#rowaelin fic

[rowaelinsdaughter]

Sleep little one

a/n;; Mostly Aelin x reader, but is a Rowaelin x reader fic.

Warnings;; None, just fluff.

She sits by the window watching the raindrops hit the glass. 

A melody that calms her mind and soothes the ache in  her heart. 

She watches as people run to their houses to hide from the fury of the storm.

A thunder tears the world into two. But she never lifts the head from her lap, her hands hugging her knees as if she could remember those arms that had hugged her that morning. 

The book she had been reading was forgotten on the floor, because the view from the window was more captivating than the words on the paper. 

She heard someone opening the door and walked softly to her. A soft kiss was placed on her hair and two hands started massaging her shoulders. 

She let a pleasure groan leave her mouth, those hands making her tense muscles relax. 

“You should come to bed. You know, Rowan misses you and I miss you”

She looked at her mate and a soft smile appeared on her face. Aelin’s hair was tidied up into a messy bun and she was wearing one of Rowan’s shirts, in fact, she was wearing one too. The scent of her mate embracing her like a second skin. She had gotten used to stealing their clothes, mostly shirts and some pants.

She finally stood up from her seat at the window roll and Aelin hugged her by the waist. Her arms found a comfortable place on her shoulders and her hands played with the hair that was loose from the bun. 

“I want something first” Aelin brought her face closer to her, both their noses touching. 

“And… what is what you want, sweetheart?” 

“You know exactly what I want”

Aelin rolled her eyes, not wanting to have a silly little fight with her mate, so she kissed her. 

Softly. Lovingly. Just how she knew she liked when she was feeling tired and the only thing her mate wants are cuddles and kisses.

She broke the kiss and giggled when Aelin lifted her as if she weighed nothing, and just like that, they made their way to their bedroom. 

Noticing them, Rowan opened the door with a cold breeze. Still carrying her, Aelin placed her in the middle of the bed, between her and Rowan. He turned so he was watching her. Eyes heavy with sleep but still, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

Aelin got into the bed and placed an arm around her waist. She left a kiss on her cheek and Rowan kissed her lips. 

By the time they finished getting ready to sleep, she was already sleeping peacefully and deeply, and Aelin was the next one to fall asleep.

So Rowan watched his mates sleep peacefully, knowing that he would fight anyone and anything for them.

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter .no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

🏷️;; @loneliestluvr @danikamariewrites @thehighladywrites @vanserrasswife @amara-moonlight @throneofsapphics @cadiawrites @shadowdaddies @claireswritingcorner

[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.”

[goddess-aelin]

Lovestruck

Day 2 of Rowaelin month- spies/heist AU

A follow up to Lovesick- highly recommend reading that one before this one. Otherwise you'll probably be lost

Masterlist

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: stealing, small injury

“Aelin?” Rowan’s heart completely dropped to his stomach. Why was the woman he had seen just hours ago sitting on his fire escape, clad in black and laying next to a broken statue like she was on some sort of fucking art heist?

“Ro..I…Agh.” Aelin clutched her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if she was in pain. “Fuck.”

Rowan could only stare. 

“I swear this isn’t what it looks like.” Aelin’s turquoise eyes met his own. She shifted her hand behind her to sit up more sturdily but a hiss of pain escaped her lips instead.

  And at that moment, Rowan really couldn’t have cared whether she was in the middle of stealing the fucking Declaration of Independence, he couldn’t bear to see her in pain. “Fuck, Aelin. Come here.” He pushed his window up just far enough that he could reach out and pull her toward him. He picked her up with a gentleness that surprised even him given the circumstances, watching for any injuries or flinches of pain. Setting her down on the couch, he started to make his way to the kitchen but thought better of it and held his hand out to Aelin, instead. “Give me your glove.” 

“What?” 

He made a motion with his hand. “Give me your glove. Quickly.” Hesitantly, she did as she was asked, handing her black leather glove over to Rowan. Even though it was at least three sizes too small, Rowan shoved as much of his hand into the glove as he could and went once again to the window. Leaning out, he gently picked up the pieces of the broken statue, making sure that he got every little piece before closing the window.

As he turned back to Aelin, he could tell she was gobsmacked. 

“Why are you helping me?”

Rowan just sighed but didn’t answer her question. “How about we start with me wrapping that wrist and then you can tell me what you were doing on my fire escape at two in the morning with a suspiciously familiar statue.” 

While she didn’t necessarily look happy, Aelin nodded. “Deal.”

“Can you walk?” At his question, Aelin nodded, and got up to follow him to the kitchen.

She sat at one of the high-top stools at his kitchen island and he could feel her piercing gaze on his back as he rifled through the cabinets to find a wrap for her wrist. Returning to her once he found it, he grabbed her hand, inspecting for any cuts or scrapes. Finding none, he started pushing at her skin in different areas. She hissed as his fingers met the already-forming bruise.

“Luckily, I think it’s just a sprain. I’ll wrap it but if it feels any different tomorrow, you should go get an x-ray.” 

Aelin snorted. “This isn’t my first rodeo.” 

Rowan raised his eyebrows at that. But still he said nothing, trying and failing to gather his thoughts around this strange, beautiful, and mysterious woman. Gently, he began wrapping her wrist with the bandages.

“So you just keep a wrist wrap in your kitchen?”

“I’m a doctor, remember? I have medical supplies all over my apartment.” Aelin let out a huff of breath at that. “Are you going to tell me why I found you out there, looking as if you were falling from the heavens?”

Aelin sighed, gathering her thoughts. “I swear to you, it was not what you think. I wasn’t stealing the statue from the art gallery above.” Rowan met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I was stealing the statue but I swear I had a good reason.” 

Aelin took a deep breath to steal herself. “I come from a long line of Terrasen royalty. Of course, we don’t have a monarchy anymore so I’m just a normal citizen, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about my family’s history. My great-great grandfather had a collection of artifacts that dated all the way back to King Brannon’s line. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” Rowan nodded in affirmation. “Well that broken statue was one of the last known pieces from that time period. My great-great grandfather passed it down to my great grandfather, he to my grandfather, and then it should’ve passed onto my father. But this guy, Arobynn Hamel, took it instead”

“The Arobynn Hamel that owns the art gallery upstairs?”

Aelin nodded. “If we come from a long line of Terrasen royalty, then he comes from a long line of people who tried to steal the throne from us. So I guess he felt like he was entitled to this particular statue and when my grandfather died. Imagine our surprise when the will was read and our family heirloom was suddenly passed down to a guy no one could stand.”

"Sounds fishy.” 

“It was. There was no way that my grandfather would have given it to him. None. I grew up being a part of my grandfather’s life and I still remember his disdain for the man. Without my dad here to stop me anymore, I guess I just wanted to have a piece of our family history back.”

“So why did you feel like you needed to do this in the dead of night instead of fighting for it via legal routes?”

Aelin’s rueful smile slowly grew into a smirk. “Where would the fun be in that?”

Rowan couldn’t hold back his huff of laughter. This woman. She was going to be the death of him. Aelin’s face suddenly got serious. “Are you mad?”

Rowan furrowed his brows. “Mad? No.” He sighed. “Concerned? Yes, of course.”

Aelin swallowed loudly. “Are you going to turn me in?” 

Rowan really tried to make a good show of contemplating. But his strength when it came to this woman was nonexistent. He caved much sooner than he would’ve liked and feared he gave away much of his emotion in the process. “Of course not. If I turned you in, I wouldn’t get to go on another date with you and we can’t have that, can we?”

Aelin beamed. Slowly, as if he were a skittish deer, Aelin leaned in and rested her forehead against his. “Thank you, Rowan.” 

Tilting his head so that he could place a gentle kiss upon her lips, Rowan whispered “You’re welcome.”

The oven beeping broke them out of their little bubble that wholly encompassed them. It was at that moment that he could tell that Aelin finally smelled the melting chocolate and sugary goodness. 

Slowly, like a cat, her eyes met his, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Are those for me?”

Rowan shrugged, nonchalant. “Maybe.” 

Aelin softly swatted at him. “You’re a dork. But…” Her gaze was piercing as she pursed her lips, debating on her next statement. “But you’re my dork.”

Rowan could feel something in his chest alight at her statement. He was her dork. Given that he just found her on his fire escape after she stole a priceless heirloom, warning bells probably should have been going off in Rowan’s head. But all he could think was, “And you’re a thief. But…” He pecked her nose. “You’re my thief.”

A/N: Happy Day 2 of Rowaelin Month! I have some stuff planned though none of it written but I'm glad to have even gotten this piece out!

[delulu-is-the-soluluh]

Scars of Flames and Wind | Prologue

Next Chapter

A Dark!Rowaelin x afab!Reader

Author's Note: Hello! It is with great apprehension that I post this fanfic, which has been in my mind for almost a year, but is now finally seeing the light of day. It’s also the first time in 12 years that I’m writing again, so I’m quite rusty. English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance! It’s a long chapter! (Creating context for a fanfic set in the canon era of the eight books made me rethink my life choices, but I’m not backing down!) I hope you enjoy it, and I would love to receive feedback <3

General Warning: Throughout the story, there will be Dark!Rowaelin, DubCon, possessiveness, extreme jealousy, low self-esteem, and many questionable thoughts and actions. There will be some creation of information for the sake of the plot but without straying from the canon, I promise.

Warnings: In this chapter, none; Flashbacks; Aelin’s parents as special guests.

Orynth, 10 months before the Fall of Terrasen

The library was silent and bathed in the afternoon sunlight, with the sounds of  turning pages and scribbling on paper echoing through the room. Rhoe was intensely searching for some information that could help in training his niece’s power. Despite being distant relatives and her presence being only due to a future agreement, he cherished the intelligent and fearless girl she was. But her ability to manipulate earth, from a long-forgotten and diluted dynasty in the Ashryver genealogy, was growing rapidly, and without any other living relatives like her and many of their records lost, it was becoming harder to train her abilities.

With a long sigh, Rhoe diverted his gaze from the paper to his daughter, Aelin, who had insisted on coming to study with him, under the pretext of “spending more time with her father” and learning more about “whatever he was learning.”

With a soft smile on his face, he watched her. Aelin was sitting in an armchair ahead of him, holding a book up to her eyes, without turning a page for quite some time. With a low laugh, Rhoe realized that his daughter was alternating her gaze between the page and his niece sitting by the window, drawing in her notebook, unaware that she was being attentively admired.

Aelin had come just to be close to Y/N. His smile dimmed as worry washed over him.

Aelin couldn’t help but notice how her hair shone in the sunlight, how her irises became lighter, and how her skin seemed to glow as she traced lines upon lines in her notebook. It was... mesmerizing. The fantasy book was already forgotten; she couldn’t concentrate on a single word. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t. She just felt her cheeks warm slightly, using her book as a shield against her blush.

Was this what it meant to like someone? Her heart beat faster when Y/N was around, and her mind often wandered to the moments they spent together. So it was different from friendship... right? She had heard stories about her uncle Orlon and how he liked Darrow more than a friend, and that had never seemed strange to her. But now, feeling something like this for Y/N left her a bit..confused

A memory of the conversation she had the day before with her aunt, Marion, came to her mind:

Aelin was sitting in the garden, surrounded by the flowers her aunt Marion lovingly cultivated. Spring was at its peak, and the air was fragrant with the scent of the flowers. She looked at her aunt, hesitating for a moment before asking the question that was on her mind.

“Can I ask you something?”

Marion smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind Aelin’s ear. “Of course, dear. What do you want to know?”

Aelin took a deep breath, nervous. “Uncle Orlon and Darrow... they like each other more than friends, right?”

Marion paused for a moment, surprised by the question, but her smile remained gentle. “Yes, they do..”  she squinted her eyes, already knowing where this was going. “Why the question?”

Aelin took a deep breath, thinking about how to ask her that. “How do you know when you like someone like that? How do you know it’s more than friendship?”

Marion held Aelin’s hands, looking into her eyes. “Liking someone like that is a special feeling. You feel your heart beat faster when you’re near that person, and you think about them all the time. When you’re with them, you feel a happiness you can’t explain. It’s a type of affection and care that goes beyond friendship.”

Aelin bit her lip, still a bit confused, but her aunt’s words began to make sense. “And if I feel that for someone, but it’s not a boy?”

Marion smiled, caressing Aelin’s face. “Love doesn’t choose genders, Aelin. What matters is how you feel. If your heart says it’s love, then it’s love. And that’s something beautiful, regardless of who it is.”

Aelin felt relieved but still confused at the same time. “But... how can I be sure if it’s really that? How can I be certain?”

Marion thought for a moment before answering, her words filled with kindness and understanding. “Aelin, love isn’t always something we can define clearly. Sometimes, it’s confusing and complicated. But if this person makes you happy, if you feel a special connection, and if your heart beats faster just thinking about them, then maybe you already have your answer. Don’t be afraid to follow your heart.”

Aelin nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. Marion’s words echoed in her mind as she tried to understand her own feelings.

