any of them owned a shirt with buttons.

"Rowan?" Aelin cried.

Of course, Evalin would find something about him to approve of. Rowan was only the biggest asshole in the band, and that was saying something, considering that Lorcan was a member of the same band.

"Is that his name?" Aelin's mother replied innocently. Too innocently.

Aelin narrowed her eyes at Evalin. She knew that tone well. "Yes, and before you pick your favorite—Rowan's a huge dick."

Evalin gasped. "Aelin!"

Aelin felt no remorse. She and Rowan clashed at every band practice, meeting, or outing—since her audition. The rest of the bad was desperate to get the pair on the same, but nothing seemed to work as of yet.

Fuck. Now Rowan was here, and not even her parents' presence would dissuade the bastard from picking a fight with her. Well, at least that would make him lose some points with her mother.

Right?

Desperate to change the topic, Aelin's father asked, "How about that one over there?" Rhoe made a face. "Is that kid holding a book?"

Aelin knew who her father had identified without looking. "That's Vaughan," she answered. Rhoe waited for the rest of the answer, and Aelin sighed. "Vaughan's only ever playing the guitar or reading something."

"Huh." Evalin made a face. Aelin guessed that being a book nerd was not what her mother expected.

"And if he's not doing either of those," Aelin continued because she couldn't help herself, "it's probably because he's too stoned to do much of anything."

"Aelin," Evalin scolded as her father choked on a laugh. "Are you smoking--"

The doorbell chimed. The gods were kind.

"Oops! Gotta go get the door!" Aelin said with a grin.

Ignoring her mother's calls, Aelin hurried for the front door. Aelin had never bothered hiding the shit that she got up to in high school, and she wasn't about to start keeping secrets now that she had graduated.

Nineteen. What a weird age. Old enough to be considered an adult but still young enough to be called a teenager.

-

"Dude!" Vaughan's voice was faint through the heavy oak door. "Do not ring that bell again."

Fenrys quickly responded, "It's been ages, V. It's hot as hell out here."

"You gotta give the butler time to find his way to the door," Lorcan taunted. Aelin could imagine his shit-eating grin. She scowled as she cleared the last few steps to the door.

"She doesn't really have a butler, does she?" Connall was wary. "That'd be... weird."

Aelin would recognize the hateful scoff that followed anywhere. Flames of rage licked her skin, but Aelin paused, resting her hand on the brass doorknob. Despite herself, she wanted to know what he'd say about her.

"A lot of things are starting to make a lot more sense," Rowan Whitethorn hissed.

Aelin clenched her teeth, though she was unsurprised by Rowan's lousy attitude.

"Don't. Start." Lorcan's playful tone was gone.

"Don't what?" Rowan growled.

Before a fight could begin, Aelin swung open the door. "What's up, assholes?"

Her bandmates gaped.

Fenrys was the first to react. "What's up?"

"That's what I said, wasn't it?"

"I--" Fenrys flailed, looking at a loss for words. A first.

Aelin used a hip to prop open the door. She crossed her arms, insecure and defensive of her home. She knew it was a lot; that's why she'd avoided this moment for so long. And yet—

They were a band—her friends, sort of. She wanted them to accept her. As she was.

"I knew it!" Lorcan blurted. He grinned triumphantly. "I fucking knew it!"

"Knew what, exactly?" Aelin asked.

"You act as if you had no idea," Rowan accused Lorcan, narrowing his eyes at the drummer. Aelin was amazed that he could speak with his teeth clenched so.

Lorcan huffed. He threw a hand Aelin's way. "I mean, just look at her."

"Um. Rude," Aelin said. "Wherever you're going with that statement—it's rude."

The twins snickered, but Lorcan stood his ground. "Does she not just reek of rich girl vibe?"

Rowan's stern gaze flicked her way, and his head tilted as if considering Lorcan's question. Aelin felt her hackles rise, prepared to defend herself from whatever was about to come out of Rowan's mouth.

"But," Lorcan continued before Rowan could voice whatever mean thoughts brewed behind those cold, green eyes, "it's hard to know for sure, you know? Just look at how she dresses."

"How I dress? What's wrong with how I dress?" Aelin exclaimed. "Look at how you dress."

