#poly!rowaelin x reader

[throneofsapphics]

thin doors 

Rowaelin x Reader 

Summary: “Please, pick one broom closet and stick to it,” with Rowaelin. 

Warnings: smut, oral (f!receiving), this is pure smut, minors dni!

A/N: for this. 

Aelin’s hands tangled in your hair, tugging you closer to her. Heads tilting, your lips met, teeth nipping, your hands slid to brace her waist, tearing from her to kiss down the side of her neck, gently sucking - not harsh enough to leave a bruise, just enough to draw those beautiful noises from her. 

You felt Rowan press against your back, from the corner of your eye he cupped the back of Aelin’s head, tilting her to give you more access to her neck, before meeting her lips with his own. 

You’d never get tired of the two of them. 

Aelin distracted you, her hand cupping your breast with a rough squeeze. A soft whimper, but you countered, the soft fabric of her dress a thin barrier, running your thumbs along her chest, her nipples peaking beneath your touch. 

The second Rowan released her, you gently pushed her back, letting her hit the wall before dropping to your knees. 

Rowan huffed a laugh, but helped gather the skirt around Aelin’s waist. 

Bare. 

You tilted your head up, Aelin’s unabashed smirk looking down at you. “Well?” She drawled, “are you going to get to work?” 

You pinched her hip, but kissed up the inside of her thigh as she threw the other over your shoulder.

Rowan had moved, barely - not that there was much space in the broom closet, but enough to give him room to watch. 

If he wanted a show, you were more than happy to give him one. 

One kitten lick, and Aelin’s hands were in your hair, a loud moan falling from her lips. 

Pounding on the door froze you in place, Aelin’s hand stilling on your head, her dress falling - covering you and her. Gods, hiding under her dress - not that it did a very good job. 

“Please, pick one broom closet and stick to it,” Aedion yelled. “Far away from my rooms.” 

You shifted the fabric, popping your head out from under. Rowan had shoved around the two of you, probably ready to give the male a piece of his mind - for interrupting his wonderful show. 

Aelin’s hand grabbed his shoulder. Somehow she’d balanced against the wall on one leg. Your head tilted in admiration. 

“Piss of cousin,” Aelin countered, and shoved you back under her dress. 

[shadowdaddies]

Hiiiii may please write rowaelin x reader where she gets injured and they get like rlly possessive over her

we know how protective Mr. "you're sleeping in my bed until you're better" is when you're hurt 😏 lmao love this

Protective Instincts

Rowaelin x Reader

Warnings: mention of battle/injury

Head pounding, you groaned in pain, groggily blinking awake as you took in your surroundings. A warm fire roared from a hearth across the room, situated next to the chairs and couch that made up the seating area - Aelin asleep in one of the chairs, curled in an awkward position with her legs swung over the armrest so that she was facing you.

You registered that you were in a guest room of the Lochans’ castle, where you’d been staying during your meetings with Aedion, Lorcan, and Elide over barrier precautions. Memories flashed in your mind as you fell back weakly against the pillows - you recalled the sudden attack, raiders from the Frozen Wastes who had somehow crossed the mountains in an attempt to overtake Perranth. 

Recalling the injury in your side from one of the raiders, you instinctively reached for the wounded area only to release another loud groan at the pain. In the corner of your vision, Aelin stirred, eyes widening as the two of you made eye contact. “You’re awake,” she cried, voice choking on the words. You smiled softly at her, your own voice scratching as you attempted to speak to her. 

Aelin leapt from her chair as you sputtered out a cough, bringing a glass of water from the nightstand to your lips. Putting the glass back down, she stroked your hair softly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?” You took a deep breath, still coming back to your senses. “I’m in pain, but-“

You were interrupted by Rowan opening the door, a tray with two plates of food in his hand as he noticed your wakened state, tension visibly dissipating from his shoulders as he did so. “Hi,” you whispered at him with a small smile. Rowan sat down the tray next to your water, rushing over to take your head in his hands, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. He maintained that stoic expression he usually did, but a torrent of emotions swam in his eyes, filled with concern.

Aelin reached up to take your hand in hers. “You were saying?” Refocusing your attention to her, you nodded. “I’m in some pain, but it’s manageable. I’m just trying to remember what happened.” A muscle ticked in Rowan’s jaw. Barely keeping a leash on his anger, he directed the question at you, “you don’t remember how you rushed into battle? How you jumped in front of a blade meant for another soldier?”

A flurry of guilt, grief, and other emotions overcame you as your lip wobbled under Rowan’s intense gaze. Aelin held up a hand, silencing him before he could lecture you further. “You were the kind, brave person that we know and love.” She glanced at Rowan pointedly before continuing, “we’ve been very worried. You were mostly unconscious for nearly a week.” Your eyes widened, jaw slack as you registered her words. A week? You must have been close to death’s door for an injury to take you out for so long. 

You held back tears, looking at Aelin and then Rowan. “I’m sorry, I know that must have been scary for the two of you,” you whispered. Rowan’s eyes softened then, and he crouched down beside where you laid as he took your hand, pressing a kiss to it. “You have nothing to apologize for, love. Here, try to eat some of this food while it’s warm.” 

He turned, picking up the tray as Aelin crawled into bed beside you, taking a plate for herself as Rowan sat on the other side of you, helping you eat the warm soup and bread. A knock on the door sounded before Aedion entered, “I just wanted to check and see how you’re do-“ 

Rowan cut him off with a growl, Aelin flashing her canines as their protective instincts took over. Aedion held up his hands in a placating position, giving you a playful smile as he retreated out of the room. “I’m glad you’re okay. They’ve been like this all week,” he teased with an eye roll as Rowan snarled once more in warning. 

The door clicked shut, the three of you alone once more as Aelin finished her food, snuggling into your side as you put an arm around her and leaned your head on Rowan, eyes drooping once more now that you were sated with food. “Uh huh,” Rowan tsked, helping you sit up. “No falling asleep yet. You’ve been asleep for days, and need a proper bath. I’ll be back for you in a moment.”

You scoffed softly under your breath, turning to Aelin as he left the room. She smirked at you, flicking your nose. “He is right, you know. You do stink.” Leaning in to press a kiss below your ear, Aelin murmured against your neck, “but I’ll help you clean up.”

[danikamariewrites]

Can I request a rowan fic smut cockwarming hard dom with praise and lots after care in the end pls

Stay Still (SMUT)

Rowaelin x reader

A/n: so ik you said Rowan x reader and it is HOWEVER I feel like I can’t write one without the other lately but Aelin only makes an appearance at the end

Warnings: hard dom Rowan (kind mean), cock warming, degradation/praise kink, overstimulation, use of safe word, fluff at the end

Walking past Rowan’s office the stern call of your name made you jump. You shyly walked up to his desk after being told to shut the door. Standing in front of Rowan you found it hard to look at those perfect green eyes.

Rowan tapped his pen against the desk, waiting for you to look at him. He let out a deep sigh before clearing his throat. “Do you know why I called you in here angel?” You glanced up at him, biting your lip you look back down at the carpet.

Gods damnit, you knew Aelin would tell on you! That is the last time you let her edge you without Rowan present. You let out a small defeated sigh through your nose. Through your lashes you swear you saw Rowan smirk a little, then snap his signature stern look back on.

“Yes sir.” You say softly. Rowan pushes his chair back from his desk. Looking up at him through your lashes Rowan waved you over to him. You quickly move to stand between his muscular legs, knowing that if you didn’t your punishment would be worse.

Your mate holds your hips in an almost bruising grip. He slowly looks up at you with a heated look. Those green eyes taken over by his list blown pupils. You could practically see his thoughts.

“I know you want to ask so I’m going to tell you, Aelin’s punishment will come later. Yours will be now.” You nod in understanding. “Good girl,” he purred. “Now, let’s get this off.” He begins to unlace your corset as you slide your arms from the sleeves of your dress.

An hour later you were holding back your whines from how sensitive your pussy was. You were squirming on Rowan at this point.

You started with your back to his chest once you were fully stripped. Rowan had pulled and teased your nipples until they were red. He rubbed at your clit being in you to the edge too many times to count.

After you had screamed, begging for release, Rowan had demanded silence. “Only good girls get to talk,” he had said.

Now, still fully seated on his cock, you were sitting chest to chest with Rowan. Trying not to move too much so your over sensitive body didn’t brush against the fabric of his clothes. You were willing to wait this out. Your reward in the end would be too good.

Rowan shifted under you, reaching for a blank piece of paper across his desk. You whimper at the shock that runs through your body. Your hips were killing you in this position. And your clit, which still felt raw from his fingers rubbing and edging you.

“Shh,” he says softly, bringing a hand to rub up and down your spine. You felt too tight in your skin all of a sudden. Like if you didn’t get away from Rowan you’d suffocate. Your eyes start to water. “Buzzard,” you choke out.

Rowan immediately stopped. Dropping his pen he gently holds you by your shoulders, pulling you away from him. His eyes were back to that beautiful pine green and full of concern. All traces of lust gone. “We’re going to get up, are you ok to do that?” You nod, tears still silently falling down your cheeks.

He slowly stands you up, bringing you over to the velvet couch. Pulling a spare robe out of the wardrobe in the corner. Once you’re covered he gathers your clothes and picks you up to bring you back to your chambers.

On the way back Rowan sent a message to Aelin down the bond, urging her to end her meeting early. Rowan brought you straight to the bathroom into a warm bath. You’ve calmed down now. Feeling returning to your body as Rowan used his hands to scoop water on your shoulders.

Rowan rubbed your shoulders, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “How are you feeling?” He asks softly. “Better,” you hum.

“Let’s talk about it. What sent you over the edge, baby?” Rowan started wetting your hair, lathering the shampoo in his hands.

You let out a content sigh as Rowan’s hands rub your scalp. “It was too much edging and overstimulation. It was nice at first but feeling that much made me uncomfortable.” Rowan places a small kiss on your forehead. “I’m so sorry it was too much, baby.”

Rowan guides you to lean back, soaking the suds from your hair. “It’s ok, my love. I’m ok now.” You open your eyes, blinking up at him and giving him a small smile.

Once you’re all clean and relaxed Rowan changed you into comfy clothes, wrapping you up in his arms under the covers. As Rowan runs his fingers through your hair as your eyes get heavier until you’re lulled to sleep.

[autumnshighlady]

I Will Carry You

poly!Rowaelin x f!reader

summary: Rowan and Aelin confront you after an argument

warnings: angst, themes of depression sort of?, overall bad mental health, Aelin is a bit mean in the beginning, hurt/comfort

word count: 2.4k

request: I LOVED your rowaelin x reader fic! Could you possibly do one where the fem reader is mentally exhausted and just needs a break and Rowan and Aelin are there to comfort her? If not that’s ok. Hope your doing well <33

listen to “Carry You” by Fleurie and Ruelle either after or while reading this fic for emotional damage, or comfort depending on the kind of person you are lol

disclaimer: this has not been proofread lmao ignore any mistakes xo

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Getting out of bed this morning was a struggle. It had been for weeks now, mornings consisting of you waking up with that all too familiar weight on your chest that threatened to pull you under. For weeks, all you wanted to do in the mornings was curl up under the covers and forget about the world around you.

The irony of it was things were going well – your lovers Aelin and Rowan ruled Terrasen, slowly healing the broken world they fought so hard to protect. Her court, which you presided in, was successfully rebuilding the realm piece by piece. It was hard work, but you loved it. You were in charge of overseeing Terrasen’s relations with the other countries of Erilea, which meant you got to speak to Dorian and Manon via letters, each of them ruling their respective kingdoms.

But like any job, it had its downsides. You were completely overworked, working from sunrise to well past sunset almost every day. You barely had time to see Rowan or Aelin, often missing most meals and holing yourself up in the study to work. Your lovers respected your space, giving you the time you needed to do your job, although sometimes you wished they wouldn’t.

Guilt gnawed at the pit of your stomach. Aelin had given up almost everything to save Erilea and Terrasen, surely you could manage your job which paled in comparison to all she had done. If Aelin could sacrifice her powers and save the world, surely you could manage your court job. But you couldn’t help it, the exhaustion that had you going through the motions of your day rather than truly living it and enjoying the peaceful new world. Sleep was elusive as of late, leaving you even more drained. And to wake up and face yet another mountainous workload…. it was not exactly enticing.

The words scripted on the letters in front of you began to blur, as they had on and off for the past few hours. You were so tired, so mentally drained…. not to mention the growing ache in your back from being hunched over a desk all day, or the pounding in your head from reading piles and piles of documents and transcriptions. It was well past dinnertime, the sun having set over the hills in the distance long ago. You shifted in your chair, if only you could just have a nap…

“Angel?” Came the sound of Aelin’s lilting voice from the other side of your door. You quickly straightened your back, brushing some papers to the side to create some illusion of organization.

“Come in.” You called. Aelin breezed through the door almost before you finished your sentence.

“Did you send the letter to Adarlan last week requesting the extra shipment of coal?” The blonde queen asked immediately. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed, finding yourself wishing that Aelin had just come to see you, not to discuss court business.

“I’m sure I did.” You replied, unable to keep the tenseness out of your voice. Aelin cocked her head, annoyance blazing in her turquoise gold eyes.

“Really?” She said sharply. “Because if you did, it should have been here by now surely, right? We need that extra coal, bad.”

“Alright, alright,” You snapped, patience running thin. “I’ll double check my logs, okay?”

Aelin merely exhaled through her nose, turning her head to the side away from you. Annoyance seeped through your veins at the action – every time you had seen your girlfriend for the past few weeks it was always about court matters, so formal and business-like that if someone overheard any of your interactions, they’d have no clue about your relationship. You couldn’t entirely blame Aelin though, almost unable to imagine how much stress she must be under as well. Sure, winning the war was arguably the most difficult part, but running a country required a different strength, one that she was still adjusting to.

You fumbled for your record book, which detailed all the communications between you and the representatives of the other countries and groups. After flipping through some pages, you reached the section you were looking for, and your heart dropped when you noticed the unsent letter addressed to Adarlan still stuck to the page.

You forgot to send it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Aelin muttered, beginning to pace back and forth.

“I’m so sorry,” You stammered, throat closing up with shame. “I swear I thought I had sent it-”

“Well, you didn’t.” Aelin interrupted, voice raising. “And now we don’t have enough fucking coal to run the all forges in Perranth.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t make a shipment appear out of thin air!”

You were too exhausted to fight. Normally you would have yelled back, pointed out to your girlfriend that the reason you forgot to send it was because she kept giving you issue after issue to deal with and prioritize. But you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the pissed off queen. You felt empty, like a husk of a person, just waiting for the interaction to be over so you could go back inside your own head, even though you hated being there.

“I’m sorry I let you down, your majesty.” Was all you managed to say as you brushed past Aelin and walked out of the room, leaving her in your study. You made your way up the stairs to your room, which was across from Rowan and Aelin’s.

Sometimes you wished you could share their room, truly be a part of their everyday lives. Sure, you stayed over there many times, but always had to leave before the king and queen woke up. They were married, after all, and your relationship with them was a secret to everyone except for Aedion, Lysandra, and Fenrys. It hurt sometimes, stinging like a thorn you couldn’t get rid of, but logically you knew that after everything it had been through Terrasen needed a traditional, stable rule. And that didn’t involve a third partner to the King and Queen.

Finally, once you closed your door, you allowed your head to hit your pillow and soak up your tears as you wept. You wept over your exhaustion, how much of a failure you felt like for letting Aelin down. You cried because you felt like you were losing her and Rowan, you cried over how selfish you were for feeling that way.

Hours passed, and your tears had finally dried up, leaving you numb. You didn’t feel much of anything anymore, just pure exhaustion that no amount of sleep could soothe. When the moonlight crept in through your window, you heard your door open. You were facing the other way, but your fae senses picked up snow and pine mingled with jasmine and embers.

Rowan and Aelin stepped through the door and approached your bed. You felt a shift in the bed as they sat down on the mattress, Rowan next to your back while Aelin took up residence behind your legs.

“Aelin wanted to come sooner,” The silver-haired male’s deep voice sounded from behind you. “But I figured you both need some time to cool down.”

You said nothing, swallowing the lump in your throat. All you had wanted these past few weeks was for your lovers to come see you, but now that they were here, you didn’t want them to see you like this. You knew they had both fallen in love with your spirit that Rowan had often compared to the raging waters of the sea. You knew they saw you as strong-willed and proud, determined and unbreaking. How could they have fallen in love with that version of you, yet still love this broken shell before them?

“I’m sorry, angel.” Aelin’s voice was soft, far from the anger that was laced through it a few hours ago. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You’re so busy all the time, it was an honest mistake. Really, we’ll figure something out. It’ll be ok, don’t even worry about it.”

You knew you should feel relieved, but you didn’t. Every part of you felt weighed down, your throat constricted like if you spoke you’d burst into tears again.

“Angel?” Rowan said after you didn’t respond. You felt a large hand stroke your hair a few moments later. That simple touch, filled with so much tenderness, was your undoing.

Sobs wracked your body once again, your mental exhaustion too fragile to handle anything. Wordlessly, two sets of hands gently grabbed you and pulled you upright and towards the headboard, nestling your body in between them. Aelin pulled you sideways into her chest, wrapping her arm around your waist and stroking your face with her other hand while Rowan rubbed gentle circles on your back. The King and Queen of Terrasen let you weep, sandwiched between their two powerful bodies. Their presence comforted you, slowly filling the hole in your chest that had been carving itself out in the past few weeks.

“I’m so tired.” You choked out between sobs.

“Have you not been sleeping?” Rowan asked, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“No, but that’s not what I mean,” You managed to get out. “I’m drained, Rowan. I’m so exhausted, I can’t do this anymore.”

You dared a glance up at Aelin, and saw sadness but understanding across her face. You knew the words hit differently for her, having overheard her conversation with Rowan in the days leading up to the final battle against Maev and Erawen.

“My moonlight,” Aelin murmured, pulling you closer. “My sweet moonlight. Why didn’t you come to us before? We could have helped you.”

“You guys are so busy ruling a goddamn kingdom,” You said. “I figured I could get through it on my own. I didn’t want to trouble you.”