Back in the library, Aelin looked at Y/N once more. Marion’s words resonated in her mind. Maybe it was more than friendship. Maybe it was something special. She wasn’t sure yet, but she knew she wanted to find out.

Plains of Theralis - Terrasen, 6 months before the Fall

The field stretched out before them, a vast green expanse that seemed to lose itself on the horizon. The sun was high in the sky with vibrant heat. A light breeze carried the fresh scent of the earth and wildflowers, mixed with the distant sound of birds singing.

Aelin, with a daring smile on her lips, gracefully and confidently pulled the reins of her horse. She cast a challenging glance at Y/N, her blue eyes shining with the promise of fun and competition.

“Let’s see if you can catch me!” Aelin shouted, her voice filled with contagious joy and a hint of provocation.

Y/N, feeling the dense wind on her face, smiled back, her heart racing both from the race and the attention of Aelin. She spurred her horse forward, leaning in with determination. “Get ready to lose!” she responded, with a glint of challenge in her eyes.

As they raced, Y/N couldn’t help but get lost in the sight of Aelin. The way she moved, with wild freedom and natural grace, was mesmerizing. Her laughter, free and vibrant, seemed to echo across the vastness of the field, blending with the sound of the horses’ hooves hitting the ground.

Aedion, riding a bit behind and enjoying the competition, watched the interaction with an amused smile. He approached and shouted, “Show offs! I don’t want to be the third wheel here, so don’t worry about beating me!” he teased, his tone filled with humor and lightness. Y/N laughed as Aelin cast a challenging look at Aedion as she sped up even more, the wind blowing strongly in her face.

Last Beltane before the Fall

The festival was full of life and renewal. Bonfires blazed in the shadows of the night, casting a golden and dancing glow over the smiling faces of the people. The heat from the flames mixed with the fragrance of flowers and herbs adorning the place, colorful clothes and floral adornments decorated the participants, who moved to the rhythm of festive music.

Aelin and Y/N were at the center of the celebration, jumping over the flames with contagious laughter, their shadows projected on the dancing flames. The joy on their faces was palpable, and the heat of the fire seemed to reflect the flame of their own feelings. The sound of folk music and laughter mixed with the crackling of the bonfires, creating a symphony of celebration.

After a jump over the last flame, Aelin stopped dancing, and with a soft smile and a special glint in her eyes, she pulled something from her dress pocket and approached Y/N.

“I have something for you,” Aelin said, handing Y/N a small velvet box.

With her heart racing and the heat of the festival still vibrating in her bones, Y/N looked at the box with curiosity. “What is it?” she asked, her tone curious and eager.

Aelin smiled, her gaze fixed on Y/N as she watched her reaction. Y/N opened the box and found two delicate necklaces, each with a unique pendant. One necklace was adorned with a radiant sun pendant, and the other with a crescent moon. The light from the bonfires reflected off the jewelry, casting small sparks that seemed to dance in sync with the music.

“Aunt Marion made them for us. So that we always remember each other, no matter what happens,” Aelin said, her voice joyful and slightly hoarse from the celebration. She put on the necklace with the moon pendant for herself and held the necklace with the sun pendant, offering it to Y/N.

Orlon and Darrow watched from afar, their gazes attentive to the scene unfolding before them between the little princess and her future lady-in-waiting.

“Doesn’t this worry you at all? It’s good to see the girls together, but don’t you think this little crush could cause a new...linear impasse?” Darrow said with slight concern, his eyes still on the girls as they put on the necklaces for each other.

Orlon maintained a serene look at the two, still unaware of the agreement proposed not long ago: Aedion would marry Aelin in the future, with Y/N being the queen’s lady-in-waiting, a general, a bearer of wildfire, and a geomancer of the rare and forgotten Montserrat lineage.

But the “innocent crush”  had everything to become something more in a few years, and that was visible to everyone. Some servants even dared to say it could even be a mating bond that caused them to get along so well and never be apart.

“Well, if that’s the case, maybe Rhoe should start ordering another little princess as soon as possible to keep the agreement in order!” Orlon jokes, his eyes shining with humor.

Darrow couldn’t help but laugh lightly, even with the weight of responsibility still hanging in the air. “Let’s see how this unfolds, then. We still have time.”

Orynth, Hours Before the Fall of Terrasen

The day in Orynth was shrouded in a tense and anticipatory atmosphere. The unexpected visit of the King of Adarlan and his son, Dorian, to the kingdom of Terrasen had alerted everyone, even after deciding to give them a warm reception.

During the dinner, where royalty and the closest members of the court were gathered at the table, Aelin struggled to maintain her composure after rejecting Prince Dorian’s friendship, which was quickly rebuffed with his comment that he ate like a little lady.

Moments later, without any warning, Aelin felt a pressure in her head as a sudden burst of heat emanated from her body. Flames erupted around her, dangerously close to the curtains and ornaments. The guests recoiled, some shouting in surprise, while the Terrasen guards rushed to control the situation. Aelin's eyes were wide with terror and frustration as Y/N, amidst the chaos, swore she saw the King of Adarlan watching with a cold smile on his lips.

The dinner ended abruptly, and a quick decision was made: Aelin would be taken to a country house, far from Orynth, where she could learn to control her powers more safely. Her parents and a few guards would accompany her.

Hours later, as night started to fall, determined to comfort Aelin, Y/N sneaked into her room. The castle was silent,  as she entered the room unseen, finding Aelin sitting on the bed, her eyes still vacant from the events of the dinner.

“How are you feeling?” Y/N whispered with concern.

Aelin looked up in mild shock, her shoulders relaxing slightly at the sight of Y/N in her room. She tried to smile, but the effort was evident.

“I’m fine.” she answered quickly. “ It’s just.. it’s getting harder to.. you know, controlling these.. ” She replied, while raising her hands, voice quiet but trying to stay light. It was bad enough she had been banned from the library, her favorite place, because of them; having an episode like this, in front of everyone...

Y/N gazed at her for a moment and moved closer, sitting beside her. They sat in silence for a moment, just feeling each other’s presence. Aelin sighed deeply, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"You've got this, Aelin. You always do.. Plus, you're not alone in this. At least they know what to expect, right?" Y/N said reassuringly. "Unlike my power, which is completely unknown, and I'm the only one who has it."

Aelin laughed lightly and before she could give her a smart remark, Evalin appeared in the doorway, her expression surprised but soon replaced by gentle concern.

“You shouldn’t be here, Y/N... Come on, let’s go back to your room,” she said, her voice firm yet kind.

Y/N resisted, holding Aelin’s hand. “I just wanted to know why she can’t stay here! Or maybe I could go too! Lady Marion is going, can I go too?” she complained, trying to give Evalin her best puppy eyes.

“Because...” Evalin hesitated. What excuse could she use? She didn’t like lying to the girls, but if she said it wasn’t safe, it would not only spark more interest but also add more reasons for her pleading. 

“Because someone has to stay here to keep Prince Dorian company, and Aedion... well, he’s not the best at it, is he?” Evalin sighed, giving the most generic answer she could.

However, it was not entirely false. Aedion was still on bad terms with the princeling for spilling tea on Aelin’s dress. 

Y/N huffed before getting up from the bed and hugged her, not noticing that one of the sun’s rays from her pendant had caught on Aelin’s still-scorched blue dress, tearing and falling onto the bedspread.

Aelin noticed and tried to warn her, but she had already left the room with her mother. With her eyes fixed on the chain, Aelin quickly wrapped it around her own, the pendants connecting, the sun encircled by the crescent moon. “I’ll return it later.” she whispered to herself.

But later, Terrasen was attacked.

The castle of Orynth was under siege. Flames licked at the stone walls, casting eerie shadows as screams echoed through the corridors. Adarlan, whom they had once welcomed as allies, were now ruthlessly burning and killing everyone in sight. The betrayal was a sharp dagger into their backs, a cruel twist after extending hospitality to those now wreaking havoc.

Aedion shielded Y/N with his body, keeping her safely behind him as they navigated the chaos as the last two survivors of Orlon’s personal guard guided them to the secret passengers . "Stay close," one of them muttered, gripping his sword tightly.

Y/N's eyes were wide with terror, tears streaming down her face. Her mind raced to Aelin, desperate to know her fate. "What about Aelin? What about Uncle Rhoe and Aunt Evalin?" she whispered to Aedion, her voice trembling.

Aedion's jaw tightened, his own worry evident despite his attempt to remain calm. "They'll be fine," he whispered back, "Aelin is strong, and so are Rhoe and Evalin. They have guards with them, they’ll be safe." his furrowed brow betrayed his own fear as his words sounded to not only reassure Y/N, but also himself.

They hurried down a narrow corridor, the guards pushing aside a tapestry to reveal a hidden door. "This way," one of them urged, ushering Y/N and Aedion into the secret passage. The door led them to the edge of Oakwald Forest, their only hope of escape. But as they emerged into the dim light of the forest, they were ambushed.

Adarlanian soldiers surrounded them, swiftly killing the guards who had been guiding them. "Run!" one of the dying soldiers shouted, his final act a desperate bid to save them.

Y/N didn't hesitate. She sprinted into the forest, her heart pounding, while Aedion drew a sword off the grass and followed, cutting and attacking any enemy that tried to block their path. Seconds felt more like hours, their skin and feet now bruised and scratched by the bushes as they entered the dark forest, the trees now looming like silent sentinels, and the sounds of battle faded as they ran deeper into the woods.

Y/N's breath came in ragged gasps, her mind a whirlwind of fear and grief. The betrayal, the loss, the uncertainty of their survival weighed heavily on her. Aedion was right behind her, his presence a small comfort in the midst of the nightmare.

As they reached a small clearing, they paused, both panting for breath. Aedion's face was grim, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of further danger. “You’re okay?” he asked breathlessly, while scanning her with his eyes looking for any more serious wounds. 

Y/N was panting, breathless from running. Her body was caked with dirt and marked with cuts, her face streaked with tears that left trails on her cheeks. Her eyes were wide, lost and frightened, as she reached for her neck and realized her necklace was gone. She whispered Aelin's name and Orynth's, her voice trembling, lost for words.

Aedion felt the earth beneath his feet start to tremble, a subtle vibration that grew stronger as Y/N spiraled deeper into her panic, awakening her powers. He cut the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her, nestling her face against his chest beneath his chin, while his other hand gripped his sword tightly. He held her close, grounding her in the present and calming the tremors, ensuring they wouldn't attract any unwanted attention.

 "We'll find Aelin," he said, hugging her from the side, one hand on her head, the other still with a firm grip on the sword. his voice firm despite the sadness in his eyes.

"We'll find them all, I promise."

[aelinschild]

Dropping this and running away.

Regular evenings seemed to come less frequently these days.

Aelin remembered when the drip of some leaky floorboard was the sole pace of her shifts. The dripdripdrip a marker of seconds passed. Ticking in the back of her skull like a pulse she'd long forgotten. A beating heart settled - put down. It's gentle sounding no different than a petulant child. Itching underneath her skin like the uncomfortable scratch of wool gone too long without washing.

She had grown fond of the noise, though. Like the hand of a clock steadily raced forward, so did that godsdamned floorboard. Racing against time, or the composition of the building in it's entirety. She didn't know. Didn't care.

Much of what she did here was just for the wad of cash slipped under worn tables. Hands cracked and peeling - slivers near her nail beds. The blood lasted on the money, so long as it stayed with her longer than a night.

It was why she was still here. Still watching the same game of poker begin for its thousandth consecutive time. Roucous chatter drowning out the drip. The sound of heavy coins denting the rotted wood.

Funny, how it was strong enough to pierce her skin and simultaneously bend to the weight of a piece of silver.

She didn't take well to the irony.

Her shifts had for so long been the same routine. Serve the regulars. Pocket a coin from the gaggle of grannies, crammed into the recess in the wall. A little alcove. Made great shadows to conceal the trick of fast hands and faster tongues. Wipe down the tacky residue that accumulated faster than she could keep track of. Argue with the old man from across the street - he didn't like the (outrageous) fractured neon lights. Pity for him, because when he was knee deep in his points, face red from exasperation, pulling out a chair had the most similar movements as a sly hand into a pocket. Cool cash crawling up her sleeve. He'd leave in a huff and Aelin would be a little lighter when she missed back behind the bar. Then the night would roll in on itself. Drunkenness a curse of this corner of the Earth, she was only powerful enough to keep her head above water and do her job. Close the bar. Count the cash. Wire it away and consider mourning the loss. Until she wouldn't and was back behind the counter.

That was her normal.

And so when her flagging gaze swept across the floor, the appearance of a new piece on the board made her falter. She wished there would be more reaction than the stuttering of her eyes, wished that she felt something deeper, drawn from newness, but there was nothing.

Nothing walked closer to her. She had the thought to smile, make herself pleasant, but the action didn't follow. Nothing laid large hands upon her bartop, the one to her right (nothing's left), crawling with whorls and scribbles. Like a child had gotten a hold of a tattoo gun. How unfortunate. Those hands - large, uncomfortably so - were attached to arms. Shocking, she supposed, as her eyes crawled up along the weaving tattoo. Golden skin and visible definition could have heated something in her. Maybe it did, maybe it had been so long she no longer knew what heated her core.