Lorcan glanced down at his white tank top and black jeans. He frowned, confused. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Yeah," Fenrys agreed. He was wearing a similar, if cleaner, outfit. "Rowan's the one who showed up dressed for a job interview."

The boy in question huffed. "Because I did have a job interview, Fen. Not that you would know anything about that."

"Hey!" Fenrys's jaw dropped in offense. "That-that was—"

"Hello!" Evalin Ashryver Galathynius chirped from behind her. Aelin's heart dropped at the sound of her mother's voice. Nothing good was going to come from this interaction.

Her bandmates quieted, each turning towards Aelin's mother. Her heart raced. This was it; this was the moment she dreaded.

Fenrys was the first to snap out of it. "Hello," he echoed. The troublesome smile he wore only worsened Aelin's concern. "I'm Fenrys. What's your name?"

Aelin narrowed her eyes. "She's my mother."

"But you can call me Evalin," her mother said.

"I'm Connall." Connall waved.

Realizing he was next, Lorcan coughed, "Lorcan."

Vaughan snapped his book shut. He ducked his head and mumbled a hello of his own.

That left one bandmember left.

Rowan stepped forward, more confident than the rest of the band. With an earnest expression, he held out a hand. Evalin shook it with a surprised smile.

"I'm Rowan," he said. "Thank you for letting us practice here—at your home."

Aelin gaped. What the fuck?

"Aren't you sweet?" Evalin cooed.

"Uh..." Aelin blinked. "Okay. Do you idiots want to practice, or will we just spend the afternoon flirting with my mom? Because ew."

"Who's flirting with my wife?" Rhoe asked, appearing in the doorway. Evalin broke into musical laughter, smiling as Rhoe's hands came to rest on her shoulders.

"No-no one," Rowan stuttered, standing straighter. The rest of the band laughed. Her parents, too.

Aelin's face burned. This was a terrible idea.

"Ugh! I hate all of you."

[mynewdreamwasyou]

I made the mistake of checking the date of my last post for NN... Seven months. It’s actually insane. The pandemic burnout is real. I hope you all are doing your best, too. 

Anyway, here’s a little NN Aelin-Rowan to make up for it. I tried to keep everything on the lighter side. Or as best I could considering the place I left you all at. It seemed wrong to smack you all in the face with angst after such a wait. I still kind of feel like the “voice” is weird here, but I can’t tell if that’s because I’m warming back up to NN Aelin or because NN Aelin was in a Mood, lmao.

Small PSA: I emptied/erased my inbox. Don’t take it personally. It was kind of an impulse cure to my anxiety about not being able to answer everyone. Besides, it’s been so long that I actually felt weird answering now.

Anywho, on to the links:

Noisy Neighbors Masterlist

Noisy Neighbors Spotify Playlist (Main)

Inbox | Fic Sideblog | AO3

Aelin Galathynius Fans Hold Their Breath As Tour Cancellation Rumors Swirl. Will Aelin Axe More Dates?

The following day, Aelin woke up to the sound of Rowan's soft snores and the feel of his arms wrapped around her body. She ignored the protests of her bladder and lay there, savoring the quiet, sweet moment, and for a bit, Aelin allowed herself to imagine what it would be like for this to be a typical, regular morning. Not a one-off, unique appearance of her boyfriend, but a standard in her day-to-day.

Aelin respected Rowan's decision not to travel with her. He'd never been the kind of guy to trail behind a woman, dependent and complacent. Yet, that was what made the two work together. Aelin was as complicatedly independent as Rowan, and at the end of the day, they leaned on one another because they chose to.

And then there was Thea, the need for her to have a regular, as-normal-as-possible life surrounded by the rich and famous. Thea was Rowan's top priority, and Aelin respected that, too. Loved him even more for it.

Even so, it would be nice to have this every day.

Adarlan Records Declines to Comment on Upcoming Aelin Galathynius Concert Dates.

"You all know it's a thirty-second walk from the front doors to the car, right?"

The hurricane that is Aelin's team froze in place, turning one by one to look at Rowan. Sadly, it hadn't taken very long for them all to arrive and shatter Aelin's peace, but her bruises and stitches weren't going to hide themselves.

