#aelin gave her last minute to dorian

[thedeathwitchescats]

What breaks my heart about aelin and Dorian is that they werent together, not because they didnt love each other, but because they *couldnt* be together and that breaks my heart

[dawninlatin]

manorian angst

When dark forces threaten, the leaders of Erilea must come to aid in yet another war to save their world. The problem is that Manon barely survived the hell that was the last war, and she can't go through it again.

Words: 3.1K | Masterlist | AO3 Link

«Tell me.» Manon ordered as she marched into the throne room, having landed in Orynth mere minutes ago. Abraxos had flown like the wind itself to get them here as soon as possible.

«Nice to see you too,» Aelin drawled from her throne, but her eyes lacked their usual sparkle. The room was filled with the rest of her court, and a few other leaders from Erilea’s kingdoms, including one blue-eyed king. 

«I don’t have time for this. Tell. Me.» Manon wasn’t known to be polite, even on her good days, but her heart had been racing ever since she’d received word of a new, rising threat causing her presence to be needed in Orynth immediatley, and she couldn’t think clearly when she was fighting the panic rising within her.

Not another war. Please, not another war.

«A few days ago, a portal opened, right outside of Orynth. A young female came from it, fae, frantic, begging us in the old language to help her people against these god-like creatures.» Aelin drew a shaking breath, Rowan placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

«We know them better as the valg.»

Manon’s ears started ringing, images of collars and cold, empty eyes appearing in her mind. Of her sisters disappearing in blinding flashes of light, one by one.

She could only half-listen as Aelin explained how she’d seen this world before, when she fell through the wyrdgates, how the valg they had defeated seemed harmless in comparison to these beings that could drain whole worlds of all life, how they had tried to drain this world before, and only gotten stronger since then, how they would eventually come back.

«But not if we help them.» It was Dorian that spoke this time, and Manon would be lying if she said his voice didn’t affect her any bit.

«No.» Manon hardly needed to think. There was no way she was doing this again. She’d barely survived the last war, was barely surviving now. 

Aelin stared at her in shock. Manon couldn’t blame her. They didn’t know she was merely a ghost of who she used to be.

«You closed the gates. Our world can’t be reached,» Manon tried, but it sounded pathetic, desperate.

«She managed to reach us,» Aelin whispered. «Please.»

«No.»

She could feel a pair of sapphire eyes boring into her, and when she turned to look at him, Dorian’s face was full of hurt and betrayal. «Manon-»

«No.» Dorian could hate her all he liked, as long as it meant he was safe. Because how could she explain that just thinking about another war nearly made her suffocate? 

The king gave her a long look, before turning on his heel and storming out.

-

Manon flung the door open, moving into the room where she knew the king would be. «You’re not doing this either. You’re not throwing yourself into this war.» 

Dorian held her gaze for a long moment before he finally spoke, his face unreadable. «If you don’t want to fight with us, fine, there’s nothing I can do, apart from getting on my knees and begging, but I’m leaving, whether you like it or not. I refuse to see this world be destroyed after everything we did to save it.»

When Manon didn’t answer, he turned his back to her, stepping towards the tall window overlooking the gardens. «There’s nothing left for us to discuss, then.» The words were a dismissal, a cue for Manon to leave, and they left a stinging sensation in her heart.

Everything would have been a lot easier if she could leave, but she couldn’t. Not until she’d won this fight. 

Over by the window, Dorian’s jaw tightened with suppressed anger, still not looking at her. A thin layer of frost began covering the glass as she just stood there, remaining silent. 

What was there to say, anyway? That in the past two years, she could count on one hand the amount of times she’d gotten a good night’s sleep? That every time she closed her eyes, she saw her sisters racing towards their deaths, leaving her behind? That when the nightmares were at their worst, Dorian joined them? 

The truth was that Manon was hanging on by a thread, barely keeping her pain and despair hidden.

She needed to say something, though, because she had seen this determination in Dorian before, right before he’d flown off to Morath, fully prepared to sacrifice himself if it meant saving everyone else.

And it was at the memory of waking up alone in a cold tent, terrified, but also so angry, that Manon regained her ability to speak.

«Dorian, please-»

She blinked, and the ice that had slowly been creeping over the window evaporated. Dorian’s head snapped up, and he looked as if she’d struck him. The voice she’d just used hadn’t fully sounded like her own, so raw and full of anguish.

«I can’t-» Manon began, but that voice failed her, her words ending in a hitch of breath. Tears were pressing behind her eyes, dangerously close to shedding.

«You can’t what?» Dorian asked her then, the question so careful, so far from the resolve he’d showed mere moments ago.

She couldn’t do this, was what, Manon thought to herself, but she was about to rupture, about to shatter into a million little pieces she had fought tooth and nail to hold together for the past two years.There was no power in any realm that could stop it, and Dorian would bear witness to it.

«Witchling…» Dorian whispered, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He was so close now, and to her shock, Manon realized she was the one who’d moved closer, craving the comfort of his arms.

«I can’t go through it again. Dorian, please don’t-»

She drew a shuddering breath, but she couldn’t seem to get any air into her lungs. Closing her eyes, Manon let the dam break.

«I can’t… I can’t lose more of the people I love when I barely have anyone left! I’m terrified, every fucking second of every fucking day that you’ll fly off on some suicide mission again because you have this insane idea that you need to sacrifice yourself to save everyone else, and I can’t do it, Dorian! I can’t lose-»

She practically screamed it at the king, hitting his chest as the words ended in choked sobs.

Dorian didn’t say anything as he grabbed hold of her arms, then pulled her close. Manon kept heaving, feeling as if she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs, her vision clouded by tears

«Breathe, Manon. Just breathe.» Dorian’s hands moved up and down her back in a soothing motion, taking deep breaths alongside her. «In,» she tried inhaling with him, getting a little more air, «and out.» 

They stood there for what felt like forever, Dorian whispering quiet encouragements, stroking her back, until Manon’s heart finally calmed a little, her breaths becoming more steady.

Manon looked up at Dorian, giving him a wordless thank you. In return, he gave her a soft smile, and Manon was so grateful that he always seemed to know what she tried to communicate, even when she couldn’t find the right words.

Suddenly, his eyes widened, if only slightly, as if he realized something.

«Did you just tell me you love me?» Dorian held her gaze, and part of her wanted to pull away at the intensity of it, but those sapphire eyes had her hypnotized.

His voice was barely above a whisper, but Manon could hear the disbelief, the hope. It was enough to halt her crying, to make her forget, for a moment, that they were actually in the middle of a very important argument.

«That was what you got out of this? Of course I fucking love you, you complete idiot! Are you-»

She knew she sounded hysteric, but before she could finish her sentence, Dorian caught her lips with his.

The kiss was hungry, all-consuming, saying all the words neither of them could voice. 

Manon answered with that same desperate hunger, the salt of her tears mixing with a familiar taste that could only be described as Dorian. 

She needed to be even closer to him, lose herself in the pleasure only he could give her, but Dorian pulled away, panting. His hands cupped her face, and Manon felt the soft caress of an invisible finger move across her lips.

He looked almost wild, and his eyes were stormy as he spoke in a low and raspy voice. «I love you too, Manon. You have no idea how-»

This time, she was the one who pounced, lips crashing against his. If their former kiss was hungry, this one was ravenous. She opened herself up to him, his tongue entering her mouth. She sucked on it, and a low noise came from his throat. His hands moved down, down, to cup her ass, and she grabbed the opportunity to wrap her legs around his waist. 

Dorian started walking them towards the bed, meanwhile Manon kissed a trail across his jaw, down his throat, letting her teeth graze over his pulse point. She could feel him growing harder and harder against her, and her core throbbed in answer, needing to be filled.

As he reached the bed, Dorian carelessly tossed her onto it, immediately going to work on removing her clothes. His phantom hands started pulling off her trousers, while Dorian unlaced her shirt. He reached a hand inside to cup one of her breasts, brushing a finger over an already peaked nipple. Manon moaned, urging him to just take the damn shirt off.

He obeyed with a dark chuckle, but he was still too clothed in Manon’s opinion. Dorian stepped out of his own pants, while Manon, ever so impatient, simply ripped his shirt in half.

«What if I really liked that shirt?» Dorian teased, but Manon didn’t have time for his usual swagger. Letting out a near-feral growl, she reached for him, pulling him closer.

They were both naked now, and Manon claimed his mouth in a rough kiss whilst one of her hands  moved downwards, grabbing his hard cock. She gave it a firm stroke once, twice, and Dorian groaned before he pushed her back down on the bed, beginning to kiss a trail down her neck, over her breasts, down-

«Inside me. Now.»

Manon grabbed his hair and pulled him back up to her mouth. She was already dripping wet, her cunt begging for him to fill her with his impressive length.

Invisible hands snaked up her legs, spreading them, and then Dorian lined himself up, filling her in one long, glorious stroke. She moaned at the tight fit, at the bolts of pleasure shooting up her spine. 

Dorian panted, burying his head in the crook of her neck. His lips found her pulse, and he sucked right as he started moving inside her.

Manon held him tightly, clawing at his back as he slammed to the hilt over and over again, hitting that sweet spot deep inside her. She lifted her hips to meet his strokes, and the new angle pulled an almost animalistic noise out of her as he brushed against her clit.

Already, she could feel that great wave rising, that blissful release beckoning. Dorian was close too, judging by the way he was panting, his rhythm faltering. He lifted his head and his eyes locked onto hers. Gold meeting sapphire. She couldn’t have looked away even if she wanted to. It was hypnotizing.

They were both desperate, two souls trying to get as close to each other as possible.

«Say that you’re mine,» Dorian growled, a low noise coming from his throat as Manon tightened her legs around him.

«I’m yours,» Manon moaned, unable to even identify all the emotions she was feeling in this moment. 

«You’re mine.»

«I’m yours.» 

Then he brought his thumb down on her clit, and that great wave crashed over her.

Manon screamed with pleasure, but the sound was muffled as Dorian’s mouth crashed into hers. He thrust into her hard, she could feel his cock throb inside her, could feel her cunt gripping him tight, and as she bit down on his lower lip, he followed her over the edge with a scream of his own.

-

«I’ll fight with you,» Manon said at last, looking up from where she was nestled against Dorian’s chest. A phantom hand was tracing circles on her upper thigh, but she was so exhausted the motion was more soothing than arousing. «I’ll ask my people, too, but I won’t force anyone, not after all they’ve been through.»

Dorian seemed to think for a moment. «I won’t pretend I’m not glad you’ll fight with us though I do feel a bit guilty.» He winced as he said that last part.

Manon touched her fingers to his lips, as if memorizing their shape. «You shouldn’t,» she said, not meeting his eyes. «Part of me knew from the beginning this was the right thing to do, I was just too much of a coward to admit it.» 

«Look at me.» He grabbed her chin, tilting her face upwards. «You’re not a coward. You are so strong, Manon, and we’ve hardly had time to catch our breath since the last war, in which you went through hell. Not wanting to go through that again doesn’t make you weak, it just makes you…» he trailed off, looking for the right word.

«Human?» Manon suggested with a small laugh.

Dorian smiled. «In lack of a better term, yes.»

She remembered a different time, when being called human had been the greatest insult there was, when it had been beaten into her, time and time again, that caring made her weak. That love was for foolish cowards. It pleased her to know that in the end, her grandmother had lost that battle too.

Closing her eyes, Manon whispered, «I’m just so tired of being afraid all the time.» Another tear slipped free, but Dorian wiped it away quickly. She buried her head in his chest as she started crying once more, the sobs silent this time. Dorian only held her tighter, as she shook, stroking her hair.

Two years ago, Manon never would have allowed herself to show this much emotion, to even feel this much emotion, but she was weary, both body and soul, and she couldn’t keep fighting any longer. 

«It will get better. I promise.»

One day, she vowed to herself, even if that wasn’t today, Manon would believe him. 

«And I am sorry for how I left things when I went to Morath.»

«It was crucial-» Manon began, but Dorian halted her, needing to finish his apology.

«I agree, it was crucial to winning the war, but I could have gone about it differently. You laid yourself bare in front of me, and in response, even when I knew how difficult that must have been for you, I left in the dead of night without a word. For that, I am sorry.»

Manon held his gaze, something settling within her at the words she’d unknowingly needed to hear.

«For what it’s worth, if you had woken me up to say goodbye, I probably would have followed you. I nearly did, actually, no matter how furious I was.»

«I’m surprised you didn’t propose this time, to get me to stay,» Dorian mused, a hint of teasing in his voice.

Feeling a smile tugging at her lips, Manon replied, «That plan didn’t work, if you don’t remember.» 

«Maybe I’ve changed my mind since then.» He was clearly toying with her, but it made Manon feel a little lighter inside, so she decided to play along.

«You survive whatever hell we’re about to throw ourselves into, and I’ll propose again. I’ll get a ring and everything.» Manon punctuated the words with a trail of kisses down the hard planes of his stomach.

«Deal. You survive, and I promise I’ll say yes this time,» Dorian murmured, his hands going to her hair as she reached his cock, the length hardening once more.

Holding his gaze, Manon let out a breathless «Deal.»

-

«Do you want to know what I’m fighting for?» Dorian asked, his fingers not halting their soothing motions. Manon merely hummed in answer, both of them completely spent, physically and emotionally, after three more rounds.  

«I’m fighting for a future where we can spend days in bed like this, just the two of us, no interruptions, whether that be annoying council members or impending doom.»

 Manon snorted at that, and wasn’t that exactly why she loved him so much? Only Dorian could make her laugh at a time like this.

«But there won’t be a world for us to do that in if we do nothing.»

His words made Asterin’s voice echo inside Manon.

Live, Manon. Live.

And she would. She would take up this fight, join this war, so that she could one day simply live. She owed her cousin that much.

«Should we tell the others?» Something had straightened within her, and her voice sounded stronger, even if she didn’t move from her spot halfway on top of Dorian.

«In the morning. We both need to sleep, and I selfishly want us to stay in our own bubble a little longer.» Manon felt him sigh, and she looked up at him once more, holding his gaze as she brushed his hair out of his face.

«In the morning, then.»

Because the king was right, they needed to sleep. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy, though inside, she felt like a great weight had been lifted off her.

Bringing her face closer to his, she mouthed those three wondrous words against his lips, before claiming them. Right now, they could pretend they had all the time in the world. 

«I love you too,» Dorian murmured in between lazy, unhurried kisses.

When they settled at last, Manon was tucked against his side, head resting over his heart, its steady beat a soothing lullaby. The last thing she remembered before drifting off to sleep, was Dorian pressing a kiss to her forehead.

And that night, no nightmares of the past haunted her. Instead, she dreamt of the future, of clear skies with wyverns flying over head, of lazy mornings spent in bed, of being woken up by a pair of small feet running down the hall and wide, blue eyes and a mess of white curls looking up at her. 

Manon would claw her way to that future if she had to.

Because they would win this war, they had to, and then she would finally allow herself to live.

A/N:

my will to live currently depends on us getting a glimpse of the throne of glass gang, especially manorian, in cc3:) we will get a book about them one day!! stay clowning fellow manorians<3<3

anyway, i rarely have the time to write anymore, because uni means you actually have to do schoolwork:( i should study for my chemistry exam rn, but i wanted to procrastinate, so i wrote fanfiction instead, you're welcome:):)

Taglist: @fireheartfaery @bookishwitchling @celestialams @darklingswhxore@onfma @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sayosdreams@rowaelinismyotp@rainbowcheetah512@zoyalovesbooks @wishfulimaginings @dreamlandreader

I keep a separate taglist for each ship, so let me know if you want to be added to any of them!

[acourtofquestions]

Okay, Rowan deserves a pro post now (because evolution & character growth / backstory explanation PLOT TWIST is a fav of mine in SJM writing) & I genuinely almost hated him for a minute & now I think I LOVE him — SO Heir of Fire Part 1 (continuing the start of Part 2… like right now after I post this & organize my brain😂🙃)

Rowan IS the other side of the coin aka Celaena/Aelin

She even says so herself: “The past few weeks had been like gazing at a reflection. No wonder she’d hated him.” (Side note: hated is past tense). — It is the very reason they hate each other to begin with, they hate each other because they hate themselves. Rowan could not give her hope because Rowan did not have hope to give, he had no hope; other than perhaps her; perhaps watching it die slowly within her gave it back to him because he realized he didn’t want to lose it.

Because Rowan realizes he WAS wrong he stops calling her princess and girl because he realizes she has lived and loved and lost and died inside with it. just. like. him. She understands, perhaps even more (though it’s never a comparison).

And the most striking difference within them (this is not a comparison) however I feel it important:

1. Now yes this is a classic enemies to lovers, however most Celaena relationships lack the enemy portion, Chaol and Dorian trust her an ODD amount from the beginning which speaks to her character & was healing in a way however I’m not fully sure Aelin ever trusted it (you know how scared I am of elevators never trust it if it rises fast it can’t last).

And the main point: 2. they see each other and themselves as broken without a promise of “becoming whole” and take it honestly anyway.

Sam & Celaena survived on a dream, a hope, a knowledge that they had to get away or they would die & in the end it is their end (not karma, but Arobynn) catches up & they cannot outrun it.

Dorian and Celaena always had this BIG difference; knowing that Dorian was born to be King of Adarlan (& he HAS to be, because the world desperately needs him) and Celaena does NOT want to be Queen; even Aelin never wanted to be Queen… they would never be happy in it… someone would end up resentful. — Almost as if they may have really loved each other, but they never really knew each other.

Chaol & Celaena existed from beginning to end in the knowledge of “we would never be a normal boy and a normal girl” however that is what they want; they “play house” like somehow they can get away with this… but in the end reality always catches up. And they cannot be “a normal boy and normal girl”.

Rowan is the first person to truly understand the depth of her darkness and “how far she can go”, he knows where she is & what she wants. He does not exist to cancel it out (perhaps balance at times) but never to be anything other than what they are. They both understand and are not expecting it or the other to change (even though they are trying to grow) they exist in either way & any reality of it. It is accepted. Seen. And still chosen. She may have been loved, but she has never been so seen & so wanted & understood at once. … In a way at times, it feels dangerous; two of them! But in a way, it’s only that which could pull the other from the edge. They have opposites & balance; twin souls. Two sides, same coin.

At times (as shown in Pt. 1) it is sometimes unhealthy. They can bring out the worst in the other; Celaena HAS to have someone, he wants no one. They hit each other where it hurts, they do not pull punches; but they can take it. They can handle the others worst. At times there worst needs it like when they are self sacrificial (as they can be) and need someone to call them out before they end up dead from it.

It’s not that “all is forgiven” or even “okay” but all is understood and accepted.

It’s why she fights for him to want her, because if not him then who? And also why she’s terrified of him choosing her… because he’s REALLY choosing her then. But as someone who’s spent a lifetime hiding herself (even from herself) she needs honesty. And as someone who’s spent centuries frozen, burnt out, empty; he needs her, an utterly overwhelming demanding to burn endless blaze.

So essentially I really loved that final chapter and am now counting pages till they finally realize & say all of this lol😂 CAUSE UM… SHE JUST GAVE HIM A TATTOO… and that chin grab with the “not friends”… cause it’s more ;-) unspoken line needs to be honest, for Wyrd’s sake🤣 … so I guess there the first accurate version of the “love & hate are close emotions” meme quote😂

[kmblckbk]

Between Royals

part 3

18+ contains smut

*contains spoilers for ACOTAR, Cresent city and Throne of glass series*

rhysand x reader / Ruhn x reader / dorian x reader

word count: 2184

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

Diner was weird, well no, actually people seemed to be more comfortable with each other now. But you were too busy thinking about today you didn't even notice. "y/n? are you okay darling?" Rhys asks you. you notice everyone has gone silent and is starring at you. "yeah I'm fine" you tell him before you get back to eating. "how was your day?" Rhys asked you. "it was okay" you tell him. "she showed us the city" Ruhn says "it's beautiful". "what was your favorite spot?" Bryce asked him. "definitely the rainbow I believe it was called. It's so colorful and...alive" Ruhn says. "was that the spot with the theaters and art shops?" Aelin asked. "yes it is" Rhys answers her. "I agree I think I could spend days there. I miss going to a theater, hearing music" Aelin says, sounding happy now. So different then how she acted yesterday. "from above it looked even better" Rowan says. "nah I don't think so. I think you need to be walking in it to really experience it" Aelin tells him. "well" Rowan says challenging her. "I think Aelin is right. You need to walk thru it to experience it fully. To really see the colorful houses up close, to hear the music to smell the paint. To see the beautiful dresses hanging in the ateliers" Dorian says looking over to you.

"did you show them the rainbow?" Rhys asked you shocked, knowing you haven't been there in months. You stay silent. "she showed me her atelier" Dorian tells him, which you hated him for. Rhys had tried for weeks to get you to go there, to even walk thru the rainbow but he could never get you to. Yet this stranger could. "y/n? did you go to your atelier?" Rhys asked shocked. You nod. "you make clothes?" Aelin asks. "made" you almost whisper, trying to keep the tears from showing and your voice from breaking. "she could made the most beautiful clothing. She always had the most exclusive fabrics, no one know where she got them but everyone knew that if you wanted something special made. You needed to go to her" Rhys tells Aelin when he sees you struggling. Your hands slowly begin to shake as you hear the praise of your work. 'are you okay?' you hear Rhys ask in your mind. 'yes' you send back but he knows you're lying. He lifts your head to make you look at him and you know he can see right thru you, that you're not okay. You get out of his grip and shove your chair back. "y/n darling?" he says, worry mixing with sadness at the thought that you're not okay. "I just need a minute" you tell him before you storm out. "y/n!" you hear Rhys yell behind you. 'I'll be back in a few, just need some time alone' you send him thru your minds connection. 'please stay safe' he send back. 'I will'.

You walk outside feeling the night air on your skin and you start walking and walking. Until you stand in your atelier and finally let the tears out.

Rhys pov

"is she okay?" Aelin asks, which was the last person you thought would ask. "she needs some time alone" you tell them as you see everyone is staring at you. "she really showed you her atelier?" you ask Dorian. "she did, she was really scared though and sad" he tells you. you stair at the table "she hasn't been there in months. Not after the war" you tell him "it used to be the thing that made her happy but after her friend died. She just.......". "she didn't find joy in it anymore" Aelin says softly. "like the joy of that thing vanished with her friend" Bryce says. They both sounded like they understood. "your best friend died too?" you ask them. "yes" they both say at the same time. "will she ever find that joy again?" you ask them, hoping they at least could tell you it gets better. "eventually" they both say, which gave you some hope. "how did you do it?" you ask Dorian. "I just knew what she felt, like you're not worthy of that place anymore" he says, sounding like that's how he felt too.

It's silent for a while until Aelin asks "what is the best theater show you have here right now?" the question seemed random at first, but you realize these people could all use something good and fun for a change. "you know what, I'm gonna take you guys to the best show not only in Velaris but in Pythian" you say. "what about y/n?" Dorian asked, he seemed to really care for her. "I will let her know" you tell him. "how?" "well we kinda can communicate in our minds" you tell Dorian. "so you know what she thinks? All the time?" Dorian asks, sounding curious and something else you couldn't really place. "I used to, she learned to keep me out, so now we only communicate what we want to. Well, and I feel it if she's experiencing intense emotions, like this afternoon, twice" you tell them, quickly giving Dorian and Ruhn a look. Seeing if one of them would react in a weird way. they both did.

"okay what happened this afternoon?" Aelin asks, noticing it too "I'm curious now". "I would like to know what happened too" you demand, seeing them try their hardest to look anywhere but at you right now. "nothing happened" Ruhn says a little to quickly. "yeah nothing happened" Dorian says. "did you know what she was feeling?" Aelin asks you, seeming to like where this was going. She definitely likes gossip .....and trouble "yes, and I normally like to reserve that feeling for when she's with me, alone" you say, they both stair at you, the way a 5 year old would when he's busted when he was eating a cookie his mom told him not to eat.

"speak up, who of you was it" you demand now. "not me!" they say both at the same time, way to quick. "they both where. Ruhn kissed her first, then went away. Dorian kissed her in her atelier" Rowan says, and all eyes shoot towards him. "how do you know that?" Ruhn asks, not even thinking about what you would think of it. No he seemed absolutely certain no one could know, and yet somehow Rowan did. "yeah how do you know, I didn't saw a sneaky bird anywhere" Dorian says. "I just know shit" Rowan says grinning "and you 2 are definitely in trouble". "oh yes they are! What the fuck are you thinking you're guest here and you go after my girl?!" you almost yell at them. "well I" Ruhn begins. "well uhm" Dorian says unsure.

"before we lay all the blame on them" Hunt says butting in "seems like your 'wife' kissed not just one person that isn't you but 2. I would start to wonder if the problem isn't them but her, or maybe more likely......you ". no that couldn't be, couldn't it? Rowan is grinning leaning back in his chair. "What!" you yell at him, hating how he's acting towards you right now. He starts bursting out laughing "oh my god, this is too good" he says. "what's so fucking funny Rowan!" you say demanding an answer. "oh you'll find out" he says. You give him an angry look. "well, let's go to the theater" Rowan says standing up, everyone slowly follows his example. "you 2 are coming with me, we need to talk" you tell Dorian and Ruhn.  What a shitshow, you better get those people home. Fast!