"...neat,"

Hm?

The dripdripdrip was gone. And with it took the clarity borne from acute annoyance. Hands, arms, shoulders... Was she warm? Or was she losing it?

"Love."

Like a fog had descended over her minds eye, snapped away as quickly as it had formed at the call of that petname. Love. What?

She balked. "Pardon?"

He - nothing, nothing of nothing who is nothing and of no effect to her - pursed his lips. Rolling the flesh between teeth, tightening the hinge of his jaw. Gods, there was definition there too. The angle of that jaw raised to high chedckbones, a tinge of red, pulsed with life. An overwhelming urge to follow that rise and fall, trace the hollows and contours. Feel along the strong brow that framed pine green eyes. Eye that sparkled. Eyes that tightened. Eyes lined with mirth...

"You work here?" He gruffed. The smirk in his eyes didn't reach his voice. But that voice... She'd love to compare it to crashing waves, smoothing over jagged rock. Endlessly leaving a print on what was considered impenetrable. But it instead stroke along a frayed edge in her. Breaking, rather than soothing.

A pause. Where were her words? "Yes."

"Right," he murmured. Muscles flexing as he rapped his knuckles along the worn bartop. She wanted to tell him to not. Grab his fist in her own and hold tight above the shitty wooden slab. Cover it with her own. "Then I'll get a whiskey. Neat."

Crawl over the tanned skin. "Of course." Trace the inked designs. "Just give me moment." Litter a marking somewhere.

Something tangible.

-

"Yes!"

She didn't know how it had really happened.

Well, she did. She had played her part, and now was enjoying the outcome. Somewhere along the lines of him ordering the whiskey, leaning only lightly against the barstool, delicately draped like he was ready to spring up at a moment notice. She had wandered around. Who knew that dust collected so quickly on tables that were just cleaned? Repetitive movements only let her drift into the sensation of green eyes pinned to her back. Lower, even.

She needed extra cleaner from the back. And it was only an accident that her hand grazed his upper thigh. She had practice in the deft movements that could steal a pretty coin, but her fingers didn't dig in, clasping around valuables. Rather, she had grazed the worn jean. Lighting a blaze, trailing the fire down to his knee.

It had pulsed in her core as she walked to the back room. The bar quieter, different to the usual rowdiness of a Saturday. She had swayed her hips a little more. Sensual machinations coming back like the flip of a switch. She felt a buzz in her head, unlike a dripdripdrip of a leaky floorboard.

It was stuffy. Her face so close to his, the height difference didn't serve them well at first, until he had hoisted her up around his waist. Her legs locking her tight. She had felt the heat of his body. Felt the heat through the clothes - get them off - felt the heat from her body, emanating out in a pulsing rhythm.

She had been panting. Breath coming out faster and faster as she wiggled her hips to tuck deeper into the hardness she felt pressing into her core. Writhing would get her nowhere when he was holding her in his arms. Her mouth found the underside of his jaw, and she sucked hard.

His groan was music to her ears.

Her apron fell. Ripped apart by those large hands. How much could they hold? He was surprisingly deft with unbuttoning the front of her dirty blouse. Button after button, down until he could rip it from her waistband, and shuck it off her shoulders.

Her bra was nothing special. Some department store sale piece, but it didn't matter, because it was off just as quickly and she was bare from the waist up.

"Off." She tugged at his shirt, taking a break from marking up his neck. She wanted to feel him against her. Skin to skin. She needed the contact more than anything. She was burning.

He had leaned her back, still in his hold. A little rough, her head nearly crashing into the wall they were pressed up agaisnt. She'd forgive him though, when he snaked one arm behind his head and expertly peeled the shirt from his torso.

Gods. Gods above, was this her lucky night. The tattoo wound all the way from his wrisr to his neck, matching like a puzzle along his chest. Corded with muscle, Built from genuine use, she could tell. This man was not built of aesthetics.

Her fingers found the hardened planes of his stomach, pressing lightly along the muscles. It tightened under her hand. Palms pushing agains the tautness of his abdomen, she didn't know whether to trail back up to his mouth, or push lower.

"Hold on," he bit out. Breathless just as she was.

She dug her nails into the shoulder she was tracing, his hand snaked to the button on his jeans. Her breaths came more rapidly now. Blood rushing through her ears. It was hands and tongues and teeth and no other thoughts. Nothing but what would come next. Nothing at all.

The zipper was so loud amongst their panting. But it was pulled down, and Aelin made a effort to shuck off her pants as well. But where her thighs were stretched around his waist kept her from making any further moves. She wanted nothing between them.

"Hurry up," she hissed, pressing herself back against him.

He shuddered when she pulled him tight, nails digging deeper. She hoped they would mark him. Stay with him longer then this moment. "Gods." It's not soft the way he shoves them closer into the wall. The way his hand is under her nondescript panties in seconds. Burning a trail along the most intimate skin. He stalls there for a second. Aelin is pulsing; in her head, in her blood, in her cunt.

His eyes find hers. Green and vibrant and swirling and dark. All blown wide with lust. He keeps her trapped there, pinned by his gaze while his fingers swipe along her folds. Through them, deeper until they wetten with the arousal she surely though was dripping down her leg by this point. He traces along for a moment, and she has half a mind to snap at him to hurry it up when his thumb is pressing into her clit so hard she sees stars.

She squeaks out a breathless yelp.

"You're soaking," he drawls, mouth coming down to the skin at the coloumn of her neck. He breaths into her, breathes her in. "Just waitin' for me, weren't you? All pretty behind your bar top."

She would roll her eyes if they weren't already at the back of her skull from the pleasure. He kept a steady hand on her clit while rough fingers slipped back through her folds, down to where she needed him most. Yes. The roar in her head heightened.

"Please..."

He hummed. "Please what?" A smirk, in voice or against her skin, she could not tell "Please who?"

Fuck. She hadn't gotten his name either. They had tumbled into the closet so quickly, bodies pressed so close, that introductions had been skipped. She thought she could make it throigh without his name. But this bastard was going to hold it over her head.

Fingers traced around her entrance; probing, waiting.

"Please... Sir. Fuck me."

He laughed. She jostled with the movement and his fingers pushed against her just right. "I'll let it slide," and with little pause, he pushed in. Slicking in quick, easy, the slide only assisted with the way she was falling apart in waiting for him. Two - two - fingers stretching her wide and pushing that rising wave higher. She keened a breathy whine when he curled those rough fingers. Pressing hard into that spot inside of her she could never reach herself.

His breath curled around her ear. He bit the shell of it before murmuring "But you better call me Rowan. No Gods or Sir. I want to hear my name from those pretty lips."

She nodded, feverish for more. He bared his teeth in a satisfied smile, increasing the pace of his fingers inside of her. She had hardly noticed when he swapped his thumb for the heel of his palm against her clit. But she felt it now. Pushing against her whole he slicked up her panties. The wave rose higher and higher.

"Rowan!" She cried. "Ah! Don't stop... Please."

"Wasn't even thinking of it, love." He kept her trapped under his gaze. And she wanted to look away when her jaw dropped in white-hot pleasure but something in his eyes promised to hurt if she did. "There you go, pretty girl." She moaned at his comment, riding high after the crashing of the orgasm. She could feel every press of his fingers inside her as he stilled them, still sensitive even after the rush of pleasure.

And oh, was she riding a fine line. Legs a little shaky and breath hurried. But when Rowan pulled out - to her displeasure - and brought those hands to his face, to his mouth, and licked her clean off of them.

She whined. A pitchy sound that worked its way out of her as he stared into her eyes, licking along the crevices between fingers. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he quickly shoved those same fingers against her tongue and pressed down. Freezing her there.

"Taste like heaven, love. But that was only the first course"

Jeans ripped off and pants pulled down. She swapped the wall against her back for cold air. Stiffening nipples to an even harder peak than what they had come to in post-orgadmic bliss. More more more, she changed in her head. She was so sensitive and so ready and so-

She squeaked. He had pulled himself from the confines of his underwear. She has missed it. Blissed out with the feel of him against his chest, but he was there, notching against her entrance in hasty movements.

He eyes met hers, "Condom?"

Fuck her. "I'm on the pill."

His grin was feral. His grip tightened to a near bruising hold. She felt his cock prod at her entrance, and he pushed it around, catching on the arousal she had spilled. At least he had prepped her. She hadn't seen his size, had felt it, yes, but this man seemed like he was blessed, if only judging by what she had already seen.

The moment spans, and her what desire jumped thrpigh her at a rushing pace came to a near stall. The dripdripdrip threatening to return, when the air was punched from her lungs as he pushed up, up and into her in one stoke.

"Ah! Rowan!" She choked. Stretched so full she felt him in her stomach. Tears brimmed her eyes as the stretch ached. Gods, the prep wasn't enough, and the tight grip on him must have let him know, as he held still, caressing her back and down to her ass, before his hand snaked back around to her clit.

She moaned, sharp little breaths as he circled his finger with enough pressure to relax the tightness in her body. She hadn't noticed, but when she looked up to his eyes, wanting to see him fully, his jaw was tensed so tight that the muscles of his neck pulled. Was he in pain?

"Ah... Rowan, wh-whats wrong?" Her tears brimmed and fell over. A loosening in her core and a rushing through her mind. Every sensation was a fire lit inside of her, so much so that she didn't notice as the pain morphed into pleasure, and how she could feel every ridge, every vein, of his cock inside of her. Inside of her, gods, he needs to move.

"Nothing," he gave a shallow thrust, Aelin keened. "Jus' squeezing me so fuckin' tight I can barely breath."

"Y-yeah?" She laughed, salty lines tracing down her face. "Gonna come?"

The words were out of her mouth before she had really considered the implication of them. She was no sadist, liked the high better then the route there, but something in her tingled (beside his cock, nudging deeper and deeper with every breath) at the fire that lit in his eyes.

He laughed, a deep rumble from within, and moved. Soon, they were back up against the wall. Aelin squeezed him so tight, wanting some pleasure and wanting it now. And maybe she was egging him on more. But when Rowan tossed her legs up above the crook of his elbows - rendering her immobile - and pulled out, she almost came again there.

He pushed back in with so much force that her hands came up to cover her mouth. He set a relentless pace, hair falling over his brow and beads of sweat beginning to form at his brow. He leaned over her, pushing closer and closer and testing the limits of her flexibility. Aelin was still moaning, but it was punched out in a yelp every time his cock shoved deeper inside. The slick noises only added to the lewdness. "You gonna come? Huh, love? Gonna come for me now or do I need to fuck you harder?"

He was teasing her.

He leaned down, she dropped her hand, expecting his mouth to close over hers. But he just smirked. When his tongue traced the lines of her tears, licking all the way up her face, she closed her eyes and let go. Falling deeper into the sensation.

It wasn't long before he bored of licking her face. His mouth did finally come to her, and she let him into her mouth so fast that her head was spinning. He still thrusted in, a relentless thwap at every entrance inside of her, and she felt the wave rising again. She traced up his abs, winding around his shoulders to grip onto his hair and pull, just as he pushed in so deep she saw stars.

"Come," he growled. Tiny little movements only to plant himself deeper inside. The roaring came back to her head and she nearly screamed when it hit her. Harder than anything she felt before. Harder than she knew how to handle. Rowan groaned above her, and that was it.

He came inside her. Flooded her cunt so thoroughly it was actually uncomfortable. And it dripped down when he pulled out with little celebration. She whined at the loss of him. Whined more when he set her on her feet and stepped away.

"Thanks, love." He said, breathless and reverent. She felt lost in the aftermath. Head empty and body shocked.

"Yeah. Yeah, no problem...?" It came out as a question and she didn't know what to think. He grabbed a tissue from someplace and offered it to her. Well, at least he did something. Strange and beautiful man. Rowan, oh Rowan.

"Fucked you so hard you forget how to think, huh?" He smiled. Less feral than before, but still the edge of a knifes blade inside of those green eyes. She just nodded, reaching for her clothes that had been scattered on the floor.

She guessed that he was giving her space to come down, giving her a moment. But it crashed into the dirt when he gripped her chin between his forefinger and thumb and searched so deep into her eyes. He held her in his grip, both naked and reeling, and said, "don't shut me out, love." Before he pressed his lips to hers again. Kissing the roaring in her head to a stop and breathing something into her. Something she'd like to hold onto.

"I'll be back. Proper date and all soon, alright love?" He said as he stepped into his pants. Dressing with all the grace he had exhibited while fucking her a moment ago. What? He just moved for the door, shucking his shirt back over those beautiful shoulders and hiding the length of his tattoo. "Don't wander too far away anytime. I don't want to waste my time chasing."

The door opened, just a crack, "I'll see you soon, Aelin."

When Aelin was clothed and less in mental limbo, she pulled on the conversation (one-sided). Some deep, darker part of her was satisfied to see the nails marks she had driven into his back. Some tangible sore he'd no doubt have to clean up, if he wanted the blood off. She smiled to herself.