Manon glared at Aelin's boyfriend. The smoking hot curling iron in her hand was menacing as it hovered a breath away from Aelin's vulnerable ear.

Asterin stood in the center of the room, mouth hanging open, as she stared at him. Aelin's outfit for the day of travel hung from her curled fingers, waiting for the clothes steamer to heat. It always felt silly to Aelin to press out the wrinkles of an outfit that would inevitably get wrinkled on a plane, but Aelin didn't make the fashion rules.

If it weren't for this team, Aelin would have simply chosen to stay hidden in her hotel room for the next forever, running up her room service and shitty movie rental bill. Aelin had the money for it, and becoming a weird hotel hermit seemed appealing when the other option was to face the music.

Ironic, considering Aelin was a musician.

Rowan rightly paled under the intense stares of the Blackbeak women. But, despite that, he held his ground. He was, after all, one of the few people willing to stand up to Aelin.

"You've been at this for hours," he complained, sounding oddly young. Rowan crossed his arms, and his green eyes landed on Aelin, seeking her support. "Is there some kind of event or something I don't know about? Should I have brought a tux?"

"It wouldn't have hurt," Manon quipped.

Aelin smirked and arched an eyebrow, daring her boyfriend to continue. Rowan, naturally, rose to the challenge.

"Seriously. Are we about to waltz down a red carpet or take all of ten steps down the sidewalk?" Rowan ruffled his hair, flustered and frustrated. Aelin bit her lip; she always found him adorable when he got like this.

"Honestly," Essar snapped, exhausted and cranky. Rowan's eyes snapped to her. "It's as if you've never done this before."

Aelin's assistant pushed her glasses up her nose. They were the most significant sign of Essar's exhaustion. The woman rarely wore anything but her contact lenses outside of the privacy of her own home.

Essar's gaze landed on Aelin, and she tensed. "Are you sure that he was in that band of yours? Can you say honestly that you haven't managed to mix him up with some other silver-haired guitarist?"

Asterin cackled, clutching the outfit in her hands for dear life. Even Manon smirked, but she soon dismissed the conversation with nothing more than a turn of her shoulders, resuming her job of curling Aelin's hair.

Aelin, however, pretended to think the question over. "I suppose it's possible," she mused, meeting Rowan's betrayed gaze in the mirror. "I did do a lot of drugs while writing those albums, and don't even get me started on tour life with the Cadre."

Rowan scoffed, but it sounded like a growl. "You're so fucking rude, Ace."

"Huh." Aelin blinked, acting as if she'd only realized such a thing was possible. Rowan grumbled behind her. "I guess I could have mixed him up with someone else," Aelin continued, "but this one is cute enough to make up for it."

And like that, Rowan cracked a smile. Beamed, really. The women in the room looked torn, caught between annoyance and surprise at the rare expression on Rowan's face. The grumpy man didn't smile like that very often.

Aelin smiled. She did that, made Rowan grin like some kind of schoolboy.

"If you keep moving your damn head around," Manon growled, interrupting the moment, "I'm going to burn off one of your ears."

Aelin laughed, unafraid.

"Hey now." Rowan caught Aelin's gaze in the mirror, eyes sparkling with playfulness. "I happen to like her ears and would prefer them intact."

Aelin nodded in agreement. "We'd all be in a lot of trouble without them. But, you know, hearing is important in my line of work."

"Then why do you have such a hard time listening?" Essar taunted from the other side of the room.

"Oh, burn," Asterin chirped, beaming. Laughter burst from Rowan's lungs; Aelin scowled at all of them.

Manon hissed. "Seriously, sit still."

"So, are you planning on wearing Rowan's shirt out the door then?" Asterin wiggled the pantsuit in her hands to serve her point. "Or are you ready to change?"

"I'm under orders not to move," Aelin sniffed.

Manon pulled on her ear. Aelin yelped.

"Please," Essar begged, looking done with the people in the room, "don't tempt her, Asterin. Nesryn will yell again."

Manon clicked her tongue, ignoring Aelin's scowl. "We could make it work."

Aelin's attention flicked to Rowan, who watched the room with a bemused, if impatient, expression. "What do you think, babe?" She smiled as he met her gaze. "I think I could pull the look off, yeah?"