"what happened, please tell me you 2 initiated it" you ask Dorian and Ruhn. "well I told her I'd like to kiss her. believe me when I tell you I had no idea why I asked. It just, felt right I guess, I can't explain it. But I just moved closer to her, she could have pulled away if she wanted but she didn't" Ruhn tells you "she actually wanted it" he quickly adds. "and how would you know she wanted it?" you ask him. "because I can read minds" he says "and I immediately walked away when I heard you in her head". "it was kind of the same for me. I'm just pulled to her somehow and she pulled towards me. I have no idea what's going on. Like Ruhn said it just felt....right" Dorian explains. "let me tell you what's going on here" Rowan says walking in. telling something that shocks you, but explains everything.

y/n pov

you finally put in the last stitch. You sit back to look at it. It's been so long since you actually sewn something. And it just felt like....like coming home. You start to clean up the fabrics, when you hear the door open. You immediately feel who it is, even with your back towards him. "I told you I wanted to be alone" you tell Rhys, but as you turn around to face him, he's not alone. Dorian and Ruhn are standing behind him. "we just came back from the theater and saw a light burning, what are you doing here?" Rhys asks softly, understanding it was a hard topic to talk about for you. "I finished it" you tell him, not being able to look at him. "what did you finish?" he asks confused. "her dress" you say pointing to the wedding dress in the back.

"it's beautiful" Dorian says before Rhys can. "it is" Rhys says. "you made all of this?" Ruhn asks you, clearly impressed. You softly nod, looking at them now. It was weird, normally you could feel when people walked in here, but just now, you only felt Rhys. Was it because Dorian and Ruhn weren't supposed to be here? because they were from another world? "I started working on this" you say laying out a jacket, it was deep red with golden embellishments. "it's for you" you say looking at Dorian. "the colors of Adarlan" he says in a whisper. He walks over to you touching the fabric "I've never seen anything like this. It's beautiful y/n" he says his eyes meeting yours. "I made the collar a little higher for.....you know" you say pointing towards his throat with the scar. "thank you" he whispers before he walks closer and hugs you tightly "thank you". "you're so welcome. I hope it's a new start. For all of you" you tell him. "thank you" he says again as he let's go of you. and you wipe a tear away that had slipped his eye.

"you really started sewing again?" Rhys ask not believing it, looking at the wedding dress you finished. The one your best friend was supposed to wear on her wedding day, that would now never come. You nod "I guess it doesn't scare me as much anymore" you say, quickly looking over at Dorian who was to busy, looking at the gold details on his new coat, to notice. You wonder if he'd even knew what he did for you today.

"wow this is...this is beautiful. How did you even get this fabric?" Ruhn asks standing at the far end of the shop. He was looking at a coat you made for one of the sons of the high lord of the autumn court, who of course never came to pick it up.  "oh a girl never tells her secrets" you say jokingly, seeing Ruhn's eyes grew a little darker at your command. "do you like it?" you ask him. "I love it, I never wear something formal, believe me my father tried. But if I had anything like this at home......I would definitely wear it". "try it on then" you tell him smiling. "really?" he asks unsure. "yes go on try it on". he tries it on and it couldn't have looked better on anyone.

"i fucking love it" Ruhn says looking in the mirror. "you can have it" you tell him. "wait what! Really?". "yes the person I made it for never came to pick it up and I guess he's never going to. So it's yours if you want it". "I don't have any money with me" he says. "it's a gift, from a friend" you tell him smiling.

You don't know why but you felt like you've know them for years instead of a day. It was weird but somehow it just felt, right. Meant to be almost. "let's go home. I promised you something that I now know I can actually make true" Rhys says with a wide grin. "what promise?" you ask him. "well let's go home and you find out darling" he says. You already felt yourself getting exited, was this what you think it would be?

part 4

masterlist

[tomtenadia]

Station 5 - chapter 2

ONE

Good evening/ day/ night

Here I am with another chapter of Station 5. I have been slowly writing this fic and I have 8 chapters but for some reason it still fights me and I can’t find the right flow to it. 

Ach well... for now I hope you will like ch 2.

CW: very light depiction of ptsd, language.

-------

Rowan lay awake in his bunk. Station 5 was a very modern firehouse and every firefighter had a small private room with a bed and a nightstand. It was not a palace but it was good enough to ensure some privacy and peace, without having people snoring around you. 

That quiet had however, the nasty downside of allowing his brain to just wander and just replay that fateful night when his career went belly up. A constant reminder and the stabbing sense of guilt that he had survived but three of his colleagues had not. 

With a deep sigh he rolled over and pushed off the bed in his sweatpants and a t-shirt then decided to wander to the common room where, to his surprise he found Lorcan.

“Hey, can’t sleep?”

Rowan shook his head and sat down on the sofa “Getting adjusted I think…”

Lorcan was silent for a moment “What happened, man? Last I heard you were a captain, and now you come back as a probie?”

Rowan looked away and ignored his friend, then looked back at the dark-haired man “Bad call.”

He was not ready yet, the wound still to fresh. Discussing it with the captain and the chief had been enough. Mentally, he was not ready yet to admit it to his new team.

Lorcan waited for more but he knew Rowan well enough that he was not going to offer more. 

On that aspect they were practically identical. People had to extract information from them with brute force.

“Well, whatever happened, you are here now and I can keep an eye on you.”

Rowan gave his friend a timid smile “Sure, Lor.”

“Shut up, smartass or I send you to the captain.”

“She hates me.”

Lorcan made a sound that resembled a chuckle “Believe me, we are not best buddies either, but I like her style.”

“What’s her deal with the kid?”

Lorcan patted his friend on the back “not my story to tell,” he stood “go back and get as much beauty sleep as you can.”

Rowan went to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water and eventually dragged himself back to bed.

It was the middle of the night when dispatch alarm went off, awakening all the inhabitants of station 5. Rowan jumped out of his bed with practiced skill and ran to the apron where he met the rest of the team doing the same thing. Quickly wore his bunker gear, grabbed his jacket and then stopped. The captain had forgotten to tell him if he was serving on truck or engine.

“Probie, get your arse on truck.” He followed Aelin’s orders and climbed at the back with Fen and the guy with dark blue hair called Dorian. Aedion was at the wheel while Aelin was on the passenger seat since she was the captain. 

Fen yapped away happily, while Rowan stared out of the window and got mentally ready to his first call. He felt nervous. It had been a year since the fire that had changed his life. Firefighting had become like second nature, but now a pang of anxiety was tying his stomach in knots. He had to relax. He knew that nervousness in his job could be dangerous. So he closed his eyes and descended in his glacial calm.

They arrived a good five minutes later and the vehicles stopped in front of a building on fire. Oh good, a nice structure fire. Quickly he got off truck and started following Aelin’s orders. 

“Probie, you are coming in. Where I walk, you walk.”

Rowan grumbled silently, grabbed his gear and followed his captain inside. The fire was rolling and they both headed upstairs and methodically started primary search room by room. The smoke was so thick that it was hard to see much, so he went on his knees and started sweeping for victims. If he happened to get separated from the captain he could use the excuse that visibility was hell. 

He was about to call for the all clear when all of a sudden he felt a hand. Slowly followed it until he touched the person’s head. His fingers searched for a pulse and when he got one, albeit shallow, he pulled the victims towards him “I am taking this person out,” he shouted at the captain. 

When no answer came he just grabbed the victim and found his way back outside where the paramedics were waiting for the patients. In the distance he spotted the chief and hoped he was not in trouble already. Ten minutes on a call and he had already broken the rules. Quickly he ran back inside and tried to find the captain again. Maybe she had not noticed. He threw himself inside another room and started another sweep until he bumped into a familiar body. Lorcan was in front of him “you take that end. We are still looking for two victims.”

Lorcan was a lieutenant, his superior and that was an order. Screw the captain.

“Copy that.” Swiftly he moved away and went back to his job.

He crawled on his knees until he found two bodies “Lor, help me, I have someone.” The other man found his way on the other side of the room and amidst the thick smoke, they freed one victim each, shouted the all clear for their sector to the team and ran out. Outside, Rowan pulled his mask off his face and popped open his bunker jacket and coughed hard. Dorian passed him a bottle of water “The first kid you took out is at Med and he will be fine.”

Rowan nodded “Thank you.”

“She will eat you alive, you know?”

“I saved three lives,” he coughed “she can shout all she wants.”

Dorian laughed and patted him “Welcome to the team, Rowan. You will fit in perfectly.”

* 

The ride back to the station had been quiet. The captain at the front chatted away with Aedion and he, for the time being, was still alive. Back at the station everyone climbed off with loud groans while he took it a bit slower and hid in the gear room. They would all run to the bathroom to get cleaned up. He could wait.

In the locker room he met Lorcan and Fen and he felt at ease. They were friendly faces. 

His locker was just beside’s Brullo. The man had been welcoming too but Rowan still kept his distance. He removed his uniform and pulled a towel around his waist, then jumped into the sweet oblivion of a warm shower.

He had probably basked in that hot shower a bit too long, but he had been the last one in so he just indulged. After nine people took hot showers however, the room was filled with thick steam and his body clashed with the one who was getting out of the shower next to him.

“Hey, watch out.”

Blue eyes looked up at him and he saw the captain, wrapped in a blue towel. Her stare landed on him and a strange light flickered in them making him suddenly aware of his body only covered by a small towel. 

“Get dressed newbie and come to my office.” 

Rowan stood and watched the woman storm out of the shower block. Yeah, she was not nice to him, but the man in him could not deny she was hot.

*

Aelin rushed back to her quarters, shut the door quickly and sat on her bunk bed. She had crashed into him. Into his glorious, wet, hard, tattooed chest. And his eyes. They were the most stunning pine green and in that brief second they seemed to stare deep into her soul. Aelin groaned annoyed. She was not an hormonal teenager, damn it. She was a captain and a mother, she had no place in getting all flustered by a set of pretty green eyes and a muscular body.

Quickly Aelin wore her clean uniform and while dressing up she convinced herself that she was mad at him for disobeying in the fire. She had to focus on that.

But he saved three lives. 

“Blasted conscience,” she mumbled while tying her hair.

She tried to ignore the voice of reason and concentrate on her displeasure.

She sighed, went to seat behind her desk and waited for him.

Eventually Rowan knocked at the door and she called him in.

“Take a seat, Whitethorn.”

He sat down and crossed one leg above the other almost in challenge.

“Do we speak a strange language here in Terrasen? Do you require an interpreter?”

Rowan looked at her puzzled.

“I had asked you to stay attached to my backside, to be my shadow. Which part of my order you did not understand?”

Rowan breathed in and pushed his frustration down “With all due respect, I saved three people. I am not a fucking newbie fresh out of the academy. I know the hell I am doing. I know how a structure fire works, so stop treating me like an incompetent.” He shouted. He tried to control himself but in the end he failed.

Aelin stood and leaned against the windowsill “While you are in my house and until I say so, you are a candidate. That was the deal, Whitethorn,” she spat back.

“Are you fucking serious?” He stood and stared at the woman in front of him with defiance “Are you telling me that I need to ignore twenty years of training? That if I see a victim I don’t do anything until my captain tells me so?”

Aelin’s stare hardened and walked out from behind the desk and stopped in front of his towering figure “You pull a stunt and endanger one of my firefighters and you are out of the TFD forever.”

“I was a captain when you still were trying to figure out how to leave your bunker gear neatly near the truck. Stop being a spoiled brat.”

He had gone too far and from her expression he was positive of that. Well done Rowan, You idiot.

“Tomorrow before we finish our shift you will spend the morning scrubbing the kitchen. I want it so shiny that I can use it as a mirror.”

“Yes captain.”

Aelin sat back down  “you are dismissed.”

Half an hour later Elide and Lysandra popped in the office. It was in the middle of the night, but after a call, most of them struggled to go back to sleep.

“So,” started Lysandra while plopping on the sofa with a tub of pop corn “We saw our newbie come and visit you. Any scoop?”

“Lor told me that Rowan was asking about you.”

Aelin grabbed some of the pop corn too “Yeah I noticed he was quite chummy with him and Fen.”

Elide nodded “Lor said that they know him from back in Wendlyn and served together in a firehouse and added that he was a damn great firefighter.”

Until he fucked up added Aelin silently.              

Now she was intrigued by her friend’s comment.

“Any scoop? I can’t read him and he is so infuriating.”

Lysandra laughed “Or maybe you are just attracted to him? You can deny that the man is a hot piece of candy.”

Aelin scoffed loudly.

“Darling, maybe it’s time to get laid again? Your ex Chaol was the last one and you have definitely scrub away the cobwebs and hide the mistake in your closet of shame.”

“I got Aisling out of that. And she is not a mistake.” Added Aelin with a bit too much bite.

“I know,” added Lys at her friend sad expression.

“I am not dating. My daughter has the priority and I can’t allow anyone in.”

Lysandra and Elide threw popcorn at her “Booo. Boring.”

“Also, he is a candidate. So big no no.”

Lysandra chuckled “Uhhh forbidden love makes things spicy though.”

“Is he really though? A newbie, I mean. Dorian told me that the way he acted in the fire was not the way a newbie would. He was far too good.”

Aelin sighed. The real reason of Rowan’s presence at Station 5 was known only to her, Aedion and Gavriel. If he wanted to tell everyone, that was his choice but she was not going to blab on confidential details. “Maybe just very skilled.”

“Fine, keep your secrets.”

“I can ask Lor if he has some interesting tidbits about him.”

Aelin smiled “Please do.”

Elide stood “well ladies, this woman here is going to bed because I am pooped.”

Both Lys and Elide left the office and Aelin paced the space for a while until exhaustion took over and decided to go to baed.

*

After the meeting with Aelin, Rowan had gone back in the common room and tried to blend in with the team. They were all good people and Fen had helped to act as a bridge and apart from Aedion, they all had been welcoming. Even Manon had showed a hint of friendliness. To be honest, the woman scared him. 

Now it was the following morning and he was ready to go back home. As per the captain’s orders he had scrubbed the kitchen until it was perfect and met her standards, but now he was ready to go home.

He had joined halfway through the shift, but for the next one he would be in from the start. After a year he realised it would take him a bit longer to recover and get back in the groove of the long shifts.

He was on the apparatus floor when he stopped at happy the voices near the big rolling doors. Rowan stared at the image in front of him. A woman who looked like an older version of Aelin and then a little girl with brown hair and bright blue eyes. Without intruding he studied the interaction. He watched Aelin lift her daughter in his arms, and the smile that blossomed on her face was one of the most beautiful things he ever saw. He was curious. He did not spot a wedding ring and now a million questions rushed in.

He could ask Fen, the man loved to gossip. 

Maybe next shift.

For now, he was looking to go back to his flat and start to unpack and make the flat look like a liveable place.

Start to feel at home in a city where he still felt like a stranger.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-A-Long, Empire of Storms, day 11

SOMEHOW I DIDN’T REALIZE HOW CLOSE TO THE END WE ARE. I think it’s because I checked this book out from the library virtually to make it easier to carry with me, and I’ve just been reading on my phone. I pulled out the physical copy to read this morning since it’s my day off, and now I realize this the last 100 pages. The traditional, SJM style, shit-hitting-the-fan smorgasbord.

(Bring it on)

Ch 65

Did anybody else try to pair the gods with their main cast counterpart?

“one that was of sea and sky and storms” Rowan

“one of many shifting voices, both animal and human” Lysandra

“one who saw all with wise, calm eyes” Elide? Or maybe Dorian?

“the one of darkness and death.” Lorcan

“the one with a voice of steel and shields and arrows.” Maybe Gavriel? Or Aedion, I guess?

“The one with three faces” Manon

“The princess whirled, her hunting leathers stained and damp, the gold tips on her braided hair clinking.”

NEHEMIA! I missed you so much, honey!

This isn’t Nehemia though, it’s just an echo, just a memory, but oh, it’s still so good to see her again 😭

Ch 66

“When Aelin and Manon had vanished into that mirror, Dorian suspected it was only Aedion's roaring that had made Rowan snap out of the blood fury he'd descended into. And only the throbbing bruise on Dorian's cheek that made Rowan refrain from giving him a matching one.”

He didn’t know what was about to happen though. Idk. I feel like it was a pretty genius idea, there was no way he could have known shit was about to hit the fan. And that they wouldn’t be back.

(They’re gonna come back, right?)

“Maybe Manon Blackbeak would help her do it. Maybe they'd rule over the ruins together.

He wished he'd had more time to talk to the witch. To get to know her beyond what his body had already learned.”

I wish you did, too, Dorian, but you were too busy being horny! Lol

(I can’t say I blame you)

(Live your best life Dorian)

Ch 67

“Rowan had not possessed an army of his own to give to Aelin. To give to Terrasen.

So he had won an army for her. Through the only things Aelin had claimed were all she wanted from him.

His heart. His loyalty. His friendship.”

Omg, Rowan 🥺

GET YOURSELF A MAN WHO GIVES YOU HIS HEART. HIS LOYALTY. HIS FRIENDSHIP.

That’s how you know. He’s top tier husband material.

If Maeve hurts Elide I’m going to scream.

I’ll riot.

I swear.

Ch 68

It’s so fucking devastating to read about Nehemia, plotting her own very violent death.

That shit was so traumatic.

NEHEMIA. I kind of don’t forgive you? Like, did you even realize? How fucked up it was? To die - so violently - so horrifically - but - you didn’t HAVE TO. Aelin was the one who HAD TO. You gave Elena your death.

And for what!

To traumatize your friend into action!

I hate it. I hate it SO MUCH.

The Elena pulling the strings behind it all reveal here. It’s very unsettling, in a high fantasy kinda way. I like the way it feels, that ultimate pain, ultimate sacrifice, chosen one trope, but I don’t believe for a minute that Alien has to die to save the world.

I know we can find another way to solve this riddle. Maybe that’s why Manon’s here. She’s nameless, too, in a way, since she was disavowed as the Heir to the Blackbeak clan.

Or maybe you can give up your name, symbolically. And then be truly nameless. Maybe you can trick Maeve into giving up her name, and kill two birds with one stone here.

Ch 69

(Nice)

This fighting continues.

ABRAXOS is back! Babyyyyyyy! ILU so much! Thank you for coming back so triumphantly!

Ch 70

It feels so unnatural to stop here

I wanna finish reading!

I wanna know what happens next!

[euphoric-melancholyy]

this pain wouldn’t be for evermore (A Rowaelin [Throne of Glass] fanfic)

A/N: So last month I binge read the Throne of Glass book series for the first time. I am absolutely obsessed, and have thought about it every day since. I especially love Rowan and Aelin's relationship, hence this fic. Come talk to me in the comments about how amazing they are. And let me know if you like this or not - it's my first time writing for this fandom, and writing any sort of smut. (It's tame, I promise.) Title and lyrics at the end from "Evermore" by Taylor Swift. spoilers for all of the Throne of Glass series.

Summary: "And where there were once shackles of iron, there were now collars black as the coffin that had become her prison and temporary reprieve. 'No,' she whispered, eyes going wide as she tried to scoot away, to do anything to protect herself against the shadows creeping around her very being.

“Welcome to Morath’s army, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius,” Maeve gleamed, red lips curving into a viscous smile.

And Aelin knew she had lost."

OR

Aelin has a nightmare. Rowan comforts her.

Also on Ao3

Her very essence was fire, a sharp burning that reached through her skin, melting it to the bone. And she screamed. The fire inside her fought against it, its presence that was once warmth and power, killing her from the inside as it pushed, in vain, against the flames that ate away at flesh.. 

“Aelin of the Wildfire. How does it feel to know the strength of your power?” Carin laughed and lit the blowtorch once more. It glowed iridescent blue, and he ran it down her scars. It’s flame traced the intricate designs Rowan had inked there, melting them away in a blistered pool of blood. She screamed until darkness claimed her, consciousness gone with the pain. 

Hours or minutes or days later, she awoke upon the stone altar and the iron encasing her branded sharp waves of agony over her flesh. Fenrys laid beside her, whining and blinking.

Four times. I am here. I am with you. 

Aelin vomited until there was nothing left in her. She choked on bile that mixed with the dried blood pooled around the stone altar. As if alerted to her consciousness, Cairn and Maeve walked in. 

“I see you’ve prepared her for my arrival,” Maeve said to Cairn before directing her gaze to the chains that enslaved Aelin.

And where there were once shackles of iron, there were now collars black as the coffin that had become her prison and temporary reprieve. “No,” she whispered, eyes going wide as she tried to scoot away, to do anything to protect herself against the shadows creeping around her very being. 

“Welcome to Morath’s army, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius,” Maeve gleamed, red lips curving into a viscous smile. 

And Aelin knew she had lost. 

The scene shifts and she’s at the Keep, Aedion and Lysandra in the dungeon beside a livid Arobynn. He smiled at her, possessive and feral. “Celaena, darling. Come, let me show you how Sam died.” In horror, she watched as Lysandra’s flesh was slashed from her bone in ribbons. Aelin screamed every profanity she knew at her old master, but it fell on deaf ears as Lysandra crashed in a bloody heap to the floor. “I hear you gave our old friend Archer quite the gutting. Please, do show me how it was done,” he purred, knipping at her earlobe. 

No. No. No

But her silent pleas were worthless as she drove her blade into her cousin, his blood soaking into her skin with the Sword of Orynth’s violent wrath. 

Then she’s in the throne room of Adarlan’s glass castle. Her hand gripped Dorian’s severed head as the court applauded her. Erawan, in his true form, stood before her at the throne. “There is more to do before we burn what remains of Terrasen to the ground,” he bellowed. Maeve appeared beside him, dragging a chained Rowan in tow. 

“Aelin, I know you’re in there. We can fight this. We can -” Rowan’s pleas were cut off with a punch to the throat from Aelin herself, knocking the wind from him. She felt as if she was watching her body through the eyes of another, her actions hers and yet not of her own consciousness. Rowan didn’t fight as she pummeled him, bare fists, again and again and again. “It’s okay,” he whispered, trying to comfort her as she embedded Goldryn into his heart, spilling his life’s blood on the marble floor. 

-/-/-

Sweat boiling beneath her naked body, Aelin shot up with a choked sob, tearing the sheets off her bed with the motion. Rowan kneeled beside her. Worry creased his eyes as he scanned her for any signs of injury. 

“Aelin. Hey, I’m here, fireheart. I’m here, I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and solemn, and her name a prayer on his lips. He swept her up from the sweat soaked mattress, hands carding through her hair as he continued his mantra. I’m here. I’ve got you. It was only a dream. You’re here now. 

“Rowan,” she cried, burying her head in his chest as sobs racked her body. He had died, butchered by her hand only moments before. “Is this. . .” she swallowed another sob. If this was hell, then at least she had a moment with him, his body strong and solid against hers. She breathed him in, the scent of pine and snow, the vibration of his words against her cheek, the consistent pitter-patter of his heart beat settling her slightly. Alive. He was alive and she. . .she didn’t know if she could believe her senses anymore. “Is this real?”

His thumb caressed her chin, tilting her gaze upward to pine green eyes shining with unshed tears. “Yes,” he whispered, setting her in his lap as he sat against the wood of their bookshelf. “You are Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius,” he kissed her cheek where a tear ran down, “and you are Queen of Terrasen, the Faerie Queen of the West.” His mouth moved to her temple, a gentle kiss against her hairline. “My mate.” He bowed his head, finding the scars of her claiming marks, lips lingering there. “My wife. My reason for living.” His hand grabbed hers, pressing it over his heart. “And this, right here in this room, is real.” 

“I. . .” Her words died in her throat, and she leaned into him, willing her heart to calm. Embers of firelight she had anxiously casted to the hearth highlighted the contours of his face, dancing between the thick lines of black ink that marks his story down his temple through the length of his torso and along his arm. It tells the story of a warrior, of her lover and her mate, and her -

Quivering lips claimed his, a well practiced dance of teeth and tongue and need that coiled in her gut. She needed this, this reminder of his flesh, warm and willing against her own, chasing her nightmares away. His touch was reverent. Each taste of her skin, of his writhing beneath her, a beacon back to reality. Away from the demons of “what if’s” and trauma she’ll never quite know how to unpack. 

“I love you,” he said as they came together. The feel of him inside her wiped all thought from her mind except the movement of his hips, demanding she listen in release. His breath coasted across her breast, up to her neck, and settled on the small scar between her neck and shoulder. His scar. 

His canines caressed it and he sucked hard enough to bruise. She felt the salt of his tears reach her bare skin, cooler than the sweat that stuck to their bodies. 

She thought she might still be crying too, in release and relief and oblivion and wonderment that washed over her. 

“This is real,” he murmured, and she smiled despite the fear and panic that still lingered. 

Their second joining was rougher, her coiled up rage at the remnants of her nightmares, both waking and fictional pushing her harder against him. He let her lead the pace. Her lips sucked bruises at each point of contact as he thrust inside her. His nails dug into her back, a small biting pain that left half crescent imprints in its wake as he moaned her name. It was a duel, a battle, and release, and he was her willing victim and she was his.