“You could never trouble us, angel.” Rowan reassured, running a hand through your knotted hair. “We will always have time for you.”

“I could not care less if you bust down the door to my war council meetings and demand my attention just so you can hear me tell you how much I love you,” Aelin said fiercely. “I would drop everything for you in a heartbeat. We both would.”

Rowan murmured his agreement from behind you, reaching down and grabbing your hand.

“Besides, even if you did do that nobody could do anything to object.” The queen added. “Because then they’d have to deal with me, and nobody wants that.”

You laughed, the action foreign to your body as of late.

“Thank you,” You said quietly. “I missed you both lately.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t checked in on you,” Rowan said, his voice grave. “That was a mistake. I had no idea how much work you were juggling and how exhausting it must be. Writing letters and dealing with diplomats would make my head explode, I truly don’t know how you put up with it.”

“That is why I am in charge of it, and you are not.” You retorted, chuckling.

“Rowan would be horrible at your job.” Aelin snorted. “But it’s a lot to handle, even for someone as incredible as you. I can ask Aedion to assist you for the next few weeks, if that would make things easier.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. As much as you knew your exhaustion was from many other things as well, having the extra workload cut down would help tremendously.

“Thank you.” You murmured. “Thank you so much.”

The three of you stayed like that for a few more minutes, basking in each others presence until Rowan scooped you up in his arms. You wanted to whine at the loss of contact from Aelin, who also stood up.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Taking you to bed.” Rowan said, walking towards your door as Aelin opened it.

“Uh, my bed is back there, you doorknob. We were just in it.”

“That won’t be your bed anymore,” Aelin stated as the three of you exited the room and headed towards the entrance to the King and Queen’s chambers. “Because you’re moving to ours.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had wanted this for so long, to share their space. You had been too afraid to ask though, for fear changing the living arrangements would screw up the dynamic you already had that you often thought was too good to be true.

“But everyone will know about us–” You began.

“Good.” Aelin interrupted. “I want to show you off as mine.”

Rowan coughed, and the blonde rolled her eyes.

“As ours.” She corrected herself before winking at you as she opened the grand doors to their chambers. You giggled, Rowan squeezing you slightly as he carried you into the luxurious space. A grand fireplace was burning across from the bed, which was large enough to fit five people you guessed. You always loved Rowan and Aelin’s room, and the fact it was now yours too made you want to sing from the rooftops.

“People will talk,” You warned. “They’ll disapprove.”

“Let them.” Aelin said simply. “Then I’ll deal with them.

“You mean separate their head from their body?”

“Something like that.”

You giggled again, and Aelin pulled back the sheets of the obnoxiously large bed. Rowan laid you down, right in the centre before climbing in on the spot to your right, while Aelin took up the left. She pulled the duvet up, tucking you in while Rowan placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“We love you so much, angel.” He murmured, stroking your face. You stared into his green eyes, heart melting at the softness that lay behind them. In the past few months before the battle you had grown so accustomed to those eyes being filled with coldness, the strain of the war chipping away at him. But now he looked at peace, with you and Aelin by his side.

A smaller hand grabbed your jaw and turned your head the other war. Aelin smiled, connecting her lips with yours. Your queen, your fireheart kissed you with so much love you thought you would burst at the seams.

“Never forget that.” Aelin murmured, curling her body up against yours. “We will always be there to carry you. You are not alone.”

In a tangle of limbs, you laid with the King and Queen of Terrasen at your sides, bodies shielding you from the rest of the world as you fell into the first truly good sleep you had in a very long time.

[gothicbabydollz]

I’ve started writing ToG and ACOTAR smut because your blog inspired me and here’s a snippet of my rowaelin x reader (i’m working on the bsfd!gavriel x reader again since you liked the snippet for that hehe)

He chuckled darkly, removing his hands from his pockets. “Such a pretty little thing you’ve got there, Fireheart.” His velvety voice dripped in lust, and you practically throbbed at the tone. He stepped forward, silver hair shining under the light of the moon. That tattoo on his face blended in with the shadows, an utterly terrifying yet arousing site. “I like her, Rowan,” Aelin said, squeezing your thigh harder and causing you to whimper. “Can we keep her?”

Instead of bracing yourself for whatever humiliating response you expected Rowan to give, you blurted out apologies. “I’m sorry,” You stammered. “I swear I’m not trying to get between you two, I just–” Your words were cut off sharply as Rowan’s massive hand wrapped around your throat, silencing you with a gentle but firm squeeze. “Oh please,” He murmured, bending down to squat next to you as he brought his lips to your ear. “We’ve been wanting this just as long as you, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrowed, causing the prince to chuckle. Aelin continued her circles on your inner thigh, slowly inching it further and further up as her lips alternated between your shoulder and ear. “I’m surprised you didn’t get the hint earlier, little dove,” She quipped as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “We tried to get you closer to us, but you pulled away. Did you honestly think Rowan just forgot to put up a magical shield to block out our sounds when we slipped away a few nights ago? We knew you could hear us, I’m disappointed you didn’t join.”

-🤠

You have?! I’m so happy to hear that, you’re a great writer! And this? Is so good. I love it so much. I’ve been so horny for rowaelin recently that this is amazing!

I’m excited! And I know I’ll definitely get around to writing some bsfd!Gavriel myself, he’s too good.

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

December Reading List

As always, read at your own discretion. If you enjoyed a fic please show the writer some love with a reblog and a comment!

Festive fic recs can be found here.

🔥 = smut!

Azriel

Forgotten by @sarahs-library

Moonsong by @draemgal

Slow Hands @readychilledwine

The Only One by @shadowdaddies 🔥

Bucky Barnes

Come Dance With Me by @crazyunsexycool

Lumberjack Bucky by @sebstanwhore

Lumberjack in Love by @jobean12-blog

Mint by @buckets-and-trees 🔥

Safe and Sound by @witchywithwhiskey

You Lost The Game by @mollygetssherlockcoffee 🔥

Feysand

Shimmering/Shattered by @whisperingmidnights 🔥(poly! Feysand X Reader)

Loki

Awful Things by @superficialdomina

Fairly Innocent by @mochie85 🔥

Frigga's Wedding Gift by @lokisgoodgirl

Frozen Stiff by @simplyholl 🔥

Lessons Learnt by @lokiisdaddyblog 🔥

Like You Hate Me by @wheredafandomat 🔥

Million Dollar Man by @st4rymoon 🔥

My Girl by @lokisgoodgirl 🔥

Thick and Thin by @loki-is-daddy

Unraveled by @cleo-fox 🔥

Until Next Time by @sarahscribbles 🔥

Original Characters

Orc Boyfriend Ask by @werecreature-addicted 🔥

Poly Ships

Always Ours by @leafsandstarlight (Nesta x Cassian x Azriel x Reader)

Fours Company by @readychilledwine (Azriel x OC, Nessian, Feysand & every combo in between!) 🔥

Payback by @leafsandstarlight 🔥(Rhys x Azriel x Cassian x Reader)

Three Wishes by @tsunami-of-tears 🔥(Bat Boys x Reader)

Rowaelin

Stay Still by @throneofsapphics 🔥

Rowan Whitethorn

Playing With Pain by @throneofsapphics 🔥

SamBucky

A Good Fit by @siancore

Deal With It by @duckybarnes1917 🔥(Sam x Bucky X Reader)

Steve Rogers

Put On A Show by @witchywithwhiskey 🔥

[zoyaofthegardvn]

I saw some rowaelin's x reader fics in the TOG tag and I was wondering if you're willing to write for them?

do you mean like a poly sort of fic? i think so! tbh i despise aelin, rowan is okay, but maybe a throuple dynamic would be fun? i'd consider it depending on the request/prompt!

[saphirered]

No I'm sorry I worded it wrong I meant do you write poly Rowaelin x reader? 😭

Don't stress, lovely! I've never written for them poly before but I'm open to it so feel free to send Rowaelin stuff my way and I'll see what I can do!

-Love, Saph 😘

[throneofsapphics]

celebration masterlist

from this post. thank y'all so much for sending these in, there were a few duplicates, and a few extra might make there way out, but I kept it to 12 to keep myself realistic. I'll update this as they're posted! I love all of you and thank you so much for the support!

The Arrangement* - Rowan/Fenrys/Lorcan x Reader (2/25)

"You'll take what I give you"

A Favor - Dorian x Reader (2/27)

"I could help you forget him/her."

Loyal Friends* - Ruhnlidia x Reader (2/29)

At least I didn't get arrested. 

"You look so pretty on your knees."

"You look good with my hand around your neck."

Thin Doors* - Rowaelin x Reader (3/2)

"Please, pick one broom closet and stick to it."

The Other Side - young!Rhys x Reader (3/4)

"I hate you." "No you don't."

"How do you sleep at night?" "I usually go for a bed." 

Pretty For Me* - Mor x Reader (3/14)

"You look so pretty on your knees."

Last Avenues* - Feysand x Reader (3/24)

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" 

"Is that all you have?"

Stay In The Moment With Me - Rhys x Reader (3/27)

"I don't want to be alone tonight"

A Present* - Nessian x Reader (3/28)

“Take it off”

A Pretty Smile - Nyx x Reader (3/29)

"How have you survived this long by yourself?" 

At least I didn't get arrested

Breaking Point* - Manon x Reader (3/30)

"Do it already or I'll find someone else."

Supposed to Be Us - Asterin x Reader (3/31)

“Tell me it was a lie.” “I can’t.”

[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part 9

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again, and deal with the fall-out of your secret

Warnings: brief mentions of difficult pregnancy/birth, drinking, mentions of death 

Word Count: ~5.8k

A/N: sorry this one took so long!

series masterlist

Rowan looked for Aelin on instinct, wondering if she’d seen the same thing. On the other side of the ballroom, there was no inclination that she saw a thing. Should he tell her? Maybe. 

A thousand emotions flooded through him; jealousy, hurt, betrayal, confusion, all surpassed by the desire to storm out of there and drag you far, far away from her. At least he had enough self-control to reign himself in. You were well within your rights to … be with whoever you wanted, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

Aelin met his eyes. What is it? 

A brief shake of his head, and she frowned - her expression telling him they’d be talking about it later, but dropped it. There’s a time and a place, and now certainly isn’t it. 

Still, he couldn’t stop his own mind from wandering. Where the hell do they go from here?  

He knows better than to think you were doing this to get their attention, but part of him wished you were. At least he’d know then that you wanted them. If anything, you were doing it to put some space between the three of you. 

Was he going to fight for you this time? Did you want him to? Rowan was a tad ashamed he didn’t know the answer. 

-

You ran a finger over your lips. They were bruised but not from who you really wanted. 

You did this. Took the small blossom of hope, and crushed it. The small spark of happiness terrified you enough you had to destroy it. You didn’t belong to them, and you knew that, but any chances of it repeating itself were gone. It would’ve ended in flames anyway. This was you protecting yourself. 

The more you played with the thought in your mind, letting it repeat itself until the words sounded strange, the less you believed it. 

Maybe everyone would hate you, and maybe you’d deserve it. Space. You needed to put distance between yourself and the others. It was for the better, of course. Maybe Rowan and Aelin would never speak to you again beyond what was necessary. Sure, it would hurt, but less than having your heart ripped out. 

Coward. 

Pressing your forehead against the stone, steadying your breathing, you tried to get the word out of your mind, tried to clear your head of any thoughts. It didn’t work. 

Running your hands over the gauzy fabric of your dress, you straightened it enough to look presentable. Rolling your shoulders, twisting your neck until you felt a rather satisfying pop, you put one foot in front of the other, the only goal making it to your rooms. At least Ceri was spending the night with Evangeline.

Hopefully nobody would comment on your early exit. You didn’t care. Right now, you needed to get the hell away from there, drink some water, and sleep this off. What are the odds you could avoid this for the next week? Part of you tried to convince yourself you were making a big deal out of something inconsequential, and that they might not have noticed. Sleep came easier than it should’ve, but you took the small win where you could. 

A small buzzing sound woke you, and you darted upright in bed, eyes alert and scanning. You relaxed at the hauntingly familiar magic, before memories of the previous night woke you and you tensed again, every muscle locking and on alert. 

It’s too damn early for this. 

Glancing at the window, the sun had just begun to peak over the horizon. 

Swinging your legs over, feet hitting the soft carpet, you snatched a robe and wrapped it around yourself. Despite springtime, an early chill still set in. The sounds of fire crackling hit you, the small wave of magic comforting of all things. Breathing in through your nose, out through your mouth, you strided for the door, hoping your posture portrayed some semblance of confidence. 

“You’re up awfully early,” you commented. Aelin groaned, sprawled out over your couch, arm covering her eyes as if the faint light pained her.  Rowan leaned against the wall next to the fireplace. He was tense, she was relaxed. One of them knew. 

Tea. Tea first. 

Wordlessly, you blew past them towards the small stove and kettle, busying your hands. Three mugs. 

Minutes later, you handed one to Aelin, an appreciative smile crossing her face, before her nostrils flared. 

“I thought I saw you dancing with a witch,” she huffed. There was nothing … accusatory in her voice. You forced a smile onto your face. 

“Your eyes are still working.” 

“More than dance.” 

You might kill Rowan later. Aelin’s head tilted, gaze darting from you to Rowan, but you took a few steps away, hands clenching the mug, chin tilting up, focusing on the male, eyes glittering with defiance. 

A shrug of your shoulders, and you took your place at your favorite armchair. 

The flash of anger in Rowan’s eyes amused you. He came here for a fight, but he wouldn’t get one out of you. Had he spied on you last night? Followed you out to the garden?

Despite the drunken turmoil raging in your mind last night, your head had cleared and you knew a few things; you’d done nothing wrong, and you didn’t answer to them. 

Aelin straightened, “what do you mean more?” 

She looked at you for an answer. On one side, you could let them make their own assumptions, or you could tell them what happened in plain words. You didn’t get the chance. 

In a blink, Rowan was in front of you, his hands gripping your forearms, mug clattering to the floor. One hand twined in the back of your hair, tugging your lips to his. His kiss is brutal - claiming, consuming, and territorial. The last thought sealed it for you. 

You don’t belong to anyone,’ Fenrys’s words popped into your mind, and you ignored the irony of thinking about him when Rowan’s lips are on your own. Shoving his chest, you managed to push yourself a few steps back, he didn’t budge one inch. 

“What is your problem?” Your breathing was heavy, lips already bruised. 

“You’re my problem.” 

“Oh,” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the faint buzzing in your ears, “that’s what every female wants to hear.” 

His hand gripped your arm again, “what do you want to hear?” A brief pause, and his mouth opened as if he was going to say something else, but the door flung open.  

“Thought I might find you in here,” Lysandra chirps and strolls into the room - either oblivious to the situation, or purposefully ignoring it. Rowan took a step back, eyes still narrowed on you. “The girls are still asleep,” Lysandra continued, striding for the couch Aelin was currently occupying, shoving her friends' legs aside and ignoring the snarl that might’ve sent a rational person running. “Did I miss something?” False innocence laced her voice. 

When Rowan and Aelin slipped into one of their silent conversations, she shot a wink your way. Because she knew what happened? Or because she’d caught you in a rather … compromising position?

A hiss. You blinked. Halle was winding between your legs - hissing at Rowan. The male broke eye contact with Aelin, glancing at the cat with a stony expression. Hackles still risen, she didn’t back down. 

This was too much. Not now, you couldn’t do this now. Standing abruptly, you threw some excuse out before retreating to your bedroom, ignoring the eyes digging into your back. Fur brushed against your calf, and you thanked the Gods for bringing this little creature into your life. It was a strange connection, but you knew she had your back. 

-

“What the hell happened?” Lysandra asked. 

Aelin stopped glaring at Rowan long enough to look at her best friend. The shifter raised one brow, and she looked back to her mate. 

“What do we tell her?”

“It’s none of her business.” It really isn’t, but she needs someone who’s not him to talk about this with. “Tell her what you want,” Rowan’s eyes conveyed an air of exasperation. 

“It’s weird when you do that,” Lysandra commented. 

“And you sound like my cousin,” Aelin snapped back, finally breaking her connection with Rowan. 

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” 

Aelin huffed and stood, linking her arm through Lysandra’s and dragging the woman with her. Looking over her shoulder, Rowan was staring at your bedroom door. 

“Rowan, I’m sure you’re needed somewhere,” she called. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, but this is the last place he needs to be right now. The three of you need time, and Aelin needs to wake up enough to figure out what the hell happened between last night and the last few minutes. Barely audible footsteps sounded behind them, Rowan slipping out the door right after. 

As it shut, magic slammed and barricaded behind her. Dropping Lysandra’s arm, she pivoted to gaze at the door. Locked out. There’s no way she’d get in without your explicit permission - that or one of them tearing down the shields, and gods know how long that could take. Her throat bobbed, and Rowan was glaring at the nearly imperceptible shimmer. 

Lysandra’s warm hand closed around her own, “we need to talk,” and led her back to her rooms. From the corner of her eye, she saw Rowan head towards a window. 

The conversation with Lysandra left her … reeling. In honesty, Aelin didn’t know what to think of the situation. Blindsided, yes, but was it really a betrayal If you weren’t with them? You were well in your rights to fuck whoever you wanted, but she still felt a bit hurt, maybe like she wasn’t enough. 

Aelin hadn’t dealt with this kind of insecurity ever, or at least since she can remember. 

Combined with Rowan’s little show, and your reaction, this was a mess, and that’s what she was trying to avoid. She didn’t like to admit it, but Rowan knew you better, he’d have an idea of what the hell that was about - if it was anything - once he had time to calm down. Then again … you hadn’t exactly reacted well to him. She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the golden strands. This was not how she thought her morning would go. 

The timing was inconvenient. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly noon. Tomorrow morning, negotiations and meetings would start, and there certainly wouldn’t be any time to discuss this or figure out where they stood with you throughout the week.  

Rowan’s magic hit her a second before the door swung open. She didn’t need to look at him to know he was still pissed. Sure enough, pine green eyes were filled with ire. Sitting next to her, he braced his forearms on his thighs, gaze fixed on the wall ahead of them. 

“Are we going to talk about it?” She studied his profile. Clenched jaw, narrowed eyes, chest rising and falling at a too perfect rhythm. 