Rowan sighed. He took his time responding.

"I'd prefer no one else ever see you without your pants on, Ace. But" —Rowan looked pointedly around the room. At all of the people standing around.— "here we are."

Aelin Galathynius Publicist Remarks on Date Cancellation, Citing "Unforeseen Illness and Vocal Rest."

"As of now," Essar began as they squeezed into the elevator, "the rehearsal is still on."

Aelin's assistant was the only reason that Aelin ended up anywhere she was supposed to when she was supposed to.

Essar peered at her from over the phone. Those glasses of hers hung onto her straight nose for dear life. "Do you think you're up for it? Should I arrange for everyone to dry run the routine, or should we cancel?"

Aelin wrinkled her nose at the thought of dancing. Her ankle had made some improvements, but the progress was little. Aelin wasn't sure she was ready for a two-hour, full-out run-through of her show. In fact, she knew better than to test her luck, especially considering how her luck had been as of late.

"You're not cleared to dance," Gavriel chipped in, reading her thoughts. He frowned. Much like the other protective men in her life—of which Aelin was beginning to think there were too many—Aelin's Uncle-Manager felt strongly that Aelin should cancel her upcoming dates in Anielle.

However, none of them was any match for Aelin's stubbornness.

"Ugh." Aelin stomped her good foot, scowling when she wobbled. Rowan caught her by the shoulders, laughing good-naturedly. Then, without missing a beat, he tugged her close.

"This is so stupid!" Aelin crossed her arms. She wasn't sure why she was so upset; Aelin didn't even want to dance most days. Not the choreographed, performative kind of dancing. Of course, there was a time and place for it, but often Aelin felt too rehearsed.

Rowan smoothed a hand down her arm. "Let's wait and see what the doctor says when we land," he compromised, voice gentle. Aelin knew what he was doing, saw right through his expert handling of her moods.

His lips brushed her ear, and she shivered. "You need to take care of yourself, Ace."

Damn, Rowan was good. Bastard.

Aelin glared at him.

"Have you forgotten about that time that Connall ate the stage floor and was told to sit out the Prythian dates?" Gavriel asked. His expression was stern.

"He didn't listen," Aelin said, recalling how their stubborn friend played both the Velaris and Adriata shows with a concussion. It served him right for trying a new stage trick with his brother unrehearsed.

Aelin made a face. "Didn't he bust his ass again?"

"Yeah, he did." Rowan tilted his head. "Remember what happened then?"

Aelin frowned deeply. She remembered.

Connall spent another two weeks on the sidelines, away from the loud music and flashing lights of the Cadre stage performance. They'd had to fly in a backup guitarist to cover for him.

His stubbornness cost him. Connall missed the entire Antican leg of the tour.

Rowan and Gavriel shared a look that Aelin pretended not to notice.

"Okay, but there's a pretty big difference between then and now," Aelin said, bracing carefully as the elevator slowed to a stop. Her pulse spiked as she anticipated the chaos waiting for her on the other side of the large metal doors.

"Oh?" Gavriel looked intrigued. "And what is that?"

"Let's be honest," Aelin said. "We had musicians to spare in The Cadre. We had what? Three guitarists—five if you want to count Vaughan and me. Then there's Lor. If you can count his sorry excuse for guitar playing."

Rowan snorted. A smile threatened Aelin, too, despite the topic and what she was about to say.

"Basically, while I love Connall," Aelin continued, "we were more than capable of going on without him."

The doors opened to reveal the hotel lobby. Staff and Aelin's team waited for them in the lobby. The press situation had created an all-hands-on-deck mode for everyone involved. Aelin wouldn't be surprised if the place declined her as a guest in the future.

"Where exactly are you going with this, Aelin?" Gavriel asked, following her off the elevator. He was braced, prepared to catch her at a moment's notice.

"Well." Aelin dropped her shades onto her face, bracing for impact. She sighed. "There's only one Aelin Galathynius, after all."

That fact didn't fill Aelin with the same kind of pride that it usually did.

Aelin Galathynius Departs Briarcliff- Headed to Anielle?

As they made their way to the main doors, Rowan slipped his hand into Aelin's. She smiled weakly at him, trying to push away the nerves that plagued her. Aelin could perform in front of thousands of people without a second thought, but faced with any sort of news outlet, she fell apart.