Later, when her brain felt like mush, she laid on his chest, her body sated and trembling and utterly spent. He peppered soft kisses against her hair, her cheek, her shoulder, whispering sweet nothings as his hands smoothed over the marks in her back. 

“Try as she might, Maeve could never capture that. I thought she could but. . .” Aelin let her voice trail off, and she turned to face him once more. Her thumb caressed the curvature of his jaw. “I love you,” she said softly, and cuddling into his warmth, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

-/-/-

It wasn’t even a fortnight later when he woke frantic and panting, haunted with fresh nightmares of what could have been. Aelin back in the salt mines, Aelin lost in the wrydgate as a pawn in centuries old feud between stupid, greedy gods. Aelin, dead in an iron coffin. Lost. Gone. Butchered. Dead.

He couldn’t breathe, his face soaked with tears he must have been crying in his god awful slumber. He bolted to the bathing chamber, falling to his knees as he retched his food again and again and again into the toilet. He barely registered Aelin kneeling beside him. She pressed a cold washcloth to the back of his neck, water cup and mouthwash in hand.

“Rowan. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m-“ He yanked her toward him in a bone crushing embrace, inhaling her scent like a drug.

“Fireheart,” he breathed, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I’m-“

“No. Don’t you dare apologize for this. Or for whatever new fucked up hell you were just dreaming about,” She made to stand, a quick squeeze on his shoulder before going to turn the water to the tub on. 

“Lamb smells a lot better going in than coming out,” she remarked, giving Rowan a small smile. While they waited for the tub to fill, Aelin sat behind him, fingers pressing deep into his shoulder blades to massage the tension away. 

“I dreamt of the collars. The other night. I dreamt of Maeve using them on me to make me kill you,” Aelin began. “And Aedion, Lysandra, Dorian. . . And setting the remainder of my kingdom on fire, burning them to ashes. I dreamt of a world where she won, and I had to kill you. Butchered you as you just took it. I - It felt. . .God it felt so real.” She kissed the nape of his neck, untangled her body from his, and led him to the bath. 

Pouring a generous amount of lavender hair soap into her palms, Aelin sat on the edge of the tub, massaging it into his scalp. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes in contentment. “Join me,” he rasped. 

“Oh I plan to,” she replied. “But let me do this first. You sometimes fly away before I can take care of you.”

Rowan hummed in response. It was true. The open skies helped to clear his head and workout his energy. It had long been his preferred escapism. But now he had his mate, and there was nothing as comforting as her touch, her scent, her being inexplicably, eternally linked to his soul. It was his undoing and reforging. 

She finished her ministrations on his hair, then washed the grime of sweat and bile from his body. Aelin stripped her nightgown and undergarments, lowering herself into the heat of the large tub across from him. She sighed at the warmth, wrapping her legs around his middle so she was sitting on his lap. She continued the massaging she had begun earlier, working her way up his arms. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“You’re here now. It doesn’t matter anymore. It wasn’t. . .It wasn’t real.”

“Felt real though,” she countered. He closed the distance between them then, kissing her slowly, his mouth tracing and memorizing the taste and feel of hers as if he didn’t know it better than he knew himself. They sat like that for minutes, hours, her remaining magic keeping the water warm long after their skin had pruned. 

There would be more nightmares to come. More nights where they woke horrified and heartbroken over the horrors that plagued their minds. The only balm to its curse is the feel of each other in their arms. But as the darkness of those days become further and further away, the sharpness of its pain dulls and lessens. 

And I couldn't be sure, I had a feeling so peculiar this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.

[gracie-rosee]

Hopscotch & Sidewalk Chalk | Three

I hope you enjoy this chapter. AND! Please read the important tag list information at the end. If you see weird things like multiple of the same paragraph... ignore it. The Tumblr text editor was fighting me. Honestly, I just kinda gave up and hoped for the best. This is my third time trying to post so fingers crossed!

Word Count: 4,125 Warnings: none

H&SC Masterlist

-

"I got you!" Eleanora's voice comes from behind Aelin. She turns around with her eyebrows raised, wondering what her child is up to. It was Halloween– a holiday her daughter took very seriously. Her little girl was currently dressed up as Jessie from the Toy Story movies, and she had the whole costume almost exactly like the films, including cowgirl boots and a hat sitting on her strawberry blonde hair that Aelin braided.

"You sure did, kiddo," Aelin laughs, looking down at her feet where Eleanora's "lasso" was lying at her shoes. Having bought the costume almost at the last minute, Aelin didn't really have time to find the props, so the lasso her daughter was using was really a jump rope she found in the garage.

"Are you excited, Ella?" Aelin asks, already knowing the answer.

Her daughter beams, showing off the baby teeth she still has. "Yes!" She yells, practically breaking the sound barrier with her squeals. "Hollin issa pirate!" Eleanora declares, speaking of her older friend. Hollin was the little brother of Dorian, a friend Aelin had made in her first year of college, before Eleanora was born. He was also a spoiled brat that had absolutely no manners whatsoever. Aelin fears the day Hollin and her precious daughter will be in high school together. The thought alone is enough to give her shivers.

Eleanora is babbling about school and the friends that she's making. She is only half listening, her mind wandering off against her will.

Eleanora has been going to school for a month now, but every day Aelin drops her off, she feels like a little piece of her heart chips away and goes with her. After Aelin took her to the first day of school, she went home and cried for half an hour. It was fortunate that she didn't have any classes or work to go to that day.

Rowan made the hours without her daughter a little more bearable. He would often text her throughout the day, asking her how she was doing or just making easy conversation. There were times when he would come over to study with her, or to simply spend time together. He was a welcomed distraction.

They hadn't been on any more "dates" since he stayed over for dinner a month ago, but they have been making excuses to see one another as often as they could. That night, Eleanora fell asleep watching The Little Mermaid, so Aelin went and tucked her into bed. Her and Rowan continued watching TV until she eventually–and embarrassingly–fell asleep with her head tucked into his shoulder.

She woke a while later when Rowan started stirring beside her. The movie had apparently ended while she dozed off and it was getting pretty late. Rowan pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before bidding her good night seeing himself out.

After getting up and checking on her daughter, who was still adorably asleep, Aelin made her way to her own bed and fell asleep that night with a permanent smile on her face.

Eleanora was currently hopping up and down, tugging at her sleeve. The toddler absolutely loved going trick-or-treating and was itching to get going.

"Alright Ella, we can go. Just let me grab my jacket," she said, stopping her daughters jumping with her hands on her tiny shoulders. The answer apparently wasn't good enough for her and Aelin heard her mumble an annoyed "hurry up."

Aelin chuckles at her daughter's impatience, but a shadow was cast over her good mood. Aelin was generally a patient person with most things, so the trait was one of the few things Eleanora hadn't inherited from her. She was eternally grateful that her daughter mostly took after herself, and hadn't inherited many traits from her father. Every time she looked into Eleanora's bright blue eyes that reflected her own, she sent a prayer of thanks to the gods that she didn't have to look at her daughter and see him. Not that it would really matter if she did resemble him. Aelin would love her daughter no matter what. If she had grey eyes rather than blue, or red hair instead of blonde, Aelin would still love her as her own. Because that's what Eleanora was–she was Aelin's daughter.

The sound of someone ringing on the doorbell brought Aelin's attention back to the present. It was still early, but most of the younger children in the neighborhood were usually out trick-or-treating while it was still light out.

Eleanora was busy looping the short jump rope through her belt loops, so Aelin headed towards the door, picking up the bowl of candy on her way.

"Trick or Treat!" The kids on her doorstep were no older than Eleanora and were wearing matching pirate costumes. Aelin smiled, remembering a time when she and Aedion would run around the halls of this very house, playing make believe and pretending to be pirates or faeries. Handing them each a few pieces of candy, she waves to their mother behind them, who Aelin recognizes as one of her neighbors from down the street. The children yell an excited thank you before running back down the driveway towards their mother.

Aelin smiles, closing the door behind them and turning back to Eleanora. "Are you ready to go now, Ella?" She asks her daughter, holding out her hand for her to take. She beams, running up and grabbing her mother's outstretched hand in one hand, grasping her little pumpkin basket in the other.

Eleanora practically drags Aelin out the door, barely giving her time to turn off the porch lights and lock the door behind them. They walk hand in hand down the sidewalk, over Eleanora's chalk scribbles and doodles. Aelin only lets go of her daughter's hand to let her walk up to the doors, staying behind and taking occasional pictures of her little girl.

As the sun starts to fully set, they make their way down the road to the familiar brick house belonging to Rowan. He's not much of a decorator, but on his front steps are two pumpkins, carved with simple little faces. Aelin grins, remembering when he came over to help her and Eleanora carve their own pumpkins.

Eleanora slips free of Aelin's grasp and runs up the steps when she recognizes the house. Aelin huffs a laugh at her daughter's excitement before following her up the steps.

Rowan opens the door after many, very impatient rings from Eleanora. He's wearing a dark green shirt and simple black pants. His outfit isn't anything she isn't used to seeing him in, but what catches her eye is the big letter M on his shirt. If Aelin were to look down at her own blue shirt, she would see the exact same thing. Aelin didn't really have time to find a good costume at the last minute, so she improvised by stitching the letter to her shirt, and calling it good. A smile bloomed on her face at their coincidental matching costumes.

Rowan's gaze travels from Eleanora to her, his eyes sparkling with laughter when he notices her costume.

"Trick-or-treat!" Eleanora says excitedly, holding her pumpkin basket out for Rowan expectantly. Rowan chuckles, placing a few pieces of candy in her basket.

"Wow!" He grins down at her, tipping her hat back playfully. "Great costume, Ella."

"Thanks!" Eleanora spins around so he can see her full outfit. Not missing a single beat, she stops and points at Aelin's shirt. "Mom issa m an m!" She says, turning back around and gesturing to Rowan's matching shirt. "Just like you, Rowan!"

Rowan's eyes travel over her form before quickly darting back up to her face. Aelin smirks at his perusal and a slight flush tints his cheeks, getting caught checking her out.

He clears his throat and smiles back down at Eleanora. "I think your mom definitely wears it better," he says.

Aelin definitely disagrees. His short-sleeve shirt hugs his form perfectly and shows off the tattoos on his forearm. She's seen parts of it many times, but never the full thing. She wonders what his full tattoos look like. What do they mean? Do they stop at his arm? Do they stretch across his shoulder? Are they on his chest too?

Eleanora pokes Aelin's leg, getting her attention. "Momma," she says, her bright blue eyes looking up at her. "You say when someone gives us a compliment, we say thank you."

Aelin opens her mouth and closes it again. Her daughter is extremely perceptive. Of course Eleanora would notice her blatantly staring at Rowan. She realizes she hasn't said a word since arriving at his door.

"Thank you, Rowan," Aelin rushes out.

His eyes sparkle with humor and something else she can't quite place. Now look who's checking out who, they seemed to say.

Aelin sends him a half hearted glare. Shut up.

Eleanora looks between the two adults, oblivious to their silent conversation.

"Well," Aelin breaks the silence. "We should probably get going. Lots of houses to hit, you know." She places her hands on Eleanora's shoulders, leading her down the porch steps.

"Actually uh," Rowan stops them. He lifts up an empty plastic bowl. "I'm all out of candy. Mind if I join you guys?"

Before Aelin has the chance to reply, Eleanora beats her to it.

"Yes!" She squeals, running back up the stairs and practically glueing herself to him. Her arms wrap tightly around his waist, making Rowan's face break out into a wide smile.

Rowan looks to Aelin for confirmation. She shrugs. "She's the boss around here," Aelin gestures to her daughter who is looking up at Rowan like he hung the moon in the sky.

"You can come trick-or-treating with us, Rowan!" Eleanora shows off her tiny teeth in a huge grin.

Rowan steps back inside, grabbing a coat and flicking a switch to turn off the porch lights before stepping back outside and locking the door behind him. Eleanora eagerly leads them down the steps and onto the sidewalk to begin their "walk" again. Or in Ella's case, running from house to house.

With her daughter skipping happily in front of them, Aelin and Rowan fall behind and watch Eleanora in companionable silence.

It was a perfect night, if not just a little chilly. The trees were all vibrant shades of oranges and reds and leaves were scattered over the pavement. The evening air was cool enough that Aelin's breath clouded in front of her as they walked. A breeze swept by, causing her to shiver and wrap her arms around herself. Eleanora was so eager to leave that Aelin didn't have time to find one of her thicker jackets.

Rowan didn't miss a beat, stepping closer and tossing his jacket over her shoulders. He had yet to put it on after they left his house. In fact, he didn't even seem the least bit affected by the chill.

Aelin blushed, looking up at his beautiful green eyes. "Thank you, Rowan," she smiled at him, glancing down at his short sleeve shirt again.

Rowan noticed her questioning look and cast her a smile that warmed her more than any jacket could. "I don't get cold very often," he explained, "I just saw you shivering earlier."

Aelin looked up at him then. "Rowan Whitethorn," she drew out his name. "Such fine manners you have."

Rowan just smirked at her. "Well, we wouldn't want such a gorgeous woman to freeze to death, now would we?"

Honestly, sometimes it felt as if this man was reading off a script. He always knew how to say the right things at the right time. And it didn't help that something about Rowan just made her nervous. He made her forget words all together.

Aelin never knew what to say to him when he said things like that, so she just walked a little closer, tucking herself into his warmth. Rowan's arm came up and fell over her shoulders, tucking her into his side.

Eleanora comes running up to them from the front steps of a well decorated house. "Look!" She says excitedly, "Mr. Allsbrook gave me two pink Laffy Taffy!" Their neighbor Murtaugh Allsbrook is a nice older man who has lived in the house across the street for as long as Aelin could remember.

She remembers going to school with his grandson Ren when they were young. Her, Aedion, and Ren would often stir up trouble, probably giving Murtaugh and her parents enough gray hairs to last a lifetime.

Aelin waves to Murtaugh as they start to make their way back home. With her basket now full of candy, Eleanora is content to slow down and walk with Rowan and Aelin.

Her daughter wraps her free hand around her mother's and reaches her other hand to Rowan. Her blue eyes look up at him expectantly as she reaches her hand toward him.

Rowan quickly understands the toddler's predicament. "Want me to hold that for you?" He asks, nodding towards her candy basket.

Eleanora shoots him a suspicious look, but hands him the basket so she can free her hand. "Just don't eat any," she warns.

Rowan chuckles, placing the basket in one hand and holding hers in his other.

"Don't worry, Ella. He won't eat your candy. Rowan doesn't like sweets," Aelin chimes in, remembering the absolutely horrifying conversation her and Rowan had recently. He confessed he didn't like chocolate or any kind of sweets, and Aelin had told him they could no longer be friends. Apparently Rowan didn't think she was serious.

She will change his mind about that one day. She's sure of it.

Eleanora gasps, looking appalled at this new information. "No sweets?" She asks, as if it's somehow unbelievable.

Rowan smiles, swinging their hands back and forth. "Nope. I don't like sweets."

Eleanora glares at him. "We can't be friends anymore, Rowan."

Aelin bursts out into laughter at Rowan's shocked expression. He's looking between her and Eleanora in an over exaggerated display of sadness. Her daughter is still glaring daggers at him.

"Wow," he says to Aelin. "Wonder who she gets that from."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Aelin replies, looking away from him, but failing to hide her smile.

As they approach their house, Eleanora skips down the sidewalk, swinging Rowan's and her mother's hands with both of her own.

They walk up the steps in front of their house, Eleanora squealing as the adults lift her hands so that she jumps up each step. Her daughter giggles the entire way as they make their way to the front door.

Aelin pulls the keys out of her pocket and unlocks the door. Eleanora slips free of Rowan and Aelins hands as soon as the door is open and bolts inside, running to the table and dumping her candy on its surface, leaving the adults in the entryway.

"You can stay and watch a movie with us, or just hang out if you'd like," Aelin says, inviting Rowan in.

"Sure, I'll stay for a little while," Rowan smiles.

"Perfect," Aelin replies, shrugging Rowan's jacket off her shoulders. He takes the jacket from her and hangs it on one of the hooks by the door.

Eleanora is sitting at the dining room table, sorting out her candy, for whatever reason her five-year-old brain came up with.

"It's getting late, Ella," Aelin tells her daughter. "Why don't you go put your pajamas on and I'll put your candy in a safe place for you, okay?"

"Okay!" Eleanora jumps down from her chair, earning a stern look from her mother. "Just don't eat any," she warns for the second time that night, oblivious to the fact that she just jumped off a piece of furniture right in front of her mothers eyes–something she's gotten into trouble for on many occasions.

Aelin raises her eyebrows and she hears Rowan chuckle behind her. "Maybe I will eat some of your candy, Ella," she calls after her daughter as she bolts down the hallway.

Eleanora, apparently in the mood to get into trouble tonight, completely ignores her mother as she turns into her room.

Aelin could've sworn she taught her daughter manners at one point. Apparently her sweet little girl is no more. She blames that kid Hollin.

Aelin turns, seeing Rowan barely containing his smile at the scene that just played out before him.

"I have failed as a mother," Aelin deadpans.

Rowan chuckles, walking towards her. "Don't say that," he says, placing his hands gently on her forearms. "I think you're an amazing mother. She's a great kid," he nods in the direction Eleanora ran off to.

She's had people tell her that before, but hearing it from Rowan is different. The words open a cage of butterflies in her chest, sending warmth throughout her entire body. And for the first time, Aelin doesn't just shrug the words off. Hearing it from him, and seeing the look in his eyes… Aelin thinks she could actually believe them.

Against her will, she feels tears prick at her eyes, threatening to spill. Aelin doesn't know what to say, so she just closes the distance between their bodies and wraps her arms around him, tucking her face into his shoulder.

Rowan doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her. One of his hands comes up to cradle her head as he places a kiss on her hair.

They stay like that for mere minutes, or maybe hours, Aelin didn't know. All she knew was that this felt right. She didn't know what she was to him. Didn't know what this thing between them was or if it would even go anywhere. But she knew that right now, in this moment, she didn't want anything else.

Aelin pulled back slightly to look up at him, only to find him already gazing down at her, a look she couldn't quite decipher on his handsome face.

This close, she couldn't help her eyes from roaming across his face, from glancing down at his lips. Lips that she, admittedly, had thought about on more than one occasion.

"Rowan…" she trails off, words failing her in this intense moment.

Whatever Aelin was going to say is long forgotten as one of Rowan's hands comes up to brush her cheek, his thumb swiping softly across her cheekbone. She didn't know who leaned in first, but Aelin felt her breath hitch as their faces drew impossibly closer.

Their noses brushed, and they were close enough to share a single breath now. All it would take would be one small movement for their lips to find each other. Slowly, so slowly, the distance between them faded away until—

"All ready," Eleanora comes running back down the hallway, having changed into her pajamas.

Rowan sighs, dropping his hands back down to her arms, squeezing them gently. Aelin places her hands on his chest, reluctantly pulling away and taking a step back. They both chuckle softly at Eleanora's perfect timing.

Neither of them could keep the smiles off their faces, though, as they retreated to a friendly distance.

One of Rowan's hands remains, sliding down her arm, until his fingers brush her own. Aelin squeezes his hand once before letting go and turning to her daughter.

"Can I have some of my candy now, mommy?" Eleanora asks, flashing her adorable big blue eyes up at Aelin. Cheater.

"Alright," Aelin sighs. "You can have a few pieces tonight, but I'll expect some awesome tooth brushing from you later." She has a feeling Eleanora wouldn't mind if more of her teeth came out if it meant another visit from the tooth fairy.

Eleanora bounces up to the table, picking out a few pieces of her candy before dumping the rest back into her basket.

Rowan clears his throat from beside her, drawing her attention again. "I should probably head home now. I have to work early in the morning, so…" he trails off.

"Right," Aelin breathes, finding it hard to tear her eyes away from his emerald green ones. "I'll walk you out," she offers.

Rowan nods, following Aelin to the front door.

"Goodbye, Ella," Rowan says to her daughter.

Eleanora sits on one of the dining room chairs, swinging her legs under the table. She doesn't even look up from her candy as she says, "bye, Rowan!"

Rowan smiles as Aelin hands him his jacket off the hook. Their fingers brush momentarily, bringing her back to just minutes earlier.

Rowan tucks the jacket under his arm as he holds the front door open. He pauses for a moment before asking, "are you free this Friday?"

Aelin considers, mentally scanning her calendar. "I should be," she answers. As much as she would love to say yes, she knows that having a toddler, a job, and classes doesn't leave her much free time.

Rowan doesn't miss a beat. "Well if you are, I was thinking I could finally take you out on that date I promised you."

Aelin's grins, stepping a little closer to him. "That would be perfect," she practically whispers.

"Perfect," Rowan echoes. He opens his mouth, as if wanting to say something, before closing it again, apparently deciding against saying more.

Instead, he leans closer, and Aelin wonders if he's actually going to kiss her this time. To her disappointment, however, Rowan decides to press his lips to her cheek instead. Still, the simple action sends warmth blooming across her face. He pulls away after a moment, opening the door wider.

"Goodnight, Rowan," she says as he steps out the door.

He sends her that smile of his that always seems to make her dizzy. "Goodnight, Aelin," he says as he turns and walks down her front steps.

She watches him walk down the pathway and onto the sidewalk until eventually it would just be creepy to keep staring. Sighing, Aelin turns around and closes the door, a smile still on her face.

. . . . . .

"Alright, who will it be tonight?" Aelin asks, sitting on the edge of Eleanora's bed. She holds up two of her daughter's favorite stuffed animals in each hand for her to pick.

Eleanora's face scrunches up in an adorable display of contemplation. "Both," she decides, holding her arms out.

"Alright," Aelin says. She pulls her blanket up higher and tucks both animals in next to her. "Comfy?"

Her daughter nods, hugging her animal friends closer. "Yep!"

Aelin leans forward to press a kiss to Eleanora's wild blond hair before rising from her bed and making her way to the door. "Do you want your light on?" She asks.

"Yes, please," the five year old says from where she's tucked into her bed.

Aelin makes sure to flip the nightlight on as she leaves her daughter's room.

"Goodnight, mommy," Eleanora calls before she can make it all the way out the door.

Aelin smiles. "Goodnight, Ella," she says, stepping out of the room and leaving the door open slightly.

Aelin makes her way down the hallway, flipping off the lights and heading to her own room. Moonlight spills through her curtains, lighting a path towards her bed.

Her phone buzzes from its place on her nightstand as she sits at the edge of her bed, braiding her hair back. Aelin smiles, having an idea of who would be texting her at this hour.

Ever since he stayed for dinner that night several weeks ago, Rowan has started texting her goodnight before she goes to bed. It never fails to make her heart beat a little faster in her chest whenever she sees his message.

Reaching towards her nightstand, she picks up her phone and opens her messages.

Goodnight, Aelin :)

Rowan's message is simple and sweet.

But his words aren't what make her heart skip a beat in her chest.

Her smile falls as she reads on. Below Rowan's message is another that was sent just minutes before his.

The number isn't one she has assigned a contact, but she knows who it's from almost immediately. Aelin reads the text over and over until the words are burned into her brain.

I want to see my daughter.

. . . . . .

That night, Aelin doesn't sleep. She makes her way back into Eleanora's room, where her daughter is sound asleep.

Aelin sinks down onto the small mattress next to Eleanora's sleeping form amongst the many pillows and stuffed animals and pulls her small body close to her.

All night Aelin lays there, her daughter tucked into her side where she could protect her from all the pain this world has to offer.

Her daughter is her love, her home, her reason for living. She'd be damned if she let him take this from her too.

. . . . . .

Well.... I did say angst didn’t I? Lol.

Anyways

Tag List:

This is a general tag list I found in my docs. I don't know how old it is or anything but his is just what I have. There were a whole bunch of blogs that wouldn’t tag, so I removed them. I’m aware some people’s tags may have fallen into the void, never to be seen again. I think like half of the original tag list is just gone. So, if you would like to be tagged, please let me know and I will add you. And if you would like to be removed, just ask. No hard feelings :)

@swankii-art-teacher 

@perseusannabeth 

@laraexia 

@sleeping-and-books 

@mu-si-ca-l 

@superspiritfestival

@booksofthemoon 

@danibutterr 

@tswaney17 

@live-the-fangirl-life 

@rowaelinismyotp 

@charlizeed 

@courtofjurdan 

@rowansfirebringer 

@infernoqueen19 

@slytheringalathynius

@story-scribbler

@themoonthestarsthesuriel

@hellasblessed​

---

[talkfantasytome]

Model Students - Part 2

Aelin came! She actually made it to the party, and to her delight, Rowan seems to be sticking by her side. She can't help but hope, if she's smart with her drinks, she might have a chance at a really good night.

Warnings: Drinking | Word Count: 3,031

Previous Part | Model Students Masterlist | Read on AO3

a/n: Rowaelin Month Prompt: College or University AU

I'm calling this Rowaelin Month Day 2.5 since, a) this is my second prompt for day 2; b) it's coming to you on day 3; and c) you could argue this hints at a potential opportunity/need for a secret relationship, so if you're being creative and liberal could say this is on the verge of day 3. 😂

Not to date myself or anything, but for all you people too young to know, when snapchat was originally created, it was first used/known as an app for sexting, because the images/videos would only play once, you couldn't replay them (back then), and if you screenshotted a picture, the person would be notified about it. I honestly don't know if that last part is still a thing, but yeah. Or, at least, when I first heard about it, that's one thing people said, that it's good for that. 👀 So, this is relevant. And, even if I'm kinda wrong...just pretend I'm right when reading this.