It wasn't until she was stepping out of the backroom that she realized Rowan had called her Aelin. Had said goodbye to Aelin.

She had never told him her name.

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixty-eight

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: I said I was back, and I meant it! Anyway, if you haven't read the last update, this is the second update this week. That's right. New Chapters 67 and 68. NSFW-ish warning.

Aelin was exactly seven minutes early to her interview. She’d spent the last week emptying her closet and putting together the perfect outfit – a sweater dress, tights, and boots that were just the right level of put together – and mapping out exactly how long it would take to get to Xavier’s house, so she could feel the most prepared walking in. She would not be late to the most important meeting of her life. No way.

She slid out of the jeep and waved goodbye to Rowan, who promised to be waiting at the closest coffee shop until she was ready to be picked up. She assumed it’d be around thirty minutes, but she honestly had no idea how long this interview would take. It wasn’t like she had any experience. Looking around, Aelin took a deep breath and took her first step down the long driveway and toward her future. She gained confidence with each step, feeling her stride lengthen and solidify as her chunky boot heel crunched the gravel beneath it.

They were definitely in the wealthier part of Orynth, closer to where Lysandra’s family lived. Sprawling lawns and expertly manicured greenery dotted her winding path. It felt so different than her own tiny street with closely stacked duplexes and shared family homes that she felt a small tug of insecurity before reminding herself that she was prepared for this. Both her dad and Rowan would attest to that. She’d put them through their paces, going over the “best answers” to potential questions that ranged from her favorite book (The Secret Garden — to lead into her thoughts on why lack of autonomy within the disabled communities is a problem) to what she planned to study (an interest in biology and pre-med with flexibility to also take liberal arts classes) all the way to challenges she’d had to overcome and how she’d  personally be an excellent addition to the Wendlyn community. Those were too complicated to boil down into small snippets. But she had the bullet pointed lists laid out in her head, ready to be explained and fully ready for engagement. Honestly, as nervewracking as this whole situation was, she felt prepared. She reassured herself one more time, scrolling through her list of answers over and over, until she reached the oversized front door. In the middle of it all was a door-knocker so large and cumbersome she hoped she could lift it.

Another deep breath. She could do this. No matter how rich and fancy this person was. Whatever laid on the other side of that door, she was ready and prepared for.

She inhaled, filling up her lungs with extra reassurance, but as she lifted her hand to raise what was surely a heavily weighted solid brass knocker, the wind was completely knocked from her chest. Of all the things she had prepared herself for, she had not anticipated this one single thing that could fully derail her.

Before Aelin knew what was even happening, she could feel herself shrinking at the sight before her. She’d know that perfectly coiffed hair and polite smile anywhere.

“Mom?”

“Aelin,” Evalin said, leaning in to kiss her on both her cheeks, surely leaving behind smudges of her burgundy lipstick on Aelin’s pale cheek.

She leaned back and looked Aelin up and down, her crystal eyes pausing and practically flinching at the tiny snag in Aelin’s tights. She’d only had that one pair and even went over it with clear nail polish to make sure it wouldn’t pull or run more, fully assured that Xavier wouldn’t be looking at the side of her shin where her boot met the tights. But she hadn’t anticipated Evalin’s eagle eyes pulling apart every slight detail, searching for anything out of place to berate her for. “Don’t you look lovely,” Evalin continued, though the downturn of her lips as she touched Aelin’s sweater dress gave her real feelings away. Evalin chuckled as she stepped aside, letting Aelin enter into the large dark foyer. 

“Why don’t you take off your coat, darling?” Evalin said, reaching her hand out.

Aelin cleared her throat, trying not to let the slight choking feeling overtake her and draw in a steady breath as she finally got out a soft, “Mom, what are you doing here?”  

If Evalin was fazed in the slightest, she didn’t show it at all. But Aelin had never felt so small. She had worked so hard to put together this outfit, and now that her mom was looking at it, she knew it was all wrong. The sweater dress had been put through the wash one too many times, tiny pills forming in its most worn spots. Evalin would have shaved them off. Or bought Aelin a new dress. She’d make sure that Aelin had a fresh haircut, none of her desperately-in need-of-trimming dead ends left unevenly past her shoulders. She tugged at the sleeve of her sweater dress as her coat disappeared from her shoulders, suddenly feeling naked without it. There was a tiny thread coming undone from the hem of the sleeve, and she knew that without a doubt Evalin would clock it. The woman missed nothing. She should have tugged it and tried to remove it immediately, but all she could feel was shock and horror. Needing something to do, she untucked her hair from behind her ear, letting it tumble forward, but of course that was the wrong thing to do. Aelin could never do the right thing. Be the right way. Be good enough to keep her mom happy. To keep her around, even. 

She swallowed the thick lump in her throat as Evalin frowned and straightened her shoulders back, warning Aelin silently to do the same. As she retucked the thick gold wave behind Aelin’s ear, her furrowed brow melted away, replaced by a smile only reserved for others. 

“Xavier, please meet my beautiful daughter, Aelin,” she said with a sweep of her hand. It took everything in Aelin not to flinch as the hand gestured toward her. Instead, she donned her most polite smile — ruing the way it felt like an Evalin reproduction — and bowed her head and curtsied, instinctively.

Xavier chuckled. “Oh, my. Look at that,” he said as his elbow nudged into the air by Evalin’s side. “Impeccable manners, of course. I would expect nothing less from an Ashryver,” he continued, his tone light as he ushered Aelin further into the cavernous foyer.

Xavier was everything she should have expected but was somehow unprepared for. He was Evalin in male form. His thick blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, swooping gently over his forehead in a way that told Aelin is had taken hours of work and product to get it to look so natural. He was tall but reedy, like someone who spent a lot of time mixing up green smoothies, per his personal trainer’s request. His navy suit was clean and pressed, sharp with creases that told the world he was someone with something important to say. Shiny cufflinks glinted in the mid-afternoon sun, and Aelin knew if she looked close enough they’d be monogrammed with a flourished script.

“But no need for formalities,” he continued, oblivious to Aelin’s turmoil. “Your mother and I go way back. In fact, our parents’ parents go way back. Evie and I were friends long before our time together at Wendlyn.”

Aelin nearly choked at the use of the nickname for her mother. She’d never heard anyone address her as anything other as her full name, and it took Aelin aback that this man was not only allowed to use this familiarity but received a smile in return for it.

“We were bred in the same kennel, as my father used to say,” Xavier said scratching at his too clean-shaven chin. It was red and shiny and Aelin wished she could stop staring at it and listen to him again. “I can’t remember a holiday I didn’t spend with the Ashryvers,” he droned on.  But Aelin’s mouth was faster than her filter. 

“But I’m not an Ashryver. I’m a Galathynius,” she said. Two pairs of eyes widened but melted quickly back into an amused gaze. 

“Hi, ho. A spitfire, just like her mom. That’s the Ashryver spark for sure,” Xavier said, ignoring Aelin’s growing discomfort.

Because she wasn’t an Ashryver. She was a Galathynius. 

“Who, me?” Evalin batted her lashes and giggled, feigning innocence. Flirting. Aelin’s mom was flirting with this man. This alum. Right in front of her. She swallowed again, biting down the ire rising in her throat. She hated it here. She would do anything to send a fire signal to Rowan to come and pick her up immediately, but, no. She had an interview to complete still. An alum to impress. Aelin could feel her heartbeat quickening as she realized that she still had an interview to complete. That her mom would bear witness to this whole thing. She just wanted to get it overwith and be out of her presence as quickly as possible.

“Can we get started?” Aelin cut off the man, who was clearly surprised. 

“Ah yes,” he fumbled with his thumbs and shoved them into his pocket before taking one back out and gesturing down a long dark hallway. “The study is right this way.”

Study. So formal.

She looked down the long hallway and tried her best to grasp at any of the tendrils of her waning confidence, but it was fruitless. Aelin had never felt so out of place, like such a fraud. Here she was, pretending to be Wendlyn material, but that wasn’t her; that was Evalin.

Evalin, who had grown up with this man, knowing that her future held the glowing promise of a Wendlyn future. Evalin walked through this home as if she belonged there, looking completely at home. But as Aelin traversed the dark portrait-lined hallway down to the study, she could feel the sharp stares of the painted faces judging her with every cautious step. You don’t belong here, they seemed to mock, their pinched noses and haughty smirks watching as Aelin’s chunky boot heel step on the delicate mosaic tile beneath her feet. She didn’t want to think about how expensive these fancy floors were, and the fact that her $20 boots were most likely leaving black rubber smudges against them.  

While Lysandra’s family home was fancy, it was nothing like this – whereas her house was bright and wide and open and modern, this expansive home was dark and crowded with ornate moldings and décor that felt like it could close in on Aelin at any second. She managed to keep her feet steady, despite the long walk down the seemingly never-ending hallway. She could hear Xavier maintaining casual conversation with Evalin, but Aelin stayed quiet, fully focusing on maintaining her stride and praying that she wouldn’t stumble and fall or accidentally break something. Foreboding crept up Aelin’s spine as Evalin fell into pace beside her and smoothed out the fabric of her sweater dress against her back. She could feel her picking off an imaginary piece of lint from the shoulder just so she could dig her fingers into her bicep and pull her close. 

“Behave, please,” Evalin whispered through clenched teeth, causing Aelin to stumble, just as she’d feared she would. “Careful, darling,” Evalin drawled in a much lighter tone. “These floors are priceless.”

“You break it, you bought it,” her mother and Xavier said in unison as he pushed open the door to his study. They both laughed as it was something hilarious from their youth, but all Aelin heard was – You’re not one of us. Again and again and again.

Aelin blinked at the harsh expanse of daylight that filtered through the floor to ceiling windows lining the wall of the study. Thick burgundy drapes were pulled back to allowing a shock of grey-white sky to cast its milky pallor over the dark wood room, somehow leeching it of any warmth, despite the burgundy and mahogany color scheme. 

“Ah yes, it’s quite the view, isn’t it?” Xavier chuckled as he gestured to the frost-laden yard that seemed to go on for miles and miles. “You can see the mountains in the distance on a clear day. When we first bought this place, the neighbors behind us were trying to plant trees in our view, which turned into a bit of a legal battle. But it ended up alright. We bought them out, and now we have a perfect view.” His voice was haughty with pride at the notion of buying someone out of their home. Aelin’s stomach curled at the notion that one person could be so selfish. But still, she put on her best smile and nodded politely. Evelyn would tolerate no less.

Still smiling smugly, Xavier waved Aelin over to the large leather loveseat where Evalin was already perched. But Aelin didn’t want to sit next to Evelyn. She couldn’t think with her hovering so close — all her well-prepared answers had floated to the recesses of her memories, blocked by the constant perusal of her mother’s perfectly controlled facial expressions. But as Xavier slid into the arm chair across from them, Aelin was at a loss. There was nowhere else to sit. She’d have to sit next to her mother.

As she slid onto the stiff couch, the skirt of her dress rode up slightly, catching on the leather. But before she could even it out, Evalin was there, doing it for her. Always hovering. Always watching. Aelin didn’t even realize that Xavier had asked her a question, until she heard her mother’s sharp whisper. “Don’t be rude, Aelin. Answer.”

“Hm?” Aelin’s head whipped up, watching Xavier face lips tug downward into a slight frown.

“Xavier was just asking what you’re interested in studying?” Evalin repeated, her blue-grey eyes staring a hole into Aelin. 

Aelin knew she had an answer for this. She’d talked about the phrasing with Rowan over and over about why it was actually a benefit that she wasn’t completely sure what she wanted to study yet. That it allowed for… curiousity? Flexibility? No, that wasn’t what she’d wanted to say. The words were completely mixed up in her head, and she couldn’t make heads or tales of them. With every flash of her mom’s eyes, Aelin’s rehearsed answers disappeared further and further until all that was left was a gaping black hole of confusion in her anxiety-addled brain. What was she supposed to say? She had no idea. Literally none. She couldn’t do this. Oh god. She couldn’t do this.

Aelin swallowed back the threat of tears as she croaked out a quiet, “I don’t know.”

“Aelin has many interests,” Evalin jumped in, placing her perfectly polished nails on Aelin’s knee. “She’s trained in ballet and is extremely creative.”

She should have said something about how she had just joined Orynth’s Dance Company. About her time spent teaching last fall, how dancing was for fun and she wasn’t sure she’d want to pursue it professionally but she loved that Wendlyn had recreational dance teams she could participate in. That was the answer she’d rehearsed. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t seem to make her mouth and brain work together.

“Ah, so perhaps a performing arts major?” Xavier asked. “I myself studied the bard and was in a play or two back in my day. Wendlyn has a thriving theater department. We even have quite a few celebrity alums,” he continued, oblivious to Aelin’s complete mental shutdown.