"I still think we should have gone out the back," Rowan grumbled. Aelin was inclined to agree with him, but Nesryn had had the better argument. It was essential to be seen amidst a scandal, she'd said.

That was why Aelin kept reminding herself that she had been caught doing way worse—looking far worse, too.

And, of course, the gossipmongers would have a lot less to speculate with if there were a bunch of pictures of a flawless Aelin circulating the internet. It was hard to argue against some solid—if perfectly manicured—evidence.

The walk from the luxury hotel's doors to the dark, dark SUV parked in the portico is uneventful by Aelin's standards, but Rowan tenses as the paparazzi scream her name—his, too.

Aelin squeezes his hand once. Twice. His green eyes flick in her direction, and Aelin squeezes Rowan's hand again. It's okay.

He huffed.

Lucky for them, the reporters weren't allowed to get very close. The hotel's property was private, and Aelin had never been more thankful for her security team's diligence when picking out their lodging for a tour.

Sadly, it meant Aelin's fans were also kept at a distance. They'd tried to get closer originally, but the hotel staff shooed them away, protecting their guests' privacy and peace. Not just Aelin.

Little did it all matter. Telephoto lenses could easily make up the fifty-yard difference, and tomorrow, pictures of Aelin would be everywhere.

Aelin had to remind herself that was the point of this whole game.

Aelin thanked the gods for a second time for allowing her to ditch the crutches. The last thing anyone on her side wanted was for there to be more pictures of Aelin hobbling around the drunk she totally was. The media loved a picture of Aelin when she was at her best, but they obsessed over a picture of Aelin at her worst.

The walk to the car took less than sixty seconds. It was the longest minute of Aelin's life.

"You okay?" Rowan's breath was warm against her ear. His hand found Aelin's back, a firm and reassuring weight. Aelin resisted the urge to shrink away from the chaos, to tuck herself into Rowan's side and hide from it all.

Aelin released a slow breath. "Yeah."

All things considered, this was a relatively calm departure. The mandated distance between herself and the photographers was a welcome blessing, a rare occurrence for a celebrity living in an urban townhome.

She was ready to get away to the country for a while. It was a surprising thought, though not a secret. Aelin knew she was ready to slip away from the public eye for a bit, but the idea caught her off guard. Aelin wasn't used to wanting to shy away from the attention.

The silence inside the vehicle caused Aelin's ears to pop.

Rowan sat beside her, practically wrapped around her slimmer form. It was a feat, considering that Aelin was sitting in a different seat than him.

Aelin flashed him a weary smile. Rowan had always been easily worked up by the invasive mob so obsessed with Aelin, even in the Cadre days. But, until recently, Rowan hadn't been around to witness that obsession grow.

Add in the fact that Aelin was hurt, and it made for one protective—

"Buzzard," Aelin cooed, her smile more genuine this time. She reached for his nose, pinching it playfully. Aelin relished the widening of his green eyes. "You're fussing."

Rowan huffed. "I am not."

"You so are," Essar chirped from behind them. "I know this seems redundant, but you know she has a security team for that, right?"

That Aelin did. But no amount of bodyguards or close protection personnel could ever outrank Rowan Whitethorn.

"I'm her boyfriend," Rowan snapped, and Aelin's heart still did funny things hearing him say that. "I'm supposed to fuss."

The conversation faded. The team rode in silence, each doing their own thing as they weaved their way through the midday traffic. The mundaneness of it is almost enough to put Aelin to sleep if it weren't for the nagging thought of what was waiting for them at the airport.

The private airport they were leaving from was perhaps one of the least private airports Aelin had ever been to.

She just suppressed a snort. What an obnoxious, privileged thing to complain about.

"Four hours of hair and makeup," Rowan grumbled suddenly.

Aelin barked a laugh, startled from her thoughts.

"Quit bitching." Manon reached to flick Rowan's ear, and his eyes widened in shock. Aelin's boyfriend was doing a lot of that lately.

Manon glared. "Or I'll shave your head in your sleep tonight."