Aelin couldn't help but smile when she saw Rowan standing there in the middle of the living room. Their eyes had met, and she let herself get lost in the pine green sea as she entered the house behind an enthusiastic Dorian.

He'd texted her about half an hour before, saying he wasn't letting her make a last minute excuse to miss the party, so he'd swing by and they could walk over together. Luckily, she'd already gotten dressed and was in the midst of doing her make-up at the pace of molasses, trying to make sure she wasn't ready too soon. She didn't want to get there early, but she didn't really have anything else to do once she was done, except maybe stare at herself in the mirror.

It wouldn't be the worst way to spend a few minutes, as she'd really outdone herself. She was wearing a metallic gold, backless halter top with gold chain straps that fell loose in her front, and covered her up fairly well, but with only one chain strap around her neck, and another around her waist, it literally left her entire back open, the chains just tight enough to keep her from putting something private on display. She also left her hair down and loose, which offered some small amount of coverage…at times. Below the shirt she was wearing a cute, light wash denim mini-skirt with a few rips and a frayed hem. It was simple, and helped keep the top from being too much, plus it was one of her favorite skirts and gave her some much needed comfort.

Not that Aelin was nervous about the party. She wasn't a hermit. Just determined and ambitious. But she was still sociable, with absolutely stellar interpersonal skills…generally speaking. Charisma was the key word, and she'd be lying to say she hadn't been blessed with a natural talent for it. She just didn't take it out to play as often as most, spending so many nights in the library, with study groups, or reading up on the emerging conflict between Doranelle and Wendlyn. Nothing truly awful had happened yet, but Doranelle was showing signs of hostility that worried Aelin. And kept her heavily engaged in reading more on the topic. Just one of the many reasons she found herself as more of a bi-weekly party-goer.

It drove her housemate Lysandra crazy. Of course, Lysandra sleeping with Aelin's cousin drove Aelin crazy, so they really were even. It was just a different type of crazy. Aelin was rather uncomfortable every time she heard Aedion's voice, or worse, his…sounds. Lysandra, on the other hand, was 'worried' Aelin wasn't actually happy with her current lifestyle.

She appreciated the concern, but it was unnecessary. Happiness was reaching her goals. It was getting the marks to find the best internship at the capital in Orynth this coming summer. It was working for two years for a Senator before applying to Oakwald Law School, the top law school in all of Erilea. It was getting into Oakwald and spending the next three years studying law, specializing in Constitutional Law and Public Policy, of course. Maybe seeing if she can get in some Criminal Law classes too. And it was then going back to Orynth to make a name for herself as a lawyer, subtly campaigning until there was an open Senate seat for her to run for.

She wouldn't wait until she was president to worry about happiness, but she could wait until after law school, at least. She had some tight deadlines to focus on.

Still, even Aelin could agree that letting loose every once in a while was a good thing. Plus, being in Terrasen, surely a good chunk of the students here would be future voters. But, was that too much?

Nah. It's good to think ahead. It's what will set you apart.

Not that she was actually thinking about potential future voters now. She had a quite the distraction at this party.

Eyes still on Rowan, Aelin started toward him just as he began to move as well, his lips curving upward, revealing the adorable little dimples in his cheeks. She could stare at them all day.

"You came!" he beamed, stopping once they were about a foot away from each other.

"We had a deal," she teased. "I appreciated the proof of you upholding your end of the bargain." A light twinkled in Rowan's eyes at the mention of the snapchat he'd sent her. An image of the trunk of his car, full of beer, cider, ginger ale, vodka, and a thing of grenadine larger than Aelin had ever seen before, with a caption that said, 'Your turn.'

"Well, if you'd sent one back proving you were getting ready, I might be less surprised."

A laugh slipped out of Aelin. "Rowan Whitethorn! Surely you're not suggesting I use snapchat for its original purposes."

Rowan's face fell, his cheeks flushing red as he realized what was being suggested. "Oh! No! No! I-I didn't mean…"

His eyes were wide and fearful, making Aelin want to laugh even harder. She hadn't realized how easy it would be to torture him. They hadn't known each other very well before this year. He'd simply been that guy she'd ogle from across a party, their major and semi-mutual friends bringing them to the same place every once in a while. And, it's not like she'd had opportunities like this during class. But she was going to enjoy this new little tidbit about him.

"I know," Aelin offered with a wicked grin, ending Rowan's stuttering as his mouth slammed shut and he gave her a small glare.

"Demon," he muttered, but there was an amusement in his features that swelled Aelin's heart. "Come on, let's get you a Dirty Shirley."

He started walking toward a corner of the living room, which made Aelin realize there was a cooler slightly hidden there as she followed. "Don't knock it 'till you try it."

"I think I'll stick with my beer," Rowan chuckled, leaning down and opening the large, green cooler. "But, don't worry, apparently it's embarrassing enough." He handed her a can as he pulled out the vodka, grenadine, and a can of ginger ale, and Aelin took a look.

"Oh my gosh, it's so cute!" she squealed, taking in the cartoon kittens. "I love it! If I liked beer at all, I'd totally try this just for the can."

"You can try some now, if you want," he offered, handing her a red cup to mix her drink in.

Aelin laughed as she handed the can back to him before kneeling at the cooler and starting to prepare her drink. Vodka first, about two to three shots worth, then as much ginger ale as she could fit into the cup without being at risk of spilling, and then a healthy pour of grenadine. And a splash more. "I think I'll pass. When you don't like beer at all, trying an IPA is basically asking to gag…no offense. I'm sure it's great, if you're a fan of that type of taste."

She threw a smile over her shoulder at Rowan and then took a sip of her drink. Sweet, cherry, with just enough vodka to know it's there. It was perfect. She threw the vodka and grenadine back in the cooler, gulped down another mouthful, and added some ice to the drink to keep it cool.

"And I'm sure yours is too, if you're looking for something that tastes like sugar." He grinned at her as he poured his beer into an empty cup.

"Which I am." She watched Rowan suck in his lips, as if he were biting down on them to hold back a laugh. "It's the best flavor."

Rowan just shook his head, his silver hair shining in the light that was just above them. Aelin slid her free hand into the back pocket of her skirt, an attempt to keep herself from running her fingers through it.

"Come on. I want you to meet some people," Rowan said, jerking his head to the side in a 'follow-me' sign, which she did. He led her over to a group of three guys and a girl. One of the guys and the girl had darker skin and black hair, the girl's falling to just below her shoulders, the boy's to around the middle of his back, though they didn't look related at all. Which was probably a good thing, considering the arm the man had around her waist. One of the men had shaggy, dirty blonde hair that almost fell into his brown eyes, and the last had skin just a bit darker than her own, with shoulder-length dark hair and chocolate eyes. He stood straight backed and muscular, though wasn't quite as tall or broad as Rowan.

"Aelin, this is Nesryn, Sartaq, Ress, and Ren," Rowan explained, pointing to each person in turn. "Everyone, this is Aelin. She's in the Model UN class I've been TAing for."

"The clever one?" Nesryn asked, cocking her head slightly as she looked Aelin over.

"Most definitely," Aelin responded with a smirk.

Rowan balked slightly, looking down at Aelin. "I never said that."

"No?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, then you horribly misrepresented me. Unless you instead chose to describe me as gorgeous…breathtaking…what gets you up in the morning. Those would work too."

The others chuckled with Aelin as Rowan rolled his eyes. "Caught me, that's definitely what I would tell them."

"Then you all already know so much about me." She grinned widely, earning another chorus of laughter.

Aelin continued talking with the group, though she spent most of the time teasing Rowan - which they all seemed to appreciate - and as she did, the party started to fill up. What seemed like a never ending parade of students entered the house, most making their way directly to the back yard where the twins seemed to be keeping everyone entertained with music and beer games constantly going.

All five did seem to be on the same page about convincing her to join the club, to the point that she agreed to attend a meeting on a trial basis, but made no guarantee. At that, Rowan slung an arm around her and squeezed in a celebratory way that had Aelin blushing like crazy, sipping her drink slowly in an attempt to use the cup to hide the red on her face.

He then left his arm around her as they continued to chat, everyone pitching in to explain the different things they do during meetings, how they prepare for conferences, and so on. Aelin, admittedly, wasn't really listening. Her entire being was focused on Rowan's arm, casually draped across her. How his hand dangled over her front, his fingers brushing the skin of her bicep when they moved. The feel of his bare forearm on her bare shoulder, igniting something within her, spreading from that point of contact.

It was…a lot. And half of Aelin was already wishing for another drink, not even done with her first. The other half very much didn't want to move from that spot, and also wondered if she should avoid drinking more…just in case. She wouldn't want to embarrass herself…or find herself too drunk to take her chance with Rowan. He did seem like the respectful type, like the kind of guy who'd never take advantage of a drunk girl, no matter how much she wanted it even when sober.

Yes, best to stay put, in his arm, and just nurse her one drink for the rest of the night. Just in case.

The group dispersed not long after Aelin agreed to join a meeting, Ress and Ren saying they wanted to get in on a game of beer pong, Sartaq and Nesryn very clearly wanting to leave to engage in other, private activities. Aelin told herself she wasn't jealous.

"Another drink?" Rowan offered, leading Aelin back to the cooler.

"I'm still working on mine, so I'm good," she answered as he reached in and pulled out another beer. Maybe she'd be able to grab a cider later. That could be a safe choice.

Rowan stood up as he poured his second can into his cup, his eyes flicking over Aelin's shoulder. "That was fast," he sighed, laughing softly to himself.

Aelin looked behind her quickly to see the golden twin - Fenrys, she thought - now inside the house, bracing himself against a wall with one hand, Dorian trapped between that and the arm Fenrys had at his hip. Though, Dorian didn't exactly look trapped. Not as he smiled up at Fenrys, the two leaning in until their lips met.

She quickly turned back to Rowan, her cheeks flushed once again. "I didn't realize they were together."

"They're not," Rowan explained. "They just do this every party. Fenrys claimed they wouldn't tonight but, well…clearly I was right to not believe him."

Aelin joined Rowan in his laughter. She didn't know Fenrys well, but from what she did know, that sounded very in character. And exactly like something she knew Dorian would do. "I assume you'll call him out on it tomorrow morning?"

"If I don't get the chance to tonight," Rowan said with a conspiratorial grin. She smiled back at him, their eyes truly locking for the first time since she got to the party.

It was as if they'd suddenly been transported to a new location, quiet and free of any distractions, anything that could pull their attention away from each other. Aelin found herself biting softly on her bottom lip as her mind started to run rampant at the sign of those bright eyes focused on her.

Rowan definitely noticed, his gaze flicking between Aelin's mouth and her own eyes, and it caused her breath to hitch. She felt her body start to lean in a bit, and was about to take a step forward when a voice broke through whatever spell had been cast.

"Aelin!" The shout was high-pitched, but not shrill, and familiar. Aelin turned to see a petite brunette walking toward her excitedly and she couldn't stop the smile spreading on her face.

"Elide!" she responded happily, helping the girl close the gap before giving her a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm great!" she exclaimed with a big grin. "I hear I have you to thank for the Dirty Shirley supplies."

Aelin laughed. "Naturally."

"Such a provider," Elide teased. "Hi Rowan!"

"Elide. Where's the shadow?" Rowan asked.

Just then a dark-hair man appeared at Elide's side, his shoulder sitting just above Elide's head.

"Rowan. Galathynius," the man grunted, glaring slightly at Aelin.

"Salvaterre," she replied in a similarly flat tone.

Elide looked between the two, her face seeming delighted. "You two know each other?"

Aelin beamed. "Oh yes. We had Criminal Law together last year. Very fun class…for me."

"I did just fine," Lorcan growled, rolling his eyes. "I don't need to be the teacher's pet to pass."

"Neither do I," Aelin argued.

Lorcan's black eyes flicked meaningfully between Rowan and Aelin. "Could've fooled me."

Rowan choked on his drink as Aelin gaped. She couldn't help it. And the look of satisfaction on Lorcan's face only annoyed her further. "Don't be jealous, Lorcan. We can't all be likeable. We need dicks like you to remind everyone how nice the rest of us are."

Vindication swept through Aelin as she watched Lorcan's face fall into his signature scowl. He looked as if he was going to bare his teeth at her, but Elide seemed to calm him, laying a hand on his forearm.

Interesting.

Aelin hadn't been aware of that development. She wasn't entirely sure she liked it, but if anyone could wrangle a guy like Lorcan it was Elide.

"Lorcan, didn't you promise to give me a tour?" Elide asked in a soft voice, pulling his attention back to her. He gave her a gentle smile - something Aelin never thought she'd see on the man - and then took her hand, leading her away from Aelin and Rowan.

"How long has that been going on?" Aelin's eyes didn't leave the couple until they'd rounded a corner.

"Less than a month," Rowan answered. "To the best of my knowledge, they met in the Diplomacy class they have this semester."

Aelin nodded in understanding, looking back at him. "It's oddly fitting, though, Elide's an old family friend. I don't like how this means I'll probably have to see Lorcan a lot more often."

Rowan chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Sorry for what he said…about…you know, us and the teacher's pet thing…"

"Och, don't worry about it," she breathed, waving her hand nonchalantly. "I learned to ignore Lorcan Salvaterre week one of Criminal Law last semester. Besides, if I was going to be the teacher's pet of any of my professors or TAs…"

She smirked up at him, tilting her head slightly, allowing her hair to flow to one side of her body, showing off the skin of her neck for him just a bit. Definitely hoping to get back to where they'd been before Elide had interrupted them.

Rowan gulped, the movement easy to follow, and his ears were tinted pink as he looked her over, his eyes darting between her gaze, her mouth, and her displayed neck.

He took a step closer, and she let her smile grow, telling him she wanted this too.

Her heart fluttered rapidly, her eyes glued on his. She'd fantasized about this more times than she cared to admit. And now it was about to happen, and there was nothing that could stop Aelin.

He was just reaching his hand out, as if he were about to caress her face, when the front door swung open loudly and a deep voice Aelin knew far too well broke through the crowd.

"Looks like the party can finally start!"

Aelin squeezed her eyes shut, groaning slightly as she felt Rowan's body pull away to a respectable distance. And when she opened them, she turned to see exactly what she expected.

In the foyer, looking directly into the living room, was Lysandra, arm in arm with her cousin Aedion.

Fine. There was one thing that could stop Aelin.

There will be a part 3. 😄

[manonblaqkbeak]

Motel Living

this idea would not leave me alone, despite me having like three other fics barely done. it is very random. i dont even know what to say lol.

2554 words

enjoy!

Today was officially the one month anniversary of Aelin moving into a three-star motel. She did not think she'd be here for long, a couple of weeks at most, but here she was a month later, and on a Friday night no less. She should have been out with her friends, but she opted to stay inside.

She had to tell herself that she shouldn't complain. That there were people that were worse off than her. Living in a motel was fine.

But it still didn't change the fact that Aelin wished she wasn't living in a motel room. Especially one that was popular with long haul truckers whose snores sounded like chain saws and blenders on the highest level. That right now, down in the restaurant/pub that was only six doors down, an important football game was playing and the patrons inside were cheering wildly.

Aelin missed the house that she had been renting the last three years. Last year she had decided to start saving so that she could purchase the house itself, since it was still on the market since the day she moved in. It was hard, but Aelin was a determined woman and she set her sights on purchasing the house—she felt like she practically owned it anyway—up until the day she received a call from the real estate agency telling her that the house had been purchased and she had to move out.

Aelin disliked crying, but the waterworks started the minute she hung up. She really did love that house. Had created a small vegetable and herb garden to make it feel more homely. Made it hers in the three years she had occupied it.

There was a tiny silver-lining, however, since the new owners were coming from the other side of the continent, she had plenty of time to pack and move out.

But that silver-lining quickly disappeared once she started her search for a new home in-between packing and work. Every apartment, every house, every unit she looked out at was taken by the time she handed in her application. Every inspection starting to become fruitless when she knew that she wouldn't be the one to live in it.

Aelin hadn't realised that the market had become so cut-throat. She knew she was the perfect applicant because in all her years renting she never missed a single day, never received a complaint. Even when the landlord dragged his ass to fix something, Aelin kept her temper in its leash and did not throttle him the way she wanted too.

And as her luck ran out and Aelin had started to truly worry about where she was going to live because while she had multiple people in her life, she quickly realised that she couldn't ask any of them if she could move in for multiple reasons:

Aedion and Lysandra were recently married, and Aelin hadn't wanted to burst their newlywed bubble.

Chaol and Yrene were brand new parents, their baby girl born the day Aelin moved out, and she knew the last thing they wanted was someone else in the way.

Nehemia was in the same position as her, but her parents had invited her back home while Nehemia looked for somewhere else. Aelin's parents were dead, and her childhood home had been destroyed in a wildfire a five years ago, and Aelin had used the insurance money to pay off her debts. She cursed herself now for doing that, but Aelin hated being in debt and she did what she had too.

Fenrys lived in a one bedroom unit and had the worlds most uncomfortable couch, so he was out. And while Fenrys was one of her best friends, she didn't really talk with Connall, his twin. Nor did she often talk with Vaughn.

Dorian and Manon were travelling all over Erilea and Dorian's younger brother Hollin was house-sitting. Aelin couldn't stand Hollin for more than a few minutes at a time and she would rather live in the motel for a year than live in with him.

And then there was Rowan. He had been a close friend for years, until five months ago they decided that they had liked each other too much to keep being friends and officially started dating (at Lysandra and Aedion's wedding, of all places). If they had been together for longer, she would have asked him—but she didn't want to rush anything, because Aelin could so clearly see a future with him and she didn't want to hurt that future by moving in far too early in their relationship.

So that left Elide, her lifelong friend that was more like a sister. Elide was purely on the bottom of the list since she knew her friend cherished living alone after living in a shit-hole with her even shittier uncle—but Aelin knew Elide and if Aelin needed a place to stay, then Elide's door would be wide open. The two had gone to lunch and Aelin had been just moments away from telling Elide everything and asking for a world changing favour.

Until Elide had excitedly announced that Lorcan was going to move in.

And Aelin's plan had deflated. Again, Aelin knew that if Elide was aware of how desperate she was, Elide would invite Aelin to stay, but since Lorcan and Aelin didn't particularly get along, Aelin kept her mouth shut and congratulated her friend for the new milestone in their relationship.

So, all her options completely exhausted, Aelin looked for vacant motels, found that this was the best out of all the options and became a long-standing tenant.

Aelin had managed to keep everyone away from her new apartment by claiming that it wasn't ready for visitors. Most knew that Aelin was house-proud, a trait that she had inherited from her late mother, so they knew that when Aelin was ready, she would invite them.

It was getting hard, however, to keep Rowan away. Each date night and hang out ended up at his apartment and Rowan was becoming curious as to how her new place was looking.

Rowan wasn't judgemental, and he wouldn't look down at her for living in a motel room, but Aelin was the problem; she was too proud to show him her new place. Even when she was at her lunch with Elide, she had to beat down her pride at just the mere thought of asking Elide if she could move in.

Tonight, however, Aelin knew in her bones that Rowan would ask to come over. He had a completely shitty day at work—one that ended up in the hospital because for the first time in his career as a carpenter, Rowan had somehow gotten his hand in the way of his nail gun and shot right through the middle of his palm and was off work until it healed, which Rowan hated the most out of the whole ordeal, since Rowan was the type of person that always had to be doing something.

So when his face finally popped up on her phone screen, Aelin muffled a groan into her pillow (because there was no way in hell she was using the standard sheets the motel provided, she needed her bedding or she wouldn't get any sleep), took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto her face.

“How's the hand?” she asked by way of greeting.

“It'd be a lot better if there wasn't a hole in it,” was his groggy reply. “I just woke up from the longest nap and thought of you.”

“That's sweet of you to say,” Aelin said, “do you want me to come over? I could cook you my world famous grilled cheese.” Please say yes, she thought, please.

“As much as I love the sound of that, I just need to get out of my house,” Rowan said, “I know that you're house-proud and if you don't want me to see it, I understand, I'll even wear a blind fold if that'll make you happy, but I just...” he trailed off and Aelin could see his pained expression even though they were miles apart.

“Seeing all your work tools is making you miserable,” she supplied. Rowan grunted in confirmation. Taking a deep breath, Aelin said, “You can come over, I don't mind. I'd be happy to see you.” And she would be. She'd just have to kick her pride in the corner. “There's a pub right around the corner from mine and the cheeseburgers they have are really fucking good, and I mean that sincerely. Do you want me to get you one? Because I only have snacks and canned food at the moment.”

“A burger sounds good, with extra tomato, please.”

Aelin smiled. “Of course, I'll text you the address, and I'll see you soon.”

After ordering their dinner, Aelin tidied up (even though the space was immaculate) and waited, and waited. When a gentle knock sounded at her door, Aelin took the food from the restaurant worker and was just about to go back in when Rowan's truck pulled up.

Even ten car spots away, Aelin could see his puzzled expression from where she stood. Placing the food on the small, round dining table, Aelin waited by the door and gave Rowan her best smile when he stood in front of her.

His puzzled expression melted away momentarily when she kissed him hello, but it was back in full force when they pulled away.

“Fireheart,” was all he said, and it said everything that he didn't say.

“I know.”

“You're living in a motel room.” There was no judgement in his voice, like she knew there wouldn't be, but it was clear that he was confused about the whole thing. She should have just told him. She loved her late mother, but really hated the fact that she had passed her pride to Aelin. She hated the fact that, deep down, she was embarrassed, even if Aelin told herself that she had no reason to. The housing market was insane, there was no where else for her to go, and that she hated herself for not saving more money to buy her home of three years.

“I am,” Aelin said, “but it's not so bad. It's affordable and clean.” Aelin invited him inside and sat him down the small dining table.

From his spot, he took in the space. Saw the bar fridge that could barely hold a bags worth of cold food, her toaster oven and the dual butane stove she had to purchase because she didn't want to have to use the toaster oven all the time. The tiny closet that held a decent amount of clothes, but didn't make a dent in her considerable mountain of clothes that she had put away in the storage unit she was renting.

None of her candles were in sight and no books either. Aelin was taking full advantage of her library apps, but it wasn't the same. Aelin loved the feeling of a book in her hands, but there was no space and it would have been silly to bring in her bookcases.

“Where's all your stuff?”

“In a storage unit. I considered living in there, but it doesn't have an air-conditioner and this place does.”

Before Rowan could say anything, Aelin turned on the TV, put on whatever movie sounded dumb enough and ate her dinner.

Aelin could see the question burning in his eyes as she stuffed her mouth to avoid answering that very question.

Why didn't Aelin ask if she could stay with him?

Aelin wanted to tell him, she really did, but was afraid that if she showed how serious she was, Rowan might admit that he wasn't as serious as her.

But Aelin knew herself, knew that she was going to tell him at one point or another. She could tell Rowan anything and he wouldn't flinch. It was her own doubt stopping her.

“That really is the best burger I've ever had,” Rowan said when he was finished.

“It really is,” was all Aelin could think of to say. Gods, she felt so damned awkward. The question was still in Rowan's eyes, even as he laughed at the movie and its stupidity. So to avoid it for a bit longer, Aelin took the take-away boxes into the dumpster outback and immediately went for a shower afterwards.

When she came out, Rowan was lounging on her bed, his injured hand laying across his chest, the other arm fiddling with her comforter. Aelin dressed in a shirt that she may have borrowed without asking from Rowan and a pair of sleep shorts.

Borrowing underneath her comforter, Aelin rested her head on Rowan's chest and the awkwardness she felt deflated a bit as he pressed a kiss on her head.

Aelin told him how she ended up here. Including her embarrassment and annoyance at herself. Rowan listened attentively, as he always did. That was one of the biggest things she loved about him, that he listened. And Aelin was in love with him, she knew without a doubt. She was certain she fell in love with him when he danced with her at Aedion and Lysandra's wedding.

When the credits started to roll, Aelin took a deep breath and decided to plunge into uncharted territories. She kept her eyes glued onto the screen.

Aelin decided to bite the bullet. If it all went to hell, she would beat herself up later.

“I don't want to fuck things up with you.” Well, that wasn't how she wanted to start this conversation, but she supposed it was the best way to start off. “I wanted to ask you if I could move in, but our relationship is just so new, and I didn't want to ruin our future, because I can see a future with you, Rowan.” Moving so that she could look Rowan in the eye, Aelin took the deepest plunge imaginable and told him, “I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.”

The smile he gave her was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. “I love you, too, Aelin.” Reaching down to kiss her, all of Aelin's doubts melted away. When he pulled back, Rowan said softly, “If you wish to ask, I'll say yes. Because I see a future with you too. You're the one for me.”

“Rowan, can I move in with you?”

He kissed her again. “Yes, you can.”

Aelin's cheeks were started to become sore from all her smiling. Maybe it was a good thing after all that she ended up living here.