“No,” Aelin said. Apparently she couldn’t even explain more than that. She could see the corners of Xavier’s eyes tightening uncomfortably as he watched Evalin’s hand grasp Aelin’s knee – the edges of her dark red gel tips sinking into Aelin’s tights, as the conversation plummeted into a dead silence.

“Right,” Xavier cleared his throat, clearly at a loss. Aelin could feel her stress welling as he continued, hopeful, knowing that her next answer was sure to be another disappointment. Just like her entire being. “Well... perhaps you’d like to tell me about why you’re interested in Wendlyn?” he asked.

And though Aelin knew she had a full essay response for that exact question, she simply shrugged and let him continue his list of questions, each one said with less curiosity as Xavier realized what Aelin had feared: she wasn’t Wendlyn material. And with each question and answer, Aelin knew her chances of getting into college with Rowan were quickly disappearing.

. . .

Aelin had been in a mood in the days following her interview with Xavier and she who shall not be named. But, she was trying her very hardest to keep a smile on her face and pretend like she was totally fine. Mostly because today was Rowan’s first lacrosse game of the season, and he needed her in the stands cheering him on, not sulking about her botched interview. It wasn’tthat she wasn’t a fully supportive girlfriend, but she wasn’t feeling particularly into lacrosse — the sport that was fully responsible for handing Rowan a future that she so clearly wasn’t going to be a part of. She wanted him to do well, but an uncomfortable feeling of panic was pressing against her chest, and it was taking everything in her to put a smile on her face. And Aelin was a lot of things, but a spectacular actress was not one of them.

To Rowan’s credit, he was letting her feel her feelings without pushing. He’d asked how the interview went upon picking her up, and Aelin had simply snapped and said, “Bad.” When he pushed for any more information, she shut him down completely and she could feel a thick wall of armor rising. She’d been furious, practically shaking with anger, but for some reason, hadn’t want to share her mom’s surprise appearance with him. She’d told him that she’d talk when she was ready, and even though she knew he wanted to push, he accepted what she’d asked for. She wasn’t ready to talk about it. She had other things to think about. Like figuring out any other plan for her future that still included Rowan.

Which is why that Friday morning, she donned her green and gold best, tied her long braided pigtails with the #47 ribbons she’d decorated in puffy paints last year, and woke up early to grab a few special treats for her boyfriend on his big day. Before this whole debacle, she’d asked Maeve if she could make a batch of Rowan’s favorite peanut butter cookies, decorated like his jersey, and sure enough, they were waiting on the counter with two coffees when she let herself into their townhouse. She could hear the shower running upstairs, along with a loud blaring bass of one of Rowan’s pump-up playlists, and she forced herself to take a deep breath and push aside any traces of residual insecurity and focus on Rowan. It was his big day, and she knew he was nervous. He always was.

Within minutes, she heard his heavy step skipping every other stairs as he descended into the kitchen where she was waiting, and his smile upon seeing her there temporarily melted away her bad mood entirely. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get over receiving that look from him.

“Happy game day, Captain,” Aelin said, smiling widely.

His arms surrounded her, sliding beneath the hem of her shirt, as he leaned in and pulled her against his chest. He smelled warm from his shower, and she took a moment to inhale the comforting scent of his pine body wash combined with something just innately Rowan.

“Coffee?”

She held out the cup in his direction, but he ignored it in favor of kissing her. Who was she to disagree? She let herself melt into it, letting her anxieties disappear for the moments his mouth was on hers.

“Missed you,” he mumbled, and she couldn’t help but laugh against his lips.

“You saw me less than nine hours ago.”

“Too long.” He pulled her even closer and went back in for another kiss, this time with more fervor. His tongue slid between her lips, and she could feel herself getting slightly carried away as their bodies pressed together even tighter. Her grasp on the coffee cup in her hand was getting dangerously loose when he finally pulled away, resting his head against her forehead and bringing the coffee to his lips.

“Mmmm. Delicious.”

“Me or the coffee?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

“Both.” He leaned in and kissed her one more time. “I wish we had time to go upstairs, but…”

“Someone has a game to kick ass in today, and missing first period is probably a bad way to start that off, huh?”

He nodded sadly, but the mischief didn’t completely leave his green eyes as he looked her up and down. “But maybe during lunch?”

Aelin couldn’t control the burst of laughter that bubbled up her throat. “A pre-game warm up?” she teased.

“Always.” He let his hand fall to the swell of her butt, pinching it lightly and causing Aelin to yelp in surprise.

“Be nice or I’m not giving you your cookies.”

Rowan raised his brow. “You baked?” he asked, rightfully skeptical. After all, he spent most of his time with Aelin and he would have definitely noticed if she’d disappeared to Maeve’s for a few hours without him.

“I had help,” Aelin said, procuring the tray of decorated cookies.

His excitement couldn’t be contained as he leaned back in for yet another kiss, but Aelin knew that if they kept this up they definitely would be late for school.

“Later,” she promised, hoping that would keep her spirits afloat.

But as soon as she waved goodbye to Rowan in the hallway, all her doubts came flooding back. She parsed through every second of her time with Xavier and her mom, wondering if there was any world in which that interview could have been construed as positive, but she knew in her heart the truth. She had bombed. Big time. Not just a minor bomb. That whole afternoon had been a full nuclear wipeout with no survivors left standing. She’d killed her own opportunity, and she’d never forgive herself for it.

By the time lunch came around, Aelin was so deep into her self-pitying wallowing that she felt like she was being suffocated by negativity. She’d hoped that seeing Rowan would brighten her spirits, as it had this morning, but apparently that’d been a fluke. She was just as prickly as ever, barely even smiling when he greeted her with a giant bear hug, spinning her around the hall in an exuberant whirlwind. In fact, her mood was made even worse by the flurry of cheerleaders who giggled in his presence, blushing as they wished him luck in tonight’s game. She practically hissed as one got too close, flashing her canines in feral warning.

“Ease up, Ace,” Rowan chuckled as he led her out to the far side of the parking lot where the jeep was parked.

“Stupid fucking cheerleaders,” she grumbled as she slid into the back seat. She was so in her head that she barely even noticed Rowan driving to their special secluded spot — a nearby parking lot that was midway through some sort of construction when it had been fully abandoned. She was sure the crews would come back one day, but for now, it was perfect for their, uh… needs.

Rowan joined her in the back seat and pulled her onto his lap with skilled ease, as if they’d been doing this for years, rather than merely weeks. But it was good. She was on full autopilot. Aelin’s body knew exactly what to do without being in her brain at all. Her hips rolled against his lap as his fingers tangled in her hair, clashing their teeth together in a harsh mingling of breaths and low groans. She didn’t wait for him as she pulled her top off, and allowed her head to fall back as his mouth trailed down her neck and to the bare expanse of her cleavage. Gods, she loved him so much. What was she ever going to do without this? She tried to imagine a world where she didn’t get to be this close to Rowan, but all she saw was a gaping painful hole in her hear heart. She felt her throat closing slightly and swallowed down the threat of emotion she’d careful kept walled up all week.

“Ace?” Rowan looked up at her with concern, clocking the change in her breathing, but she forged forward. She would not lose any time with him. She’d take advantage of every second they had together. Clothed and unclothed.

“I’m good,” she reassured him,

But she knew he could feel the slight waver in her touch as she reached down to his waist to unbutton his pants. His green eyes flashed in warning, but she ignored it, pulling him into her hand and tightening her grasp exactly as she knew he liked it. Autopilot.

Her hands regained their surety as she continued, lulling Rowan into a state of blissful arousal. She leaned in and bit his exposed throat as he leaned further into the seat, moving his hips into her hand. Her mouth opened and sucked at his skin. Hard. She wanted anyone who saw him to know that he was spoken for. That he was claimed. That he was hers. No matter what. She never wanted anyone else to know him like this, and she could feel her pulse stutter as she even considered the possibility of that. No.

She needed to refocus. Without removing her mouth, she reached for the condom he’d placed beside them on the seat and opened it. She leaned back just barely enough to make room to place it on him, not wanting to give him any space. That was the opposite of what she wanted. She could hear him groan a loud expletive as she slid on top of him and started to move. He fit so perfectly. No one else would ever fit like this. And when it was gone, she’d miss it so, so, so much.

“Oh, Ace.” She thought he was moaning her name in pleasure, but it wasn’t until he said, “Aelin, baby, stop,” that she clocked the tone was actually of concern. His face was blurry, and as she blinked, she felt that her cheeks were fully wet. Unbeknownst to her, silent tears had welled and dripped from the corners of her eyes in full, hot streams. “Baby, stop,” he said again, his hands going to her hips to still her, but her autopilot refused.

“No, it’s okay,” she said thickly. “I’m okay.”

“Aelin, you are not okay. You’re crying.”

She tried to keep her legs in a vice grip around his hips, but he was fully in control as he pulled her off of him and tucked himself back into his pants.

“No, no,” she croaked, her tears pouring out in earnest now. “We can keep going.”

“Ace, we’re not going to have sex while you’re crying.”

“I’m not crying,” she sniffed as his hands came up to her cheeks, wiping his thumbs against them. That seemed to be the thing that cracked her open, a full sob releasing from her mouth as her shoulders shook with the weight of the past few days. Rowan shushed her gently as he pulled her against him, rubbing comforting circles into her back. But she barely felt a thing. All she could feel was the hot sting of embarrassment and shame.

“Do you want to talk about it finally?” Rowan asked, but Aelin shook her head into his shoulder.

“N-no.”

“Okay.”

And she knew that he meant it. He’d sit there, erection still throbbing in his pants as she cried it out silently. That only made her cry harder. She owed it to him to tell him what had happened. She didn’t even know why she’d kept it to herself. Maybe she’d just wanted to pretend for a little longer that the future she’d imagined for them could happen.

“I blew it,” she finally said.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Rowan said. Her body was suddenly exhausted, and she couldn’t sit upright anymore. Or maybe she just couldn’t look at his face during this conversation. Instead, she slid until she was slumped across his lap and cuddling into the soft fabric of his pants. She struggled to calm her breath as he ran his dexterous fingers down her back and up again.

“You may as well break up with me now,” she sniffed.

Rowan’s hand paused on her back and tilted her ruddy face to look up at his concerned gaze. “Ace, I thought we talked about this. No matter what happens, we’re not breaking up.”

“That’s what you say now, but…” Another wave of tears took over as she sobbed. “What if you meet someone else? Some pretty and smart Wendlyn girl who fits into your world?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Rowan asked, seeming genuinely perplexed as his finger pushed aside the stream of tears on her hot cheek. “You fit in my world perfectly.”

“But all those girls at Wendlyn are going to be from upstanding families with two parents whose names are on libraries, and I bet they wear real pearls and have perfectly painted nails that are never chipped, and—”

“Aelin, what the fuck are you going on about? Why would I care about any of that?”

She bit her lip, sniffing back another round of tears as she finally told Rowan about Evalin’s surprise appearance and how of course she couldn’t have gotten that interview without Evalin’s help, tugging on those elite strings. And how clear it became that she was anything but that.

Rowan scratched at her scalp, and she leaned into his comforting touch.

“I don’t use the word hate lightly, but I fucking hate Evalin. What she did to you, surprising you like that with no warning was completely fucked up. She should have told you she was going to be there. Leaving you unprepared like that wasn’t going to help your chances, even if she thought being there would. You deserved a heads up. And the fact that she didn’t think you did just shows how little she understands about life. And you.” He took a deep breath. “And it’s okay to feel fucked up about what she did. But, Ace, it’s not okay to think I’m just going to suddenly disappear from your life if you end up at another college. That’s not going to happen. Never. Ever ever. I’m going to be in love with you for the rest of my life. Forever.”

“But—”

He held up a finger to her lips, shushing her. “But also, one person’s review of you isn’t going to make or break your college admission. You don’t know what anyone thinks of this Xavier dude. He could be hated! They could have him interview people as a barometer for who not to accept.”

“That feels highly doubtful, Ro,” Aelin laughed through the remnants of her tears. “But I appreciate your optimism.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s not over until the school year starts. And even then, it’s not over. Best case scenario, you get in with me for the fall. But there are a hundred other things that could happen before then. You could get waitlisted and get in, you could apply to transfer after a semester or a year, if you wanted. Or, other best case scenario, you love wherever you end up, and we still make this work with phone calls and video calls and weekend visits. Because I’m going to love you for the rest of your gods damned life, so stop trying to get rid of me,” he said, poking her cheek with each pointed word. “It’s insulting.” He paused, looking her over thoroughly, and it felt like he could really see through her in that moment, and she could hear his words before he even said them. “I’m not your mom.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Because I definitely don’t have my last name on any libraries. And I couldn’t tell you what a real pearl looks like if a million dollars were at stake. And guess what? I bite my nails, and the only reason Evalin even came around to the idea of me is because Wendlyn became interested in me. You think that I feel like I’m going to magically fit in there, but I doubt many students were raised by their single aunt and grew up working in her restaurant. I don’t have a trust. That’s why I needed this scholarship.” He paused. “If we’re weighing which one of us belongs at Wendlyn more than the other, only one of us is a legacy there, you know?”