“She’s a coward.” 

That, she didn’t expect. 

“Explain,” Aelin prompted. He looked at her, as if to eyes saying ‘isn’t it obvious?’, she ignored and waited for him to speak. 

“She’s scared.”

The clipped answers weren’t going to cut it this time. “Actually explain it,” she didn’t bother keeping the annoyance out of her voice. 

“She’s scared of getting close again. Too damn independent and stubborn to admit she actually wants us.”

-

“I want it,” you admitted to Fenrys, “but it’s not going to end well. I can’t put myself through that.” 

“You haven’t actually tried,” he was trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice, and you appreciated the effort - even if it fell flat. 

As if he knew you were brooding, he’d shown up and banged on your bedroom door until you came out. 

Pausing for a moment, you replayed the events of the previous night in your head. 

‘Remember to have fun. Remember you don’t belong to anyone,’ Fenrys looped his arm through yours. 

“I should blame this on you,” you jabbed an elbow into his side. His shoulders rose and fell. “You’re the one who’s trying to stir something up.” 

A half smirk on his face, but you knew he wouldn’t actually admit it - not yet. Out of character for the asshole, he was waiting for you to keep speaking. 

“Is it immature if I avoid them until the week is over?” You finally asked. 

“Maybe,” a trace of amusement found its way into his voice.

“He told me I'm his problem,” you huffed. A problem is the last thing you wanted to be. 

“It’s not the way you think,” Fenrys snorted. This morning, all Rowan did was make it obvious he either wants you or thinks he has some kind of claim over you. Aelin … you weren’t really certain where she stood, or if she actually knew what happened last night. You assumed she does by now. Assumed that Rowan’s relayed the events in the worst possible way. It had been a few hours, you took the time to try and compose yourself, to calm your racing mind - it didn’t work well, and Fenrys showed up to get the full scoop from last night. To your surprise, he hadn’t known anything, but you were in the mood to talk so you’d relayed the whole story. 

He, Evangeline, and Ceri were currently the only people your wards allowed through without your approval. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me to explain?” He followed up. 

“No. You’ll do it anyway.” 

A small buzzing sound told you someone was nearby. Jasmine and lemon verbena hit a moment later. Alone. Just Aelin. 

There wasn’t any point in trying to keep her out, and you bent the magic enough to let her through. There was no hesitation as the door swung open and she strode through. Like she would’ve on any other day. Like you hadn’t just shut them out for the first time in months. Not that you were searching for one, definitely not. 

One pointed look from her, and Fenrys left, sending a wince your way. That should’ve been enough of a warning sign. She settled on a chair across from you, looking every bit a Queen. Halle jumped up from your lap, crouching in front of your feet instead, tail swishing back and forth, hitting your ankles with each pass. Effectively, she’d put herself between the two of you. A barrier. It unnerved you, that your cat thought they might be some kind of threat. Aelin glanced at her, holding the cat’s gaze for a moment, before her eyes returned to you. 

“Is this a joke to you?”

“Excuse me,” you straightened, spine stiffening. 

“The way we feel about you. We’ve made it obvious. Tell me now if it is, I don’t like being made a fool.” There was a coldness in her, a sharpness in her tone you hadn’t heard directed at you. 

The easy thing to do would be to cow, to bend, to appease, but you were sick of doing that. 

“I don’t belong to anyone,” you kept a quiet confidence in your voice, somehow meeting her eyes. 

“Is this some kind of test?” You’d always been good at reading people, and those years of observation came through. Aelin was hurt, yes, but there was a tinge of insecurity. 

“No.” 

“Then what is it?” 

Honesty, honesty, honesty, you chanted in your mind. 

“This won’t end well,” you swallowed, “and I can’t put myself through that.”

A harsh laugh. “You haven’t even tried. We haven’t tried,” Aelin ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it. “Maybe Rowan’s right about you being a coward.” 

This time, you laughed - the sound harsh to your ears. Not a laugh of joy - of disbelief. She’d been paying attention to Rowan, then. Figuring out exactly what words would get a reaction out of you, would light a fire under your ass. Halle hadn’t reacted, and maybe it made you insane but you knew you were still safe somehow - that even your cat was still weighing the situation. 

“I prefer to call it self-preservation,” you said coolly, even as anger rose in you. Her eyes flashed, mouth turning up at one corner, gone before you could fully register it. She knew what was brewing in you, even as you tried to hide it. 

“Why are you fighting it?” 

Aelin was good. Her questions and words threw you off, darting in different directions and testing different angels. A dormant part of you stirred, thrilled at the challenge.

“It’s not that easy.” 

“We want you, you want us,” she countered. “That’s pretty simple to me.” 

You shook your head. 

“Is it what others think?” Aelin prompted, her expression told you she’d have choice words or flames for anyone who tried to judge. 

“It’s not,” you admitted. She watched expectantly, waiting for you to explain. 

In that moment, you realized something crucial. Aelin was fighting for you. 

Embarrassingly, you burst into fucking tears. 

-

Just as Aelin thought you might finally explain what the hell was going through your mind, just as she saw the cracks form, you started crying and they crumbled. 

Without thinking, she instantly rose, making her way across the room, one eye on your cat. When she wasn’t attacked, she pressed herself against your side, arms wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you into her. Halle padded off, and maybe she needed more caffeine, because she could’ve sworn the cat disappeared into the shadows. 

Was it something she said? The ‘coward’ comment was a bit harsh, and not entirely true, but she didn’t think that was it. These didn’t seem like tears of rage or sadness. Not knowing set her on edge, and all she wanted was to start pestering you for answers, but a semblance of awareness kept her mouth shut, and kept her arms around you. Right now, even with the mess, you were leaning into her, trusting her, letting yourself get whatever release this was, and she’d take it. 

One arm around your shoulders, your head buried into her side, fingers running through your hair, she waited until the tears subsided, and then a while longer before speaking. 

“What was that about?” 

You hesitated, and she watched you weigh your answer.. She’d know if you were lying, and mentally begged for you to tell her the truth. 

“I could be wrong,” you kept your voice barely above a whisper, “but it seems like you’re fighting for me.”

Her hand stilled, before she moved enough to see your face. Tears still staining your face, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, she’d never seen you look this vulnerable. “Of course I am.” 

In that moment, Aelin realized something crucial. Rowan hadn’t fought for you, and whether you knew it or not it was still stuck in your subconscious, still keeping you from diving into this. This wasn’t simple, not at all, but she doubted she could get the two of you to come to a consensus by the end of the day. A truce. There needed to be some kind of middle ground, or mutual understanding - something to keep everything at bay for now. 

“It’s not simple,” Aelin said, feeling more than hearing you stifle laughter. Ignoring the satisfaction currently rolling off you in waves, she continued  “We want you, you want us,” you stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “There’s not enough time to figure this out today.” She ran her thumb back and forth over your shoulder, the fabric thin enough she felt the heat of your skin. 

“There’s not,” you replied, slowly. 

“What if we leave it at that, and promise to talk about it after the week is over?” 

You were quiet, long enough she began to doubt herself. Gods, you might be the only person who could drag out this kind of uncertainty in her and she might start cursing you for it. 

“Alright … just keep the territorial fae bullshit at bay.” 

A genuine laugh came right from her chest. That second portion was definitely intended to reach Rowan’s ears, and she’d take great pleasure in relaying the message word for word. Messenger. Not a role she’d take on permanently, but she’d do it for now to keep the peace. Based on this morning’s interaction, Aelin got the sense it was better for you and Rowan to wait until after the week’s over to talk any of this through. 

-

Arrangements had already been made for Ceri to stay in the castle throughout the week. You’d refused, and were grateful for it. Space was good, even if you’d come to some kind of understanding with Aelin. After the week, you wouldn’t just roll over on your belly for them. Nothing would bloom overnight, you’d take the time and test if it might actually work, and trust your gut. The three of you were immortal, time was plentiful

Rowan’s reaction - even if it was hot, even if you’d replayed the moment in your mind a few times, still pissed you off. The two of you needed time to cool your heads, to breathe, and Aelin had picked up on that. Ideally, it would’ve been just two or three days, but circumstances prevented that. Hopefully, your advisor role would keep you busy enough throughout the week to keep your mind off of them, or at least to provide a bit of distraction. Gods know you need that right now for your sanity.. 

You’d already told Ceri you’d see her tomorrow, and she’d gone off with Aelin and Rowan for ‘royal duties.’ You didn’t envy her. 

Hands braced on your balcony, you saw the city bustling with excitement. After mid-day, several members of the foreign delegations took to the streets, and markets were in full bloom to sell their wares. You wondered if any of your items would make it into foreign hands. Shaking the thought, you debated whether or not you’d actually make the walk through the city. 

The last thing you wanted right now was to run into anyone you might know from your past, and although you hadn’t spotted anyone last night, you’d been regretfully distracted. 

Taking a few back passages, you made your way to a shadowed corner on the first floor before shifting. This was a risk on its own, especially if you ran into anyone from the southern continent, but, you’d move quicker this way. 

Stretching, you tested out the form. It had been a while since you’d shifted. Maybe a week or two. Feline senses were sharper, emotions were clear and simple, and you embraced it.

Blending into the shadows, not a soul recognized you as you made your way through the city. Thanks to the strange magic, the normal half hour walk - likely closer to three quarters an hour with the crowd, took about ten minutes. You spent the rest of the day touching up on notes, rearranging your books, and mentally running through questions you might be asked, before falling into an uneasy sleep. 

Day one, you were summoned twice. 

Day two, the Court predicted you’d be called in several times - so you’d shown up at the castle to wait around. Better than making the walk back and forth. Sure enough, you were called into several that day, speaking to so many people your mind was frazzled by the end, and after a glass of wine you fell into an easy sleep. 

Day three, you only came around midday to check in on Ceri, but an old face caught up with you.  

“Y/n,” a gentle but firm voice called as you attempted to retreat down the hall. It was … familiar. 

Pasting an ease-going smile on your face, you turned back to see Yrene Towers - now Yrene Westfall.  

“Hello,” you called - the smile turning genuine. You wondered if she remembered you, and part of you hoped she didn’t. She’d delivered your child after all, and that had been traumatic enough to keep you from ever getting pregnant again. Fae births were notoriously difficult, and you were no exception. 

Her husband was a few feet behind, eyeing you warily, as she closed the distance. 

“You’re doing well,” she paused a few feet ahead. She did remember. 

“Much thanks to you,” you admitted. 

“I was quite junior back then,” her mouth turned up at the corner, and she cleared her throat. “I met your … cat, the other day.” 

It was a lot of effort to keep yourself still, to keep your reactions schooled pleasant. “Halle.” 

She smiled. “How did she end up here?” 

Of course she’d know Halle was part baast-cat, and be curious about it. They rarely ever left the Torre library, as far as you knew, or mixed with other cats. 

“She showed up one day.” The truth sounded quite ridiculous coming from your lips. Her brows rose. “It surprised me.” 

She nodded, more to herself. At least she believed you.

“How do you find Terrasen?” 

“I love it here, even with the weather.”

A laugh left her, and you found yourself smiling. You’d seen the healer several times when she still lived in Antica, and she was always kind. If you guessed correctly, you’d arrived around the same time. 

“Years later, even Adarlan feels freezing.”

“Compared to Antica, everywhere is.” 

You fell into easy conversation, reminiscence. It didn’t draw any homesickness for you. Maybe a desire to visit again, but not to move back there. Should it have? That was a question to ponder later. The longer the conversation went on, the more discomfort settled in you. The questions and direction turned more personal. Not too invasive, or rude by social standards, but you’d always been a particularly private person for a reason. 

Footsteps, quiet your company didn’t notice, and your eyes flicked behind her, finding Aedion striding up the corridor, and he met your eyes, a brief nod. 

“Y/n,” he called as he got closer. “You’re wanted.” 

Teeth tugged at your bottom lip, fighting back a snarky remark. “It was good to see you,” you told her, nodding towards Chaol, and stepped around them, Aedion falling into step beside you. 

“Wanted by who?” You waited until you were out of human hearing range. 

“By many, I'm sure.” He grinned at your glare. “You just looked like you needed a rescue.” 

Chuckling, you ran your hand down your face, relieved there wasn’t actually anyone requesting you, and grateful he’d shown up. “Thank you.” 

“Everything alright?” 

“Just a lot of questions,” you muttered. 

Aedion snorted, “I thought you’d be used to that by now,” and ignored the jab of your elbow. Yes, you’d been grilled during every meeting, but that was different. Actually, you’d enjoyed it - sharing your knowledge. Personal questions were different. 

Voices came, speaking Halha, nearly rounding the corner - several paces down but they’d see you in moments. Gods, that’s the last thing you need. 

Aedion grabbed the crook of your elbow, shoving the two of you through a door you hadn’t seen, right into a servants passage. A hand over your mouth muffled your own squeak of surprise. He jerked his head, and you followed him - cobwebs in some of the corners. Apparently this one hadn’t been used in quite some time. 

“I know this castle well,” he said, taking a left. “Not many use this passage anymore. Or know it exists.”  Based on the thick layer of dust, it had probably been a few years since anyone walked through here. “I trust you to keep the secret,” a half-smile sent your way, over his shoulder. 

It didn’t come out quite like a threat, maybe more of a warning. Not many know of it, and he’d like to keep it that way. 

“I’ll keep it to myself,” you promised, but knew you’d be back to explore through them another time. Nothing about the promise said you couldn’t go back. 

“I’m ready for this week to be over,” Aedion admitted, holding the door open for you, exiting close to one of the private gardens, right near the back of the castle. 

“So am I,” you added absentmindedly. Not really, you really weren’t. The end of this week meant you’d be facing a different type of meeting - one you were still wholly unprepared for, despite writing lists of the things you want to say. The hardest part would be sticking to your boundaries, but with the help of your lists and maybe some liquid courage you could do it.  

The week was nearly over before you knew it, the second to last day arrived and everything went too smoothly, and you felt like you were constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

-

“May I speak with you?” A male with soft brown eyes, tanned skin, and light hair asked politely. 

“Of course,” you tried not to grimace, the morning hadn’t gotten off to a great start. This was your job, after all, to answer any kind of questions that might pop up. He tilted his head to the side, motioning towards a more secluded area - a garden. Against better judgment, you followed. Once you were partially obscured from view, he stopped. Too hidden. The hair on the back of your neck rose.  

He shifted from one foot to the other, glancing up at the sky. Annoyed, you pursed your lips - ready to ask what the fuck he wanted (you’d spilt your tea this morning and not had time to make another cup), but his mouth opened.  

“You are quite difficult to find,” his smile wasn’t genuine, nor was the statement entirely true. 

“I’m always here,” you countered, not bothering to hide the snappish tone You’ve been ‘on-call’ this entire week. 

“Well, to find alone,” he corrected, both hands up in a placating gesture, “not in a creepy way, I promise.” 

Bullshit. You’d bet gold he hoped that was a reassuring or disarming smile. His nostrils flared when you didn’t reply to him, didn’t assure him you found it perfectly normal - you didn’t, and placating a male wasn’t on your to-do list for the day. 

“There’s an artifact we’re looking to track down, we could use your expertise.” 

This quickly treaded into dangerous territory, and he had a glint in his eyes. The male was Akkadian, a nation that used to ally closely with Maeve. The fact that they had a delegation here, told you they weren’t a large threat to Terrasen, but everything about this situation felt wrong. 

Every warning sense inside of you flared, telling you you shouldn’t be alone with him, shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t entertain this. Your magic subtly tested the area, and felt no-one familiar nearby. Fuck. You were capable on your own, but a likely centuries old Fae warrior was before you. 

“I’m afraid that’s not in my skill set,” you said, “but I’d be happy to guide you towards some resources.” 

“I thought it was in your blood,” his mouth curved into a half-smile - like he thought he’d trapped you somehow.“ I’d recognize one of you anywhere.” 

Like an actor slipping into a role, you let puzzlement fill your features, “I beg your pardon?” 

He pinned a look with you, like you were being annoyingly obtuse. He wasn’t wrong, but you wouldn’t let him get away with vague statements or threats. 

“One of your ancestors' creations,” the way he said the word stiffened your spine, “is in circulation, causing some problems.” 

“Consequences can pass through time and generations,” he said quietly, poking at the fire. “If someone seeks you out, asks you to find or create something, treat it with caution.” The words seemed to pain him. “Not all will have bad intentions, but even the best intentions can be skewed by greed.” He reached into his pack, flipping a dagger so the hilt faced you, and pressed it into your palm. You felt the magic immediately, and your jaw dropped. The runes and wyrdmarks were intricate. “Here’s a new lesson,” you perked up. “Take that, make it so only you can use it properly.” 

“Thank you,” it was a gift - really, that he trusted you with the object. 

“If you find another,” a creased but strong hand gripped yours tightly, you fought back a wince. “Promise me you’ll destroy it.”

Gripping the hilt tightly, feeling the magic flow again, a shiver ran down your spine and you swore an oath you would. Relief flooded his features. 

Blinking back to the present, he had an expectant look on his face. Instinct told you he wanted this personally. If it was a state matter, there would’ve been others here to discuss it. Sure, you’d like more details, to ask more probing questions, but that would give you away. Right now, he was looking for confirmation and you couldn’t give that. A small thread tugged at you, a female voice whispering in your ear, leave. 

“I don’t know what you’re speaking of,” not a lie - you really didn’t, “but as I said, I’d be happy to guide you towards some resources.” His lip curled back, but you didn’t give him a chance to reply. “I’m expected,” your voice was confident and firm. “Let me know if you’d like me to put some notes together.” 

You stepped around him, striding as quickly as you could without running. Maybe you’d taken him by surprise, because several seconds passed before you heard footsteps following. 

Taking a sharp turn, you shifted and melted into the shadows. 

Weaving through corridors, you found no peace until you had eyes on Ceri, finding Halle already curled next to her, eyes alert. The clock struck noon, and you watched a few more seconds - taking notes of the guards in presence, the sense of danger and panic ebbing away, before heading to the meeting you were now late for. 