Hours later, after another bad movie and celebrating the new milestone in their relationship (which was mainly Aelin laughing as she rode Rowan because he kept forgetting about his injured hand), Aelin and Rowan got ready for bed, and as Aelin rested her head on his chest again, she said, “Just to let you know, I'm going to replace your mattress for mine, because yours is hard as stone.”

“That's exactly why I'm letting you move in, I'm in the market for a new mattress.”

Aelin playfully whacked his chest and muttered what a buzzard he was, but soon fell asleep with a smile on her face, ready for her future with Rowan.

[dawninlatin]

Queen of Peace, chapter 19

A manorian High School AU

Words: 4,7k

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn’t let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?

Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.

What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?

cw: sexually explicit content

that's right guys, you're getting smut;););)

please excuse any mistakes though (and how bad the smut is) because it's 4am here, i just finished the longest chapter i've ever written, and i need to fucking sleep<3

You only get one night upon the shore

So dance like you’ve never danced before

And the dance floor is filling up with blood

But, oh, Lord, you’ve never been so in love

- Florence + The Machine, Mermaids

Dorian glanced at Manon for what was probably the hundredth time in the fifteen minutes they’d been sitting in the library, working on their homework together. 

She looked entirely consumed by her math problems, but Dorian knew her well enough by now to notice the tension in her jaw, how high her shoulders were. The whole day, really, she’d seemed…off.

He’d wanted to ask her about it earlier, but the whole day had been a whirlwind of catching up with friends he hadn’t seen for weeks, teachers bombarding them with fresh assignments, and just trying to stay awake after waking up so early again.

Now, though, things had calmed down at the end of the day, and Dorian finally asked, «Is everything alright?»

Manon didn’t even look up from her notebook, she just shrugged. «Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?»

To anyone else, she might have been convincing, but Dorian noted how hard she stared at the book in front of her, how her voice was a little too light.

«Are you sure? You just seem a little…tired today.»

She sighed, before finally looking up, meeting his eyes. Her own had dark circles underneath, giving further confirmation to Dorian’s worries. 

«I didn’t get enough sleep last night, and then I show up here and we get way more assignments than I had expected, and we’re not where we should be with the dance team, and-»

Manon halted, squeezing her eyes shut. «Sorry, you don’t wanna hear about all this.» 

The last words came out as a whisper, and she looked down at the table once more. Reaching over and taking her hand in his, Dorian said, «Don’t apologize, please. You can always talk to me.»

She didn’t answer, only stroked his hand once, twice. He could tell that there was something else on her mind, but Dorian knew when to stop pushing. They could talk about it later, when Manon was ready.

After a few moments, she gave him a teasing smile, glancing up at him. «As soon as I finish these math problems things will get ten times better. You don’t happen to be an expert on differential equations, do you?»

Dorian snorted. «I sit next to Aelin in that class, so I rarely have any idea what Mr. Kelley is talking about.»

«He’s the teacher who doesn’t give a shit, right?» Manon said with a chuckle, the she cringed. «I was lucky enough to get Mrs. Hughes for the second year in a row.»

«You have my deepest condolences,» Dorian said, putting a fist to his heart as he recalled countless horror stories from other students about the teacher. She loved giving huge assignments without warning and with way too little time to finish them, rarely gave anyone above a B- out of principle, and should have retired about twenty years ago.

Manon was laughing though, her eyes seeming a bit more alive. «I heard she actually got fired once, but they couldn’t get anyone else, so they had to rehire her.»

«This gives me a newfound admiration of Mr. Kelley, you know? He wants to be there as little as we do, and honestly, he’s so real for that.»

«Is it true that he just let someone sleep through an entire lesson once?»

Grinning, Dorian said, «Not just once. He believes that if someone doesn’t want to learn, then that’s not his problem, and if they’re not disturbing him, he doesn’t give a shit.»

«Ugh, why did you get all the fun teachers?» Manon fake-whined, rolling her eyes.

Dorian batted his lashes as he joked, «I guess someone as talented and good-looking as me simply deserve it.»

«Can you make out with a mirror somewhere else, please? I’m trying to do math here.» Manon gagged for emphasis, and then they both lost it, dissolving into giggles, homework forgotten. 

These study dates were fun, but they also had a habit of distracting each other so much they rarely got any work done. Not that Dorian minded, though.

«Hey, do you have any plans this Saturday?» Dorian asked when the laughter had died down, suddenly remembering another question he’d been meaning to ask.

Manon closed her book, giving up on the homework for now. Raising a single eyebrow, she replied, «Nope. I’m actually home alone this weekend.»

«Well so is Aelin, and she’s throwing a party, obviously,» Dorian smirked, remembering Aelin’s excited rambling from earlier that day:

«Those idiots has asked my cousin Aedion to ‘keep an eye on me’, so he’s obviously getting us booze and not saying a word about the party as long as he gets to join!»

«Would you perhaps like to go with me?» He gave Manon his best pleading eyes as he asked, hoping and praying she would say yes. When she didn’t answer, he added, «I promise it’ll be fun, and we can leave whenever you want.»

Humming, as if deep in thought, Manon stood up, walking over to Dorian’s side of the table. He pushed his chair out to stand up as well, but before he got the chance, she gracefully sat down on his lap, hands resting on his shoulders.

«I suppose I could…» Manon replied. «Would your friends even want me there?» The question was careful.

Dorian brought his hands to her back, going up and down in lazy strokes. That she even worried about this brought a stinging sensation to his chest. «Of course they would. They know I care about you, and I think you’ll get along pretty well, once you get to know each other.»

He actually worried a little, for the chaos that would unfold when Manon and Aelin eventually became friends and ganged up on the rest of them. He was mostly excited, though, because no doubt Chaol would be the one suffering the most. 

«How much have you told them about us?» Manon chewed on her lip as she asked, playing with his hair.

«That we’re friends, but also…more.» They still hadn’t defined whatever was between them, even if Dorian knew exactly what he wanted. He had known for a while though, he just needed to find the right moment to ask…

Fuck it…

Holding Manon’s gaze, her eyes like golden flames, he took a deep breath. «I would love to introduce you as my girlfriend, though?»

He’d known from the second he’d wanted to ask that there was a big chance she’d say no, but part of him had still hoped, and that hope grew as she smiled slightly.

Then she crashed her lips to his in a hungry kiss. While her hands cupped his face, his own traveled down her back until he got a good hold of her magnificent ass. Manon let out a low moan as he squeezed, and the sound sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his dick.

Her tongue pushed against his mouth, and he opened for her, yearning for the taste of her. 

Dorian wanted more, needed more, but then they both seemed to remember that they actually were in the middle of the school library, and even if they were alone right now, anyone could walk by and see them.

They managed to force themselves apart, and Dorian was surprised he could even speak, since he was in the midst of the single fucking hottest moment of his life, and all that. «Is that a yes, then?»

Her forehead resting against his, Manon breathed, «Yes, I’ll go to the party with you…as your girlfriend.»

A grin spread on Dorian’s face, one that was mirrored on Manon’s, and she let out a bright laugh, the sound of it the most wonderful Dorian had ever heard.

«Can’t wait,» he murmured back, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

«Me neither,» Manon replied, then she stood up, moving back to her own side.

Before Dorian could even register what was happening, she’d gathered up all her things, putting them in her bag. «What…why…» he stammered out.

Giving him a teasing look, Manon said, «We should probably leave before someone catches us and gives us detention. I also have to be home soon.» Her tone got more serious as she said that last part, and Dorian wished they could have stayed in this bubble forever.

He didn’t move, though, and when Manon was done packing, ready to leave, she asked, «Are you coming too?»

Dorian glanced down, then shifted, trying to hide the boner he was currently sporting. «I can not walk out in front of other people right now.» His face was burning as he said the words.

Manon looked confused for a few seconds, before she broke into a taunting smirk, throwing a pointed glance at his lap. «That sounds like your problem to deal with.»

Then she turned around and left, throwing a careless «Goodbye» over her shoulder. Dorian was sure she swung her hips as much as she did on purpose, knowing his eyes would stay locked on them (and her ass, let’s be real here) until she was out of sight, It certainly didn’t help his situation.

Oh, how he fucking needed it to be Saturday already.

-

When Manon had agreed to go to the party with Dorian, she had still been a little skeptical, but now, as she walked up to Aelin’s house, hand in hand with her boyfriend, she felt nothing but excitement.

Naturally, meeting and hanging out with his friends made her a little nervous, but she trusted Dorian, believed in him, when he said everything would be fine.

Already, it was filling up with people, the bass of some pop song pulsating out into the cold January night.

Dorian stopped right before the porch, turning towards Manon. «Ready?»

Letting out a foggy breath, Manon gave him a bright smile, reaching up on her toes to press a kiss to his mouth. «Lead the way,» she said, before Dorian brought his arm around her shoulders, tucking her in close.

Together, they entered the house, Dorian taking them right to a spacious kitchen, where Aelin, Chaol, and a few other people Manon recognized from school, were in the midst of an eager discussion.

Immediately, Aelin spotted them and leapt from where she was cozied up to Rowan Whitethorn. «You made it!» she exclaimed, throwing herself around Dorian. Manon didn’t really know what to do with herself, so she just stood there, giving Aelin an awkard hi once she was done embracing Dorian.

Manon had expected a short, somewhat friendly greeting in return, but Aelin had to be pretty drunk already, because to Manon’s great surprise, she threw her arms around her as well. Manon stiffened at first, unsure what to do, but then decided to just roll with it and return the hug. She threw a questioning look at Dorian, but he simply shrugged, giving her a warm smile.

«I’m so glad you wanted to come, too!» Aelin said as she took a step back. Then she turned towards Dorian again, pointing a finger at him. «It was about time you brought your girlfriend around!»

Dorian smirked in answer, and it quickly became clear that Aelin had said it as a taunt, having no idea that as of five days ago, they actually were official, because she went entirely still, then her eyes slowly widened, mouth gaping.

«You ass! You have a girlfriend now and you didn’t tell me?! When did this happen? Give. Me. All. The. Details.» Aelin punctuated those last words by whacking his arm, Dorian twisting away, walking further into the kitchen, to escape the interrogation.

Manon took in the spectacle with a grin, feeling giddy and light, both at being referred to as Dorian’s girlfriend and at the warm welcome. Looking around, she met the eyes of Chaol, Dorian’s other best friend, who gave her a wry smile, then gestured towards Aelin and Dorian. «Good to see you, just help yourself to anything in the fridge while these two wrestle.»

-

They stayed in the kitchen for a while longer, chatting, drinking and laughing together, music blasting through the house as even more people arrived. Aelin had shrugged when Chaol asked, a simple «Aedion» being her only explanation. 

Happy to mostly observe the friendly banter, Manon stuck to Dorian’s side, taking the occasional sip from her second beer. She found herself relaxing more and more, and not only because of the alcohol. 

It was so nice to not worry about anything for once, to just be. No expectations, no demands. Manon needed this after the week she’d had, full of important assignments, tests, and…everything else churning in her mind. She’d promised herself not to think about that tonight, and she would keep that promise.

Instead, she leaned further into Dorian, snorting as he told the story of how him and Aelin had made a bet on how long they could keep a carton of milk hidden in their middle school classroom, and how in the end, it had smelled so bad they needed to have class in the library for three days.

«The best part is, we never even got caught,» Aelin stated proudly, high-fiving Dorian.

«I think putting you two in detention would have caused more trouble than it was worth,» Manon found herself replying, earning a slightly maniacal grin from Aelin. 

Dorian laughed, his whole body shaking against hers. «It would have been absolute chaos.»

«And you two would probably have found some way to pull me into it,» Chaol sighed, which made them all howl.

Soon after, Rowan announced he was going to see if Lorcan had showed up yet.

Aelin grimaced. «Ew, tell him to fuck off, will you?»

He knocked back his drink, then pressed a kiss to Aelin’s lips. «Anything for you, babe.»

Both Dorian and Chaol pretended to gag at the sight, but Aelin just blew Rowan a kiss as he left, then turned her attention back to the rest of the group.

«Anyone wanna play beer pong?»

-

Dorian and Chaol more or less got their asses kicked. Dorian had first tried to team up with Manon, but Aelin had protested, claiming that both him and Chaol sucked, and therefore she wanted to be on Manon’s team. Manon had just smirked, flipping them off over her shoulder as she joined Aelin.

It was a terrifying sight, really, but it was also everything he had wanted for tonight, to see Manon getting along with his friends, having fun, even. And after their massive win, Aelin had dragged her towards the dance floor, claiming they had to celebrate, and that this song was amazing!

Manon had easily followed, laughing the entire time.

«You two seem really good together,» Chaol now said from next to him, nodding towards the two girls.

Dorian smiled, savoring the warm, fuzzy feeling in his body. «Yeah, she is just…»

Everything, he wanted to say, but one look at Chaol told him that his best friend knew exactly what Dorian meant. 

Chaol’s expression softened. «It’s nice to finally see you so happy. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.»

«Thanks, man,» Dorian whispered back, suddenly getting emotional. Because he was happy.

He was so indescribably happy. 

Looking over at Manon only heightened the feeling. She was dancing with Aelin, and he could see that she definitely knew what she was doing, her lithe body moving smoothly in time with the music, but it was also something carefree over her, something relaxed. 

She looked luminous where she moved in the middle of the room, head tipped back in laughter even while she still danced, her hair cascading down her back, glowing in the low light. She was surrounded by dozens of people, but Dorian only saw her.

Then Manon turned around, her eyes locking with his, giving him a bright smile. Dorian wished he had taken a photograph of her in that exact moment, cheeks tinged with pink, golden eyes shining with joy, but he knew if he had, he would have never stopped looking at it.

All Dorian wanted was to close the distance between them and crush his lips against hers, then find somewhere they could be alone. He needed to feel her, taste her. 

Manon must have seen the hunger in his eyes, because her smile fell, replaced by something just as wanting, something intense, all-consuming. She motioned towards the dimly lit, less-crowded hallway, and Dorian gave her a confirming nod. 

He watched as Manon said something to Aelin, then left the room. Dorian made himself count to ten, before he made up some excuse to Chaol as well, then followed her. 

As soon as he stepped away from the crowd, into the more private hallway, Manon was on him, pulling him against her. Their lips met in a hungry kiss, tongue’s clashing, eager to taste one another. Dorian’s hands immediately went to her hair, the long strands like the softest silk against his fingers.

While Dorian slowly backed them towards the wall, Manon’s hands roamed up and down his chest, exploring. She hit the wall with a soft thud, her body flush with his.

Dorian sucked on her lower lip, which made Manon let out a low moan, the sound going straight to Dorian’s hardening cock. 

Needing a moment to breathe, Dorian forced himself to pull away. He braced his arms on either side of her head, both of them panting.

«Is there somewhere we can…» Manon began, chewing on her lip.

 It took everything in Dorian to not lean down and capture that lip between his own teeth. Instead he nodded, leading her towards what he knew was the guest room.

-

Manon needed to be as close to Dorian as possible right now. She had never been so sure of anything in her life.

Holding her hands in his, he led them up the stairs, and into an empty bedroom, door closing behind them and reducing the noise of the party to a low, thrumming heartbeat.

Her own heart was hammering right now, but not from nerves, only from pure need.

So Manon reached up, claiming Dorian’s mouth while pushing him towards the bed in the center of the room with hurried steps.

He sat down, pulling her with him so that her knees rested on either side of him.

Manon could feel his erection pressing against her core, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through her. She rolled her hips once, drawing a groan out of Dorian, who started trailing kisses down her neck.

His hands moved beneath her shirt, slowly lifting it, and Manon found herself panting, «Just so you know, I haven’t done this before.»

He abruptly stopped, Manon mentally cursing herself for opening her stupid mouth. He looked up at her, his hungry expression replaced by that caring gaze she knew so well.

«It’s okay, we don’t have to-»

«I didn’t say I didn’t want to,» Manon interrupted, because she definitely wanted to have sex with him right now. It had been the only thing on her mind as she’d locked eyes with him across the room when she’d been dancing earlier. He’d been smiling from his conversation with Chaol, his deep blue eyes twinkling, his hair perfectly messy. Manon had wanted to brush her fingers through it, see how much more messy she could make it. Had wanted to feel his skin against hers with nothing between them.

Now, though, she felt herself blush under his attentive gaze.

«It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,» Dorian murmured, brushing a featherlight finger over her burning cheek.

Manon knew it was nothing to be embarrassed about. There weren’t that many opportunities to lose your virginity when you spent all your time at home, doing schoolwork, and she was fine with that, but being so unsure of what to do, what to say, was an unusual feeling for her, when she was so used to being in control all the time.

As if reading her thoughts, Dorian said, «If you tell me when something feels good, or when it doesn’t, and I’ll do the same, we’ll be fine. I promise.» He pressed a light kiss to her lips. «And we can stop at any moment if you need to.» Another kiss.

She had never felt so vulnerable before, but that was the thing about Dorian; being vulnerable with him never felt scary or overwhelming, it felt safe, good, even. It made her feel free.

So Manon reached down, taking the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head, before claiming Dorian’s mouth. His hands immediately went to her lace-covered breasts, fingers brushing over her hardening nipples.

Manon moaned in response, urging Dorian to take his own shirt off. The rest of their clothes soon followed, leaving them in only their underwear.

Then Dorian reached behind her to unclasp her bralette, freeing her small breasts. His mouth started trailing down her chest, and right before he reached one of her nipples, he looked up at her, asking, «Is this okay?»

«Uh-huh,» Manon nodded in answer, grinding against him as he finally brought his mouth to that nipple, sucking lightly on the rosy peak. Dorian was fully hard against her now, and Manon rolled her hips, needing more, more, more.

Dorian’s back hit the bed, pulling her with him, then he rolled them over so that he was on top. 

He cupped her breasts with his hands, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they then trailed down, down, stopping right before the line of her panties. Before he could even ask, Manon lifted her hips, urging him to take them off and just touch her already. She was burning from within.

Dorian obeyed with a smirk, then brought a single finger to her center, cursing when he found her to already be soaking wet. He stroked that finger up and down her slit, before he thrust it inside her. 

Manon moaned, rolling her hips in time with his strokes, her own hands palming him through his boxers.

That finger was soon joined by a second, and when Dorian started applying pressure to her clit, Manon quickly found herself cascading towards release.

«Dorian,» she moaned as she came undone on his fingers, her body going taut, then loose, Dorian’s fingers still stroking her through the entire thing. It was all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.

As she came down from her high, Dorian brought his hand up to his mouth, licking it clean. The sight had Manon ready to go again in seconds, and she reached into his boxers, pulling the length of him free.

She’d felt it earlier, that he was big, but her eyes still widened slightly at the sight of him, hard and ready. Dorian groaned as she stroked him once, twice. Meeting his sapphire blue eyes, she said, «I want you. Now.»

Dorian blinked, then leapt off her, discarding his boxers and picking up something from his jeans lying on the floor. Manon let out a low chuckle at his eagerness, but already, she craved the feel of his skin against hers again.

When he returned, Manon saw that the object he’d retrieved was a condom. He made quick work of putting it on, and when he was done, Manon reached up, grabbing his shoulders to pull him back down to her, their mouths meeting in a deep kiss.

She spread her legs to make room for him, and Dorian lined himself up with her core, but then he stopped.

«Are you sure?» Dorian asked one final time, his gaze so intense she couldn’t look away even if she’d wanted to.

«Yes,» Manon breathed, then he so slowly, so gently, pushed into her, all while stroking her clit.

Manon moaned at the sensation, at how he filled her, stretched her open. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t a feeling she was used to.

«You feel so good, you’re so good, Manon» Dorian groaned, and his words made her center throb in pleasure. She had never felt so full. 

He gave her a moment to adjust, but Manon soon found herself needing more friction, so when she wriggled her hips, he pulled out slightly before pushing in again. «Tell me if it hurts, right?» 

Manon nodded in answer, unable to form words right now.

Dorian soon found a slow, steady rhythm, and Manon started rolling her hips to meet his thrusts.

After a few moments, he stilled, though, and when he didn’t move, Manon asked in a breathless voice, «Why did you stop?»

«Just trying to make it last longer,» Dorian panted, burying his head in her neck.

Stroking up and down his back, Manon suggested surprisingly confidently, «Can I be on top?»

«Fuck yes,» Dorian mumbled against her skin, before he slowly pulled out of her and sat up, tugging her with him.

Manon could have cried at feeling so empty after being so full mere seconds ago, but it didn’t take long before her mouth was on Dorian’s again, and she fisted his cock, positioning him against her core.

They both groaned at the sensation as she gradually sank down on him, this position allowing him to go even deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside her.

She started moving up and down in a slow rhythm, one of Dorian’s hands going back to her clit, the other to her hip, helping in guiding her.

The deep strokes paired with the pressure on her clit made that blissful wave rise again, and Manon let her forehead fall to Dorian’s, her eyes landing on where they were joined.

It was the hottest fucking thing she had ever seen, and stroke by stroke, the wave rose, nearing the edge. 

Dorian was shaking beneath her, trying to hold back his own release. «Fuck, Manon.»

«I’m close,» Manon managed to choke out. She sank down on him one final time, right as Dorian pressed his thumb down on her clit, sucking on a sensitive spot on her neck.

She cried out as she came a second time, her whole body tightening. In her pleasure-haze, she was aware of Dorian’s rhythm faltering, him moaning her name against her neck as he joined her in that glorious release.

They clung to each other, staying as close as possible, as the world went quiet. Dorian brought a hand to her face, brushing her hair out of the way, and Manon gave him a soft smile, her body feeling wondrously calm. 

«Are you okay?» Dorian whispered, always caring about her wellbeing.

Manon pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips before she whispered back, «More than okay.»

-

Later, Manon lay cradled in Dorian’s arms, listening to his steady breathing.

She felt almost giddy, even if her eyelids were heavy, moments away from falling asleep.

Tonight had been probably the best night of her life, cliché as it was.

And it had made Manon realize what she’d missed out on, all this time. Not just the partying, but having friends, joking about anything, laughing, feeling so light and free and like she could just be, and no one would fault her for it.

She deserved to feel this way, deserved to be happy. And she deserved to be happy with Dorian. Because how could she go back to her old life, where all that mattered was living up to her grandmother’s impossible expectations, when she had finally learned what it was like to actually live?

Her grandmother could go and fuck herself, Manon decided. She only had a few months left before she could leave that house for good. And until then, she could pretend, she could be good, stay in line, but she refused to give up on all the good things in her life, refused to give up on Dorian.

Taglist: @fireheartfaery @bookishwitchling @gwynethhberdara @darklingswhxore @onfma @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @rainbowcheetah512 @mirubyjane @zoyalovesbooks @wishfulimaginings

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 1

I'm finally back with some more rowaelin! I started this fic in november last year and wrote the first 10k in 24 hours, but from then on this fic was a struggle... Thank you so, so much to @morganofthewildfire for sharing so much of your time to help me with this, this fic would not be here without you 💗 I'm so happy to have finally finished it and can share it on here. I hope you enjoy

CW: past drug abuse, minor character death, violence

7.7k - masterlist - ao3

--

When her agent sends her the script it’s not the first time she’s heard of Rowan Whitethorn, his name is written at the top under the heading director, which itself is under the big red text reading confidential. He’s been at this stuff for a while now, directed a couple of movies that popped up on her radar but that nothing ever came of for her, and he’s well known in the business.

He was even nominated for an Oscar a couple of years ago, and she watched the ceremony with Lysandra, slapping the bills into her outstretched hand when he didn’t win.

His movie had been far too fucking raw for him to have won, she knew that, a tale about a group of kids who witnessed a murder and how it stayed with them and fucked them up into adulthood, but it had stuck with her nonetheless and she’d put her money on him anyway.

She reads the section of script Dorian has sent her, tucked up in bed with a glass of sparkling water and her most comfortable sweater, leaning back into the mountain of expensive pillows she had Elide buy for her and pondering how so much money could end up so uncomfortable, and she knows it’s something special.

She realises she wants this role, almost to an uncomfortable degree, when she’s about five lines in. The heroine is bratty and rash, but serious and pained in a way that makes her completely fleshed out and Aelin wants to play her, wants to be her and embody her in a way that takes her out of the pit she’s in.

She hopes this could be what gets her out of it.

Aedion had tried to pull her out, gods bless him, dropping by her apartment every morning for weeks to check up on her with a coffee in his hand, topped with cream and two sugars the way he knows she likes. Each morning he let himself in with her spare key, the one she gave to him the day she moved in, wanting him to be able to let himself in whenever he wanted but also knowing there was no one else she wanted to give it to.

She would have given it to Sam, would have given everything to Sam, but he’s gone and she’s left sitting here, wondering how to salvage what’s left of her reputation.

What reputation she had even managed to build after starring in one mediocre TV show and a handful of low-budget movies. She knows deep down, and in a way her brain likes to remind her of when she’s at her lowest, that the main reason she isn’t a complete nobody is because she’s Evalin Ashryver’s daughter. Her therapist tells her every time she bothers to go to a session that having a famous mother doesn’t mean she’s a failure and that she has to recognise each of her successes as her own. She nods along every time, but she doesn’t believe her. What has she managed to accomplish truly on her own?