“Okay,” she whispered, but the hurt was still so raw, and she felt ragged from her marathon of crying. She could feel Rowan still hard in his pants, and she felt awful. She went to reach for him, but he sternly put her hand back by her side.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“But—”

“We’ll celebrate after I win the game tonight,” he said.

And true to his word, they did.

[highqueenofelfhame]

playlist // book cover

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Timeless [Immortals]

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

The world is large and time may be endless, but it's all an exciting adventure with the right person beside you. Inspired in part by Timeless by Taylor Swift, Immortals by Fall Out Boy, and by my own historical research fixations. Also a tiny bit of Istanbul by They Might be Giants

A/N: I will say I wanted to flesh this out a bit more and had a whole plan on how to, but I started a new job recently and I haven't had the energy to keep writing during my free time, so I edited what I had and have it here for you to enjoy. I also wanted to write for a bunch of Rowaelin month days but I think this is all I have in me for now.

Finally, I just have a fair warning: I got really into slang words in this. i had way too much fun with them, so hopefully its understandable lol

Masterlist | Rowaelin Month | Read on Ao3

6494 words

Written for Rowaelin Month 2023 - Day 1: SongFic

*******

Morning light peeked through the curtains fluttering around the open window of their living room. She could faintly hear the sounds of the neighborhood filtering through – cars cruising by, a riding lawnmower cutting clean lines into the grass, a couple of kids out riding their bicycles, and the steadily growing music of an ice cream truck. 

“Rowan, have you seen the��” Aelin trailed off as she realized her husband wasn’t in the room with her anymore.

He chose to go by his given name nowadays, reminding her again of their youth and all the best parts about learning how to grow up before the reality of time set in.

She was sitting cross-legged on the plush rug, combing through a box of mementos she’d found tucked away between stacks of old books.

She must’ve been more distracted by them than she had thought because when she looked at the clock, nearly two hours had gone by and Rowan, who had been sitting in the armchair across from her, wasn’t there anymore. She did have a vague memory of a kiss being pressed to her forehead and hearing his muffled voice but she’d been too distracted.

Aelin gathered the things she’d been picking out and put all the photographs, letters, and trinkets back in their box, before getting up and carefully carrying it with her as she went looking for Rowan.

It didn’t take long. The man was out on their back porch, sitting on the wooden swing and using one leg to slowly rock himself back and forth. He wasn’t looking at her but she saw the smile on his face as she approached. He always knew she was there; he could always sense her. Aelin walked towards him and grinned against his mouth when she ducked down to kiss him, before unceremoniously dropping down onto the swing beside him. His rocking didn’t falter a second.

“Is that what’s taken your attention today?” He asked, nodding at the large, well-loved box she placed on the floor in front of them.

“Have you looked through this recently?” She let his question float away and started pulling out some of the forgotten treasures they’d accumulated.

Shrugging, Rowan leaned forward to get a better look and fondly bumped his shoulder against hers.

“Don’t think so,” he rubbed at the stubble shadowing his face as he thought about it. “Probably not since we moved in.”

Aelin hummed in answer and quickly picked through the papers. “I forgot we had all of this stuff.” She paused, thinking, and dove back into the box, this time with purpose. “Do you know where the portraits are?”

A light breeze blew a strand of blonde hair into her face and Rowan reached out to tuck it behind her ear.

“Which portraits?”

“You know,” she waved irreverently, “the ones done by…what’s his name?”

“Oh of course,” he amended seriously. “Those portraits.”

Huffing a laugh, Aelin fell back against the swing and swatted his shoulder as he chuckled. “You know who I’m talking about,” she insisted.

Truth be told, they’d had so many pictures taken and portraits painted that he didn’t know where to start with his guessing. His wife could be referring to anything.

“Leo?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Johannes?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Vincent?”

“Ugh,” she groaned, rubbing her hand down her face, “this is going to bug me all day.” A second later she popped back up and turned towards him with wide eyes, “Oh! You know what I really wish we still had?” she asked.

He wished they could have saved all their keepsakes, but that would’ve been impossible. “Not a clue.”

“Those busts we had back in Ἀθῆναι,” She said, her eyes growing distant as she fell back into a memory from their younger years.

He hummed, knowingly. “Those were nice. But I doubt they’re in Athens anymore.”

“No, I know that.” She said sitting back and leaning into him, getting closer as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I think the last time I saw them was in Constantinople.”

“Istanbul,” Rowan corrected.

“What?” she turned her face to see him from where she’d tucked herself into his side.

“It’s Istanbul.” He said again.

She blinked and then rolled her eyes as she understood what he was saying. “Well, it was Constantinople.”

“And now,” he poked her, earning himself a startled laugh, “It’s Istanbul.”

“Whatever,” Aelin snorted. “I still miss those statues.”

Rowan kicked one leg out and began rocking them again, careful not to overturn the box. “You know where they are,” he reminded her, “we could always go see them.”

She scrunched her nose up. “Yeah, but I don’t like paying an entry fee to see myself.”

The breeze picked up and the pair enjoyed a few minutes of quiet, broken only by the faint creaking of the swing and the birds and insects outside. She absentmindedly took his other hand in hers and couldn’t help but think back –

Back to when they were young and naïve and had no idea what sort of life they would have ahead of them.

Back to their beginning.

The land of their childhoods was rich, and their life a simple one. Most everyone around them were farmers or fishermen, soldiers or tradesmen. There were scholars, artists, and builders.

Aelin learned stories of gods and heroes and gave tribute to Athena, the patron goddess of her home. She learned how to weave from her mother, and waited for the day she was set to marry the son from a family her father wanted ties with.

Rowan worked and studied and then became a soldier, fighting in bloody battles across the city-states before he returned to wed.

The two had always known they would be married. Their families arranged it long before either Aelin or Rowan were old enough to offer their thoughts. But they were happy. It was well.

For a while, their life was as ordinary as any others in their Polis.

It wasn’t until the two of them had watched their families grow old that they realized their own lives were different. Unchanging. Everlasting.

They learned how to adapt.

The armor Rowan wore became stronger; the language of the orders being shouted changed; Democracy, philosophy, and art flourished. Wars raged. The land they lived on changed names and changed again.

Sometimes years passed when Aelin and Rowan were apart, separated for one reason or another. Other times, decades went by without notice, time losing the meaning it once had. But they always gravitated back to each other.

They met as Aelin Galathynius and Rowan Whitethorn.

They reunited as Aeliana Galanis and Romulus Whitheia.

As Eleyn Galliano and Rowland Whitton.

As Astrid and Warin.

As Alana and Royce.

There were some names they liked better than others.

They saw empires rise and fall. A world they once called home became ancient.

And as the world became more complicated – as royalty and religion shaped the nations, conquering and separating territories, as battles waged and revolutions erupted, as explorers flung themselves to the far reaches of the earth – Aelin and Rowan found their lives drifting apart from one another until they only had their memories and a knowing sense that someday they would find each other again.

"Whiskey. Neat." He drawled, dropping his dusty hat onto the bar top. The wood was scratched up from too many glasses missing their mark. And sticky, too. Not that he'd say so. He was a smart enough man not to complain to the lady behind the bar. Even it meant swallowing back a grimace at the thought of putting that hat back on his head. "Ma'am."

The woman was already halfway finished pouring the bottle. She had known it was him before he’d opened his mouth; but she smiled when his voice hit her, having recognized the sound of him walking ‘cross those old floorboards and taking a seat at his usual stool – the one right in front of her.

She’d had lifetimes to recognize him.

Still turned away, she shelved the dark bottle of booze back where it belonged.

For a moment, it reminded him of the day he found her here. 

He’d been up in Oregon near the California border, following a late wave of gold seekers when he caught whispers of a town a few days south of him, where a woman was holding down a claim to the saloon. A real Calamity Jane if there ever was one.

He knew she was somewhere out here, that she’d ventured west at the call of adventure. Hell, he’d braved across the frontier too, slowly working his way from ranch to ranch and crossing lands that didn’t exist on the maps he’d once held.

But knowing there was a chance of finding her again, and actually hitting pay dirt were two very different things. He had ridden into town knowing not to get his hopes up, but when he stepped into that saloon, heavenly shaded and cool from the high-noon sun, he knew it was her.

She’d been standing behind the bar with her hair woven into a loose braid tossed over one shoulder. Her well-worn clothes somehow suited her just as well as laced-up gowns, pirate’s trousers, or peploi of their youth. Her skirts were long but didn’t look heavy and she had pushed the sleeves of her blouse up to combat the heat. Around her waist, she wore a holster which didn’t surprise him one bit and he supposed running a saloon warranted the pistol that she’d slotted in there.

He was walking towards the bar before he knew what he was doing, and when she lifted her arm to count the bottles she’d lined up on the shelves, he caught sight of the small scar on her forearm. If he still had any doubts, seeing that blew them all to the wind. He could recall with deafening detail the day she’d gotten that scar, the spatha blade that gave it to her, and the Roman general he’d killed for it.

Her back was still turned towards him when he slowly sat down on the stool across from her.

“Aelin.”

In an instant, she went completely and utterly still.

She would know his voice anywhere. Know him anywhere. And even if she hadn’t, there was only one person who would ever call her by that name.

Lifetimes worth of memories flashed behind her eyes as her heart began pounding a thunderous beat. She felt like all the wind had been knocked from her, yet also it was the first time she could breathe in years. She wasn’t sure how that was possible. But then, she’d long since given up deciding what was possible and impossible when it came to him.

And her mind was putting in the licks like a six-shooter horse; like she was electrified.

Carefully setting the bottle in her hand back down on the countertop, slowly, so slowly, she turned to face him.

As they locked eyes a million different emotions flew across her face and he was sure as a gun his was looking the same.

She smiled, wide and bright, and her eyes lined themselves with silver.

“Linny,” she breathed, her first word to him in over half a century. “It’s Linn, actually, but everyone ‘round here calls me Linny.”

Her voice was dipped in that sweet, honeyed drawl they’d been surrounded by. And he laughed, feeling like the years just melted away because she did too. The kind of laugh that said more than words ever could.

A few men at a nearby table looked over to see what all the fuss was about, but it was a joke that only the two of them knew the punchline to.

And then, having been reminded that they had eyes on them, she was reaching across the old wood bar holding out her hand. “Linny,” she said again, still beaming at him, “Linny Gale. It’s a pleasure to meet you…” she trailed off with a knowing smirk.

He remembered every instance in which she had looked at him with those same twinkling eyes, and by the growing elation of her face, so could she. He cleared his throat and took her hand in his, smiling even broader when his roughened skin met hers. “Roe Wyatt.” Her smile softened into something special. “At your service, ma’am.”

Roe hadn’t known what came next for him, but what he did know was that she was here – staying. So, he stayed, too.

As she set the glass of whiskey in front of him, that day from almost a decade prior faded away and she brought him back with the small curve of her lips as she greeted him, “Sheriff.”

At least here, in this dusty town on the far side of the world, filled with desert rats still scrounging for that elusive gold, and where he's wearing the badge instead of running from it...at least here he gets to see her face every day.

*****

Life out here was tough, Linny knew that, but she liked it. And she liked it much more now that Roe was back in her life. Point is, she knew folks made their money any way they could, especially the women.

She’d seen enough life to know what it’s like when you don’t have the resources you need. So for every working woman who found herself under Linny’s roof, she’d be offered a spot as a barmaid, pulling in the pieces so they wouldn’t feel like they needed to work upstairs. But if they did, they wanted to - and for that, all the power to ‘em. Everyone who frequented her saloon knew that if they misbehaved themselves with those women, they’d be looking down the barrel of her shotgun.

The first - and last - unlucky man who mistook her for a painted lady didn't make it back out that door.

Linny knew her way around a broken bottle well enough that the Sheriff ordered another round and watched two of the regular old boys clean up the mess. Most of it, anyway. He knew there was still a spot near the end of the bar where the wood’s stained darker than the rest. She thanked him mighty finely for turning a blind eye, too. She was sweet on him like that.

To everyone else in town, it was a mystery why they ain't gotten hitched yet. They all saw the knowing glances and conversations with so many in-jokes it sounded like they were speaking a different language. She never accepted any other man’s courtin’ and folks from around these parts knew not to try anymore, especially when the Sheriff only ever had eyes for her.

They knew not to mess with Linny Gale, too, because if she didn’t get you first, the Sheriff would make sure you never stepped foot in town again; and if some Hay Seed thought he was quicker to the draw than Roe Wyatt, he either ended up food for the buzzards with a lead plumb between his eyes or was found crawling out the back of the saloon while the arsenic-flavored whiskey he got served hit its mark.

To everyone else, his calling on her was moving slower than molasses in January.

They didn’t know the half of it.

*****

“Howdy, Miss Linny. Sheriff.”

She half smiled at the old man taking a seat on a bar stool two over from Roe. She was already grabbing a glass and pouring as she asked, “What can I get’cha for?”

He chuckled when he saw she’d already poured his whiskey. “You know me too well.”