Aelin grinned and ran a comforting hand down Rowan's jean-clad thigh, saying, "Hold your judgment until you see the photos, Buzzard." Rowan arched a doubtful brow, and she guessed at his next question. "Telephoto lenses. Fuck your privacy in this technological age."

"Fuck," he breathed as if the thought had just occurred to him.

"Yeah." Essar's brown eyes shone with irritation. "Aelin can only shuffle around inside an umbrella so much."

Aelin's boyfriend mumbled something foul under his breath. Manon heard whatever he said and cackled. The stylist laughed loudly enough that Aelin knew whatever Rowan had said was ten kinds of terrible.

"Thank you," Aelin said, reaching to link their fingers together. She refused to be shy in front of Essar and Manon; they were her team—her family. They were the last people Aelin needed to feel insecure around.

Rowan made a face. For what?

"For flying with me to Anielle." Only to catch a flight hours later back to Doranelle. Rowan needed to get home, back to Thea and Fleetfoot and his job.

His life. That was so separate from her own these days.

Rowan's lips brushed her forehead, silencing the brutal turn of Aelin's thoughts. "Of course, baby. You know I'd do just about anything for a few more minutes with you."

Aelin's heart squeezed in her chest. "I love you," she whispered, soft enough for only him to hear. The gentle, quiet language of lovers.

"I love you—"

"Okay, that's enough, you two," Manon interrupted Rowan. "I'm seconds from throwing up all over you."

Aelin Galathynius Seen Following Hospital Stay.

On the jet, Aelin curled herself into Rowan's side. She pressed an ear to his steady heartbeat, and Rowan slung an arm around her, keeping her close and warm. Their position wasn't far from the one they'd woken up in this morning, curled into each other and sharing breaths.

Aelin's heart felt like it could burst with joy, but it also ached. Rowan was leaving this very evening. His flight back to Doranelle took off mere hours after landing—just enough time to get Aelin settled.

PTO conference, Rowan had explained remorsefully. I know your parents would happily fill in for me, but—I just can't miss it. You know?

And who was Aelin to hold that kind of explanation against Rowan? Because Aelin did know. Years ago, in a small, shitty apartment with one even smaller bed, a young and floppy-haired Rowan had confessed to a kohl-eyed Aelin what his childhood had been like. The absentee parents. The late-night fights. Missed high school band performances.

Aelin knew without asking that Rowan's parents hadn't attended any PTO conferences.

"Baby," Rowan murmured, drawing Aelin out of her thoughts. He ran a hand through her hair. "You're thinking hard today."

Aelin hummed and snuggled closer.

"Sometimes," he sighed, his breath tickling her hair, "I wish I could read that mind of yours. I've always wondered what it was like in that head of yours."

"Chaotic," Aelin replied. Rowan laughed softly.

He squeezed her. "So, I wasn't going to ask, but..."

"I promise, Rowan. I'm okay." Aelin tilted her head, looking him in the eye. In the background, the team hustled about, preparing for takeoff. "The painkillers they gave me are strong, and they're making me feel a bit fuzzy. I just need to sleep it off."

Rowan pressed a kiss to her hair. "You'd tell me if there was something more, right?"

"Of course." Aelin struggled to blink back the sleep. "Of course.

Fans Try To Decipher Aelin Galathynius's Recent Picture Op, Looking for Signs of Illness.

One uneventful flight later, Aelin and Rowan reached Anielle. Aelin struggled to sit still, bouncing a nervous knee as Ress and Brullo exited the jet to assess the situation. She felt Rowan's gaze on her, knew he was watching closely and looking for the tells of hers he knew so well.

But Aelin didn't know what to tell him or how to articulate how she was feeling these days. Hell, she could barely explain it to herself. Or her therapist. Much less her worrisome boyfriend.

Aelin was... okay, but she also wasn't.

"Alright, Whitethorn," Essar taunted, snapping Aelin out of her thoughts. "Here's your proof."

Rowan raised a brow at Aelin before turning to her assistant. Essar spun the bright screen of her phone towards them, and Aelin squinted her eyes at the sudden bright light.

What she saw made her scowl.

There Aelin was, hiding behind a pair of her favorite designer black shades and dark red lipstick. Manon had outdone herself once again. Aelin's immaculately curled hair fell just so around her face, framing her cheekbones while hiding the stitches, still pulling the skin at Aelin's temple.