It hasn’t been made public yet that Rowan Whitethorn is involved in the film, she only knows because Chaol wrote the whole script himself and texted her to let her know when he signed on to direct. She’s known Chaol since she was eighteen and took her first solo trip to Rifthold, drawn to the lights of the big city and the almost magnetic pull of the heart of the industry. He’d stumbled upon her in a club she was far too young to be in and had pulled her out, sending her home in a cab that he paid for. Looking back she was grateful for his attempt to avoid what she knew later was an inevitability.

She had cursed him when he told her she’d still have to audition, but she gets it. She hasn’t exactly behaved in a way recently that makes people want to take a chance on her.

Stumbling out of clubs, eyes as wide as saucers and high as a fucking kite isn’t the kind of star casting directors are desperate to hire, but she’s trying to be better. She’s promised those around her that she’ll be better, and she knows that the only reason she hasn’t ended up in rehab is that she has an incredible therapist and a highly persuasive manner of dealing with her friends and family. The only reason they’ve taken that chance on her is time, and she’s grateful for that mercy.

She turns the page, hitting the final line for the third time. Chaol’s script is so good she’s read the few pages she’s been sent over and over.

She only reads scripts in physical copies, takes the time to print them out using her shitty printer that belongs right back in 2008, and she knows it’s wasteful but she allows herself that small luxury of the crisp paper in her hand as she delves into each new world. Her character is in the middle of a teary monologue that she knows exactly how she’d do, the way she’d halt her breath and choke out the words-- it’s not her character. Yet.

The audition is next week, and she’ll work her ass off to make sure she’s ready. Her usual pre-audition ritual involves taking up far too much of Lysandra’s time to practice reading the lines and filming herself time after time, take after take, and watching it back in the unholy hours of night until she’s happy she’s made an improvement.

Or at least that’s how she used to do it, nothing has made her want a role like this in a long while. She worries as she bites her lip, that wanting something this much means she’s getting over Sam. That maybe one day she won’t think of him and hear the pounding in her ears, won’t feel the lightheadedness that comes with a memory of their time together. Worries that if she forgets the sounds of his screams she’s failing him somehow.

She takes another sip of her sparkling water. It’s poured into a wine glass so she can at least pretend she’ll get the relaxation she craves. Alcohol was never one of her vices but she finds it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s unhealthy as far as coping mechanisms go, but she’s been worse so it’s going down as a win.

Chaol told her some guy called Brullo is casting this one. She’s never heard of him, which is kind of rare. She’s been on the periphery of this bubble for pretty much her entire life, following her mother around her own movie sets and sitting on the wooden directors chair when her legs still dangled off the side, but if he’s like any other casting director in Adarlan she knows how to impress him.

When she reaches the last line of the part of the script she’s been sent, her mind wanders again to Rowan Whitethorn.

He’s the kind of director up and coming actors can only hope to one day work with, even though she’s pretty sure he can’t be much more than thirty, he’s built himself to a level where he can be choosy with his projects.

It's a well deserved privilege. Each of his works has stayed with her after watching, his style is gritty and dark, but grounded in a way that leaves her empty each time after finishing.

She wants this, and she buries the guilt she feels for that. Sam would want her to want this. She deserves it, or at least she hopes she can come to.

Dorian books her a mid-morning flight so she doesn’t have to wake too early before the audition, he’s a damn good agent and one she definitely doesn’t deserve with his seemingly endless patience, but she’s continuously grateful for him.

Aelin styles herself for it, ties her hair back and leaves the makeup to a minimum in a way that she hopes shows them she’s right for the part, that she can be the insecure little girl who experiences far too much. She knows she doesn’t have the sheltered innocence the character has, but she’s an actress and this is what she does. Aelin pretends for a living.

He’s also booked her a room in a pretty nice hotel for the night, she’s not sure whether he’s used her meagre acting funds or the funds from the account she knows he mom throws money into every month. It’s an argument she and Evalin have had repeatedly, she wants to stand on her own two feet, but she never protests too hard. The account kept the roof over her head when she was too busy snorting her life away to consider where her next paycheck would come from.

Aelin throws herself backwards into the crisp white bedding on the hotel room bed and takes a deep breath. The only luggage she brought with her is a carry on slung somewhere by the door and the room feels too empty to sit here and wait for the car that’s arriving to take her to the studio in just over an hour. If she sits here and waits the nerves will only build, and then she’ll itch for something to take the edge off.

She picks her phone up to text her cousin.

Jet lag from a 2 hour flight. Who would have thought?

Aelin waits two minutes for a reply, locking and unlocking her phone as she sits there, but one doesn’t come. Aedion’s probably at a training session and not checking his phone. Aelin runs a hand through her hair, careful not to dislodge the pins she placed carefully in it this morning, she needs to stop using him as her crutch. She knows he doesn’t mind, but it’s not right either way.

She needs to get out of this room.

The streets of Rifthold are busy and crammed as she meanders down them, clutching the takeout coffee cup she bought from a vendor with a stall at the side of the road.

People pay her no mind as she walks, the oversized shades hide her eyes that she knows are a dead giveaway for her membership of the Ashryver line. Even if she didn’t wear them, everybody else here wants to be someone, and so far she can still blend in if she tries.

She sends a text to the assistant organising the audition, it’s kind of shitty of her but she keeps it brief because she can’t remember their name, letting them know the car isn’t needed anymore and that she’ll make her own way there. She needs the stroll through the streets to clear her head.

Aelin needs to nail it. She hasn’t felt the twisting of desire so sharp in her stomach for a long time and the only way she’ll manage it is with a clear head.

She alternates her breathing with sips of her coffee, the taste is bitter but she keeps drinking. She pulls her phone out to check the directions to the studio.

Spontaneous isn’t a word Aelin would use to describe herself anymore, any longing to go with the flow died the minute she lost control. It’s safer now to plan, to make sure she won’t lead herself astray.

Brullo is a man in his mid forties, with dashes of grey seasoned through his muddy brown hair, and kind lines around his eyes as he smiles and shakes her hand. Aelin wipes the sweat off her palm on her jeans before clasping her hand in his.

The audition goes about as well as she can hope for, she remembers every line, and the other casting director is fairly natural reading the lines for her to act against. Aelin swallows back her tears after she finishes, trying to keep what dignity she can to end the audition when there’s snot threatening to run down her upper lip. It was a brutal scene to start with, but if she can pull this off she can surely manage the rest.

Brullo’s expression is carefully guarded as she leaves, giving nothing away, but Aelin thinks she did a good job, which is all she could have ever hoped for.

She’s staring at the tiled floor, mulling over Brullo’s parting words, thanks Aelin, our people will be in touch, when she hits something hard and warm.

She’s too busy dissecting those eight words to register exactly who it is with their hands clamped around the top of her arms, steadying her as she stumbles, but she looks up and her gaze meets that of a pair of striking, green eyes.

The man gripping her is easily over a head taller than her, broad and strong enough that she fights back the shiver that wants to roll through her at his touch. He’s staring down at her, the strong planes of his face drawn into a deep frown, with his strangely coloured eyebrows pulled in.

They’re a kind of silver that matches his short cut hair, and it shines in the fluorescent light of the hallway in a way that it can only be natural, but she’s never seen a shade quite like it.

“Sorry,” she manages to stutter out, still thrown from the vulnerability of her audition.

“It’s alright.” His voice burns through the words, his accent rolling in a way that raises hairs down the back of her neck. He flashes her a dangerous grin and she steadies herself. She knows what that look means. She’s used to the male attention, and as much as she hates to acknowledge it, she knows her looks are an element of how she’s got as far as she has. That and her family’s name.

The decision of whether to register in the guild as Aelin Ashryver or Aelin Galathynius was one she had spent hours deliberating over. Did she want the level of independence Galathynius would give her, or the reputation being an Ashryver would bring?

The man releases his grip on her shoulders, but not before running his hands down her arms until he reaches her wrists which he releases with a light squeeze. She takes an almost imperceptible step back, leaning back to breathe some air into her lungs. All she ends up doing is filling her mind with this man’s smell, inviting and intoxicating, a delicious combination of pine trees and snowy winter mornings.

“I don’t usually go around slamming into people like this,” she tells him, letting some of her snark slip through. He’s said two words to her so far but she knows he can take it, and she wants to play.

His grin becomes even more wicked and it truly is a sight to see. This man is built like a god; broad, muscular shoulders stretching the white button up he wears and she spies the dark lines of a tattoo threatening to slip past his collar.

It’s been a couple of months since her last mindless hook-up, and this man would more than do. The mischief glimmering in his eyes tells her he’d know how to make her gasp and beg.

“Slam into me anytime.” His words are a sensual croon and her mouth drops open slightly, but he sidesteps her before she can manage to speak again, nodding towards the door she’s come through. “Good luck with whatever you were here for.”

With that he’s gone, leaving her to turn and watch the way his grey slacks pull against his thighs as he walks away from her.

Aelin tries not to think too much about the outcome of the audition, and flies back to Orynth in economy class with a sleep mask tucked over her eyes lest she be recognised when all she wants to do is curl up in bed and be alone for a bit. That or get fucking wasted, and she can’t do that.

She tries far too hard to forget about the man from the hallway, forget about the way his voice had rumbled deep in her chest and the tug in her belly that his words had sent through her.

She begs Elide to come to a bar with her, and she agrees. Aelin needs to pay her more, maybe change her title from publicist to publicist-come-part-time-therapist-and-life-saver. Aelin’s not sure she has the budget for that really.

Elide would smack her if she knew Aelin’s thoughts. Would scold her for looking at Elide just like an employee as if they weren’t childhood friends and Elide hadn’t been there holding her hand through the whole Sam thing. As if she, Lysandra and Aedion hadn’t been her only reason for being here now.

A bar might be a risk, but she can sip her sparkling water while she browses the small selection of men that Orynth has to offer.

She enjoys the easy conversation she has with Elide, chatting about what their friends have been up to, even though most of them are mainly Elide’s friends at this point. After Sam she stopped speaking to everyone but those who were necessary. She couldn’t manage any more than that.

“You should come with us next time,” Elide is saying as she sips her own lemonade. Aelin knows Elide would normally choose a crisp glass of white wine over a lemonade and her sobriety solidarity touches her heart.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, noncommittal.

The look Elide wears tells her she’s debating pushing the issue for the millionth time against the risk that Aelin would pull back again. She hates that she does this to her friends so she sighs.

“Text me next time,” she tries. “I’ll see if I’m free.”

Elide offers her a thankful smile, and Aelin returns it, trying to tell herself this is what she needs and that she shouldn’t just stay locked up thinking about Sam.

There’s a dark haired guy at the bar catching her eye, his jeans are far too tight and his shirt is ridiculous, but she can see the body beneath and his face is striking. Elide notices her stare and smirks.

She likely knows why Aelin invited her out tonight, but doesn’t mind. Lorcan’s probably waiting for her at the home they share, waiting for her to come back so they can be in love. Aelin hates the bastard, except she doesn’t. She introduced her friend to the tall, dark and grouchy hockey player at the wrap party for the shit teen movie she did a couple of years back, and she’s big enough to admit she wants what they have.

She had what they have.

What’s left in her glass slips down her throat easily in one mouthful and she promises to text Elide tomorrow before slipping out of the booth and over to the guy at the bar.

“You going to just stare at me all night?” She asks with a sly smile. “Or did you plan on doing something about it at some point?”

His smile makes him look even more attractive.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to make the first move, a beautiful girl like you can be intimidating.”

It’s a shit line and she rolls her eyes, but tugs him into a cab back to her place anyway.

“Please.” Her voice shakes as she begs. “Please don’t do this.”

The man in front of them scoffs and Sam squeezes her hand, his palm rough against her own.

“Aelin, baby. It’s okay, just do what he says.”

He lets go of her hand and turns back to the guy in front of them. His face is covered by a black mask, only two slits show her the dark brown of his eyes. She can barely look away from the knife he holds out in front of himself, it’s pointed at Sam but that doesn’t make her feel any better, it makes her feel worse in fact.

“Your wallet,” the guy demands.

Tears are rolling down her cheeks, fat and hot, as she fishes around in her bag for her purse.

“Just dump the whole thing,” the guy growls, irritated, but she’s pretty sure she’s going into shock and she can’t focus. Can’t breathe.

Sam’s voice is steady by her side as he throws his own wallet onto the street in front of them.

“Alright, man. We’re doing everything you say.”

“Hands up.” The mugger’s voice is sharp. “Don’t fucking move.”

She raises her arms straight in the air, trying to control the way her hands are shaking and the attacker ducks down to grab their things.

She lets out a tiny whimper and feels Sam spin to her, his eyes begging her to trust him. No, she shakes her head.

“I said don’t fucking move,” the guy yells and lunges for Sam.

His scream cuts the night air and she whirls, hands dropping into the air between them as he drops to the ground. The mugger takes off, sprinting down the empty street and she falls to her knees by Sam’s side.

In the dark, the pool spilling out across the floor by Sam’s side just looks black, but she knows that really it’s red. She’s not stupid. His face is twisted in pain and her hands flutter around his torso before she manages to pull back the flap of his jacket.

There’s a hole in his white t-shirt and now her jeans are wet where she kneels.

She needs her phone, needs to call someone who can make this all better, but her phone is gone.

She presses her hands against his side and his eyes shutter closed as he gasps. His breathing is stuttered and uneven.

“Sam. Sam, no,” she cries. “I’ll get help. You’re okay.”

“Aelin.” He raises a hand to press against her cheek, and the blood on it is sticky and warm.

“No, Sam. No, stay with me.”

The scream that tears through her throat will hurt tomorrow but now she barely feels it. “HELP!”

His breathing becomes much quicker as she presses on his side and screams again.

She knows abstractly that she’s crying, tears and snot streaming down her face as she desperately presses her hands against his side.

There’s a strong arm around her waist, tugging her back and away from Sam, and she screams one word over and over.

“No, no, no, no.”

There are people here now, leaning over Sam, leaning over his body.

“NO.”

Aelin gasps as she launches up in her bed. The sheets are stuck to her clammy skin and her head flies to the side. The guy is gone, the side of the bed he occupied when she fell asleep now cold. Good.

She lives it over and over in her dreams, sees the dark street more often than not, feels the phantom warmth of his blood down her legs. Wakes screaming herself hoarse just as she did that night. She doesn’t normally let people stay the night. Even when Aedion tried for the first few weeks after the fact, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t turn her brain off for even a second. Every time she closed her eyes she was back on that street, begging and pleading for him to open his eyes.

She grasps at her side for the switch of her bedside lamp and flicks it on. Her room is cold and empty and she hasn’t had it in her to decorate past the basics so it’s plain and impersonal when she looks around, trying to calm her breathing.

She checks the time. 6:25am. Not bad, she must have managed about six hours of sleep last night, and it’s more than she usually gets.

There're a few texts waiting in her inbox, including one from Elide, and she expects it to be a request to let her know that she got home safe but it’s not.

Call me as soon as you wake up.

Sent at 6:02am. Elide is a chronic overworker, no matter how much Aelin begs her to stick to a 9 to 5 schedule, but she couldn't imagine her friend any other way. The smiling emoji at the end of the text lets her know it’s nothing she needs to panic about, so she takes a moment to scroll through her other messages. It’s unusual for her to wake up to so many.

She clicks on her conversation with Dorian, the only message she can see, his most recent one, just says Aelin. He has sent her nine messages while she slept, and she scrolls up to reach the first one.

Aelin, you did it. You booked the Rowan Whitethorn movie.

Her heart pounds in her chest, running into overdrive as she processes the words on her screen.

She got the part. She fucking did it.

This is one of those moments she knows she’ll remember.

Dorian has forwarded over a number of contracts and official things but she ignores them in favour of dialling Elide’s number.

“Aelin!” Her friend’s voice is breathy when she answers. “Congratulations, I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks, El.” A pause where she takes a deep breath in. “I can’t believe it.”

She falls back onto her mattress, pressing a fist to her lips as she smiles, eyes closed, almost giddy as she listens to her friend talk.

“They’re putting a press release out today at 12:30, announcing you and the male lead, who I haven’t found out yet but I will.”

“Oh my gods,” she sighs, covering her eyes with a clammy hand.

“I know,” Elide laughs.

She allows herself one tear as she stares up at the white of her ceiling.

This is big, she can feel it.

Later her phone buzzes as Elide sends her links to two different articles breaking the news.

Fenrys Moonbeam and Aelin Ashryver to star in new Chaol Westfall drama. More to follow.

Rowan Whitethorn signs on to direct The Crescent City, the latest project from Chaol Westfall (Throne of Glass, The King’s Hand & more).

She presses the phone to her chest as she lets out a sigh of relief.

It all moves pretty quickly from that point.

She’s on a plane back to Rifthold the next day and Chaol has sent over the whole script for her to read on the plane, bypassing Dorian completely even though that’s how it normally goes and she knows the two are like brothers.

Chaol was the one to introduce her to Dorian, and they kind of took her under their showbiz wings in the first few years she began to get really serious about acting.

They gave her the inside scoop, having been in the industry for a few more years than her. Chaol writing and making movies and Dorian doing all the background stuff like contracts and negotiations and exposure. They took her to their wrap parties that everyone knows are just networking events and introduced her to some of the big names in the industry without so much as batting an eyelid, and she knows she owes them a lot.

The script is phenomenal, and she has to try and hide the tears that form when she reaches the end, it probably wouldn’t be the best start to the project, being photographed crying on the plane on the way to start shooting. It really is some of Chaol’s best work, and she sends him a text when she lands that says fuck you, I hate it, but his reply lets her know he knows she’s joking.

It tells the story of her character, Feyre, and how she’s dragged into selling drugs to pay for her mom’s hospital bills. Along the way she meets Fenrys Moonbeam’s character, Rhysand, the glowering bad-boy who’s well established in the gang and together they see some shit and do some shit but manage to get out together. The topics are kind of cliché and over done, but Chaol has managed to add a level of originality to it that makes it really special.

It’s heavier on the romance than Rowan Whitethorn’s previous projects, but it’s gritty enough that she can see why he’s signed on. It’s going to be hard, she knows this, and it will really push her to her limits trying to embody the range of emotions her character goes through. But she wants it, and she will make her performance incredible if it fucking kills her.

There’s a niggling part of her brain that reminds her that she’s surrounded by some big names on this project, names that are big for a reason, and she can’t let them hiring her be a mistake.

She sends Chaol a follow up text, wtf are these names btw???

He ignores her.

When she’s in the car taking her to the apartment the studio is renting out for her while they film she decides to take a little trip through Instagram and look up her new co-star. Fenrys is a household name by now, a couple of years in after his debut, but it can’t hurt to know a little more about her leading man.

f.moonbeam01 comes up as the first option when the types the three letters f e n into the search bar and he has over eleven million followers.

Shit.

Not that she needs a reminder but it slaps her in the face that this is actually big. Aelin only has a few thousand followers herself and Elide has already told her to prepare herself for that to rise.

His Instagram is a mixture of mostly photos of himself, some selfies and some professional shots, and he’s obviously gorgeous. His deep brown complexion playing well against his golden curls with a straight strong nose and flawless white teeth. He’s definitely leading man material, and she can tell just how charming his grin is even through a screen.

There are also promo pictures for all the movies he’s involved in at the moment, there are at least three projects he has coming out this year. Damn.

His most recent picture is a screenshot of the article announcing their casting, and he’s actually tagged her in the photo along with Rowan himself. She hasn’t seen the tag until now, it’s normally Elide’s job as her publicist to tackle the professional side to her social media, but there’s 6.4 million likes on the photo.

Again, shit.

She can’t help herself from clicking onto Rowan’s account, rowanwhitethorn is a pretty simple handle. He only has 27 posts, most of them are behind the scenes shots from projects, one with his classic director’s chair that has his surname printed across the back in thick white lettering, and a few pictures of different cameras and pieces of equipment.

There’s only one picture of him on there, and it’s from 2017. He has his back to the camera and the sunset behind him lends a shadow that covers all of his features. Very artsy she muses to herself as she double taps the screen to like it, he probably won’t see anyway, the notification will probably get lost in the ones his account no doubt gets from his 2 million followers. The only thing she can gather from the photo about his physical appearance is that he has pretty broad shoulders.

She’s tempted to google him, wanting to know what he looks like, but she feels a bit too much like a stalker, and she knows she’ll meet him in a couple of days anyway so she leaves it and pulls up her emails to reply to the seemingly endless list of forms she has to fill out and send back to Dorian.

The apartment she’s living in for the next few months is modern and airy, with clean lines and bright decor. Aelin likes it, and while it’s not hers in the same way as her home back in Orynth, it’s far better than a hotel room that lower budget movies tend to shove actors in. Another reminder that this time is different, there’s a bigger budget than she’s used to, bigger names than she’s used to, and she can’t fuck this up. There’s more eyes on her now than ever before.

She sends Elide a picture of her new bedroom and her friend just replies with a bunch of exclamation marks and she forwards the picture across to Lysandra too. Aelin wanders through to the kitchen, wondering if anyone bothered to stock the kitchen, not that she can’t do groceries herself, it would just be nice. She’s delighted to find a fridge full of fresh produce and gets about making herself a dish of pasta and veggies.

She tucks herself in front of the big television, munching away as she watches some National Geographic documentary about whales and it helps to take her mind off the fact that this is her last night of peace for a while. She’s trying not to get too in her head about it, there’s a fine line between knowing it’s a big deal and freaking the fuck out about it, and she needs to stay on the right side of that line, needs to keep herself in check.

If she allows herself a moment to relax, a moment to sink into the situation and bask in the opportunity; she’s excited.

And depending on how well this movie does, she knows she may not have another night like this one. Somehow the thought doesn’t seem to scare her.

Lysandra calls her as she’s waiting for the car to arrive to take her to the studio, it's day one of their table read today and she’s tired. She spent all of last night tossing and turning, unable to shut her mind off and panicking over every single detail of how this day could go.

She’s lucky it’s only a table read, she’s not sure even a professional make-up artist would be able to cover the dark circles under her eyes.

“Hello, you.” Lysandra’s voice is cheery through the phone and Aelin smiles, she’s really missed Lysandra and hasn’t taken nearly enough time to seek her out during her recent whirlwind. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

They had texted since the news dropped, but with Lysandra shooting a campaign for a brand she can’t remember somewhere over in the Southern Continent they haven’t had time yet for a call.

“Thanks Lys,” she says as she gets into the back of the sleek black car that the studio has sent for her, tucking her small black backpack onto the seat next to her. It’s all she can use at this point, any other bag just makes her think of that night.

“How’s it going? Have you met everyone yet?”

Lysandra runs in these circles of A list celebrities and Aelin wouldn't be surprised if she already knew Fenrys. She met Lysandra when they were teens; years before her first show for Victoria’s Secret, years before she was walking for people like Gucci and Prada, and they stayed close when they were both living off cheap ramen and thin strands of hope. Aelin likes to tease her about hanging with a lowly C-lister like herself but Lysandra is always quick to quip that she’s maybe a G-lister at a push.

That could change.

“I haven’t met anyone so far, but I’m literally on my way to meet everyone now.”

“That’s exciting, you’ll have to let me know if Fenrys Moonbeam is really that good looking in person.”

“So you don’t already know him?” she asks, teasing. Maybe Lysandra doesn’t know quite everyone.

“Oh you know, apart from every week-end when we hook-up, we’re not really that good friends.”

Aelin laughs, mostly to herself, knowing that somewhere out there that probably is a story that’s cropped up in some cheap tabloid. She knows there’s probably some dating rumours about herself and Fenrys already even though she’s still yet to meet him. It’s just how it is, she knows this, has known this since she was old enough to read the stories about her parents’ messy divorce.

“What does Aedion have to say about that, hm?”

“Oh, he joins us obviously!” Lysandra’s laugh is bright and loud through the grainy speaker.

No-one is more desperate for Aedion to propose to Lysandra than Aelin, not even the magazines, desperate for a scoop of the golden couple, quarterback for the Rifthold Ravens and the world-famous supermodel.

“I think I’ve heard enough, thanks,” Aelin laughs as the car pulls through security checks at the studio. “Lys, I have to go, I’ve just got to the studio.”

“Okay, good luck! Promise you’ll call me later though and let me know how it goes.”

She needs to make sure she puts aside a minute to catch up properly with Lysandra, she’s been slacking recently and she knows her friend misses her. She misses Lysandra too, and Aedion. Maybe she’ll stay with them for a couple of days when she gets a break from filming, she can probably see them far more often now that she’s in Rifthold too.

“I promise,” she agrees. “Tell Aedion to make sure he spoils you from me.”

Lysandra snorts, “Oh he does, I’ll pass it along anyway though.”

“Means a lot. Love you, got to go.”

Lysandra’s returning love you is sincere, but she cuts off the phone as the car comes to a stop outside the plain brick building.

She readies herself in the back of the car, pulling down a deep breath to center herself, she can do this.

The girl leading her to the room doesn’t speak other than to tell Aelin to follow right this way, and she’s grateful, she’s not sure she could speak right now without vomiting all over the dated linoleum flooring.