-

Vastly out of character, you’d shown up a few minutes after the intended starting time. Others were late, of course, but as long as he’d known you you’d always been early. Face pale and drawn, Rowan knew something was wrong. Scanning you, there weren’t any physical injuries. You were avoiding his gaze, not that you’d done much looking at each other throughout the week, but now it felt especially pointed. 

Someone drew you into conversation, and he watched as a mask slid into place, few others would notice something was actually wrong. He nearly snarled at Fenrys when he tapped his shoulder, but the other male jerked his head towards the meeting room. At least you’d be in this one, where he could keep a discreet eye on you. 

“Make sure y/n doesn’t leave after, something’s wrong,” he told Fenrys under his breath, an order. 

The male stiffened next to him, and nodded. He watched onyx eyes trail over to you, before narrowing. You two had an easy-going friendship, and Rowan knew Fenrys was protective over you, just as you were over him. He hated it, but Fenrys was the best person to find out what’s actually wrong. 

-

taglist: @holb32 @fussel9913 @moonlightttfae @cassianswh0reeee, @reidishh, @shanias-world @fightmedraco @goldenmagnolias @hannzoaks @jennamelinda12 @daughterofthemoons-stuff

[throneofsapphics]

i know we’ve all been requesting so much poly rowaelin lately but i was thinking of a drabble with rowan spanking reader and aelin holding her down and wiping her tears 🤓

if/when you have time and feel like writing this, of course 💕

stay still

Rowaelin x f!Reader 

Summary: Aelin helps you stay still. 

Warnings: spanking, light dacryphillia, nsfw, smut, d/s dynamics, implied subspace - this really is pure smut, no plot. minors dni!

A/N: I’ve been trying to write this for a few days but I kept sweating every time I thought about it, but now I'm drinking wine from the bottle so here we go! thank you for the request <3

Your leg kicked up involuntarily to try and cover your ass. Rowan seemed to delight in shoving it back down, in pushing you closer to submission with each strike. The next one hit right where your ass met your thighs, and your legs close together, hands flying back to try and cover yourself. 

A snarl comes from him, pressing into you, pants rough against your raw skin, your hands now pinned to your back as his body folded over you. “I thought you said you could stay still,” his voice is in your ear, breath warming your neck.

A whimper is your only response. You had said that, and trying to defend yourself would only make it worse. Rowan snorted, his hand gripping your hair, arching your head back at an uncomfortable angle. “You know what to say if you’re done.” 

Safeword. You shook your head, you wanted the pain - wanted the pleasure that came with it, wanted anything he would give you. The door opened, but he kept your head at an angle you couldn’t see. You didn’t need to see to know who it was, her presence and the scent of jasmine and lemon verbena gave it away. Besides, Rowan wouldn’t let anyone but Aelin in here during this … at least you thought so. Maybe if you pissed him off enough he would shove you down in front of everyone and spank your ass raw. That idea thrilled and terrified you, but he was possessive enough it would never happen. 

Rowan’s grip released, but a smaller hand wrapped around your chin, tilting you to meet Aelin’s eyes. 

“Can’t stay still?” She purred. They must’ve had one of their silent conversations.

Words were too difficult, especially with Rowan slowly running his hand over your ass, deceptively gentle, so you shook your head as best you could. 

She hummed, dropping you. Your cheek hit the comforter, and you had a few seconds to breathe, still keeping your eyes on her. 

A wicked grin appeared on her face as your forearms crossed parallel over your back, one of Aelin’s hands pinning them in place - shoving you further into the bed, her other hand running through your hair. “Will you stay still for me? Be good?” She asked softly. The look on her face told you she wanted words, and you dragged them up the best you could. 

“I’ll try.” 

No more false promises. 

“At least you’re honest,” she clicked her tongue, looking away from you. 

Gods, you’d almost forgotten about Rowan. 

Crack. 

A half sob left you. He was hitting harder, and kept changing his rhythm - sometimes hitting the same place twice, others alternating, slowing to lull you into false security. You knew what he was waiting for, for the final proof of your submission - tears. 

“You’re doing so well,” Aelin cooed, pushing away the strands of hair starting to stick to your face. 

Crack. 

You finally screamed, tears flooding in earnest, burying your head into the comforter, face rubbing against the soft fabric. Rowan’s hand gripped your hair brutally, forcing you to look at Aelin.

Her eyes were soft as she brushed the tears away with her thumb, gasps still leaving you. Pushing her thumb between your tips, instinctively you parted, tongue swirling around, sucking eagerly. 

“Perfect, love,” she pulled her hand away, and glanced behind you. At Rowan. He released gently this time, Aelin’s hand left the small of your back - but you didn’t move. Couldn’t. 

Your legs were shaking, your entire body shaking as you tried to center yourself. 

Whimpering, you were tugged up the bed, raw skin rubbing against the fabric of Aelin’s pants as she held you close to her chest. You were keenly aware of the wet pooling between your legs, of the coil starting to build inside of you, and her hand trailed down your body as you pressed closer to her, twisting you bury your face in her chest. A small laugh, and you jerked as her fingers brushed against your core, gathering your arousal. The touch was gone as soon as it came, and you lifted your head just enough to see her extending her fingers to Rowan. His eyes on you as he took them in his mouth, tasting you on her. 

Something like satisfaction in his eyes, that the pain he gave you turned into that. “I think she’s earned her reward.” 

There wasn’t time to think further, no time to even throw out a thanks as Aelin’s skilled fingers found your center, slipping inside you as the heel of her palm ground into your clit. Rowan’s lips swallowed your moan, his canines tugging at your bottom lip as Aelin set a leisurely pace. You could taste yourself on him, he consumed you fully - his hand cupping your jaw to tilt you to the perfect angle for him. 

“Please please please,” each word slipped into the other, mumbled against his lips like a prayer. 

“Go on.” 

Three harsh thrusts, and you were clenching around her - your entire body exploding, thrown over a cliff, head thrown back in something between a moan and a scream, maybe their names, you didn’t know. 

Then you were falling, half present as your mind slowly crept back to the present. Underwater, voices muffled around you. All you felt was content, safe. 

Minutes or hours later, cradled between two bodies, your head felt clear again.

“Hello,” you mumbled, looking up through half-lidded eyes at Rowan, Aelin curled behind you, snoring softly. You made a mental note to make fun of her for that later. 

“Hello, love,” his thumb brushed across your cheekbone. Had he been watching you the entire time? “Good to have you back,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, before tugging you - away from Aelin and into him. A disgruntled grunt behind you, followed by a snarl - you were oddly pleased that woke her up.

Exhaustion hit you, and even with their bickering and mini-territory war, you fell asleep against him.

[throneofsapphics]

old faces series masterlist

poly!Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again after seven years, and deal with the fall-out of a secret. 

Series Warnings: drinking, death, grief, violence, injuries, incest jokes, flashbacks/ptsd, mentions of pregnancy/birth

one // two // three // four // five // six // seven // eight // nine // ten // eleven // twelve // thirteen // fourteen // fifteen

if you want to be added to the taglist you can comment under any part/this post or send me an ask/message :)

[throneofsapphics]

guidelines

-requests: open but may take some time! smut will be marked (*) -taglists: if you'd like to be added for a series, you can comment under any post/message/send me an ask -characters I write for are here -feedback is welcome and my inbox is always open to chat <3 thank you so much for being here!

masterlists

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crescent city bonus chapters

walmart target books a million barnes and noble

[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part 10

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again after seven years, and deal with the fall-out of a secret. 

Warnings: mentions of drinking, panic attack, references to death, child labor 

Word Count: ~4.5k

A/N: I promise I've started on part 11! I appreciate all of your love on this series <3 it seriously means the world to me

series masterlist

Fenrys, sat to your right, was watching you. He was subtle, others wouldn’t notice - perhaps except Rowan or Aelin, but you felt his attention on you, like he knew something was wrong. The bastard probably did. 

The encounter had rattled you. Especially because the male was still sitting further down the table. You’d done a good job of ignoring him for the most part, even though his attention wandered your way several times. Earlier, you’d been correct assuming it was a personal matter, because he didn’t bring up a single thing related to an artifact causing trouble, or your bloodline. Not even a hint of it. 

Yes, his questions had unnerved you, but the memory moreso. You’d kept your oath, but you tried not to think of him. It had been years, but the pain and loss still felt like yesterday, the scar still felt fresh, guilt and horror threatened to overwhelm you - 

A warm hand on your knee, a small squeeze. Fenrys. A scan of the table showed nobody looking closely at you, good - it would’ve been embarrassing and unprofessional if you’d spaced out while a question was asked. 

Trying not to count down the seconds, you did your best to hang on to every word, to listen intently, but your mind scrambled. A glass of wine, maybe a good book, and sleep was desperately needed. 

With Fenrys next to you like a guard dog, he only shot you a look, probably meant to be some kind of promise of a future conversation. You’d need a good amount to avoid him, and lately your luck has been running terrifyingly low. 

Waiting an appropriate amount of time after the meeting concluded - mainly until he left the room, you beelined for the door. A broad back cut you off, Fenrys asking some kind of question you couldn’t hear through the ringing in your ears, the pure panic rising in your lungs. 

Vaguely aware of the empty room surrounding you, Rowan’s face loomed in front of yours, his mouth forming words you couldn’t hear or comprehend. Chest caving, each breath felt like a chore, the sharp pain of your nails in your palm couldn’t distract you, couldn’t break you out, you were suffocating, drowning - one hand squeezed your shoulder, another gripping your chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze. 

“Breathe,” you read his lips, the movement of his mouth slow and exaggerated. “You’re safe.” 

His hand enveloped yours, drawing it up towards his chest. The grip on your chin didn’t move, forcing you to look at him to focus on the steady beat of his heart under your palm, the exaggerated rising and falling of his chest, the way his hand still covered your own. Slowly, the ringing subsided, your breaths growing easier. 

“Good?” He asked, and you hated the gentleness in his voice. You replied with a terse nod. Rowan studied you for a few moments, and unlike yourself you squirmed under the scrutiny, shifting back and forth on your feet. 

“Alright,” he said slowly, releasing your chin, lowering your hand back to your side. He strode back towards the door, jerking his head, speaking lowly enough your Fae hearing couldn’t catch the words. Fenrys strode back in, his face unusually severe. The door shut with a soft snick, a comforting shield of wind surrounding the room. You were too overloaded to add your own magic. 

Fenrys looked concerned, but you shook your head, “I'm fine.” 

“Then what the hell happened before?” At least Fenrys got straight to the point.

“Someone just … asked something that rattled me,” you hedged, leaning back against the table, crossing your arms, trying to buy yourself some time to find a way to explain it that wouldn’t make them overreact. Logically, you knew it was too late for that. 

“You don’t get rattled,” Rowan crossed his arms. Technically, that was a compliment. You glanced at Fenrys, like he might make some kind of joke, but his face was nearly as serious as Rowan’s. Two walls of unrelenting and overbearing male arrogance. “Who?” 

“Does it matter?” 

Neither male bothered responding. Running fingers through your hair, you told him, and added “it wasn’t exactly a threat.” 

‘Exactly’, was your mistake. 

“Tell me everything.” The demand in Rowan’s tone, the sheer sense of authority and arrogance, made you prickle but … this time you gave in and recited the conversation. 

“What do you think he’s looking for?” Fenrys asked before Rowan could get a word.. 

“I don’t know. I don’t want to know.” The second part wasn’t necessarily true. He’d peaked your curiosity, hit that lingering sense of guilt perfectly - as if he already knew how to work you. But, curiosity killed the cat - you wouldn’t make that mistake. 

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” Rowan said, glancing up at the clock. Another meeting would start soon - one should probably be at. “Stay here for the night.” 

“Right where he is?” You raised your brows. 

“Right where we are,” he corrected. 

“I’m not that scared.” 

“So you admit you’re scared?” 

“Oh fuck off,” you snapped at him. 

“We fought with that male,” Rowan snarled, “we’re well aware of what he’s capable of.” 

Of course they had. You caught Fenrys’s nod from the corner of your eye. 

“And I’m more than capable of protecting myself. Find someone else to be a fussy bastard to.”

“I care about your safety,” he gritted his teeth, “is that so wrong?” 

Damn you, something inside of you softened and you hated yourself for it. 

“It’s safer for me to be at home.” 

“Safer for who?” The edge in Rowan’s voice grew, “because I know damn well you’re trying to draw a threat away from the castle.” Away from Ceri was implied. He probably didn’t know it, but you wanted it away from him too. From him, Aelin, Fenrys, all of the people you cared about. You couldn’t argue. 

“Don’t fucking underestimate me.” 

He laughed roughly, “trust me, I’m not.”

“Then don’t try to coddle me,” your left fist clenched. 

“It’s common sense, not coddling.” 

Fenrys’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of you, and you threw your head back in a groan. 

“If anything happens tonight, even if I get a bad feeling, I'll come back here,” you said with enough finality and sincerity that the males very begrudgingly agreed. “I’m going home now,” you sidestepped Fenrys, skirted around Rowan, the shield of wind falling, and strode out of the door. 

-

Rowan hadn’t slept well since you left the night before. You showed face yesterday, probably just to assure him and maybe prove a point, but the Akkadian contingent would be present for two more days. He told Aelin, of course, and had to be the reasonable one to prevent her from doing an interrogation of her own. She’d agreed, already knowing there was a close eye kept on them. But, it was near impossible to keep track of everyone entering or leaving without raising suspicion. 

Quarter to midnight, just when he figured he should try and get some sleep, and kick the rest of the Court out, Halle appeared with a … piece of paper between her teeth. She jumped directly on him, claws digging in, dropping the paper, hissing when he didn’t immediately grab it. He took the hint, and didn’t hesitate before unfolding it. 

I’m going to have company soon. If you and Aelin attend, it’ll raise too many suspicions, and it’s the dead of night. Send Fenrys? I’ll stay in until then. 

Gods, you planned on confronting him. The words were scribbled quickly, letters shaky, ink blotted in a few areas. 

He tossed it to Fenrys, who caught it between two fingers - glancing once curiously at the cat, her keen eyes now fixed on him. Attending. You said nothing about a hawk keeping watch from the sky. Besides, you’d said ‘you and Aelin,’ not ‘you or.’ Aelin would be pissy she needed to stay here, but if they were both absent from the castle …  

Sometimes, Rowan missed when he wasn’t King, when he could confront a problem like this without having to worry about political repercussions, when he lived somewhere there were few laws against murder. 

He flew above Fenrys - taking a back exit from the castle, sticking to secluded areas. Somehow, the giant white wolf went unnoticed. Perhaps because it was a Friday night, and the current areas they ran through were nearly abandoned. 

Regardless, he scouted the way ahead, spotting the two males just a fifteen minute walk from your house now. It was obvious they didn’t know exactly where they were going, but Fenrys should arrive with a few minutes to spare. He knew you’d notice his presence, and he’d avoid showing his face to keep your wrath away. 

He momentarily forgot keeping your wrath away as he watched you slip past the wards and shift. Then - disappeared. Catching a draft, he set out to intercept Fenrys. 

-

You’d lied to them unintentionally, the decision made last minute, a switch, but it was the … choice that felt right, a warm hand on your shoulder - a feminine voice in the back of your ear, guiding you. Slipping past the words, sending silent apologies to the night, you shifted. 

It was easy enough to track their magic, moving in between the folds of time and space. Harder, was deciding the best way to ‘run into’ their path. 

Pinching your cheeks until they flushed red, hands shoved into pockets, head down, senses awake - a slight sway in your step, humming a tune frequently played in Terrasen’s taverns, you turned the corner and let the threads of fate throw you to the wolves. 

“Oh,” you laughed, stumbling back a few steps, brushing hair away from your face, “didn’t think I’d see you again today. Your voice carried over the wind, although you spoke a tad louder than necessary. The location was empty, but not abandoned. Probably not where they would’ve chosen. It felt important that you chose the place. “Convenient, finding you here.” 

“Convenient, indeed,” the predatory gleam in his eyes raised the hair on the back of your neck. Still, stupid male. If he thought beyond whatever agenda he’s set on, he would’ve wondered how you ended up directly in his path. “There’s some things we’d like to discuss-”

“It’s past business hours, I’m afraid,” you yawned.

“We can keep this separate,” he purred and you fought the urge to gag. His friend was stone-faced. They looked similar enough they could be brothers or cousins. 

“What do you want?”

“Like I said,” he cleared his throat. “There’s an artifact causing trouble, we need your skillset to track it down.” 

He said it as if it was a done thing, like you’d agree in an instant. “I’m not the person you’re looking for.” 

“Andal said you were.” 

You paled, all of the color flushing from your skin. He couldn’t see it, in the dark, but the silence probably told him he’d hit the mark. Nothing was telling you to run, nothing pushing you away from this - although you wished it would. Deny, deny, deny, was the safe choice but … you had to get to the bottom of this one way or another. Worst case, you shift and disappear. Hopefully. 

“If Andal said,” you pretended to think about it, just for a moment, tapping your fingers on your thigh, before shaking your head “it doesn’t matter, I’m out of business.” 

“This is urgent,” his friend, stone-man, growled.

“Oh he speaks,” you teased. 

“It’s one of the -” his words froze mid-sentence, a pulse of ancient and near primal magic weaving into the space.

Fenrys nearly bowled you over - stumbling, bracing his hand on your shoulder. “Quit leaving me behind,” he huffed out a laugh. An icy and familiar wind brushed against your cheek. 

Immense relief filled you, although you were seconds away from getting the information you wanted. “My bad,” you shot him a smile. 

Nearly imperceptibly, his fingers tightened around your shoulder as he straightened, examining the two males in front of you. Males he already knew were there. Still, you were impressed by his acting. 

“New friends?” He drawled. You shrugged, but didn’t shake off his hand, and he didn’t move it. 

“They were asking for my advice,” you cleared your throat - after an uncomfortable minute of silence. 

“Advice that cannot wait until tomorrow?” 

There was an underlying threat in his words, a slight change in tone, and with it the air filled with tension - suffocating, like all of their magics rose to the surface, postures tense and ready to snap at any minute. 

“I’m sure it can wait,” the male said roughly, jerking his chin towards his friend, as they both strode down the street - back towards the castle. “I’ll be in touch,” he called over his shoulder. Fenrys stiffened, but you didn’t bother replying. 