“And whose fault is that y’old honeysop,“ she laughed.

He’d gulped down half the drink and the skin at his eyes crinkled. “My mammy used to say that…honeysop…I ain’t heard no soul say that since ‘fore I could look over the dinner table.”

Her small smile was wistful as she wiped down the countertop and grabbed another glass, using a different rag she’d slung over her shoulder to give it a good wiping down.

“I’m an old soul.”

He chuckled; eyes distant, lost in a memory. “Yeah, m’ mammy was too.” He looked up and smiled the way he did at his little grandbabies, “A sweet thing like you is too young for that.”

Linny kept wiping down glasses sharing an automatic glance with Roe. A small smile graced her face as easily concealed mirth danced across his.

Setting the last glass down, she tossed the towel back over her shoulder and leaned closer to the older man. “Sweet talking me ain’t gonna pay off your tab, Rolph.”

“Always gotta try, ma’am,” he huffed a laugh and stood, finishing the last of the amber liquid.

Linny shook her head fondly and Roe lifted his hand in a wave. “This is the last one, ya hear?” The old coot held his hand over his heart and smiled before walking out into the blaring sun.

“How many last ones ‘ve you given him?” Roe asked, still nursing the drink she’d poured him a while ago.

A huff of air blew a stray blonde lock out of her face. “A few.”

“You’ll run this place out of business ‘f you keep doing that.”

“He’s sweet,” she rested her elbows on the bar and leaned in, “He’s been taking wildflowers up to Madam Briar’s twice a week. Sometimes I see them ambling together down by the general store.

“He don’t mean no harm. He calls me young and sweet; I like it.” She laughed and he smiled. “And don’t you be worrying about this place. She ain’t in trouble yet. I always overcharge those rowdy boys that breeze in from the next town over. Don’t know why they keep coming back, sure as hell not for my welcoming, not after one couldn’t hold his booze and was sick as a horse all over my floor.” She huffed indignantly but then shrugged. “But I’m keeping my shutters painted and bottles full ‘cause of them so they ain’t so bad.”

Most days were right as rain. Linny handled her saloon with little trouble, but if there was any left after she was done, Roe used his badge to finish it.

So, when some fella too big for his breeches moseyed on in, you could cut the tension with a knife.

The saloon fell silent, something Linny might’ve marveled at if it weren’t for the no-good Saddle Stiff who’d sauntered in looking for hell to pay. The man took one long look around the room until his eyes landed on Roe and the star-shaped badge on his chest.

“You the gunslinger ‘round these parts?” His voice was rough and hard when he stepped in front of the Sheriff.

Barely blinking, he eyed the newcomer up and down, then he took a long sip of his drink and looked him square in the eye before gesturing with his half-empty glass to Linny. “You best be taking that up with her.”

Scoffing, the man didn’t even look at her. “You that cowardly a Sheriff you’ll let some hussy take your beatin’?”

Any lingering whispers went completely quiet as Roe slowly stood from his stool. He had a few inches on the man and didn’t bother fighting off a smirk when the newcomer tried squaring his shoulders to look as big as him. The Sheriff held the man’s gaze as he finished the rest of his whiskey before stepping closer and looking down at the lunkhead.

“First off, partner,” Roe drawled in a low voice. “I don’t let her do anything. Second,” he stepped closer, forcing the other man to falter before regaining the ridiculous bravado he walked in with. “You come in here, rilin’ everybody up, hollerin’ for the man in charge, I’ll tell you this – you’re in this town, in this saloon – she’s in charge. And she don’t take well to outsiders walking in here acting like they know their ups from downs.

“Finally,” Roe took another step into the man’s space and shoved his chest with one hand before gripping the material in his fist and hauling him up. “You ever call her that again, you’ll really have to deal with me, and you don’t want to deal with me after spitting on this here lady.” He leaned closer and practically growled, “You won’t be walkin’ ‘way from that.”

Roe let the man drop back down flat-footed and watched as he stumbled but looked between the Sheriff and Linny who’d been watching the scene. He made some sort of decision and went to open his mouth trying to say shit nobody wanted to hear but before he could get two words past his gullet, Linny reached into her skirts, pulled out a loaded pistol, and aimed it straight between his eyes.

“Get your lousy ass outta my establishment.” She cocked the gun, not batting an eye. “Or I’m ‘bout to have another dead body on my premises. That ain’t gonna look so good to the Sheriff.”

Said Sheriff caught the bead of sweat finally dripping down the man’s face and shrugged. “Don’t know nothing ‘bout no body.”

Linny smirked and flashed him a wink before refocusing on the man standing on the other side of the bar. “Now, you gonna get back on that ruddy horse of yours that’s scaring all the fillies outside?” she asked. “Or are you gonna make me get my floors dirty?”

Having no sense of what he’d walked himself into, the man looked her up and down holding that pistol with a steady hand, and scoffed. “That supposed to scare me, Calico Queen?”

Roe slammed his fist on the bar and gripped the man’s shirt again, but Linny’s brows just shot up.

“Oh, you ain’t scared of this old thing?” she asked airily. One second the pistol was pointed at him, the next the flickering gas lamp in the corner of the saloon shattered in a rain of broken glass as a bullet lodged itself in the wood directly behind it. “That was giving me a damn headache anyway. What about this one?” she set the pistol on the bar and reached below it, pulling out a long shotgun.

The front doors came swinging in hard enough to crash against the walls as they pivoted on rusted hinges. Another man, a local who helped tend the horses, ran in breathless unaware of what he’d walked himself into.

“Sheriff!” he panted. “Need your help breaking up a brawl out front.”

Roe looked at Linny who had the situation very much in hand and let go of the scamp who wouldn’t be breathing much longer. Adjusting his hat, Roe nodded to her. “Duty calls, ma’am. For both our sakes, when you pull that here trigger, at least corral him outside will ya?”

“Fine by me, poppet. Less mess in here for me to clean up.” She smiled at him. “That’d be all yours to handle, Sheriff.” 

And it was.

And they stayed in that town until they couldn’t.

And then they left. Together.

“Where do you want it, Ace?”

Annie – Ace – pulled out her deck of luckies and lit up a butt, inhaling and blowing the smoke out in a practiced ring. The alley she was standing in was blocked off from the main road and, for extra precaution, always had a protective pair of eyes on the entrance; not that anyone would notice the guards, she was too smart to orchestrate anything so obvious.  

Keeping her face neutral, she surveyed the haul of smuggled liquor brought to her by one of the active bootleggers in their employ. The two men behind her stayed quiet; stoic, as she blew another smoke ring. She spotted in a second that the poorly concealed unease radiating off the man wasn’t because of the loaded weapons either of her boys was carrying. She looked the bottles over once, twice –

“You’re just the bees’ knees, Cal. Always bringing me the best.” She indulged him a bit, pulling the cigarette from her mouth, and watched the tension ease out of his shoulders.

“Anything for you,” he grinned shakily and kept fidgeting. The damn sap was sweating bullets. He tried making small talk and she let him think he was getting away with it for another minute before she stopped him from lamming off.

“One thing, you old Mug,” her voice dropped all sweetness, and as she stared him down, all the blood drained from his face.

Jerking her head at one of the trouble boys behind her, he wasted no time in pulling out a gat and pointing it at the idiot who thought he could fool her.

“Do you take me for a Dumb Dora? A patsy?” She asked steadily, smirking when she heard the trigger being cocked. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know the fucking difference between profitable giggle juice and piss-poor hooch.”

The man was shaking now but she had no patience for disrespect. Not here.

“I—I don’t, I don’t know what you’re spittin’ about, Ace.” He stammered.

“That’s Mrs. Thorne to you.” She corrected him, arching a brow. Turning on her heel she ignored Mr. Weston’s pleading and said to her trigger man, “Don’t make a mess. This damn alley smells bad enough.”

The other man who’d been standing behind her reached for the door holding it open for her without a word. She flashed him a smile and walked back into the speakeasy. Annie was immediately surrounded by raucous laughter and brassy jazz music, it was just enough to drown out the shot fired behind her and the thud of a body hitting the ground.

*****

Owen loved the sound of the big band. It never got old, no matter how many nights he spent sitting in this drum, putting down glasses of champagne. He liked even better, that no one bothered him at his table in the corner – no one he didn’t want bothering him, that is.

He especially liked it because he had a clear sight of both doors, the stage, and the bar. Not to mention he never had a problem picking his Ace out of the crowd. The club may have been bedecked in lights and gold, but his wife always shined brighter.

Tonight, he spotted her standing next to a young doll who looked scared enough just to be standing in a juice joint, let alone able to enjoy herself. But the longer he watched them, the more at ease the girl looked in Ace’s company.

“Don’t be getting the jitters, now,” Annie rubbed a comforting hand down the girl’s arm. She couldn’t have been older than twenty, and it was obvious she’d never been in a place like this before. “You see those fellas in the corner there?” she nodded towards a pair of men halfway through a bottle of gin, each with a fine damp on their laps. “Those boys are coppers.”

When the young girl looked back, startled, the blonde laughed and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Lose those heebie-jeebies. You’re safe here.”

Annie looked over the girl’s head and saw that her man was already looking at her. Like always. She gave him a subtle nod, which he immediately returned, setting down his glass and gesturing to one of the men standing to the side of his table. Ace didn’t need to hear him to know what her husband was ordering. 

“No one in this joint is a danger to you, you have my word.” At the girl’s still skeptical look, Ace smiled conspiratorially at her. “Take another look around, you see that handsome guy sitting there – no don’t stare – people in here listen to him. And he listens to me.” She leaned in closer and the girl finally smiled, making Ace’s smile wider. “He is absolutely dizzy with me. Now, let's get you a delicious glass of bubbly,” She snapped at one of the nearby waiters who came by and handed the girl some champagne. “Relax here at the bar and listen to our sweet canary sing. I heard her practicing her verses earlier and she's lovely.”

Leaving the girl in good hands, Annie snagged her own glass of champagne off a passing waiter and strutted across the dancefloor towards Owen. Her dress shimmered under the lights as she flounced to her husband’s table which was now occupied with a couple familiar faces. He didn’t falter in his conversation as she gracefully draped herself across his lap and wrapped an arm around his neck, carding her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Ace,” he squeezed her hip in greeting, “you remember Lore and Fen.”

“Ain’t you a looker,” Fen winked, and Annie smirked, feeling her husband’s grip on her hip tighten.

“Down boy,” she chuckled, crossing one leg over the other and subtly leaning closer into Owen’s embrace.

“They were just telling me,” he explained to her, “that our buddy at the station got word some Dry folks want to take matters into their own hands.”

“They don’t think the coppers are doing their job,” Fen leaned back, smirking. “Not finding and shuttin’ down all those corrupted, underground joints.”

Annie snorted and turned over her shoulder to look at the two Johns drinking away with badges hidden somewhere in their jackets. “I think they’re doing a swell job.”

Her laughter was echoed by Owen and Fen, but Lore just rolled his eyes at her flippancy.

“Those damn teetotalers think they’re so high and mighty,” The man gritted out, glaring daggers at the policemen in the corner – darkly enough Annie was surprised the boys didn’t drop dead on the spot.

“Cut it out, Salterre,” Annie chastised. He redirected his glare to her and even though she felt Owen stiffen, she merely smirked at the glowering man. “If you keep up looking so sore, people are bound to notice, and then those fellas will get made. It won’t take a genius to figure out why a man sitting comfortably at this here table is looking to pop one of them off.”

“I don’t think Salterre has ever sat comfortably.”

None of them paid Fen’s comment any head, but Annie’s smirk widened just a fraction.

“Yeah?” Lore goaded, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it between his teeth. “And why would that be so bad?”

Before she could answer, Owen beat her to it.

“What, you killing them? Or someone noticing you want to?”

“Both?” The dark-haired man asked, unconcerned. “Either? No one’s gonna be crying over a couple less coppers.”

“Get your head out of your ass, Salterre.” Annie snapped, staring hard at him. “You kill them? That comes back to bite us. I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re smart, but I know you have eyes.” She ignored his sneer. “Look around and tell me how many people are in the club? Tell me how many people would be able to say that they saw those boys here.”

“So? That’s bad for them, not us.” He shrugged dismissively.

Annie downed the rest of her champagne and wished for strength. “No one in here but a few of us,” she looked pointedly around the small circle, “know they’re coppers. Anyone else would just know that they recognized those two goddamn faces in here before you supposedly cut ‘em down. That leads questions coming back here, to our establishment, to you, to us. That is not what we fucking want. It's the whole fucking reason we pay those boys off in the first place – so that they won’t be bringing questions around here. We help them, they help us. That’s how this works, rattlecap.”

Annie snapped her fingers and a fresh glass of champagne found itself in her hand. She took a long sip before threatening, “If you think you’re above all that, then I’ll be handling you myself.”

Lore didn’t say anything when she raised her brows at him, he just shifted his gaze to her husband as if he would contradict or chastise her. Owen leaned back in his seat, pulling her with him as they settled into the plush cushion.

“You heard the lady,” Owen simply said, instead.