The combat boots on her feet—the ones now resting on the floor of the cabin—were a size too big to compensate for the bandages supporting her injured ankle. Asterin had had to rush out at first light, desperately searching for a pair that would fit over Aelin's wrapped ankle.

Aelin made a perfect, lying picture.

The frown on Rowan's face said it all. He felt the same.

"They don't even mention me," Rowan said, playing off the feelings in a very Aelin-like manner. He gave the phone back to Essar. "It's quite rude if I do say so myself. I even wore my best t-shirt."

Essar laughed. Rowan cracked an easy grin and wrapped his arm back around Aelin. But she saw through the facade. Aelin knew that her boyfriend was only trying to hide the concern he felt for her. The Cadre had dealt with a lot of shit back in the day, but the days of Aelin Galathynius were on another level entirely.

Aelin Galathynius Arrives in Anielle: Ready For Another Awesome Show!

Note: I am foregoing the tag list on this NN post. I may reblog with the tag list later on, but I don't really have the time to fight Tumblr's tagging system at the moment.

So! Make sure to reblog to spread the word. 😉

[mynewdreamwasyou]

Staying Afloat - Masterlist

Slow-burn, angst. Relationship Feylin for a good chunk of it, so there’s mention and appearance of domestic abuse. - read it on AO3

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19 coming in April

[mynewdreamwasyou]

Okay wow… I finally got around to finishing this. it took me a while I know, the story of my life. Also, never thought I’d say this… but definite NSFW content ahead.

~ Masterlist ~

~~~~~

Rowan sat on the floor of his bedroom, his phone resting in his slack hand, his head laid back on the bed as he stared at the ceiling. Fleetfoot had come in a while ago—just after the first broken sob had left his body the dog had padded in and rested her head on his thigh. Without seeing for himself Rowan knew she was still looking up at him with big brown eyes, her tail thumping dully on the carpet floor. It was only silent tears now, silent tears as he grieved the life that he’d lost. 

He’d been doing something so simple, just putting away his clothes when he heard his phone ping with a message. Rowan had unlocked it, almost on autopilot and not really paying attention to what or who it was. When it loaded what greeted him was a photo of a small baby, a baby boy from what the little wooden plaque told him. Joshua Ethan Cortland. There was a brief text that followed: we’re both doing well. 

Keep reading

[mynewdreamwasyou]

It Takes Two - Epilogue

Well, here we are. Two years and nearly four months later and we’re at the end. Before I say anything else, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for every comment, ask, reblog and little heart you’ve given to this fic. Thank you for sticking with me. We’ve shed tears and laughter and frustration and I can’t believe I got there and I finished it. This fic has meant a lot to me and it’s been such fun to share it with you all. I’ll stop now before I really start crying, we’ve waited long enough. Please enjoy!

Masterlist

~~~~~

Work had become a necessary evil. Rowan didn’t hate his job by any means, as a career it was all he wanted to do. The thing was every morning he’d kiss his daughter and girlfriend goodbye and went to the gym away from Elsie, that’s what he hated. She was growing so quickly, already two months old, and he hated missing any moment of it. It was an unrealistic dream to want to spend every minute of every day with her, but she’d stolen his heart and he had no plans to take it back. And Aelin, gods she was an amazing woman. She took all the challenges of motherhood in her stride, through the good days and the bad. There had been sleepless nights for everyone, and they had been overcautious about every little thing. Their daughter’s prematurity came with it’s concerns and they had a few out of hours visits from Yrene that she was all too happy to give. In spite of all the hardships, after everything that had happened, Elsie was thriving. She’d held true to his premonition, she was just as strong as her mother. 

Aelin and Elsie had become his world, their apartment a sanctuary. Pulling into his parking spot Rowan was beyond happy to be home and done with the outside world for today, he was ecstatic. He couldn’t get out of his truck quick enough.

Keep reading

[mynewdreamwasyou]

It Takes Two - Lysaedion Proposal

Finally got around to this. Hope you like it. Also, epilogue is imminent, i just have a couple of surprises first. 