You and Fenrys waited until they were out of hearing range, and then a few minutes longer for good measure. At this point, you knew Fenrys well enough to tell when he was furious. 

Clearing the city streets, shadows of the stress covering the two of you, you finally spoke, “I’d almost figured out what -”

A flash of light came from your right, you pivoted, faced with an angry silver-haired male, mouth frozen mid-sentence,  “I’d ask what the hell you were thinking,” he snarled, “but it’s obvious you weren’t.” 

“I was thinking I’d keep those bastards from finding my gods-damned house,” you hissed. 

“How do you know you’re not leading them right back to your gods-damned home?” Fenrys said, his dark eyes flashing.  

Fixing him with a sharp look, you didn’t bother answering. 

One, you’d be able to tell. 

Two, it felt like an insult to your intelligence. 

Three, they weren’t stupid enough to follow if Fenrys was with you. 

You considered telling them to piss off, but knew it would be pointless. Tense, angry silence filled the walk back to your home. 

The wards were heavy, thick magic pulsing, enveloping you the closer you got. It might be uncomfortable to the others, but for you it felt like a hug - like it was singing and welcoming you home, magic reaching out with small threads to tug you into its embrace. You realized that the density of magic might be a beacon, and made a note in your mind to possibly research a way to obscure it. 

Running your finger down the invisible wall, a sliver appeared - just big enough to slip through as, snapping back into place as soon as you passed the threshold. 

The silence carried until you were inside, all sitting stiffly on the various couches and chairs. None of you bothered to appear at ease. 

Rowan’s hand slipped into his pocket, pulling a familiar slip of paper out, holding it between two fingers. Dramatically, he unfolded it and read; 

“I’ll stay in until then,” a breeze floated the page towards you, and you batted it away. A streak of orange, and Halle caught it between her teeth, shaking it in her jaws like a dog. She looked up at you and hissed. A small smile curved on your lips. Reaching a hand out, she rubbed her head along your fingers, lifting her chin for a scratch. A minute passed, and it appeared the two males were waiting for you to break the silence this time. You forced yourself to lean back, the armchair big enough for Halle to jump up and settle next to you, one paw batting at you when you dared to stop petting her.

“Do you ever feel like some kind of God or Goddess is watching over you?” 

“Aelin killed them,” Fenrys deadpanned, Rowan cut a glare at him. That, you didn’t know, but as Rowan’s glare turned on you, you decided it was best to ask that question later. 

“It’s like a warm hand on my shoulder,” you continued, “or a voice, nudging me. It hasn’t failed me before, and today felt like a bad time to test it.”

“You couldn’t have found me?” Fenrys asked, “maybe waited until you weren’t alone to confront them?” 

“I should’ve,” scratching the back of your neck, you avoided his gaze.You were old enough to admit when you’d done something stupid, to realize you had indeed fucked up, even if you hated doing it. “Look,” you let out a slow breath, “this is very … personal.” 

Silence. 

“If I'm going to explain this, Aelin really should be here,” you mumbled. She could easily hear from Rowan, or you could tell the story twice, but you wanted her here. Something about her presence soothed an edge, made dark parts of the past more bearable. 

Rowan stood. “I doubt she’s sleeping,” he said mildly, a glint in his eyes. “I saw you shift earlier, it shouldn’t take long to get there.” 

Fighting the urge to snarl or stomp, you lead the way out the door. “I’ll walk,” you called over your shoulder. Mainly because it would piss his impatient ass off. Based on his snarl, it did. 

Rowan snarled as you took off without him, sending a grin over your shoulder. His eyes rolled, but within a few strides he’d caught up to you. 

“Walking me home?” You teased, “how kind of you.” He gently shoved his shoulder into yours. “Really,” you huffed, “I’ll be fine.” 

“It’ll make me feel better,” he countered, and that was the end of the argument. You’d refused to shift and head back, anyway. You didn’t show your animal form to anyone. Even him. 

“I’ll go with you,” Fenrys quickly caught up to you, walking shoulder to shoulder as the memory faded, “we might run into them again.” 

A flash of light, a shriek from a hawk, and Rowan headed off, likely to warn Aelin. 

Ten minutes into the walk, the silence was getting to your head. 

“What is it?” 

“I’ve never wanted to be back in Doranelle,” Fenrys said quietly, “but there, I could’ve just killed them.” 

“Murder isn’t always the answer,” you snorted, and finally had the courage to look him in the eyes. He was fighting a smile. Throwing your head back, a slightly-incredulous, probably insane sounding laugh bubbled from your chest. 

-

“Some of the objects my ancestors made had uses they didn’t expect, and ended up with the wrong people,” you tapped your fingers against your legs, Aelin tried not to make it obvious she was hanging onto every word. “There’s a sense of … responsibility that comes with it. To destroy them, I suppose. There was never enough time to properly explain it.”

Sounds like bullshit, Aelin thought, but kept listening. 

“Few know how to use Wyrdmarks, and very few have the magic to strengthen or infuse them. Some can catch traces of those objects - track them. Not all of my ancestors were angelic, some tracked them down - either to use themselves or sell to the highest bidder,” disgust filled each word as you spat them out. “I was warned that not all will have bad intentions, but even the best intentions can be skewed by greed,” that phrase came out like a quote, one you’d memorized years ago, stored in the back of your mind - perhaps as a reminder. This was mostly information they’d been able to piece together, and Aelin waited for the other side, for whatever big secret you’d been holding onto. 

“It would be good to know what they're looking for, specifically.” Rowan looked ready to interrupt, but Aelin held up a hand. “Then I'll know their intentions. “I’d almost figured that out earlier,” you shot what was probably supposed to be an annoyed look at Fenrys, but she caught the hint of gratitude. As you turned back to them, a hint of guilt hit her at the exhaustion in your face, at the fear in your eyes. 

“I was nine, stuck on the streets. Someone found me, told me if I helped them out they’d make sure I was taken care of. I worked for them for five years, and did whatever they told me to. I knew I'd get fed, a warm bed, and a few marks here and there - to a kid it felt like riches. My … handler, you could say, had an idea of what my magic could do. Eventually my great uncle found me and dragged me out of it.” You ran a hand over your face. “That’s why they’re asking for help, because they know I’ve done it before.” 

“Andal?” Rowan asked quietly. He must’ve overheard that. All Aelin could think of was that word you used; handler. As the name Andal rolled around in her mind, it sounded eerily like Arobynn. Still, she focused on you - your expression, the paleness of your skin, the mixture of anger and fear flashing at the name, fists clenching slightly, shoulders tensing, feet pressing firmer into the ground - like you were ready to launch into a fight. Aelin understood how a name could trigger such a visceral reaction. 

“I fell for his trap and promises, I was so naive,” 

“You were a child,” Rowan insisted. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

“Part of me always knew it was wrong, but I was so-” your head snapped towards the door, and seconds later a very insistent knock interrupted. Ceri. Rowan’s shield of wind, and one of whatever your magic was, parted and the door flew open. 

Ceri sprinted through the room, launching herself into your arms. 

“You’re here,” she shrieked. Excitement. A smile naturally spread over your face, the tension of the previous conversation put aside as Ceri recounted the past day's events, settling herself next to you on the couch as you watched with rapt attention - cutting in at all of the perfect moments.

It had been a long week and … Aelin realized the two of you didn’t get to spend much time together. She exchanged a glance with Rowan, and they both silently rose, murmuring a good night, before leaving. They’d get up early to talk in the morning. 

-

Ceri spared no detail, and talked until her eyes started closing, yawns interrupting her words. 

“Why don’t you tell me more in the morning?” You asked gently. 

Her lips pursed, like that was the last thing she wanted to do, but she eventually nodded. She stood, her small hand latching onto your wrist, and dragged you both towards your bedroom. It had been years since she insisted on sleeping in your bed, but you didn’t question it. After tonight, you wanted her close. 

The next morning, thank the gods, nobody woke you up at the ass crack of dawn. In fact, a tray of food waited just outside of your door, all of your favorites and Ceri’s. After discerning it wasn’t poison, you brought it in. 

A few cups of tea later and you felt ready to continue last night’s conversation. Partially. None of this way easy to talk about, and you supposed that was a good thing. 

‘As a child,’ Rowan had said. Sure, you’d been young and naive, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you should’ve known better. ‘Nobody was there to teach you, it’s not your fault,’ a voice that sounded eerily like Aelin’s countered in the back of your mind. 

Ceri left reluctantly, making you promise to spend another night at the castle. It was an easy promise to give, you’d missed her after all. 

As soon as the three of you sat, you said the words you’d rehearsed in your head all morning. “Before we get into … that situation,” you cleared your throat, fighting the tightening sensation. “Whatever it is between us,” you’d caught their attention, both staring at you with keen eyes, “I want it - if you still do. To figure it out when we have time.” 

“I still want it,” Aelin’s mouth curved up at one corner, the mirth in her eyes bringing a pink flush to your cheeks. Rowan met your gaze, pine-green eyes flashing with rare emotion, and nodded. You didn’t need words from him, the look said everything. 

“How dangerous are these objects?” Rowan cleared his throat. Aelin rolled her eyes. 

“Depends on who has them, and if they know what they’re doing.” You realized that was uninformative, and explained, “most of them can capture traces of magic, in some way or form. With enough exposure and time, they can be quite destructive.” 

“You said you helped hunt them, did they ask anything else of you?” 

You nodded, throat constricting, and forced the next words out, “I was a kid who didn’t know what she was doing. I appeased them, changing small marks, making things up, but I really had no idea. I still don’t know what I changed, or what they can do now.” 

“I’ll take care of it.” Aelin said, firmly. 

“It’s not your -” 

“My responsibility, I know,” she waved her hand, “but I want to.” 

The way she said ‘want’ implied she would, whether you liked it or not. You’d learned, over the last few years, that Aelin can be quite good at getting what she wants. Still, you didn’t want to roll over for her. 

“I always pictured myself going on a … quest, some day,” you let out a low, dead, laugh. “When Ceri was grown, hunting down all of the objects I messed with - destroying them.” 

“Getting revenge?” Rowan raised a brow. 

“Redemption,” you countered. He looked like he wanted to argue. “Besides,” you played with the hem of your tunic. “It’s what my uncle would’ve done.” 

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” He said quietly, not with pity, just framing a fact as a question. 

“Yes.” 

Another gods-damned sacrifice. All to keep you alive. All you could do was try to be worthy of it. 

“Ceri didn’t inherit my magic,” you said abruptly.

“I know,” Rowan replied. “Maybe your knack for sensing it, but not the actual magic.” 

“Sensing can be taught,” you replied. 

Aelin hummed. “What do you want to do about this?” 

A few blinks of surprise, but you leaned back. “Honestly? Forget it all happened.” Aelin snorted. “Practically, I should hear them out and figure out what I’m dealing with.” 

“And put yourself in danger?” Aelin’s head tilted, her voice a tad too calm. 

“What if we make it an ‘official’ thing?” When neither outright objected, you continued, “do it during a meeting, make it public.” 

“Then you’ll expose yourself,” Rowan stated. You raised a brow, you already had - to them. “To everyone,” he added. 

“Not necessarily,” you brushed the non-existent dirt off your pants. “I can give them my useless ‘notes’ on the subject,” you’d never intended to give them material that would actually help. “If they try for specifics, clarify what they’re looking for, others will start suspecting them, and I doubt that’s what they want.” 

“How will that tell you what they want?” 

“They’re arrogant and obviously desperate,” you shrugged. “They’ll get irritated, find me, and tell me.” 

“Your plan is to piss them off?” Fenrys looked at you like he prayed you were joking. 

-

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[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part seven

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary:  you and Rowan meet again after seven years, and deal with the fall-out of a secret. 

Warnings: mentions of death, drinking, flashbacks/ptsd

Word Count: ~6k 

A/N: we’re starting to pick up a bit now! some time skips

series masterlist 

Seven days in the castle. You enjoyed breakfasts with Aelin and whatever members of her court were around, evenings with Fenrys and co, more chances to interact with Ceri and her friends, free time to try and figure out your damn way around the city, but you were going crazy. Surrounded by people at all times, even if they were kind, exhausted you. 

As much as you tried, there wasn’t a truly private place in this castle. Maybe it was paranoia, but you knew someone could always be watching - there could always be eyes. 

But, there was a pattern. Halle would be on edge if someone was nearby, if there were prying ears, and she only fell into a deep sleep if it was the two of you - or if it seemed private enough. You trusted her judgment. The judgment of a cat. Then again, she wasn’t an ordinary cat. 

She had her own kind of magic. That’s a secret you decided to keep as long as possible. Even if magic was freely accepted here, her kind could easily make her a target. 

For gods sake she was buddies with fleetfoot. Aelin had been worried in the beginning, but her dog bounded right up to Halle. 

Fleetfoot sniffed, tilted her head, and licked Halle’s face. The cat didn’t hiss or swipe, instead headbutting her. 

Aelin gave you an incredulous look. 

“She’s never met a dog.” 

“Fleetfoot usually doesn’t make friends with cats,” Aelin turned back towards the duo, “you’re special Halle.” A small purr, and yellow eyes stared right at her, as if to say; ‘obviously.’ 

Aelin snorted and shook her head, ‘if Fleetfoot’s on her side, nobody should bother her.” 

‘I’d like to see them try,’ the small hiss said. Seemed to say, you corrected yourself. The two of you couldn’t communicate, but it was easy enough to read her expressions. 

One hand holding up your book, she rested in your lap. Rowan was in the room, sitting across from you, just having finished up Ceri’s bedtime story for the day. Another change over the last week, you’d gotten comfortable being in a room alone with them. Not that it had been necessarily uncomfortable in the past, but you shed some of the fear of perception. If people read into it too much, that was on them. You knew your relationship with them, you knew you were only platonic. Those who paid attention would know that too. 

-

 “There’s something .. off about that cat,” Rowan commented. He’d discreetly observed the two of you over the edge of a few reports he brought with him, intending to finish them as he waited for Ceri to fall asleep. There was only one left, and he figured he might as well get it done now. Abraxos’s story was requested again, and he didn’t have anything new to say. Like hell he’d write to Manon and ask. There would be a set of meetings and a ball hosted in Orynth the week after Beltane, and hopefully he could convince her not to ask during that. He didn’t know the witch well enough to tell how she’d react. Maybe she’d find it amusing, as far as he remembers witches were always protective of young ones. The nations of Erilea, and sometimes contingents from other countries, met once every two years, and it was Orynth’s turn to host this year. It would be interesting, convincing you to attend alongside Ceri. 

Yellow eyes peeked up, Halle’s fur standing up, as if she’d heard the insult and taken it personally. 

“Be nice,” you whispered, running your fingers through her fur. The little demon settled instantly, purring on your lap. There was definitely something off about that cat. Almost like it had purposefully found you. Ceri had seemed a bit put out that the cat liked you more than her. But, with your animal form it was to be expected. He’d never tell you this, not yet at least, but there was a small betting pool running for which form your daughter would take. Avian, or feline. 

On their visit to Antica, he’d met some of the baast cats in the library of the Torre Cesme. More he thought about it, he’d never actually seen your animal form. 

“Can you … talk to her?” 

“Obviously,” you grinned, “I just told her to be nice.” 

Rowan rolled his eyes, you knew what he meant. 

“As a cat,” he drawled, raising a brow at you. 

“Why would I spill our secrets to you?” 

“So you can?” He knows cats communicate with each other in some way, Gods know birds do. Not that he’d ever tell Aelin that, she’d be relentless. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I haven’t shifted around her yet.”

“When was the last time you shifted?” 

“Probably too long,” you absentmindedly stroked the little creature. Who looked asleep, but Rowan got the inkling she was faking it. 

Initially, there was a slight fear you’d bring a shifter with you, but he realized quickly you would’ve caught on to that. Above all, he trusted you and your judgment. Rowan trusted you’d never do anything to endanger Ceri, but recognized you’d easily throw yourself into any kind of danger if it meant protecting her. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how much you’d sacrificed for her … how much you’d sacrificed for Ceri, and something about it didn’t sit right with him. 

-

Fenrys insisted on a house-warming party. You wanted to call it ridiculous, but you’d never had something like this before, and you gave into his badgering. It didn’t take too much effort on his part, but you let him annoy you about it a bit. That way he’d feel like he accomplished something. 

One month after you moved in, you finally hosted it. 

The party was small, and perfect. Rowan, Aelin, Fenrys, Aedion, Lysandra, Evangeline, who came to surprise Ceri, a friend you’d made, and Ceri’s three closest friends. 

A bit of poking around, a few questions to Aedion, and you learned the three of them were orphans. A piece of your heart shattered. 

Edde and Edie, twins, and their cousin Elias. All Fae, all lived at the castle most of their lives - long enough they didn’t remember anything else. They all wanted to train as warriors, even though they were barely eleven. You and Fenrys, acting like gossiping mothers, had easily figured out why they attached themselves to Ceri. Fae recognize power, and something inside them would’ve drawn them to that wild magic. Ceri was powerful, there was no denying that. Reaching her father’s levels, and maybe passing it one day. Sensing that type of power was right up your alley. 

Fenrys pressed a mug of, you looked down into the cup, catching a drift of the sweet honey - mead, into your hands. You took it with a grateful grin. As much as you loved wine, mead was your favorite. But, it was expensive and sometimes difficult to find. Instead of chugging it, you let yourself savor every drop. 

Ines sidled up next to you as Fenrys walked away. All it took was a drunk night together for you to count her as one of your closest friends. She was in a similar situation to you, a daughter - but her father lived quite a distance away. In Eyllwe. She would spend winters down there, and summers up here. You were excited to meet her. A few years younger than Ceri, but you had an inkling she would take her under her wing. Only time would tell if your daughter was a good or bad influence. 

“You have a beautiful home,” she sighed, swirling her glass in one hand. Halle weaved around your feet, the little kitten had been growing, and fast. She’d been circling the house the entire time, judging all of the new visitors. For some reason, you got the impression she was assessing if they were worthy of being in their presence. A meow. The connection the two of you shared is not something to ponder right now. 

“Yours is just as pretty,” you countered. And it was - an elegant townhouse in the middle of the city. 