She needs to get a grip, and fight the urge for a hit that strikes her when she’s nervous like this. It could make her fears disappear, at least for a moment before they all came crashing back down ten-times worse the minute the high faded. There is a reason she packed that shit in, and she knows her nerves will pass. It’s been a while since she’s done any of this, her last movie read was pre-Sam and no matter how hard she tries to push it down, there’s a lot of pressure on her for this to go well.

The girl pauses outside an unassuming white door and holds a hand out to gesture for Aelin to go in. She rolls her shoulders back, holding her head high before she steps into the room. If all else fails she’s still Evalin Ashryver’s daughter and to some people that is something to be proud of.

Fenrys Moonbeam is the first person to catch her eye when she steps into the room, and it seems he’s done some stalking too because he ends his conversation by the food table with some others she doesn’t recognise and bounds straight over to her with a grin.

“Aelin Ashryver,” he says, his voice deep and smooth like velvet. “I’ve heard of you. It’s a pleasure.”

“You have?” She’s both surprised and not at the same time as she holds a hand out for him to shake.

He bypasses the hand she holds out and tugs her into his chest, wrapping both arms around her and knocking her backpack off her shoulder.

“I have,” he says as he bends down to pick her bag back up. “Sorry about that.”

She shakes her head. She needs to stop acting like a bewildered school girl meeting the Queen, she needs to remember that she has second billing for this movie thanks to Dorian.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aelin finds a smile and plasters it on.

Someone calls for everyone to take their seats and she notices the name placards spaced out in front of each chair. She locates her own and it's surreal to see her name printed there, Aelin Ashryver, between Fenrys and another actress playing her sister called Manon Blackbeak. She’s even less known than Aelin, and she only feels slightly guilty for how much that relaxes her.

Aelin knows how this goes down, they sit opposite the production team, the director and all the executive producers and she realises that she’s opposite the sign that reads Rowan Whitethorn.

She slides into her seat, Fenrys and Manon chatting over her head as she does, and she spots a male slipping into the chair opposite her. He’s wearing a slim-fit forest green henley and dark jeans, his shoulders are just as broad as they were in his Instagram photo and here there’s no shadow across his handsome features.

She can’t deny that he’s attractive, she knew it the first time she saw him. Her stare locks onto the man from the hallway after her audition and he smirks at her as if they have a secret. And maybe they do, but now she’s realising that he’s her boss, and a little voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Elide is whispering to her that opportunities like this don’t come around everyday.

She owes it to Sam and she owes it to herself not to fuck this up, but the look that Rowan Whitethorn is sending her across the table makes her think she could risk it all.

It takes them three hours to run through it in full, and she’s happy to see she’s not the only one with a tear in her eye at the end. Rowan doesn’t cry, but he hasn’t looked at her since before they started and each time she read a line she avoided looking at him. She knows there were a couple of times where he nodded along with her expression of the lines. She’s ignoring it.

This is what she lives to do, they’re not even filming yet and she feels like she’s right where she needs to be. It’s cliche but she breathes easier when she acts, the air feels lighter when she takes on a new personality and feels all the things she’s told to feel.

It takes away the restlessness she feels when it’s all just down to her, being told how to feel is far easier.

Her therapist tells her she has both anxiety and PTSD, but she feels like giving it a name doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. She knows a diagnosis can be a relief for some, but to Aelin, what she feels is far too messy to be summed up in four letters. Her life has simply become the before, and the after, even though what each of those contains is a complete fucking shit show.

There are two Aelins; pre that night and post that night.

The Aelin from before that night doesn’t exist anywhere but in her own memory.

Once the run through is completed and basic notices are given by the producers, things like call sheet distributions and health and safety, the occupants of the room begin to mingle. She sees him make a beeline for her, and she swallows. She’s not ready for this.

“You look surprised to see me.” His voice is as hot as it was the last time she saw him, the slight rasp in his throat and his accent. Gods, the accent.

“You don’t look too surprised to see me.” She tilts her head at him because she feels way thrown off, like he has all the power here. Which he does. But like, she can play it cool. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? “Maybe had a little google search?”

He shakes his head at her, biting his lip kind of like he wants to laugh, and she bristles. She needs to level the playing field.

“Says you.” He’s definitely laughing now. “I saw you liked my photo last night.”

“What about it?” She shrugs, hoping her acting skills are up to it. He only tilts his head to the side as he takes her in.

“Do you think I didn’t know who you were in the corridor? I’m the director.” And fuck him for saying it like that, full of an easy confidence that in any other situation would have had heat pooling in the floor of her stomach. “Brullo discussed the casting with me.”

Right. Of course.

She’s not sure what to say next. Honestly? She kind of wants to flirt with him, but fuck.

Instead she hums a laugh, not really caring whether he thinks it’s sincere or not, and looks absentmindedly around the room instead of back up at him. He reaches a hand out to brush his fingers down her arm, looping them round the bones of her wrist and squeezing slightly like he did the last time before letting go. Her eyes snap back to his.

“Just between you and me?” he asks and the smile he wears is far too hot for her to deal with right now. “I think we made a good choice.”

“Thanks,” she says, but it’s a little too breathy. A little too dazed for having spent such a short amount of time in his presence. She’s aware that she needs to be careful, they are very much not alone in this room right now, and she doesn’t need to start any rumours that would destroy her chances of escaping this without a scandal.

She’s here to do a job, and she’s going to do it well. She doesn’t need any distractions.

He leaves her soon after that, and his parting remark of “have a good first day, Aelin” sticks with her, and she tries not to replay the way his voice had wrapped around her name.

Manon Blackbeak is watching them from across the room, and she arches one perfectly shaped eyebrow at Aelin. She ignores her; let her think what she wants, she’s surely professional enough not to gossip to any press, and stomps over to where Fenrys is chatting with one of the producers. It seems like a good enough place to start.

[tomtenadia]

For the love of a kingdom - 33

Here we go with another chapter. Two more plus the epilogue. And let’s get ready for the fluff.

It was four days later when Rowan woke up with a loud gasp and a sense of confusion. The last thing he remembered was Aelin’s tower of fire and their magic attacking Maeve’s and then an explosion so strong to take the mountain down. While still connected to Aelin he had sent all the wind he could still summon and had tried to shield them. And then darkness.

He groaned, his body aching from his burnout.

His head turned slightly and at his side he saw Aelin still deep asleep. He rolled over and his arm draped over her body.  He inhaled her scent and relaxed when he sensed she was fine. They were fine. Rowan buried his face in the crook of her neck while his hand travelled to her stomach and he let out a deep sigh of pure pleasure.

He basked in the sensation of her chest’s rhythmic movement and the sound of her breathing. She was alive.

“We did it…” he whispered softly while his free hand caressed her hair “Get better soon, then we can finally start our life together.”

He sighed content and fell asleep once more while holding his family in his arms.

*

He woke again no longer after and the light outside had gone and it was night. He kissed Aelin and got up, his body protesting loudly. He felt like a wreck. Rowan walked to the closet and grabbed a shirt. His wardrobe was limited but Aelin had promised that as soon as it was possible she was going to give him a lot of  nice shirts and trousers and also a few fancy dresses for events. 

He worn the item of clothing and barefoot he left the room and went to find everyone else.

Using his fae hearing Rowan followed the voices and reached the living room and as suspected a few of his friends were gathered there. Fenrys was sprawled on the sofa sipping tea, Gavriel was at his side reading a book. Lorcan was on the other sofa with Elide, Aedion was sitting on the carpet with Lys and Aidan and were watching the little boy crawl around. Vaughan and Connall were there too and the healer and Dorian completed the group.

At his entrance the group fell silent.

“Oh, the king has finally decided to join us,” joked Fenrys “had a nice nap, your highness?”

Rowan sat heavily at his friend’s side and sighed. He felt exhausted.

“How are you feeling?” The question had come from Yrene.

“I don’t think I ever felt this knackered.”

“You had burnout, you idiot,” added Lorcan and Elide slapped him on the shoulder “Aidan is here.”

“Idiot is not a bad word.”

Lysandra glared at him.

Yrene stood and disappeared and when she came back she was carrying a vial and went to Rowan “drink this, it will help with energy and to speed up the last part of the healing process.”

The warrior thanked her and drank the medicine.

“We are all very curious to hear what happened. When we found you one side of the mountain had collapsed on you and Maeve was dead and you two were… well… heavily asleep.”

He paused and gathered his memories and retold the tale of the battle “and then at the end we finally used the carranam bond and it was…” he paused, still thinking in amazement at the power that had surged from both “It was like nothing I ever saw.” He explained about Aelin’s sword, his gift and how she had infused it with some of her power “and while we were still connected she gave her the final she impaled Maeve and the power exploded in a tower of fire. Maeve’s dark power tried one last attack but the carranam exploded and that’s the last I remember.”

“Show off,” joked Dorian while sipping his tea.

“When we found you we had to dig through half of the mountain,” growled Connall “while facing a big blizzard that you were causing, by the way.”

Rowan stared at them with curiosity.

“One last minute act of protection, for Aelin.”

He looked at the healer and she nodded “it worked. She has few fractures, bruises and cuts but nothing I could not heal. They are both safe.”

Rowan glared at her. They hadn’t told anyone yet.

“Oh shit.”

Aidan looked at the woman “ ‘it”

“Uh-oh, someone is in trouble,” Elide was giggling happily.

“I am so sorry.”

Lysandra burst out laughing “it was bound to happen, just be careful, all of you…” she flicked the finger at the group and grabbed her son “that is a bad word.” He stared at his mom and smiled and then hugged her at her neck.

“No digressing,” shouted Elide “what does that mean? Is Aelin pregnant?”

Rowan nodded “I found out a while ago, but we decided not to tell anyone given all of that was happening.”

Gavriel stood and went to pat his shoulder quite hard “my friend this is the most wonderful news.”

Rowan grinned “we are both very excited.”

The group started celebrating hard and Rowan just stared at them in silence enjoying that sense of happiness after what felt a lifetime of pain. He just needed Aelin to wake up again and be part of of that. All she had worked for. The better world she had promised him was finally happening.

Yrene must have noticed his sad stare and joined him “she is fine, I checked her thoroughly. The baby is well too. It seems like she has used more power than you and needs a bit more of beauty sleep.”

Rowan grabbed the healer’s hand “thank you, for everything. And not just now,” his green eyes on her “at the beginning, for making me understand. You and Emrys both. I am glad I listened. Even if it took me a while.”

The woman smiled and left and he was alone once more. In silence he stared at the strange set of allies in front of him. Aedion was the general in charge of arrest him and his friends now he was… a fantastic ally and they were finally warming up to each other. The bane had started working with the fae and train together and Rowan was positive that they were becoming an even more feared army. Then there was the king. Adarlan had been his enemy just as much as Aelin had been. Two targets to destroy and make them pay. The young Adarlan king though, had proved to be a nice human being and far better than his father. Rowan knew that if Orynth was recovering already was thanks to him. His life had changed so much in less than a year, all of his beliefs and ideologies had been destroyed. All of a sudden his life had a purpose once more and this time it was one worth fighting for.

In turn everyone went to him and Lorcan was the last to sit at his side.

“So, you and Elide, eh? Is it serious?”

Lorcan rolled his eyes “she is worth it.”

Rowan’s head whipped at his friend’s comment. Coming from Lorcan it was the equivalent of a love declaration and a proposal.

“She is amazing, okay?” He whispered almost embarrassed “so yeah, I am considering things…”

“As in…”

Lorcan was silent for a moment “maybe come to live with me for starters.”

“Lor, your place is a hole and not fit for a woman to live in and not two people.”

He folded his arms at his chest “I am not living at the castle any longer than I need to.”

“Wait a bit and get a cottage with her? Maybe in the woods?” I would offer you my place but Gavriel called dibs on it a while ago already.”

“Fine.” 

“Lorcan is settling down.” Rowan burst out laughing and everyone turned to him.

“Says the one who is becoming a father.”

Rowan smiled softly “and I have no regrets.”

“Looks like Mala likes you a lot.”

A chuckle left Rowan “oh well, you at least did manage not to piss of Hellas too much.”

The two warriors sat and kept chatting a little longer until Rowan felt a tug in the bond with Aelin. He was busy talking with Aedion when it happened. He pretended to be still tired and Yrene supported his decision to go and rest a bit more. As soon as he was out of the big room he started running to her, no matter that he still had too little energy for that.

Rowan stopped in front of the chambers’ door and breathed in. He was drained. He hated feeling that weak.

He pushed the door open, cleared the antechamber and went straight for the bedroom.

Aelin was laying on her side and her eyes were open and staring at him. Blue and beautiful and a faint smile on her lips.

In a daze he moved to her and sat on the bed, and stooped for a kiss, she was there, she was real and alive.

“Rowan…” her voice was hoarse and weak.

“I am here, fireheart.”

“Battle….”

He kissed her head “we won. Maeve is gone. Everyone is safe.”

He saw his mate relax and grabbed her hand “we are all fine. You are just exhausted, used too much magic.”

Aelin lifted her hand shakily and tried to conjure fire but failed. Panic started to rise, until a timid flame appeared. It felt strange, though. Her power felt wrong and limited.

She looked at him in desperation.

“Your well is still recharging, give it time.”

Aelin shook her head frantically “it’s gone. This is it Rowan, this is all my power.”

He grabbed her face in his hands “It’s okay,” his hand twinned in hers and their powers danced as they used to “see? It still works. You are still my carranam.” 

Aelin stared at the phenomenon and relaxed, until memories of the battle came back. And the truth. The horrible confession that Maeve had made to her about Rowan and his wife. She felt sick all of a sudden. A part of her wanted to shield him from that pain, but that was a confession that he had to hear, no matter how painful.

“Ro…” her blue eyes met his “I have to tell you something…”

At the pain in her voice he stiffened.

Aelin sat up and this time it was her turn to grab his hand in support “Maeve confessed something to me when you were unconscious.”

His eyes turned dark.

Aelin grabbed his face and kissed him “I am so sorry, my love,” her hand then brushing his hair “Maeve was jealous of you marrying Lyria and then escaping with her.” She hated the pain in his eyes and the realisation “She sent some of her men to Adarlan and told them to join the army and once in Terrasen their only job was to kill Lyria.”

She felt his pain resonate with hers. Her arms folded around his still rigid body “I am so sorry.”

He remained silent and all Aelin could do was to offer him support and space to grieve.

It was a good half an hour later when she felt his arms hug her back albeit lightly “she will not hurt anyone ever again.”

“No, mo chridhe, she never will.”

Rowan pulled back and stared at her and Aelin laughed at his expression “You really thought I could not speak the old language? I can’t read it but I understand it and speak it a bit.”

He blushed savagely and it was the cutest thing she ever saw “Yes, I understood all the lovely insults you threw at me.”

Rowan finally managed to let out a laugh and Aelin relaxed. He will be fine. They had both a lot of healing to do in the process but now they had each other.

“You were really a foul mouthed rebel.”

Rowan grinned and kissed her deeply “Tha gaol agam ort.”

“That is not what you said the first time.”

He smiled against her lips “I will never utter those words to you ever again.”

She pulled back and searched his eyes “Ro…”

“I am fine. I grieved a long time ago. We killed Maeve for good. It’s time I let the past behind once and for all. I have you now.”

Aelin finally relaxed and leaned against him and sighed happily at the feel of his strong arms envelope her “So, mr rebel, do you think we are having a boy or a girl?”

Rowan finally climbed in bed with her lay at her side and pulled her on top of him “definitely a boy.”

Aelin looked at him and scoffed “sure thing, warrior.”

“You think it’s a girl.”

“I know, it’s a girl. I am her mother. I know these things.”

Rowan laughed and pushed her off him playfully and a second later he was caging her head with his arms and kissing her with deep desire.

“You can be foul mouthed to me in a way that I would enjoy…”

Rowan growled and soon after his name on Aelin’s lips was the only sound in the room.

TAGS:

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

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-a-Long, Queen of Shadows, day 12

Ch77

magical hand holding GOD THIS IS LIKE AN INTENSE ANIME SAILOR MOON MOMENT

you two!!!! You are so powerful and full of friendship!!!!!

“Rowan shifted, his leg flashing in agony as he exchanged his limbs for wings and talons. He loosed a cry, shrill and raging. A white-tailed hawk soared out of the small opening, past Aedion.”

Y’know, I just realized. Now that magic is back, Aedion probably has another form, too!

I want someone to bite him on the neck and teach him how to shift

What form will he take! He was already deemed a “wolf” but since daddy is a mountain cat, perhaps he’ll be a cat, too?

Ch78

Um ok

That’s a TWIST

So do I believe it, or is this a cunning last-ditch effort to try and get mercy from the good guys?

I gave a hard time believing that the All-Powerful Dark Lord would be satisfied instilling a minion as the King of Adarlan just to be a Duke but

Duke Perrington IS a pretty despicable person so, maybe this is true?

How odd, how very odd.

I say let’s kill him anyway to be safe

“Chaol is alive,” the king murmured through his emaciated hands

(HAHA YEAH HELL YEAH)

(you can’t kill him he’s filled with the spirit of pure, totally platonic love)

(DORIAN)

(GO GET YOUR MAN)

(THE TIME HAS COME)(THE TIME TO HUG AND KISS)

Ch79

“The scent of pine and snow hit her, and she realized how they had survived the fall.” Rowan saved them! And Dorian and Chaol are together again!

LOVE

This is so utterly amazing ahhh my heart

I love this

Can we all please hug and kiss now! And roll around in the grass, and feel joy and laughter and friendship!

Please!

"If you loot, if you riot, if you cause one lick of trouble," she said, looking a few in the eye, "I will find you, and I will burn you to ash." She lifted a hand, and flames danced at her fingertips. "If you revolt against your new king, if you try to take his castle, then this wall"-she gestured with her burning hand-"will turn to molten glass and flood your streets, your homes, your throats."

Chill out, queen!

They just lost one tyrant, lol, no need to come at them with such ferocity, RELAX

“She was barely inside the oak doors before she collapsed to her knees and wept.”

Baby

Please don’t cry

I love you! Everyone loves you!

Look what you’ve DONE today. Look at all that you’ve achieved. It was a miracle, YOU are a miracle, and now!

Now!

You need to rest; so you will be ready for the shower of love and joy that’s coming your way.

Ch80

(SJM: do you feel a growing spark of hope in your heart?

Me: Yeah! Yeah, I finally do! Thank you!

SJM: *writes about Elide in eminent danger*

Me: why?)

YEAH that’s it MANON go save your GIRL

(My whole heart) (I am shipping them so hard)

(I know I’m fucking insane but in this moment it feels real)

Ch81

“And Manon’s golden eyes glowed as if they were living embers as she looked at the two guards gripping Elide. As she beheld the disheveled robe.”

I AM SO LOVE WITH MANON

GOD

SHE’S SO HOT

THE WAY SHE CAME FOR HER

THE WAY SHE BRUTALLY KILLED THOSE MEN

MANON

YOU ARE MY LESBIAN FANTASY, PLEASE

PLEASE

THIS JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER

Ch82

Omg Kaltain. 😭

Baby!

Baby, no!

I have hated watching you suffer. I have hated every minute of it. I love you for being willing to sacrifice yourself, but you don’t deserve to end your story here. I just want to feel happiness, oh honey. I want you to come with them!

“Kaltain unleashed the last of her shadowfire, tipping her face to the ceiling, toward a sky she’d never see again.”

😭😭😭

SHE JUST WANTED TO SEE THE SKY

Ow

my heart

That was incredibly satisfying to read lol

I’m so glad most of the characters are still alive and everyone’s THEMSELVES again. I couldn’t ask for anything else.

(Except maybe Kaltain to go on living)(and become best friends with Aelin and match her, flame for flame, and maybe they could paint each others nails and gossip about boys)(and everything would finally calm down and everyone could just be happy)

[rufousnmacska]

Only You

A manorian arranged marriage fic from an anon request -

Do you think you could write an angsty manorian drabble where political/royal pressures and such has Dorian marry someone else + Dorian being mortal has Manon encouraging him? just all that manorian heartbreak+pining. also really love your fics!

This turned into much more than a drabble, but I hope everyone enjoys it! 🤗

Many thanks to @itach-i for beta reading and helping plot things out! ❤️

*

PART ONE

*

Dorian hadn’t noticed the cold until his valet wrapped a furred robe around him. How long had he been standing out here? The sun had just broken from the horizon and his breath was pooling in front of him with each exhale. The valet, a gray-haired man named Ruben, disappeared back into the royal suite, muttering something about the foolishness of young men. Dorian smiled grimly, knowing he was indeed foolish. Worse. He was a godsdamned idiot. And he felt numb, as though his body was somewhere far from here, his mind with it. None of it was due to the winter chill. Staring off towards the hills west of Rifthold, his eyes glanced over the many red and gold banners attached to the city’s roofs, snapping in the wind. Part of him loved seeing his people so excited, so proud for the coming celebration. They’d suffered greatly during the war and had worked hard in the rebuilding effort of the last two years. But that small joy for his kingdom was overshadowed by his own despair. How many times had he stood in this spot, watching and waiting and holding his breath until he caught sight of those silvery wings and moon white hair dancing in the sky? He’d known today would be his last chance to watch for her. And since sleep was a fool’s hope, he’d come out to his balcony and stood here for hours, his gaze on the west, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

***

The rising sun shone brightly off the tops of the castle towers, giving the small group of witches their first real view of Rifthold in the distance. In the past, this sight would leave Manon breathless with anticipation, pushing Abraxos to speed up in her excitement. There had been times when her giddy desperation to reach the castle was almost humiliating, forcing her to contain her emotions before she landed. But no matter her control in those moments, Dorian would greet her on his balcony with a ferocious embrace, seeing right through her mask. He always had. Now, Manon wished that truth away, pushing it deep down, along with the nausea roiling in her gut. As they drew nearer to Rifthold, she could just barely make out the decorations hanging from the castle. It almost brought up the meager breakfast she’d eaten not long ago. With the brightening sky, she realized the entire city was decked out, covered in colorful banners and garlands. Of course, a royal wedding demanded finery. She had expected it, guarded herself against it. But her expectations were dealt a swift blow by the reality now facing her. Manon was on her way to Dorian’s wedding. Not as the bride, but as a royal guest. And she had no one but herself to blame.

*****

Six months earlier…

Manon frowned as Abraxos landed on an unusually empty balcony. Though she’d never asked for it, the space had been rebuilt to provide a large enough area to comfortably hold a wyvern. Wrapping halfway around the king’s tower, the balcony offered magnificent views of the ocean to the east and the mountains to the west. As she dismounted, Manon realized that vast western view was what gave Dorian the ability to know she was almost there. Normally, she wouldn’t notice the view because he would be there, scooping her up and taking her inside to say hello in her favorite ways. But tonight, she and Abraxos were alone.

Quietly, so as not to startle Ruben, Manon stepped through the doorway. She needn’t have bothered. The bedroom was as empty as the outside and she heard no sounds coming through the door to the other rooms. Wondering if he hadn’t received her last message telling him when to expect her, Manon sat on a sofa to wait. She lasted less than five minutes before pacing around the room, then finally deciding to go in search of Dorian.

The office was empty and as she continued through to the exterior door, Manon rolled her eyes at the messy desk. How Dorian managed to keep everything straight in the piles and stacks of papers was beyond her. She wasn’t in the corridor long before she heard angry voices echoing up the stairway. Chaol and Dorian had stopped part way up the tower.

“You can’t afford to just dismiss this threat of rebellion. Lord Frey is an ass, but he has the ear of too many other nobles to be ignored.” Chaol sounded winded. Manon didn’t think he came up here very often since his mobility was tied to his wife’s magic. That he was here now to continue this conversation was significant.

“I refuse to give into his demands,” Dorian growled. “He complains about me leaving the kingdom to Erawan, and yet he brags about how he profited from the war. Whatever gold he has in his coffers did not come from me.”

Manon inched back to the door on silent feet. She knew Dorian’s lords were causing trouble, but he’d refused to go into detail about it with her. The thought of anyone claiming Dorian had willfully abandoned Adarlan to Erawan made her blood boil. The valg king and his armies had left a path of scorched earth and devastation on his march to Terrasen. And Dorian had spent the last two years of his life dedicated to rebuilding his kingdom.

Chaol sighed. “Yes, but what he’s proposed in exchange—”

“What he’s proposed will not be considered,” Dorian interrupted. It was a voice Manon had never heard from him.

After a long pause, Chaol continued. “I know how you feel, Dorian. But we need to put emotions aside and think this through. I’m not saying we go along with it. But right now, we have to look at every option.”

“You say ‘we’ as if you would be the one marrying his daughter.”

Manon gasped, covering her mouth to remain quiet.

“It would be a political alliance,” Chaol reasoned. “You wouldn’t have to end things with—”

Again, Dorian refused to let him finish. “Stop. I’ve told you my decision. We will find some other way to placate the rebellious lords. I am not marrying her.”

Soft footsteps punctuated by the clack of a cane sounded as Chaol left his king and descended the tower. When he was gone, she heard Dorian smash his fist into the stone wall, pieces of mortar crumbling and raining down onto the floor. Manon was paralyzed, her hands balled up into tight fists, eyes wide. And that was how Dorian found her when he took the final steps up to his suite.