It Takes Two Masterlist

~~~~~

Aedion was nervous. Ashryvers didn’t get nervous, it was in part of their genetic makeup, they were all arrogance and bravado. But here he was—sweating bullets while he waited for Lysandra to finish work. He had a plan for this evening, it had taken some preparation on his part and he’d bounced some ideas around with Aelin, eventually coming up with what he thought would be the perfect plan. If he could pull it off that was. Pulling it off was what had the nerves sneaking through his defences. 

They were going to a little restaurant in an old part of the city, then after that they’d take a walk along the river. The florist by the bridge along the way was the key part of his plan. 

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[mynewdreamwasyou]

It Take Two - The Bet: Part 2

I forgot how much fun Elorcan are to write. I cracked myself up.

It Takes Two Masterlist

~~~~~

Lorcan was watching some dumb video on his phone when Elide walked in, and it was locked and dropped on the couch by the time she was standing in front of him. There were a few bags hanging in her hands and she dropped them on the couch next to him without saying a word. Something was running through that beautifully cunning mind of her’s and Lorcan was looking forward to the challenge of figuring it out.

“Yes?” he asked simply. 

“I’m sure you’re very pleased with yourself,” Elide answered. 

“And why would I be so pleased with myself? Would it have to do with what’s in your bags?” Lorcan knocked the closest one with his knee. 

For a bit of fun he’d given Elide his card, told her to go wild. He was worried she would think it would be weird and he’d only admit to himself that he’d been nervous. But all she had just given him one of those smiles that drove him wild, taunting him with a kiss and the words you have no idea what you just got yourself into. 

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[mynewdreamwasyou]

It Takes Two - The Bet: Part 1

A little something else for you.

It Takes Two Masterlist

~~~~~

Lysandra sat back, leaning into her boyfriend’s shoulder. It was a nice enough night out and nearly everyone had come to the after work drinks on a Wednesday night. Really it was only two people who hadn’t come, Aelin and Rowan. They were too busy trying to ignore each other in that tiny apartment of theirs. Lysandra pitied them, she really did. But she also wished they kind of just got on with it. She, like everyone else, was tired of watching them tread on eggshells around each other. The chemistry was there, the draw was there—otherwise they’d never slept together in the first place. Everyone but them could see feelings building there as well. It was frustrating to watch, but besides locking the two of them in a room together there wasn’t much anyone could do. They had to figure it out themselves. 

They just needed to adult up and bang it out already. 

Lysandra shook her head at the thought. She’d had too much to drink, evident from her nonsense thoughts. They weren’t wrong though, there was a lot of truth in it. 

“You right?” Aedion’s voice was full of amusement as he whispered to her. 

Looking up at him she gave him a small smile. “Yeah, just thinking about those two idiots.”

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[mynewdreamwasyou]

It Takes Two - Part 50

Well… Sorry this took me so long but I really wanted to get this right. It also sneakily snuck up like 8000 words without my permission. And I’m not crying, that’s definitely you. 

Masterlist

~~~~~

So much had changed, it was hard to comprehend just how much. They had a daughter now, he and Aelin were bound by something infinitely more beautiful than what they had before. Rowan was a father, and that thought alone was enough to stun him into a reflective silence. It was so odd but at the same time it felt so right. Little Elsie was theirs and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Another thing that had changed that put a smile on his face was Aelin’s appetite. It had returned with a vengeance and she was ravenous. Rowan tried not to leave either of them as much as he was permitted—which had only been a handful of times really—and when he did he made sure to return with something to eat for Aelin. The first time he had left he had felt sick to his gut at the thought of leaving them alone, but he had to go back to their apartment to get clothes for all three of them. Fenrys had been the one that had driven him there and back and then even popped in to see Aelin as well. Besides that Rowan had just taken a few walks outside or up the street, snacks in hand when he returned. With hospital food being the way it was, what Rowan really relied on were their visitors. They would get texts with requests for certain things before they arrived that were unfailingly picked up. None of them minded, they were more than happy to oblige the new mother. There was at least one visitor every day, Rowan suspected they had worked out a roster amongst themselves. 

But along with all the good, there came the not so great as well.

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[mynewdreamwasyou]

Bohatyrka by sculptor Vasily Korchevoy

[mynewdreamwasyou]