She hummed, and emptied her glass, nudging you with her elbow. “So, you and … Fenrys?” She hesitated, forcing herself not to put his title in front of his name. He hated that. 

“Friends,” you nudged her back. “And that's it,” you hoped you emphasized the last word enough. 

“I’m wounded,” the male said, before switching his gaze to Ines. “But yes, we are just friends.” 

Where had he come from? Either way, you were glad he came and backed you up. Otherwise, she may never have believed you.

Rowan, Aelin, and the others were currently being treated to prime entertainment by the four hellions. Probably just for the night, the cousins had shed their shy skin for the night, now re-enacting … some sort of game they played earlier. Evangeline was just as taken with the others as she’d been with Ani, and you watched how they already were latching onto her like an older sister. 

Another small pain in your chest, one another sip of mead washed away for the night. 

Now was as good of a time as any to pull out a little creation you’d been working on. Gods, you’d started this project nearly a year ago, and just now you’d finally gotten it right. 

-

Rowan watched as you quickly slipped out of the room, and debated following you. But, you returned quickly. A type of crystal now in your hand. Round, with a flat bottom, and … no, it was glass, encasing several different kinds of crystals, all carefully arranged to form symbols. And it swirled with magic, practically a beacon to anyone who knew what to look for. Apparently, it attracted his wife because she was at your side within moments, peering down at it curiously. 

“It can only play one long track,” you admitted. 

A track? Music? 

Placing it on a table, he watched as your eyes focused on it, fingers pressing against the glass. Normally you could do these types of things with just a thought, but maybe this one needed touch to work. 

Sure enough, a tune started playing through the room, and caught everyone’s attention. You turned red, the attention flustering you, but you quietly explained what it did. It captures and plays back music. Only one long track, this one about four hours before it would repeat. You’ve only made the one. 

The last statement, your left thumb and forefinger pressed together. One of your tells, you lied. Interesting. Something he could ask about later. Calling you out on bullshit was always amusing to him, as long as it was relatively harmless, of course.

“Took me over a year to get right,” he heard you tell Aelin. 

The music was from Antica - he knew that much. 

Aelin caught his eye, no dancing, he said quickly - anticipating her next question. 

A large sigh and roll of her eyes, but she turned back to you instead. 

-

The party went well, as well as you could’ve predicted. By eight, it began to split up. The three “E’s,” as they’d been nicknamed that night, and Evangeline would spend the night. There was plenty of room, and you liked a full house. 

Rowan, Aelin, and Fenrys stuck around as the others left. Lysandra promised to get your drunk friend home in one piece. Now, you all splayed out on the couches. Fenrys shared one with you, your legs currently thrown over his lap as you stretched out. One hand rested on your shin, and the other propped up behind his head. The portrait of casual arrogance. 

“This was fun,” you commented, stealing a glance at Aelin and Rowan. Their positions nearly mirrored your own, Aelin stretched out like a cat on the other couch, but with Rowan’s hand resting on the inside of her knee. 

“Oh absolutely. We should do it again.” 

“I do not want to move houses anytime soon,” you groaned. 

Fenrys poked you, “not every party has to be a housewarming one.” He caught your ankle as you brought your leg back to try and kick him. “Slow,” he tutted, and you rolled your eyes, accepting the failure. 

It’s true, the alcohol and fatigue was delaying all of your reactions. 

“A question, for you, y/n,” the look in his eyes promised trouble. 

“Oh no.” 

-

“Find anyone to warm your bed this winter?” Fenrys teased. That comment caught Aelin and Rowan’s attention. Rowan was proud you managed to land a kick on him, even if he didn’t react, he fought the urge to glare at Fenrys. “Ines is quite pretty,” he added.  

“It’s none of your business,” you rolled your eyes, “but no, I haven’t, and Ines is just a friend, with no interest in women or females.” Rowan shouldn’t have felt that relieved, the relief flew out the window with what she said next. “I suppose it’s never too late.” 

“That’s more like it,” Fenrys grinned - ignoring Aelin’s frown. He tried very hard to keep his face neutral. 

“I don’t think I’ll get involved with anyone until Ceri’s a bit more grown up. At least seriously.” 

“You’re really going to be single for that long?” Fenrys countered. 

“We’re immortal,” she huffed. “Can we not talk about this?” If Rowan didn’t know better, he’d think you were avoiding looking at the two of them. Actually, looking anywhere but at them. 

“I’m trying to be helpful. You look like you need a good fuck.” 

“Fenrys. Shut. Up,” Aelin looked ready to throw a fiery dagger at him, and he only shrugged. 

“Just pointing out the obvious.” 

Even if a very drunk Aelin, who didn’t remember it the next day, admitted she really liked you, you were off-limits. Painfully off-limits, and not shown a hint of interest in them. He’d settle for - no, it wasn’t settling if there was no interest there on his end. He’d be your friend. Rowan liked being your friend. Friends were good, and friends was safe. The last thing he needed was for this to get messy. 

-

“There’s going to be a ball, around beltane,” Aelin commented casually, carefully watching your reaction. 

“Do we need to go dress shopping for Ceri?” 

“For you and Ceri.” You paled, and she heard your heartbeat quicken. Your mouth parted, before closing again. Of all the things to make you speechless, it was this. “We’d like for both of you to come,” she added gently. 

“Who … who will be there?” 

“Every two years, the countries on Erilea meet for meetings. Sometimes countries too, and there’s always a ball. Music, food, dancing.” 

Your entire arm began to shake. She held on tightly to your hand, felt your palm beginning to sweat. Your eyes glazed, and Aelin began to panic. The door swung open, revealing Rowan. He looked between the two of you, and crossed the room. Slowly, he knelt in front of you, taking your hand, disentangling Aelin’s fingers from yours. He called your name, over and over again. 

“You’re in Terrasen. You’re in Orynth.” 

“What triggered it?” He met Aelin’s eyes, not releasing his grip on your hands. 

“I asked about the ball.” 

Rowan swore lightly under his breath. 

You were still shaking, eyes still glazed over, lips starting to turn blue. He gathered both of your hands in one, the other gripping your chin, squeezing enough so your lips parted. She felt his magic swirling, forcing air into your lungs. 

You jolted, as if you were transported back to your body. Rowan hadn’t released his grip on your hands, and good thing because you looked ready to swing at him. Shaking, but eyes now clear, you looked around the room, studied their faces. 

“I should go,” you murmured. 

“You’re not going anywhere until you’re feeling better.” 

Narrowed eyes stared at Rowan, and he stared right back. You didn’t argue, perhaps sensing this was a fight you wouldn’t win. 

She felt the instincts flaring in him, in herself, the instinct to protect someone they claimed as their own. Friend or other, if someone was defenseless, vulnerable … it was normal amongst Fae to feel this. She had before for friends, but maybe not to this level. 

-

“It happened once, when we were together,” Rowan said, after you’d fallen asleep - curled up right on their couch. Your eyes started drooping, falling quickly into sleep, and Rowan showed no inclination of wanting to move you back to your rooms, instead they carefully arranged you into a more comfortable position, tucking a blanket over you. 

Like before, you weren’t able to give a solid reason why. He’d ask again tomorrow, and maybe things would be a bit clearer for you. 

Rowan knew this happened before, and he was running through the circumstances, trying to pick out similarities. 

“A friend invited me to a ball,” you commented absentmindedly. He knew you weren’t fishing for jealousy, you were just bringing up something going on in your life - something on your mind. 

“Oh?” Rowan ran his hand up and down your bare back. “Are you going?” 

“I’m not sure. I’m not the best person to bring to those.” 

Rowan doubted that, and called it. “Bullshit.” 

He felt more than saw your scowl. “I don’t like them.” 

“That’s better,” he teased. “Why?” 

“Bad memories.” 

That peaked his interest. You rarely mentioned the past, and he always wanted to know more - maybe because of that, you were somewhat of a mystery. “Want to share?” He asked. You froze. 

The only similarities were the ball. 

Rowan cursed under his breath as you shook in your sleep. 

-

A ball! It was magical, and beautiful. Males and females dressed up, and your mother had made you a pretty blue dress for it. Everyone’s attention was on your father, but you didn’t mind - it gave you time to observe everyone. 

You were still thinking about it as you all trotted up towards your house, still in Fae form. You’d set off too early in your opinion, but it was smart to travel by daylight. You were glad you’re old enough to travel in Fae form. Carriages were much less fun.

You still carried your pack on your back as you shifted back, dumping it in your bedroom before hurrying back for breakfast. The dagger you got for your birthday was still strapped to your thigh, but you didn’t mind now. 

Their faces were grave, and your mother crouched before you, gripping your shoulders. “I need you to run for the hills. Leave, do not look back.” 

“But -,” looking out the window - the wards were strong, but hundreds and hundreds of soldiers were quickly descending, as if they’d been hiding and waiting for your return. It was easy enough to sense out who they were. Mortal soldiers, without magic. “I can help,” you insisted. 

“If you die too,” the first tears left your cheeks, “then they win. Do you understand?” 

You shook your head. 

“They want to kill us, to kill your father and wipe our bloodline. To wipe our magic out.” 

Her eyes said; you’re the only hope, you’re our legacy.

A few more convincing words from both of your parents, and you ran for the hills. As soon as you tried to turn back, the wards were melded around you. To keep you away from any threats. 

Absolutely useless, but you forced yourself to watch as it happened. As they finally fell, as their heads were staked on the fence posts. The soldiers remained, but you could out wait them. You could memorize their faces, memorize the way they spoke, commit it to memory and find your vengeance one day. 

“Terrasen,” a familiar voice interrupted, “You’re in Orynth.” 

“Safe,” another said. Female. 

A memory, that’s what it was. You weren’t trapped in that moment, you could come back to the present. There was nothing holding you here, not now. 

“Good,” the male voice coaxed as your body relaxed, as you leaned into the sensations around you. Blanket, hands gripping yours, pine, snow, jasmine, and lemon verbena, the feeling of ancient magic - of fire, ice, wind, and a hint of water. Eventually, you managed to open your eyes. 

“I need you to tell us where you went,” Rowan said, even adding, “please, y/n.” 

How often had he said your names? How often does he say please? Words were effort, but when he asked so nicely, you could share. Trust, you reminded yourself. The small thread, a sign of the Goddess who watched over you, tugged and encouraged you. 

“The night before my parents died,” your voice was hoarse, your throat aching - like something dry had been shoved down it. “We were at a ball. We arrived home that morning, and they were waiting for us. Surrounded.” 

“When your parents died?” Aelin asked quietly. 

It hurt, gods it hurt so fucking much, but you told her the story - as much as you could manage, and she listened intently. Thankfully, there was no pity in her eyes - understanding, instead. That was much more palpable. 

-

Rowan thought he experienced the same thing as Aelin. When you shared the story about the dagger, but this time it was directed towards him. The entire time you shared, your eyes never drifted from him. 

A show of trust to him, and he’d take that gift and hold it close. Your trust was difficult to earn, and relatively easy to break. He’d treat it with caution, like he would any treasure. 

He was glad Aelin didn’t give away that he’d already told her the story. His wife was a good actress, and it shoved. The small bit of trust you showed him made him feel like a hypocrite. At the time, telling Aelin about your past felt essential, but now it resembled something of a betrayal. 

-

“How are you going to explain my presence?” 

Rowan and Aelin exchanged a glance, one that told you they’d already discussed this. Not surprising. 

“Even without the ball,” he emphasized, “we considered asking if you’d like to be an advisor to the court.” He held up a hand as your lips parted, and damn you, your mouth shut on instinct. At least he didn’t seem to gloat about it. “The wards around Orynth could use another look, and you have unique skills and expertise.” 

They actually value your opinion, you reminded yourself.  

“You swear it, without the ball you still would’ve?” You’re not sure why, but it really mattered to you. 

“I swear it.” 

Rowan’s promises are as good as gold when it comes to him, so you gave your agreement. Then started to plan what you’d do about the castle and city wards. Of course, you’d already had time to think about it. 

The ball would occur a week after beltane this year, when the last of the snow was predicted to abate, making travel tolerable.  

Time passed quicker than you thought was possible. Ceri turned eleven, her birthday falling on the spring equinox this year. As her present, you let her pick out her chickens, and you and Rowan teamed up to start teaching her how to shift. An argument wouldn’t be right, but you did have a few disagreements over teaching styles. At least Aelin was on your side for that. 

Then, it was beltane. Early that morning, you and Ceri went out to leave some gifts for the little folk at the crosspaths near your home. She’d spent a good portion of the previous day helping you craft them. Surprisingly patient and focused. Maypoles had been raised, hawthorn bushes decorated, and piles of wood gathering on the field before the city, waiting to be set alight. 

You didn’t walk out with the Queen and King, by the time you arrived the fires were already burning. Ceri’s friends had come over before, for an early dinner, and now trailed together in a small pack. 

“You know your signal?” You murmured to your daughter. A burst of magic, one to let you know if she needed you, with three different levels of urgency. 

“Yes,” she grinned up at you. Ceri was quite proud of herself for mastering that - as she should be. 

“Go on, then.” 

The four raced off, weaving in and out of the fires, brief flashes of silver hair were like a beacon. Heads would turn as she passed, followed by small whispers. Ceri had adapted easily to those, thrilled by the attention, it was you that needed adjustment. Needed to stop giving a death stare to anyone who watched a few seconds too long.  

Fenrys found you first, hanging out towards the edge of the fires, fully content to observe and watch. 

He was not content with that, instead he dragged you right into the heart of the celebrations. 

Thankfully, Aelin and Rowan didn’t try to drag you into anything. It was a time for the people to speak with their Queen and King, and you had plenty of exposure to the pair. 

“How did you escape doing all of that?” You jerked your chin towards where they were speaking with another group. 

“I came early,” he shot you a grin. His attention wavered, and you knew exactly who was making her way across the field. 

Ines, all auburn hair, freckled skin, and bright green eyes, strode for both of you - cheeks already flushed. You didn’t miss how her heart rate picked up when she spotted who was next to you. 

“Do I need to give you two a moment?” You murmured under your breath. 

“We’ve had plenty of those.” 

You groaned. Suspicion is fine, but you didn’t need confirmation. 

Ines gripped your hand, “we’re jumping over one of them,” she announced, “for luck.” 

“I know what it’s for,” you let her drag you anyway. When was the last time you’d done this? Maybe the year before Ceri was born. 

Picking a medium low fire, the two of you gathered your skirts in one hand, still holding onto each other, and kicked your shoes away. 

“One,” She grinned at you. 

“Two,” you shot one back at her, eyes lighting up. 

“Three.” 

With surprising coordination, you both launched yourself over. Heat skimmed the bottom of your bare feet, but you made it over without any burns. Ines, thankfully, did as well. 

Laughing, arms wrapped around each other, it took you longer than you cared to admit to locate your shoes again. 

-

Rowan watched you jump over the fire with your friend, his mouth turning up at the corners. 

Of course, you had to pretend you didn’t know each other, but you’d been at the same beltane celebration before, and he had the pleasure of watching you jump over fires. At least you remembered to hold your skirts up. He had to suffocate the flames last time. 

Aelin tapped his shoulder, “I’d give her a seven out of ten.” 

A genuine laugh left him, and she wound her arm around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder. He never took these moments, these reminders of the peace they fought for. 

Neither did everyone gathered around them. 

-

The celebration lasted into early hours of the morning, and it was near three when the fires finally died down. You’d trusted Evangeline to escort Ceri and her friends back to the castle, and mentally prepared yourself to head home. There were plenty others flooding through the streets, so it shouldn’t be any issue. 

Somehow, you found yourself roped into going into the castle. Fenrys informed you that their Majesty and Highness wanted to see you, and him - of course. Aedion and Lysandra joined you - a few bottles of wine each, Rowan and Aelin coming shortly after. Gods, you could drink, but northerners were on another level. 

-

“Stay the night,” Aelin insisted. “There’s no need for you to traipse through the streets after dark.”

“Are you certain?” 

“Yes,” Rowan huffed, like it was ridiculous you were asking for confirmation. It really was, they wouldn’t have offered if they didn’t mean it. 

This was nice. Aelin never took these nights for granted. The beltane celebrations, seeing her people at peace, out and enjoying the traditions squashed by Adarlan for a decade. She loved that you were here now, that you’d been brought into their lives. Now, she could count you as one of the people closest to her, and gods she hoped you felt the same. 

They might not have convinced you to live in the castle, but having you spend a few nights here - she’d take it over nothing. Just having you in Orynth was heaven. 

Aelin decided the little bit of wine she had could explain these thoughts. Very inappropriate thoughts about you, about the mother of her mate’s child. She hated herself for reducing you to that, rejected the thought as soon as it drifted inside her mind. You were more than just a mother, even if you didn’t always see it that way. 

A foot nudged her leg, tracking her back to the present. 

“You’re staring,” Rowan murmured. You were caught up in conversation with Aedion, but Fenrys kept shooting Aelin wary looks. She didn’t bother trying to stare him down, only looking at Rowan, her eyes saying; sorry. 

Why? 

She’s very pretty, came out. She hadn’t had enough wine to blame these thoughts on. These were the thoughts of sober Aelin, just flowing more freely this time. 

His eyebrows flicked up in amusement, I’m aware. 

Right, he did put a baby in her. The thought didn’t make Aelin jealous, she almost wished she was there … 

“It’s so weird when the two of you do that,” Aedion’s voice cut her off. 

“Deal with it,” Rowan growled, before turning back to her. You should do something about that little crush of yours. 

Maybe I will. 

-

Rowan cut off the wine after another bottle, all but kicking Fenrys, Aedion, and Lysandra out. It was nearing five in the morning now, and even with nothing planned in the morning, it was getting late. Besides, he and Aelin wanted you in here - alone with them. When you rose to leave, Aelin grabbed onto your hand, tugging you back down. 

“Stay a while,” she insisted, squeezing your hand. Rowan carefully monitored your every reaction. Aelin wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into her side like she usually did. He didn’t think it was entirely romantic on your part, at least that you knew, but he saw how you practically purred with the touch, how much you loved it - acted like you needed it. Everything was going to plan. 