***

“You misunderstood. Frey doesn’t have enough clout to demand such a thing.” Dorian was frantic, spending the last two hours trying to explain away what Manon had heard. But her face had frozen into a mask, nothing he said could tease out even the slightest reaction.

“You can’t be so flippant,” she said, the stony resolve in her voice starting to scare him. “He’s offered you an out from civil war. If you care about your kingdom, you must do it.”

He was going mad. First Chaol, now Manon. Where was Yrene to talk some sense into them? He cared about his kingdom and his people. He cared so much that he had no life whatsoever beyond the endless meetings and negotiations and squabbles. His sole joy in life was standing before him now arguing that he should marry someone else.

“If I care?” he asked. “I was prepared to die for it. On many occasions. I would gladly give my life. But I won’t give my heart.”

Manon blinked slowly, and he realized she was looking past him. “You once told me you were prepared to give up your throne for Sorscha. Then the war taught you how foolish, how childish that was. And now, as if you learned nothing, sacrificed nothing, you want to do the same thing. Your life and your heart are one in the same.” Finally, her golden eyes met his. “I am immortal. You are not. You need a human queen to give you heirs and unite your kingdom. I will not play a part in disrupting that.”

Dorian searched for any sign - an unshed tear, a twitch of her lips, a clenched jaw. But there was nothing. Nothing on her face except a cold certainty that left him feeling lost, alone. He knew this was an act, a means of protecting herself. And yet, she was right. When they’d parted ways in Orynth after the war, he’d ignored the desire to ask her for some sort of commitment beyond “We’ll see.” They both had countries to rebuild and had chosen that greater responsibility over personal wishes. Dorian told himself then that they had time. Yes, he was a mortal. But he still had a plentiful well of raw magic on which to draw upon, magic that would give him a much longer life than a normal human. And only two short years later, out of nowhere, everything was falling apart.

No, he would not let his people suffer through war again. But giving in to extortion was not an acceptable alternative. He thought of Aelin, wondering how she would handle a situation like this. With the way her people adored her, he knew she’d never reach this point. Maybe Frey and his allies were right. Maybe he’d left them to fend for themselves out of cowardice instead of prudence. Suddenly, Dorian was exhausted, tired of being king, tired of giving up everything he wanted. He rubbed his eyes until they were red

“You know it has to be this way,” she said, having watched him sort out his thoughts. “No matter what they claim, you’ve never once abandoned this kingdom. Which is why you won’t do it now.”

Dorian stared at the ground, grasping for a way out, but his mind felt like aspic, soft and muddled and useless. “I won’t be a king who takes a queen and still keeps a lover.” The ultimatum was hard to voice, but it was true. Despite his rakish history, he’d never taken a new lover without breaking things off with the old one. If ever an exception was to be made, it would be with Manon. But he would never disrespect her, a queen in her own right, by reducing her to a secret paramour and source of castle gossip.

Still stoic, she replied, “I would not expect you to.”

They had always pushed and teased each other, seeing which one would break first and admit their feelings or give in to the desire. Desperately hoping that they were playing that game now, he surrendered. “I want you, Manon. No one else.”

The slightest hitch in her breathing and a tiny flutter of her eyes sent his hope soaring. But, with a firm tone that meant she would say no more, Manon said, “Marry her, Dorian. Save your throne and keep your people from more bloodshed.”

Before he could respond, she walked out the door and climbed into the saddle still strapped to her wyvern. Manon was in the air without a look back, and Dorian sank to the ground, his head in his hands.

*****

Rumors were flying through the witch city faster than the most agile wyverns. Mere months ago, the witches had expected an announcement from their queen, happy news that their kingdom would be united with Adarlan. Some were not in favor of their queen marrying a human, king or not. Others, especially those in the queen’s council, saw it as a good match. A love match, they claimed. But now, after the royal messenger from Adarlan had arrived, the gossip was spinning out of control.

Manon stared at the thick envelope sealed with red and gold wax, the wyvern stamped into it watching her with a single mocking eye. Dorian had once laughed about how significant it was for his royal crest to include a wyvern, a connection forged between their two kingdoms before they had even met. She’d brushed the thought away at the time, rolling her eyes at his insistence that fate was at work. But now, the memory of his teasing voice sank into her chest, adding to the heaviness and pain that had been choking her since she’d left him on that balcony months ago.

“You don’t have to go. No one would fault you for it. We can send Petrah as a representative,” Glennis said, her voice stiff and formal. It was a tone usually relegated for council meetings, not a conversation with her granddaughter.

She was silent for a long moment, still looking at the envelope. Instead of answering, Manon picked it up and ripped apart the seal. The invitation was written in fanciful blue ink with a border of red berries and ivy stamped into the parchment. She frowned at the flowery words that matched the design, knowing the girl must have been behind all of it. The girl. Manon knew she was likely close to Dorian’s age, but she didn’t care. The future queen of Adarlan would forever be the girl in her mind. Even so, it was impossible to miss her name in elegant calligraphy.

Your presence is requested at the royal wedding of Lady Eveline Frey and His Majesty Dorian Havilliard II, King of Adarlan

Manon stopped reading at his name and continued to flip through the remaining pages. They contained notices of the pre-wedding events that the ‘happy couple’ hoped people would attend, despite the possibility of poor weather at that time of year.

Happy. Her eyes caught on that word and didn’t move. She knew it was a lie. And yet, her old doubts and fears flooded back into her mind. She was still heartless despite her efforts to change, he deserved someone who could sufficiently return his affections. She was immortal, he was not. Manon had reasoned that she would rather lose him like this than watch up close as he aged and died. Rather lose him now, when they could both move on to full lives, than be forced to somehow carry on after his death. A magically extended life or not, she could see no other scenario if she continued with him. And if that was truly how she felt, then she wanted to be there and show him they were both better off this way.

Glennis watched her, likely reading every thought that had gone through her head. For when Manon said she was going, her grandmother’s head dipped in resignation. “Then I will accompany you.”

Manon lost count of her attempts at crafting a reply. She began with a simple list of witches who would attend with her, which morphed into a long drawn out explanation of why she wanted to be there. Then she backtracked into a brief, two sentence response. And even then, she had to make several copies until one was legible. The anguish of what she faced kept showing itself in her shaking hand.

Her eyes keep going back to their names and she found herself wondering what the girl was like. Did she like to read? Could she fight with a sword? Would she stand up to the nobility who claimed Dorian was not worthy of his throne? How would she react to him waking up screaming in the middle of the night from a nightmare in which he’d been torturing people?

That last thought made her feel sick. Not because of the dreams that still plagued him - she was well versed in helping to comfort him, just as he knew how to ease her grief and fear after a nightmare. It was the idea that they’d be sharing a bed that turned her stomach.

Gods what was she thinking? There were two months until the wedding. Was that long enough to forget everything Dorian was to her?

Manon knew the answer. And yet, when she read over their names again, she made herself remember why things had to be this way. Adarlan could not survive another war, especially one which tore it apart from the inside out. This was for the best. His and hers. This wedding would be closure, and afterwards, she could move on, search for a suitable consort. Not to become her king. She could not bear seeing anyone else beside her in that capacity. But finding an acceptable male to produce an heir would help to stabilize her kingdom. If Dorian was forced to set aside his heart to help his people, then she would do the same.

When she gave the reply to Glennis later, her grandmother frowned. “I find myself not wanting to send this.”

“It will be us and two sentinels. That’s all,” Manon said, ignoring the witch’s reluctance. “We will arrive the day before and leave immediately after the ceremony.” As Glennis nodded in agreement, Manon noticed she held a royal envelope in her other hand. “What is that?”

Again, that frown. “It’s from Prince Fennick Whitethorn of Doranelle. A cousin of Rowan’s I believe.”

“Was he in Orynth?” She didn’t recall him being there, but her memories from those early days battling Erawan’s army were foggy.

“I don’t think he was.”

Manon took it, examining front and back. The wax seal matched that of Queen Sellene Whitethorn. “What could this be?” she wondered aloud.

Glennis was already walking away, but she turned and said sharply, “I can only imagine.”

Manon was glad she waited until she was alone to read it, for by the end of it, she was sitting motionless, the letter forgotten on the floor.

Prince Fennick Whitethorn, a cousin to both Rowan and Queen Sellene, had written to express his regards and dismay at the news that the King of Adarlan would marry a noble from his own kingdom. He’d felt compelled to write her directly, offering her his support and friendship since he’d experienced something similar a few hundred years before. As Doranelle’s representative at the festivities, he hoped they could meet in Rifthold. In not so veiled terms, he suggested they might establish an alliance of their own, one that would be amenable to both their countries.

Mere hours after speculating about taking a consort and here she was, staring at a proposal. She couldn’t decide between outrage or amazement at the audacity of the fae male. It had certainly taken balls to approach her this way. And at this time. Picking up the letter, she read it over again. From the sounds of it, Fennick had been left heartbroken in his past. A past that extended even further back than her own. Had she not used her own immortality as a reason that Dorian should wed another? Here was an immortal throwing himself at her, eager for alliance. But she wondered if his interest would wane when he was told that at best, he might become her consort. There was only one man who she’d accept as her king, and he was now outside her reach.

She decided not to send a reply. If the fae prince was there, she would meet with him, see what kind of male he was and whether he might bring anything of worth to an alliance. If not, it would be one less thing to worry about.

That night, as she tried and failed to fall asleep, Manon found herself imagining how she might say goodbye to Dorian. They never used the word, choosing instead to focus only on their hellos. It made a twisted sort of sense that this goodbye, this parting that would be permanent, would be the first and last time it was spoken between them.

***

Yrene found Dorian in his office, watching the brutal winter winds send snow whipping through the air outside his window. Judging from her expression, she knew why he’d sent for her. When her eyes went to the letter on his desk, her shoulders seemed to slump, and she sat down heavily across from him.

“She will be attending,” he said, pushing the short reply across the desk in case she wanted to read it. After immediately recognizing the handwriting as Manon’s, he’d stared at it for a long time. As if there might be some sign of hesitation on her part, he’d examined the note, his eyes running over each stroke of ink, again and again. It was flawless. Just like her, he’d thought miserably.

“I didn’t think she’d actually come. It was meant as a formality between two allies.”

“Perhaps that’s why she has agreed. Formality, nothing more,” Yrene offered.

“How do you think Eveline will handle it?” Despite a wedding date only a few weeks away, Dorian barely spoke to his future queen. Yrene had been acting as a go between, keeping Dorian from having to feign pleasantries and interest in someone who he’d claimed looked and acted like an empty doll.

“She has been trained as a courtier since birth. I’m sure she will be as polite and ladylike as she always is.” Yrene rose and came around the desk, standing in front of the window to make Dorian look at her. “She may appear timid and vapid in front of her father, but she is no fool. She knows what this arrangement is and why it’s happening. Your involvement with Manon was never much of a secret. Eveline knows she is not your choice. But like you, she is doing her duty.”

Dorian didn’t reply. He knew his opinion of her was misguided, that it was based on anger at the situation, at her father. Which was why he kept his distance. If he couldn’t keep himself in check in private or with his friends, how could he expect to refrain from unleashing his rage on her with hurtful words? At least, that’s what he told himself. It was true, but some part of him knew that if he gave in and spent time with her, it would make this all the more real.

Yrene’s eyes darkened as she said, “Lord Frey has a reputation to match Chaol’s father. With her mother gone, I suspect Eveline has not had much control over her life. This would be nothing new to her.”

Now fully ashamed of himself, Dorian only nodded. If there was anything he could understand, it was not being able to defy a bullying parent. A new sense of sympathy filled him as he wondered how desperate Eveline must be for a new life. Freedom from an abusive father would be worth the heavy responsibilities and loss of privacy that came with being a queen. Maybe it was time to make an effort. He couldn’t envision a future where he would ever develop actual feelings for Eveline. But he could at least become her friend.

“What else have you learned about her?” he asked.

Yrene shrugged. “Her education has been extensive, and she knows much about the court and how it runs. She enjoys art and music, embroidery …” She trailed off, trying to think of any other attributes worth sharing. “Horse riding. She always seems to be coming back from the stables when I see her. I’ve gotten the impression her father does not approve of that hobby, but she maintains that being a good horsewoman befits a true lady.”

“So, she does disobey him then …” Dorian smiled slightly, recalling how he used to rebel against his parents. Horse riding was much less scandalous. “Does she need any help with the wedding plans?”

The suddenness of his change in tone had Yrene blinking at him. “I don’t believe so. But I can ask her.”

Dorian stood and walked towards the door. He knew if he didn’t start now, he never would. “I will go ask. I’d like to recommend some music.”

“Wait,” Yrene cried, trailing him out into the corridor. When she caught up to him, she asked, “What are you doing?”

The fear in her eyes almost made Dorian turn around and forget his pledge of moments ago to try and accept this. Yrene had always been the biggest supporter of his relationship with Manon. Whether she was helping them arrange a short, secret escape from their duties, or using her sharp tongue to tear down any detractors of the Witch Kingdom, or giving him advice on how to help Manon recover from the loss of her coven … Yrene had always been there. And now, for the first time, it seemed to be sinking in for her that what she had dreamed for her friends – a happily ever after to rival what she had with Chaol – was impossible. It pained Dorian to see it and he pulled her into a hug.

“If there was another way, Yrene, I’d do it. You know that.”

She hugged him back fiercely, her voice shaking as she said, “I know. She is my friend too, Dorian. And I don’t want to lose her.”

Gods, Dorian thought his heart couldn’t break anymore. And here it was, cracking into even more fragments, each time becoming smaller and smaller. “I know.”

Yrene backed away and let loose a string of curses and insults about Lord Frey that left his eyes wide and mouth agape. He’d never heard her speak like that before, had never thought her capable of such filthy language.

Before she could think to apologize, he laughed. “Well said, Lady!”

Red with embarrassment, Yrene burst into laughter too. When they’d both regained their composure, she said, “Come. I’ll walk with you to Eveline’s rooms and catch you up on her wedding plans.”

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it. “She is as much a pawn in this game as anyone, and she doesn’t deserve my animosity.”

Yrene nodded. “As much as I hate to admit it, she’s a perfectly lovely young woman. It makes things worse in a way.”

When they reached her rooms, Yrene led him inside.

“Your Majesty,” Eveline said brightly. Her dark hair matched her eyes and she gave him a beaming smile. “I was not expecting you today.” She was going through a stack of replies to the invitations.

“Please, call me Dorian. I insist,” he said. “I have one more to add.” Slowly, as if not wanting to give it up, he handed her Manon’s reply. He and Yrene both watched her carefully as she read it.

With the same smile as before, Eveline said, “I’m so pleased the Witch Queen will be attending. None of your other royal friends are able to come due to the weather. Though Doranelle is sending someone.” She paused, thinking. “I can’t remember his name.”

As the two women went through the replies and spoke quietly, Dorian pretended to listen. For one terrible moment, he wondered what the word princeling might sound like from Eveline’s mouth. The thought felt blasphemous, leaving him spinning and trapped between two worlds: the reality sitting next to him, this perfectly lovely woman for whom he felt nothing, and a dream world where he’d wake up happy each morning to snow white hair and golden eyes. A dream that had slipped through his fingers, like the wind gusting wildly outside.

Perfectly lovely. Eveline was lovely, and perfect, with exquisite manners, an impeccable wardrobe, and a distinguished education. But despite that loveliness and perfection, he knew without a doubt that his feelings towards Eveline would never come close to what he felt for Manon. Manon was his mirror, his equal. If beings other than fae were able to have true mates, she would be his.

The thought struck him like a dagger, straight to whatever bits of his heart yet remained. Shaking his head, Dorian tried not to think of Manon, of how this next visit for the wedding would likely be her last. Tried not to dwell on how he would have to live the rest of his life without her, his mate in every way that counted.

Of course, he failed. And when Eveline asked him about what music he’d prefer, Dorian used every ounce of strength he had left to force a smile on his face and answer.

To be continued...

***

Thanks for reading! You can find my writing master list here or on AO3.

It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m not sure who all is still out there. So if I missed you, or you’d like to be tagged/removed for parts two and three, let me know.

@itach-i @bookishwitchling @manontrashbeak @awesomelena555 @jimetg98 @over300books

[snelbz]

Light Up the Ice - Chapter 9

A/N: Well. It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? I’m sorry, guys, but this story just...wasn’t coming to me for a while. But now we’re back and I am so excited. Since it has been over a year and a half since I updated this one, please forgive us if there are a few details that aren’t perfect from the first chapters. Feels good to be writing my babies again.

Written with @tacmc.

Rowan woke up to the smell of cooking bacon and fresh coffee and he sighed contentedly. It had been two days since the hit that put him out of commission. He was hoping the rest and relaxation he’d enjoyed with his girlfriend would handle it, but it seemed that his body was protesting its natural healing process.

He groaned as he rolled out of Aelin’s bed, smiling when he found Lumi curled up in the hoodie he’d left in her chair in the corner. After giving her a scratch behind the ears, though the cat pretended he didn’t exist, he padded out into the living room, finding Aelin at the stove quietly humming to herself.

“Good morning,” he said, yawning as he pulled out a bar stool and sat down.

Aelin turned, and he was once agIn floored by how gorgeous she was, straight out of bed. That first night, when the fire alarms had pulled them all from sleep, he’d been convinced she’d scrambled to do her makeup before coming out onto the lawn. Waking up next to her two days in a row had proven to him that she was naturally beautiful and he couldn’t help but stare.

“Good morning,” she smiled and set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. “Hurting today?”

“Aye,” he said, stretching his arms in the air. He felt every muscle tense in his upper body and before he could say the words, Aelin beat him to it.

“I think you need to give the team trainer a call today,” she said, placing a plate full of bacon on the counter next to her.

Rowan stared at it, wanting to reach over and snag a piece, but was fairly sure she’d catch him when he grunted in pain trying to lift it. Plus, she was dumping nearly a dozen eggs into a skillet to scramble, so he was hoping she’d be feeding him soon enough. He nodded. “I was going to do that today. I was texting with him last night and he said he and the massage therapist could come here today.”

Aelin smiled. “That would be perfect. I have to go

to work in about an hour, so I’ll feel better knowing someone is here with you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You do know I’m a grown man, right? Lived on my own for about seven years?”

Aelin stuck out her tongue and continued cooking at the stove, before setting a plate down in front of him piled high with eggs, hashbrowns and crispy bacon.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” He asked, as she slid onto the stool next to him.

She smirked and said, “Once or twice, but don’t worry. I’ve got a drunk voicemail to listen to if I ever forget.”

She winked and Rowan felt his cheeks heat, but regardless, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead and began to eat.

After his second full helping breakfast, Aelin got Rowan set up on the couch, babying him the entire time, much to his dismay, and he sent a text to the trainer asking him to call him when he got to the arena that morning. Aelin was getting ready and Rowan was playing NHL on his Xbox when the trainer finally called him back.

“Hey, man,” Rowan answered, pausing the game and propping the phone between his ear and shoulder.

Dorian’s voice came through the receiver. “How ya feeling?”

Rowan groaned as he rotated one of his shoulders. “Like I got hit by a truck.”

With a snort, Dorian chuckled. “Have you seen most of the Pirates’ team? They’re ridiculous; all of them are huge, freaks of nature. Rolfe is no exception.”

With a nod, Rowan cringed. He hadn’t realized the captain of the Skull’s Bay Pirates had been the one to lay the hit on him. “Well, whenever you and Sorscha have time, I’d appreciate it if you could make a house call.” There was silence on the other side of the line. “Dor?”

“Sorscha’s last day was Thursday of last week, I had no clue you didn’t know,” he explained. “The new therapist started yesterday.”

“Oh.” Sorscha had been the team’s massage therapist for years and Rowan vaguely remembered rumors that she’d be leaving them. He just never had them confirmed. “That’s fine, how’s the new guy?”

“She is...a piece of work,” Dorian admitted with a sigh. “You’ll meet her when we come by. You free for us to head that way?”

“Yeah, man, the sooner you get me back in working order, the sooner I can get back on the ice,” Rowan replied, debating on saying something about the home game they had that night.

With a chuckle, Dorian said, “Don’t even think about it, man. You’re not playing tonight. We’ll leave in just a bit and see you soon.”

The call ended and Rowan dropped his phone on the couch. He looked at the clock and hollered, “What time are you off tonight, Ace?”

She poked her head out of her bedroom and said, “Four o’clock, why?”

“Wanna go to the game with me?”

Aelin blinked at him. “You aren’t playing, Ro.”

“No,” he said, standing and stretching - and groaning. “But we can go sit in the player’s box and watch.”

“You want to sit next to me for an entire hockey game and hear my commentary?” She asked, grinning.

Rowan’s grin matched hers as he held out a hand, stepping towards her. She placed her hand in his and he gently pulled her towards him. “I promise I won’t be thinking too much about the game with you there with me.”

Aelin ran her palms down Rowan’s chest. “Well, that’s a tough argument.”

Rowan’s grin widened as he leaned down to kiss her. “You’ll go with me then?”

Aelin nibbled on her lip as she nodded. “If you get your ass on the couch and promise to take it easy today.”

He groaned softly. “Fine. If that’s what it takes.”

“Thank you,” she said, rising up on her toes to kiss him once more and turning back to finish getting ready. “You also have to make an appointment with your trainer.”

“He’s on his way with the sports therapist now,” Rowan said, watching her walk back to her room, enjoying every step she took. He really did try to focus on more than just her ass, but the leggings she wore weren’t helping his cause. When she looked back at him as she paused in the doorway, he had just enough time that she didn’t catch him - not that he thought she’d mind.

“Looks like we’ve got a game to go to then,” she winked, and disappeared into the bedroom.

About thirty minutes after Aelin left for the café, Rowan’s phone rang. “Hey, man. You here?”

His trainer and friend’s usually cheery voice was distinctly pissy. “Open up, Whitethorn. I’ve been knocking on your door for two minutes.”

“Oh, shit.” Rowan was up on his feet with a quiet grunt and ran to the door throwing it open. Dorian stood in front of his own apartment door, down the hall. He called, “Sorry, man, I’m staying with my girlfriend.”

Dorian’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re Aelin’s boyfriend?”

Rowan paused and blinked. “Uh, aye? You know her?”

“I grew up with her, we’ve been friends for years,” Dorian said, the light tone returning. “I told the therapist your apartment number and she’s grabbing her table from the car. I should probably call her-.”

“No, it’s fine, I need to grab a few things from my place anyways,” he shrugged, grabbing his keys off the small table by the door. “We can set up in there so I don’t have to move Aelin’s furniture around.”

Dorian snorted. “Good call.”

Rowan unlocked his apartment and let Dorian in, turning on the lights and carefully moving things out of the way. Painfully.

He grabbed one of his least destroyed game worn jerseys and tossed it over his shoulder. He very much wanted to see her wearing it. “Aelin’s coming to the game tonight,” he said, grinning.

Dorian shook his head and chuckled. “I don’t even know who she is anymore.”

Rowan’s grin only widened.

“Hey, uh, can I come in and see Fleetfoot?” Dorian asked, looking out toward the hallway.

Rowan blinked and said, “I mean, sure.”

They headed back down the hall to Aelin’s apartment, leaving Rowan’s door open for the therapist to carry her gear in. As soon as they entered the apartment, Fleetfoot was bounding towards Dorian, excited like Rowan had never seen her.

Glancing up at Rowan while he rubbed her belly, Dorian grinned. “I gave her to Aelin our junior year of college. I promised if she got all A’s on her finals, I’d get her puppy. Guess who got straight A’s the entire semester?”

Rowan couldn’t help but laugh, smiling and shaking his head. “Sounds about right.”

Dorian’s phone chimed and he stood, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “Oh she’s all set up and ready for you. Just head back down here when you’re done and we’ll talk about getting you on the ice again.”

“Aye, sounds good,” Rowan said and left, heading for his own apartment. The door was shut now, but he assumed it was just for privacy. He’d had to get sports massages before. They were basically a glorified regular massage. They focused on specific muscles groups, some quite intimate and quite awkward, but for the most part the etiquette was the same.

A dim room, quiet music or white noise of some sort, a special table covered in a white sheet, and the fact that you typically undress and are under just a towel.

Suddenly, Rowan froze with his hand halfway extended toward his doorknob, as he realized he was about to essentially be naked, alone in his apartment, with a woman he’d never met, as she rubbed her hands all over his body.

He’d had to get sports massages before. Just never while he’d had a girlfriend.

Maybe he should ask Dorian to come in and talk while she worked on him.

With a sigh, Rowan realized he was overthinking things. This was her job and he was judging her before he’d even met her. She was probably extremely professional and he was worrying for no reason.

With a shake of his head, he entered his apartment and asked, “Hello?”

A young woman rounded the corner, wiping her damp hands on a paper towel. Her long, black hair was braided back, and by the time her obsidian eyes met Rowan’s, he was frozen in place. For a moment, she didn’t react, and Rowan couldn’t breathe.

And then her eyes lit up and a small grin spread on her thin, red lips. His blood ran cold. He swallowed. “Maeve. What...the hell are you doing here?”

“Ah, Rowan Whitethorn,” she cooed. “We meet again.”