-

Aelin pulled away, and you frowned - instantly missing the warmth of her body. But, her hand trailed up your arm, stopping to cup your jaw. When you didn’t pull away, she wound another arm around your waist, tugging you closer, her eyes scanning your face. 

“Fuck it,” she muttered, and her hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling your lips to hers. 

At first, you froze. But when she didn’t stop, you followed her lead, falling into her rhythm for a few moments before reality caught up to you. With a gasp, you pulled away from her. 

She had a hungry look in her eyes, watching like she was waiting for a moment to pounce again, to take you back and claim you. No, no, no. You found Rowan’s eyes, an apology right on your lips, but a shake of his head stopped you as he stood, crossing the room to sit on your other side. His finger pressed against your cheek, turning you to face him. Even as he had your attention, he didn’t move his hand, only sliding it to cup your jaw. An intimate touch. Aelin’s arm was still wrapped around your waist. 

“Are you going to deny her, deny Aelin, what she wants?” This question felt like a trap. 

“Wh-what do you mean?” 

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” Rowan’s eyes lit with amusement - and something else, something familiar. Familiar enough it terrified you. 

Aelin twisted you, now so you faced Rowan, her other hand twining itself in your hair, tilting your head to the side. Her lips pressed against your neck, trailing up the side. Your head fell, granting her more access, a small whimper slipping past your lips. She didn’t bite, but nipped at the skin - right where your neck met your shoulder. Did she know how significant that was? Apparently so, because she chuckled behind you. 

She was purposefully holding you here. Keeping you where you’d lock eyes with Rowan, where he could watch the two of you. His knuckle grazed your cheekbone, a small ‘this is fine,’ and cemented it with a small nod. 

That was all you needed, before you twisted back around, letting Aelin’s lips meet your own. 

-

Aelin decided, first, that she’s very glad she did something about her ‘little crush.’ Next, she decided you were a fantastic kisser, and she needed to figure out how to repeat this experience. Preferably as often as possible. 

When you finally pulled away, desperately sucking in air, she took the chance to glance at Rowan. 

She’s good. His brows flicked, but he didn’t comment. Isn’t this the part where it’s your turn?

Aelin ran her thumb over your lips, keeping your attention on her while she waited for Rowan’s response. 

What do you think? She hadn’t heard him this unsure in a while. It was rather endearing, to see him caught off guard. 

Aelin looked back down to you - to your puffy lips and bright eyes, and lowered her voice. “Rowan wants to kiss you,” she said, and watched for your reaction. First, your eyes widened, and then you glanced over your shoulder quickly, before turning back to her. You wanted her permission. Maybe for her to make the choice for you. Something Aelin could easily do. 

“Are you going to deny him?” She teased, copying Rowan’s earlier words. A snort from behind her, but sure enough you were pulled away. Even Rowan had limits to his patience. 

Watching the two of you, how his hand gripped the back of your head, the other cupping your jaw, your arms hesitantly resting on his shoulders, Aelin realized she might be something of a voyeur. At least with the two of you. 

He took control, tilting your head exactly where he wanted you, and you easily followed. Seamlessly, effortlessly. Aelin felt like she was viewing a memory, something from deep in the past, and didn’t find herself jealous. 

You pulled away, “I think… I think that’s all I can handle for tonight.” 

Lips bruised, hair messed, and cheeks flushed, Aelin wanted to keep you here, but she wouldn’t push. 

-

Rowan ended up walking you back to your rooms, taking a step inside before closing the door gently. 

He gripped both of your shoulders, making sure your eyes were on him. “Don’t overthink it.” 

“Easier said than done.”

Arms wrapped around you, tugging you right into a hard and warm chest. Easily, you wrapped your arms around him. This was familiar, this was safe. 

“We both wanted it,” he rubbed circles into your back. Maybe he sensed you needed reassurance. 

“Let me guess, you made a plan?” You joked. 

Rowan didn’t answer, and you tilted your head to look up at him. He had an unapologetic grin on his face. Eyes rolling, a laugh came from your chest. Brushing hair away from your face, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Don’t run away in the morning,” he said and you dropped your arms. Taking a step back, keeping his eyes on you, he gripped the doorknob. Another smile, and he slipped out the door. 

“Goodnight to you too,” you called down the hallway. 

-

Thirty minutes later, you paced inside of your rooms, the haze fading, and traced your finger over your now bruised and puffy lips. Had that really happened? Had you imagined it? 

Definitely not. 

Are you going to deny her? Are you going to deny him?

Oh fuck. 

Bracing your hands on the counter, you took a deep breath before looking in the mirror. Facing you, was a female with flushed cheeks, messed hair, bruised lips, and a glow. A female who looked free. 

It’s a shame freedom has its costs, because this couldn’t happen again. 

taglist: @holb32 @fussel9913 @moonlightttfae @cassianswh0reeee, @reidishh 

[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part four 

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again, and deal with the fall-out of your secret

Warnings: drinking, mentions of death and injuries

Word Count: ~6.4k 

A/N: sorry this took longer than expected! I appreciate all of your support so much <3

series masterlist

There had been a few … discussions over who would greet them. Eventually, they decided Rowan and Aelin would meet them first - and the rest of the court the next day at breakfast. Evangeline made the most logical argument - that they would completely overwhelm them. Lorcan added they were stuck with Fenrys’s company for weeks and might already be approaching their limit. 

Rowan had a feeling you and Fenrys got along just fine, you certainly seemed to be back in Antica. An uncomfortable but familiar emotion surged in him. Jealousy? Jealousy that Fenrys got to spend that much time with his daughter, not that he spent that time with you, he convinced himself. 

The carriage rolled up, the doors swung open. Fenrys first, followed by Reya, you, Ani, and finally Ceri. Who hid behind you again, just like the first time they’d met. Rowan tried not to frown, he knew it would take time for her to warm up. 

“You can say hello, if you’d like,” you murmured quietly, hair falling so it shielded half of your face. Were you shy all of the sudden? Ceri took another step forward, stopping a few feet in front of you. She looked back at you, you sent an encouraging nod her way. She paused, shifted her body to the side, and grabbed Ani’s hand - dragging her friend with her. 

Rowan’s mouth curved in amusement as they both paused in front of them. Then, he realized he had no fucking idea what to do. 

Aelin crouched down, arms opened, and the two looked at each other - some kind of silent communication passing through, before they both launched themselves at his Queen. Her laughter echoed through the courtyard, arms wrapping around the two of them. 

Rowan watched them for a moment, Aelin asking them about their trip - the two of them chattering about this and that, about a new card game, something about ‘self-defense’ lessons, etc. 

But, you were quiet, and Fenrys … Fenrys looked like he was about to deliver bad news. You’d turned slightly away from him, hair shielding half of your face and your focus on Aelin and the girls was pointed. Avoiding looking at him. 

“You’re early,” Rowan finally said as Aelin rose. 

“It’s because of the bad man,” Ani said - before Ceri could shush her. 

Bad man. Bad man. Bad man. 

Rowan saw red, crouching to look over Ceri - no injuries, scars, bruises, anything to show something’s amiss. His daughter leaned towards him, cupping her hands around her mouth. “It’s mum that was hurt,” she whispered pointed towards you, in what she probably thought was a discreet way, “not me, but he’s dead now and it healed.” 

“Thank you,” Rowan forced a smile onto his face, clamped down harshly on his anger. 

“I think we have things to talk about,” Aelin said, voice calm and steady. 

“We do.” Fenrys said, you nodding in agreement. 

“I know the perfect guide for you,” Aelin smiled warmly at the two girls, and Reya. It was obvious this conversation needed to be between the four of them, and Reya seemed relieved to be excluded. Aelin led them back, stopping just before the entrance hall before disappearing. 

Minutes later, she returned - Evangeline in tow. Aelin murmured a few instructions to her, referencing the specific wing and rooms for your group, and they took off. 

“Are you going to tell me what the hell happened?” Rowan directed at Fenrys. 

You cut in, “it didn’t involve him.” Your cheeks flushed as you found yourself the center of attention - but you kept going. “We went to the park, on our way back I noticed something off - shoved the three of them behind the wards, and kept the attacker away long enough for an archer to shoot him. A mortal magic wielder.” 

Kept them at bay. Against a mortal, you should’ve been able to kill them within the first minute. “You were trying to get answers from him.” Rowan observed, not asked, but you confirmed that with a nod. Fenrys laid a comforting hand on your shoulder, and from the corner of his vision, he saw Aelin’s eyes narrow. 

“The archer killed him before I could.” 

As a nervous habit, one hand brushed your hair away, tucking it behind your ear - you froze, palm over your cheek, white rings around your eyes. 

“They’ll see it eventually,” Fenrys said quietly, squeezing your shoulder. 

Aelin was bristling next to him, and he wasn’t much better. See what? 

Slowly, so gods-damned slowly, your hand lowered down to your side. A nasty looking scar sliced across your cheek. It looked painful, and for it to scar like that … 

“The cut wasn’t bad, but the blade was iron and enchanted. Not a curse, just to leave a mark,” you tugged your bottom teeth between your lips, debating your next words. “I think it’s obvious, the knife wasn’t meant for me. We left the next night.” 

“If there’s any updates, they’ll send word.” Fenrys added. 

“How did it happen?” Somehow, he managed to keep his voice and words steady. Someone tried to kill his daughter. Aelin’s warm hand against his shoulder kept him anchored, kept him steady. Tried to kill you, his … the mother of his child didn’t feel right. A friend, he settled on for now. Tried to kill his friend, and succeeded in injuring her. 

As you explained the story, his temper flared. He wanted to ask how you could be so stupid, how you could put the two … four of you at danger like that, but Fenrys was glaring at him and he held his tongue. 

“You’ll need to see a healer and get that checked,” was all he could manage. 

“We,” Aelin emphasized, squeezing his shoulder, “are glad you both are safe.” 

“Thank you,” the words were soft before your eyes narrowed, a subtle bite edging into your tone, “I don’t need a healer, it’s fine.” 

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” 

“For fucks sake,” Fenrys muttered, “I’ll take you to the healers, let them poke a bit, and it’ll shut him up.” Rowan’s eyes promised vengeance, and Fenrys ignored him. You were biting back a laugh, which he supposed was a good thing, considering the news you’d just dropped. 

“We’ll go tomorrow,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into your side. The way you looked at him - completely friendly and platonic, but an ugly feeling surged in his stomach. They should be the friends that were there for you. “Unless your majesty and highness have an objection,” the male challenged him. 

“No objections,” Aelin glanced down at her nails - a tactic she uses to divert frustration, “but we’ll be meeting the rest of our court for a late breakfast,” she looked up at you, a wicked amusement gleaming in those eyes, “I imagine it will be interesting.” 

“Should I be nervous?” your tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, Aelin’s watched the movement, but she caught herself and met your eyes instead. Rowan noted that little moment, something to think on later. 

“I think you’ll be nervous no matter what I say.”

A huff, but you agreed, and Fenrys carted you off towards your rooms. He knew exactly what you’d be seeing -  a suite, complete with a bathing room, bedroom, sitting area, and breakfast table, connected to a small hall - two bedrooms with private baths on either side, perfect for Ceri and Ani, and straight across the hall was Reya’s suite, identical to yours. 

Aelin took the time to hunt through the castle for the perfect set of rooms for the three of you, and decided on these. 

The two girls couldn’t leave without having to go through one of your rooms, and they’d made sure the hinges on the doors all squeaked loudly. Rowan was proud of how much thought they’d put into it, and part of him hoped you would be too. 

He shouldn’t care that much about your opinion or approval. You shouldn’t be taking up this much of his mind, shouldn’t be echoing in his thoughts like this. 

-

Rowan and Aelin had thought of everything, down to the extra loud doors, the twin desks stocked with paper and various colored pencils and paints, the snacks in the small cabinets, the layout of the rooms … you’d walked in to Reya and Evangeline, a teenage woman maybe seven or eight years older than your daughter,  you guessed. But … she was already sitting next to them, another piece of paper out to draw, making encouraging comments to each of them. 

“They’re getting along well,” Reya leaned back on the loveseat, a glass of wine already in hand. “I was kicked out of the drawing circle.” 

“You don’t look too upset over it,” you took your cloak off, carefully slinging it over the back of a chair. 

The trunks were stacked against an opposite wall, backpacks balanced on top of them. 

“I told them not to put anything away,” Reya followed your gaze, “I figured you’d want to do it yourself. I know I do.” 

“Thank you,” you collapsed into the couch next to her. Putting things away felt a bit … permanent. Would you? They’d promised you could explore different parts of Terrasen, but had never given you a timeline.

Couch cushions rustled, glass clanked, and a hefty serving of wine was pushed into your hand. For the first time since you’d seen Rowan again, you let yourself relax.

-

Aelin watched as Rowan paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, wearing down the carpet. She liked that carpet. His fists clenched, on and off. It had been ten minutes of letting him stew in silence, and she was done with it. 

“They’re safe,” she emphasized, “and here, with us.” Evangeline had reported back that they all seemed in good spirits, and the two girls were heading to bed as she left. 

“She has a scar,” he ran one hand through his hair, his eyes meeting hers; and it’s my fault. 

“We all have scars,” Aelin tried to keep her voice gentle, “and it takes two to make a baby.” 

He pinned her with a look that said; that’s not the point. Aelin scented Fenrys, and seconds later she heard a knock on the door. Holding her hand up to Rowan, him freezing in place, she opened it herself, mouthing over her shoulder; be nice.

He shut the door behind him, and leaned back against it, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Go on, ask your questions.” 

“What did you see?” Aelin spilled the words out before Rowan could.

“Not much,” he admitted, crossing his arms over his chest. “She was trying to subdue him - as you know, the archer across the street killed him instead. There was an enchanted blade - iron, with some marks carved into the handle. She destroyed it.” 

“Was he one of the men watching?” One of the lurkers that hung around her house for several days. 

Surprisingly, Fenrys shook his head. 

“We don’t know anything else,” his onyx eyes shifted from her, over to Rowan, “dead men can’t talk,” he deadpanned. 

Gods, the last thing she needs is the two of them getting into it tonight. Fenrys made a quick exit, promising he’d bring you by the healers before breakfast. Then, he and Evangeline would bring you down to meet everyone. 

Rowan, however, was still tearing a hole in the fucking carpet, and she tried a different tactic. “What would y/n say, if she saw you like this?” 

He paused, slowly turning his head to meet her; like he was looking for some kind of trick or trap. There was none, she was just trying to get his head out of his ass. Not seeing one, he finally answered, “I don’t know anymore.” 

-

The healers weren’t concerned, didn’t sense any kind of malignant magic or poison, and only confirmed what she already knew; a blade designed to leave a scar, and that’s it. She was still seething at Rowan’s ‘not a suggestion.’ Overprotective Fae bullshit. He had no claim to her, no need to protect her. The little nasty voice in the back of her mind told her it’s only because she’s the mother of his child, just as he was the father of hers. Co-parents, that would be the extent of their ‘relationship,’ anything else might complicate things - and she doesn’t want to give anyone a reason to think she might end up as a homewrecker. 

Reya linked one arm through hers, your daughters ahead of you - each holding on to one of Evangeline’s hands, periodically looking over their shoulders to make sure the two of you were still present. Not that you could go anywhere, trapped between Fenrys and Reya.

Steadying your breathing, you followed through the oak doors into an informal, thank the gods, dining room. Large windows showed a beautiful view of the city, the table already stacked with food, and what must be the rest of her court.

Ceri had retreated, half hiding behind you now, Ani doing the same to your right. 

“It’s alright,” you kept your voice low, “they’re the new friends Fenrys told you about.” 

“All horrible things, I’m sure,” the female with an ever changing scent. A shifter. Lady Lysandra. 

Fenrys made an exaggerated ‘shh’ noise, drawing a giggle from Ceri, who stepped out from behind you. Evangeline swooped in to take over introductions for the girls, everything happened almost in a blur around you as you shook hands - told preemptively not to bow or curtsey, and ended up seated at the table. 

You watched as your daughter shedded her shy skin, quickly chattering about anything and everything, answering every question shot her away, returning with one of her own. 

Aedion was studying you carefully, and you felt almost like you were put on display. Some kind of relic from the past, dragged up to Terrasen, and you couldn’t tell if your presence was entirely welcome or not. Last night, Evangeline said they’d only found out about you that morning, meaning less than half a day to come to terms with your existence - and Ceri’s. 

“So you’re from Wendlyn,” he finally said. 

“I am,” you sipped your tea. 

“Why did you go to the Southern Continent?” 

Glancing towards your daughter - currently caught up in conversation with Rowan, you noticed Fenrys pinning Aedion with a nasty look. It seemed to say; you know why. You were grateful he was there, without him your nerves might’ve already gotten the best of you. 

“It was not safe to be there. My mother was from Antica, and for honesty’s sake, there’s few places where our kind are well received. You traced a finger over the curves of your pointed ears, “I couldn’t hide my heritage, neither could she.” 

“Were you ever going to tell him?” 

Lysandra, quite obviously, jabbed her elbow into his side. There was something else here … more personal. 

Fenrys had said; “Aedion’s father is … was Gavriel. Like you, his mother kept it a secret for his sake.” 

“I won’t lie to you, I wasn’t sure. I told her that her father’s a Fae warrior and Royal, when she asked, but she never pressed for his name. If she did, I would’ve told her.” Silver hair flashed in your peripherals, and you were aware she was listening in now. “I believe our paths would’ve crossed at some point.” 

Aedion seemed satisfied by your answer, and stopped that line of questioning. The pointed stare from Aelin might have helped as well, because he shot a sheepish look your way, before asking more pleasant questions. It didn’t bother you, you were a stranger, and it’s natural they'd want to assess if you were a threat to their country or Queen. With your daughter, you’d undoubtedly do the same thing. Still, the idea that you would have to prove yourself turned your stomach. 

Everyone kept glancing between your daughter and Rowan, and seeing the two side by side - again, re-iterated just how alike they looked. At first, every look at the silver tufts of hair, the deep green eyes, had been a reminder of him, but over the years the two separated. Sure, you still thought of their resemblance, once in a while, but he’d slipped to the back of your mind, your entire world existing outside of him, two circles far away from each other. Until a few weeks ago. 

Everything will be different. Your fingers tapped against your thighs. A better world.

As long as Ceri was happy, you could find happiness too. 

-

Rowan quickly learned what his daughter was like. Wild was the best way to describe her. Either the best or the worst combination of him and his mother. 

The first time he spotted her at the top of a tree, he panicked. 

“Ceri, come down,” he pleaded. 

“It’s nice up here,” she countered, and sat her ass down, obviously intending to stay a while. 

“She’ll come down when she’s ready,” a soft voice murmured, the scent of roses flooding the area. Roses … without your voice - he might not have recognized it, you’d always chosen Lilacs for perfume, soap, anything. He’d been distracted enough by his daughter balancing on a precarious branch, he didn’t hear your approach. 

“Is this … common?” 

“You get used to it,” you walked up to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, a good twelve inches of space between you. “Evangeline is waiting, she brought you and Ani chocolates.” 

Leaves shuffled, a few branches creaked - Rowan winced and tensed - but Ceri was down from the tree in less than a minute, sprinting back towards where Evangeline waited, looking thoroughly amused. 

Everyone seemed to be amused at how his daughter shot his heart rate to dangerous levels. 

-

Three weeks passed, and you grew more and more on edge. Eager to leave Orynth, to see somewhere else in Terrasen. Everyone seemed to watch you. Eyes on you at all times, everyone who passed you in the hall. Their eyes lit up as they saw Ceri, only to narrow slightly as they crossed over to you holding her hand. 

A stranger, who looked nothing like the small girl a carbon copy of the King. 

-

A year and a half passed, and you were still in Terrasen. Everyone else was thriving, and although you didn’t quite feel at home yet, you were getting there. 

The entire court, and the country really, had been more than welcoming - but, you made sure to put a certain distance between you and the King and Queen, keeping it exactly as you’d intended - co-parenting. You and your daughter’s every move was watched, although she didn’t seem to mind or notice, it kept you hyper-aware and a bit paranoid. 

The mother of King Rowan’s daughter. 

That’s what you’d been reduced to. Being her mother was an honor, of course, but you lost a sense of your identity. Reya, sliding more under the radar, helped you sell your goods - that way you knew they weren’t buying just because of who your daughter was. Because of who managed to stick a babe in you. 

-

Your entire group decided to stay in Terrasen, but Rowan barely saw you throughout the last two years. 

For fucks sake, Fenrys saw more of you than he did, and it shouldn’t have bothered him this much. You’d been friends of sorts eight years ago - not long considering an immortal lifespan, but now it felt like you were barely a step up from strangers, like you both didn’t share one of the most important people in your lives. 

“Why is she so distant?” Aelin asked Lysandra, and Rowan started paying attention to their conversation. The two were inhaling impressive amounts of chocolates and wine, lounging in their sitting room. They’d chosen to live in Caraverre, and the shifter definitely boasted, lightheartedly, about it once in a while. If he had his way, which rarely happens anymore, he’d have both of you here in Orynth. 

“You haven’t put that together yet?” Lysandra purred, tipping her glass back as Aelin scowled. 

“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be asking you.” 

Lysandra faked exasperation, letting out a long exhale. “Even in Caraverre, there’s always eyes on her. She’s very careful of how it can be perceived, if she gets too close to either of you.” 

“She’s staying away to keep her reputation clean?” Rowan cut in. 

“And yours,” she ran her finger around the rim of the glass, “but maybe that’ll change some, now that she has someone to herself.” 

His teeth clenched and Lysandra’s head tilted - but Aelin had tensed next to her. “Who is it, Lys?” 

“None of my business,” she smirked, enjoying that she had some kind of knowledge Aelin, and he, wanted. 

“You make everything your business.” Rowan cut in. 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself? She’ll be here next week, won’t she?” 

“If someone’s going to be around my daughter, I should know of it.” Rowan knew, even if he wouldn’t admit it, that it wasn’t really about that. He trusted your judgment, trusted that you wouldn’t let anyone dangerous around her. Still, he wanted to be a part of your life. Wanted to know these kinds of things about you, and wanted to spend more than twenty minutes with you twice a month. 

“I doubt it’s permanent,” Lysandra laughed and dodged the pillow Aelin tossed her way. 

“Maybe I should visit more often.” Aelin mused, “If I go to her, alone, it might not be as … reputation damaging.” 

Aelin spit the last two words out like she didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of her reputation, of her being friends with you. 

Rowan wanted to know why you cared. 

He didn’t get a chance to. You avoided being alone with him as much as possible, rarely giving him an opening to ask any sort of questions like that. When he managed to lead the conversation in that direction, you deflected with such ease that by the time he realized it was off topic, you were gone. Aelin visited you on her own, but apparently you either deflected or shut down when she brought it up, and his wife gave up on that - not wanting to push you away further.

-

Something was wrong, and Aelin knew because Ceri was quiet, and she certainly hadn’t inherited her father’s distaste for words. 

Rowan caved first, putting his spoon down. “What is it?” 

She huffed and copied his movement. “My mum’s sad. She thinks she’s good at hiding it, but I can tell.” 

“Why is she sad?” Aelin asked gently. 

Her lips pursed together, debating telling them something. “Aunt Reya and Ani are probably leaving soon.” Aelin met Rowan’s gaze, that was news to him as well. Probably, meaning they were probably waiting to tell anyone until it’s official. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but I thought you should know.” 

“We can keep the secret,” Rowan assured her, “how do you feel … about that?” 

The way she stabbed the piece of fruit told Aelin enough about how she felt. “I’m mad, and mum says it’s fine to be angry, but to try and be happy for them too. Ani’s grandmother wants them to come home, and she always complains about the snow.” 

Ceri switched to a recounting of her latest ghost-leopard sighting. She was obsessed with them. “And her partner is going to take her -” 

“Partner?” Rowan cut in before he could stop himself. 

Ceri rolled her eyes, “yes, mum’s partner, is taking her -” 

Rowan stiffened next to her, fist clenching around his glass, and Aelin stomped on his foot, dragging him back to the present. 

“What’s his name?” 

“I don’t know,” her green eyes narrowed. 

“Have you met them?” She tried to ask as casually as possible. 

“No,” her nose scrunched up.

“Your mum told you?” 

Mischief shone in her eyes, “I heard her conversation with Aunt Reya.” 

More likely she feigned sleep and snuck out of bed. Rowan had taught her how to redirect her scent, and she’s putting it to good use. Aelin stomped on Rowan’s foot again - at the smug look on his face. 

He caught her gaze, he’s not good enough for her.

We don’t know who he is.

Maybe Fenrys does.

We shouldn’t interfere … but Aelin wants to, and it makes no damn sense to her. 

-

“Who’s y/n’s partner?” Rowan asked Fenrys - bluntly. 

The male smirked, leaning back in his chair and interlacing his hands behind his head. “Who says it’s not me?” 

Rowan snarled, and Fenrys barked out a laugh. “I’m not, relax. We’re just friends” 

“But you know who he is?” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. Fenrys looked far too amused at this. 

“I know who she is.” 

He’d forgotten that particular detail. “And what’s her name?” 

“I’m not the one you should be asking. Besides, I doubt it’ll last. None of the others have.” 

“Others?”

“If you asked her these things, she’d tell you.” 

“I didn’t ask for your advice,” he growled, tempted to kick him out. 

“Too bad, you got it anyway. Tell your daughter to stop eavesdropping if you don’t want to know.” That’s the problem, he does want to know. Fenrys know’s that too, but he’s just being a bastard for his own amusement. “And Rowan?” He stood, heading towards the door. 

“What?” 

“Neither you or Aelin have a claim to her.” Rowan opened his mouth, as if to protest but … he doesn’t have a claim to her, not now. “Until you do, let her live her life.” 

The door shut behind him. You or Aelin. Until you do. The bedroom door swung open, revealing Aelin, a towel wrapped across her chest. 

“You heard everything?” 

“I did.” 

-

“If you like mum, why aren’t you with her?” Ceri questioned. Fenrys’s fork dropped, clattering onto his plate as he shot an incredulous look at Rowan. 

“We like her as a friend,” Rowan clarified. 

“Aren’t friends supposed to stay with each other?” 

Fenrys and Aedion were barely holding back laughter, and Rowan looked to Aelin, she could handle this question. 

Coward, she said. 

“Lysandra and I are friends, and we live just as far apart as your mother does.” 

“But Evangeline says only special friends make babies,” she pointed her fork at Rowan, “that’s different.” 

The other males gave up holding back their laughter, getting a scowl from the little hellion. Aelin watched Rowan’s cheeks flush as he tried to figure out how to answer this. Your turn, she said. 

He was saved as Ceri launched two grapes towards Aedion and Fenrys, using a bit of wind to make sure they hit their targets; “We’ve talked about this. No throwing food at the table.” Still, he admired the two small splatters on each of their foreheads, “but your aim is getting better.” 

“You never answered my question.” 

Rowan was not prepared for this. Centuries couldn’t have prepared him for this, but he prayed his answer would be enough. “We are not … special friends anymore.” 

She looked ready to ask why, but returned to her food instead. He finally felt like he could breathe again. Someone needs to make a book on how to deal with this. 

-

Aelin was excited, both you and Ceri would be arriving soon, and she was hoping to convince you to stay at least overnight. They had about a fifty percent success rate with convincing you to stay in Orynth at least a bit longer. Since your friend left, it became more frequent. Plus, considering the massive snowstorm looming, Aelin would raise her odds. 

“If I leave now, I should miss most of it,” she knew you were looking at the clock behind her, your teeth were worrying your bottom lip. Even you were doubting it. 

“Or you’ll be stranded in the snow,” Rowan countered, arms crossing over his chest, head tilting to the side. 

“I can handle myself.” 

“Not if you freeze to death.” 

“Just stay,” Ceri groaned, tugging on your sleeve. “She’s not there anyway.” 

Who is she? 

“And why is that?” You raised a brow, and your daughter shrugged her shoulders, but didn’t quite look apologetic. 

“Because they-I didn't like her.” 

“You never met her.”

“I didn’t have to,” Ceri’s wicked grin sent a shiver down her spine. Aelin recognized the look on her face, she’d seen it all too frequently in her husband. You sighed, but abandoned the argument, instead watching as she ran off, spotting some of her friends down the hall. A long time ago, they gave up trying to get her to stop running in the castle. 

“What did she do?” Aelin forced amusement on her face. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “One day she showed up at my door - while Ceri was at school, told me it wasn’t going to work, and Ceri came home looking very pleased with herself.” 

“How long were you together?” Aelin linked an arm through yours. 

“A few months,” you hummed, admitting, “It wouldn’t have worked long term.” 

-

You’d been here for three days, trapped by the storm. The longest amount of time since you’d arrived in Terrasen, and the most at peace you’d felt. It should be the opposite, really, considering how much effort you’ve put into avoiding Rowan specifically, but their company was enjoyable and put you at ease. Aelin made herself difficult to avoid. She developed a habit of randomly showing up on your doorstep, for book exchanges or to ‘get a break from him.’

Aelin let you borrow some clothes, considering you hadn’t planned to spend the night, and convinced you to let her braid your hair. 

“You’re not horrible at it,” Ceri informed Aelin and you winced. 

“Not horrible?” Aelin smiled at her, taking the ‘compliment’ with ease. “Last time you said I was doing great.” 

“I said you were doing better.” 

“Then who’s the best at it?” You teased, already knowing the answer. 

“Evangeline.” 

Now, it was just the four of you in a small hearth room - a fire roaring in the corner, an oak table filled with warm and heavy food, three pints of ale and one hot chocolate. 

“I want to move here,” Ceri announced at the table.

Gods, maybe she could’ve mentioned you to this before - not in front of them as well, backing you right into a corner. Eyes shuttering closed, you let out of a slow breath, giving yourself a few seconds before opening them again. 

“We can talk about it,” you promised her, sending an apologetic look to Rowan and Aelin. But they … they seemed excited about it. It makes sense they’d want Ceri closer. A few years ago, you told yourself you’d go where she wanted. If she wants to be here … there’s not much holding you to Caraverre really. Not much holding you anywhere, besides your daughter. That haunting sense of loneliness crept back into you. 

“What’s there to talk about?” 

“It’s a big change,” Rowan swept in, “something we can talk about later.” 

“I want my whole family together.” 

Family. 

It was impossible to miss the excitement in Rowan’s  eyes, the same one echoed in Aelin and Ceri’s. In everyone but yours. Yours were filled with trepidation and concern. 

“Quit worrying so much,” Reya told you, in the days before her departure. “You’ll make yourself miserable.”

-

“Are you moving to Orynth?” Aelin asked later that night, convincing you to share a bottle of wine with her. Rowan was in the corner, reading some kind of report, but his eyes stopped moving, head tilted slightly to listen in to the conversation. 

“Ceri wants to,” one finger absentmindedly ran over your scar, “wants both of us to.” For a bit, you thought she may have worded it wrong - that she just wanted to reverse the roles and live primarily with Rowan. But, she’d insisted both of you come here. 

“There’s not a chance she’d move without you,” Aelin plucked your empty glass out of your hands, filling both of yours halfway. 

“Thank you,” your fingers brushed as she handed it to you, and you could’ve sworn she lingered for a second. It’s the wine. Blinking heavily to bring yourself into focus, you admitted, “I’m glad,” and hoped they’d interpret your flush on the cheeks as alcohol-induced. 

“We’ll be glad to have you here,” she countered. 

“We’ll have to start looking at homes.” 

“Live in the castle,” Rowan said from his corner, papers now resting on his thighs. 

There it was, the demanding tone. If he thought he could bark an order and bring her to heel, he didn’t know her as well as you thought he did. Then again … he’d changed, and so had you. 

You shook your head, “It’s not a good idea.” 

“Why?” Aelin was facing you now, legs curled up under her. To give yourself time to think, you took another drink.

“We all know how it’ll -” 

“I don’t care how it looks,” Rowan cut you off, “you’re the only one who does,” he added - a tad gentler. 

“I like to keep a low profile.” 

“You like to hide,” he countered, “we haven’t kept Ceri a secret.” 

“There’s a difference between just our daughter, and both of us living here.” 

“What will it take for you to stop being a damn coward? To stop hiding?” 

“Rowan,” Aelin warned, her voice sharp. 

Tense silence filled the room, but Rowan didn’t seem to regret his words - not one bit, and that incensed you further. 

“I’m not a coward,” you snarled, chest tightening, cheeks turning red. Oh, he knew the right words to light a fire under your ass. To push you into enough anger to get a reaction. Calm was your default. Always calm, always composed, always steady. The current of anger and resentment, the feelings you buried so deep inside, threatened to sweep you under.

“Rowan,” Aelin snarled, louder, as his mouth opened. His jaw slammed back shut, giving you a chance to get the rest of your words out.  In. Count to four. Out. Count to four. 

“There’s a good reason for my fear,” your voice shook, despite your best efforts, hand trailing over the scar again. “Hiding has saved me more often than not.” 

Aelin’s brow furrowed, but Rowan’s eyes flashed in recognition.

The top of a hill, crouched in a tree, the magic your mother bent - the wards last minute designed to keep you out, to keep you away from them. Away from the slaughter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get past them, but couldn’t convince yourself to run away either. Instead, you watched as the soldiers fell, watched and hid. 

A warm hand squeezed your shoulder, and you jerked, lower back hitting the arm of the couch, “sorry,” you murmured, still half in a daze, trying to shake the memory away. Turquoise and gold eyes peered at you with concern, her hand slowly retreating, body posture pointedly relaxed and unthreatening. 

“Aelin doesn’t know,” Rowan cleared his throat. You’d spilled that story to him one night, both of you plied with a good amount of liquor. It surprised you he hadn’t shared that with her. “It’s not my story to tell,” he added, reading the look on your face. 

“It is safer for the two of you to live here.” Aelin said quietly. Maybe it was unintentional, but she played the right card. Swallowing a bit of discomfort for safety is a sacrifice you could make. Maybe free yourself too, to stop worrying so much. If they didn’t care about public perception, you had no reason to. 

“If you still care about how it looks,” Aelin continued, ignoring the look Rowan tried to pin her with, “think of it this way; people will be happier to see a family together, considering how many were torn apart.” 

You could see exactly how she made a great queen. A few phrases from her changed your mindset enough you were on the verge of agreeing, but you made them wait in a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. But … you weren’t ready to let go of it, not just yet. 

“Do you really think it’s that unsafe? For us to live outside of the castle?” Unintentionally, you were drawn to the three kingsflame preserved on the mantle. Beautiful small red and orange flowers, encased in crystal. Selfish, a nasty voice in your head crooned at you, they’re trying to help. 

-

Rowan didn’t detect any kind of accusation in your question. The short answer would be no. He didn’t believe Orynth was unsafe in general, but he didn’t … trust anyone with you or Ceri’s safety. Any chance, even infinitesimal, was too much of a risk to him. 

When the silence dragged on, you stiffened, “or is it me, that you don’t trust to keep us safe?” 

“We trust you,” Aelin rushed, thankfully without hesitation, sensing the anger creeping back in, and Rowan nodded his agreement. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen you truly angry, and a small part of him liked poking these reactions out of you. To do something most others couldn’t, to break the careful calm you’ve built over the years. It was there when he knew you, but now it was nearly unflappable. Still, he didn’t want to do that if it would hurt you. 

He thought about if he’d answered “no” to your question. He does believe in you, but if he’d said that … you might have lost the confidence you’d built in your work, and trust in yourself. Real wards and protective enchantments were difficult to come by, and rumors of your work reached Orynth - under a false name, but he knew exactly who it was. 

You glanced down at your lap, tapping your fingers against your leg. Either deep in thought, or nervous.

“I don’t know if it would be good for her, spending all of her time here. She doesn’t want to be a princess.” 

Rowan had heard that before, from his daughter, what felt like hundreds of times by now. 

“I’m aware,” he deadpanned, watching the corners of your mouth turn up. 

“I’ll speak to Ceri, before we make any decisions.” Aelin couldn’t hide the relief on her face, neither could he. Now, just to get his daughter on their side. At the hint of challenge in your eyes, he had a suspicion that might be more difficult than he expected.