And with that, Fen started snickering and Lore stretched his arms out on the edge of the booth as he silently seethed. The band picked up the first notes of a new song that had Annie twisting on her husband's lap to listen to the music.

When she rested her head against Owen’s he squeezed her hip again and fondly muttered, “Ace.” Some days it was her sweet nickname, on others it was a curse, and sometimes, like right now and said in a way that made her turn to press a red-lipped kiss to his cheek, it was a prayer.

*****

The wind roared around them as their car sped down the road. Owen was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other half-hanging out the window. Annie smiled as the scenery flew by in a blur. Tall buildings and crowded streets gave way to green foliage and open land.

The engine purred and she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. She’d seen a lot of discoveries and creations, and she always wondered how they could ever get better, but they usually did - things always evolved and spurred the invention of new things. She remembered the journeys in horse-drawn carriages and knew that back then she wouldn’t have been able to dream of a day like today, flying down the roads in a beautiful car, the engine powering them to its limits.

Getting close to the house, Owen pulled off the main motorway and took a winding, private road that wound them beneath blooming trees, their canopies painting the pavement in shade.

The house wasn’t extravagant; in fact, it was incredibly modest. It was something her husband had built in his early days on this continent. Long before the Great War, before the Gold Rush, before the Civil War, and revolutionary battles. Back when they both were searching for something new and took those leaps, journeying across the ocean.

Their lives sometimes felt like swinging pendulums, positioned closely enough to intertwine, drawing them together indistinguishably, but angled just so and pulling them apart when they least expected.

As she reached for Owen’s hands and intertwined their fingers, squeezing once, she vowed to never let that happen again.

It wasn’t long before they’d brought their bags in and decided to take a walk along one of the trails beyond the house.

“Do you think we have to worry about Lore going rogue?” She asked quietly, leaning into Owen’s arm.

“No, I don’t think so,” he shook his head, carding one hand through his un-slicked back hair. “He has a temper but he’s smart. Worst he’ll do is give ‘em some words, but he wouldn’t do worse than that. He knows it’ll only go bad.”

“I think you give him too much credit.”

“I think you give yourself too little,” he countered, and at her raised brow he chuckled. “He’ll put up a fight, but he won’t cross you.”

Annie hummed. “As far as he’s concerned, you’re the one he should be holding back for.”

Owen barked a laugh. “If you honestly think that he doesn’t know who is really calling the shots then you are severely underestimating him.”

“I’m not underestimating his intelligence. I’m insulting his lack of tact.” She told him as they kept walking. “You know we work together; I know we work together; they know we work together; but most of the fellas packing heat and doing the work still think you have the final word. And that works because it allows me to do things I need to do without as sharp an eye watching my moves. 

“And if Salterre keeps pushing, then it won’t be long before everyone knows exactly how I can handle things – and that will be bad for both of us.” She pulled back and smirked up at his amused expression. “How do you think our supply is the best in town? Because I go out and make friends with all those grimy bootlegger’s dames; and between us ladies, things get done, arrangements get made, deals get sorted. And then, without watchful eyes on our lovely, delicate selves, we get our fellas to follow through with those deals…and the world goes round.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, agreeing. “Enough about that. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Good.”

“And, Ace?” he laughed again, “You and I both know that every son of a bitch who works with us knows damn well that you’re packing as much heat as any one of them.”

They fell into companionable silence. There was no one in the world she felt as comfortable around.

“Do you remember when we got married?” She asked him suddenly.

“Of course, I do, Ace. It wasn’t that long ago.”

Her dress brushed against her legs as the breeze picked up.

“No, not this time,” she said. “I mean the time during the revolution.”

They kept walking steadily as he thought. “Which one?”

“The European one,” she elaborated.

He glanced down at her again. “Which one?”

“Oh, stop you sap,” she nudged his rib fondly. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Yes, I know what you’re talking about.” He stopped them and turned her to face him. “I remember every wedding I’ve had with you. I remember every ceremony and every dress. Every officiant. Every wedding night. And the only – only – thing that is good about the years when we’ve been apart is that every time we were, I knew I had one thing to look forward to: finding you again and getting to learn who you’ve become.”

“Ἀγαπῶ σὲ,” Annie whispered, silver-lined eyes staring up into his deep green ones.

“Te amo.”

“Ti amo.”

“Je t’aime.”

“I love you.”

**************

Sitting on their aging porch swing, Aelin found herself sorting through faded pictures. There was one of them in a poodle skirt and leather, of flared bell bottoms and disco lights, of wild hair and rock concerts they still sing along to. There was one of them from New Year’s Eve, bedecked in glitter and tassels that had been shot off the moment that the millennium ended. And another one, taken a few seconds later – thank you Polaroid technology – of Rowan dipping Aelin, his arms wrapped around her as they both smiled too hard to really keep up their kiss, as they welcomed a new day, a new year, a new century and millennium. Giddy about what was to come.

“I think that’s enough reminiscing,” she finally whispered, reorganizing the images and replacing the lid on the box.

 “Yeah?” Rowan asked, just as quietly.

Aelin smiled, pressed a kiss to his lips, intertwined their fingers so their wedding bands glinted in the fading light, and answered, “Yeah. For now.”

*******

@acourtofsnakes @a-frog-with-a-laptop @astra-ad-mare @autumnbabylon @backtobl4ck @bankerfrog @becarefuloflove @camerooonchiu @captain-swan-is-endgame @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @doubt-less @earthtolinds @elentiyawhitethorn @feyretales @goddess-aelin @highqueenofelfhame @jorjy-jo @julemmaes @leiawritesstories @lemonade-coolattas @llyncooljones @mariamuses @moodymelanist @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rhysiedarling @rowaelinismyotp @rowaelinrambling @rowanaelinn @shyvioletcat @stardelia @superspiritfestival @sv0430 @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @the-lonelybarricade @the-regal-warrior @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @rowaelinscourt

[renxzs]

hold on, i still need you // rowaelin // 2.5k // masterlist

cw: a smidge of angst..

a/n: This was inspired by the story within this music video. For some reason teen Ren loved the shit out of it even though it was kind of sad? haha. After stumbling across the video again recently, I thought, “Rowaelin? Why not..” @highqueenofelfhame is also to thank for this first attempt at angst (hope it doesn’t suck? lolol)

Also, major shoutout to my girly @backtobl4ck for helping with the title. It was a grueling journey (hahah), but we got there!

~~

Rowan threaded the worn leather belt through the loops of his jeans, cinching the buckle into place. A pleasant warmth settled in his chest as it did every time he looked at her. Helpless to the broad, eye crinkling grin stretching his lips at the sight of his girlfriend’s sprawled form on their bed, thoroughly sated. His inner ego couldn’t help but be stroked by that fact. 

As she basked in sleepy contentment, Rowan already knew her answer but he asked anyway. “Baby, you sure you don’t want to come?” 

Aelin hummed curling into the satin pillow with a languid, blissed-out smile. “You go, enjoy time with the boys.”

The silky nightgown she’d slipped back on had shifted with her movement, edging up the soft curve of her hip to expose miles of that smooth, tanned skin he loves so much to worship. And that cloying smile on her pretty lips, all pink and kiss-swollen… 

Gods above, he’d just had her--her low moans and soft whimpers still ringing clear in his ears--and yet his body was aching for more. 

But if he missed another guys’ night, he’d never hear the fucking end of it from Lorcan. Rowan swallowed down the rising groan at the thought of leaving her in their bed looking so delectable. 

He needed to go though, if only to obtain his best kept secret that’s been in Fenrys’ possession for safekeeping the last few weeks. It was time. 

Rowan dropped a kiss to Aelin’s brow. “I love you, fireheart.” 

“Mm, love you, buzzard.” 

He chuckled, running his fingers through her glossy locks. Her eyes were already closed when he slipped from their room. 

Rowan slid his phone and wallet into his pockets and headed down the stairs of the apartment building, taking two at a time. Stepping out into the cool evening air, he immediately spotted Lorcan’s car parked along the curb. 

The barest hint of a smirk disrupted his friend’s usual scowl as he called out the lowered window. “Glad to see you didn’t punk out, Whitethorn.”

Rowan chuckled and raised a middle finger as he made his way around to the passenger side. He was in for one hell of a night.

~~

While a larger part of him longed to be home and wrapped around Aelin in their bed, Rowan would begrudgingly admit that the night out with the guys had been nice. 

Vaughn and Fenrys already had a ridiculous variety of appetizers littering the tabletop by the time he and Lorcan arrived. Just looking at the heaps of deep-fried, greasy foods gave Rowan a stomachache. Fenrys, unsurprisingly, had also sweet-talked the bartender into relinquishing him control over the music--something that should never be allowed. Lorcan sat with a pinched look for half the evening when Fen took to belting out his all-time favorites.

After a few beers and two rounds of pool, Vaughn had headed out. He’d been the first among their friends to embark on fatherhood with a newborn now at home--and he was proudly owning the Dad title already. Their little family admittedly had Rowan often envisioning what his own future could look like as of late. It had hit him like a brick to the face, that intense sense of yearning the first time he saw Aelin cooing over the infant cradled in her arms. He wanted that and more with her.

Cracking pool balls and an obnoxious whoop! from Fenrys dragged Rowan’s attention back to the game. They’d agreed to a final round before calling it a night. Rowan chalked the tip of his pool stick as he sidled up to the table on his turn, scouting the best angle to shoot from before proceeding to sink two balls back to back. Lorcan snorted when Fenrys’ sounds of celebration turned to groans of dismay.

Easing back onto his barstool, Rowan took a swig of beer in a failed attempt to keep his mind from drifting. The small luxe box he’d secured from Fenrys earlier was burning a hole through the inner pocket of his jacket. The sparkling stone on the engagement ring he’d designed for Aelin looked exactly as he’d remembered when picking it up from the jeweler weeks ago. 

Knowing Aelin and her penchant for uncovering surprises, Rowan didn’t dare run the risk of bringing the ring back with him into their home. With Elide in the picture, Lorcan was also out of the question. So instead, Rowan--albeit a bit reluctantly--handed the ring over to Fenrys for safekeeping.

He and Aelin were heading out of the city for the upcoming weekend, escaping to her family’s cabin in the Staghorn Mountains. And now with the ring finally back in his possession, if everything went according to plan, Rowan would be starting the weekend with his girlfriend and ending it with his fiancée.

Gods above, he couldn’t wait to marry her.

Rowan’s phone came alive, bright and buzzing across the sticky tabletop. Emrys scrolled across the screen for an incoming call. His brows drew together. 

Emrys and his husband lived on the floor below their apartment. Aelin had made fast friends with him, and the friendship only grew substantially stronger with every baked good he’d bring upstairs to share.

Green eyes flicked to the time displayed in the top corner of the screen and his scowl deepened. Why would Emrys be calling at this hour? 

Rowan swiped his thumb across the screen to answer. “Hello?” 

“Oh, thank gods.” Emrys’ relief was palpable through the line. “There’s a fire, Rowan. But I’m so glad you are out. The whole building is up in flames–”

Static drowned everything out and the bar and everyone around him fell away to nothing.

Fire?

Building up in flames? 

Perplexed, both Fenrys and Lorcan looked over at Rowan with raised brows as the phone slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor.

“I need to go.” Rowan spoke numbly. His body didn’t feel like his own, pushing off the stool as wide eyes sought out his friends. “I- I need to go,” he repeated. “There’s a fire- Aelin. I need to get to Aelin.”

A beat of silence passed as Fenrys and Lorcan stood frozen in disbelief, then in a split second Lorcan was shoving his pool stick into Fenrys’ hands and snatching up his keys. The blonde was already nodding, saying something about covering the tab and for them to just go. 

Lorcan clapped Rowan behind the neck, turning him towards the door. “Let's go. I’ll drive.”

The next moments were a blur. Rowan had barely gathered enough wits to swipe his phone off the filthy floor before racing out of the bar, dialing Aelin’s number over and over and over. Her pretty face smiling up at him every time he hit call, only for the line to ring and ring before clicking over to voicemail.

Rowan’s leg bounced anxiously in the small space as his thumb smashed the call button again. He was going to fucking vomit. She had to be okay. He needed her to be.

Lorcan cursed as they sped down the empty streets of downtown, wheels screeching on a sharp turn. Never had the man driven so recklessly before. Lorcan’s usual calm-and-collected demeanor was fractured by the panic edging in his own voice as he demanded “What fire?” but Rowan didn’t know--didn’t have the words or mental capacity to think about anything other than how he needed to get to Aelin.

Lorcan had to of broken at least a dozen traffic laws by the time they approached Rowan’s block, but–

Holy gods. The whole fucking building was ablaze.

His frantic gaze bounced around the gathering crowd but there was no golden blonde hair in sight. Stomach sinking further with dread, his eyes inevitably fell back to the burning building.

His fireheart, trapped inside. 

Rowan tore out of the car before Lorcan could bring it to a complete stop. He made a beeline for the building, weaving through loitering bodies, only to be stopped in the front lawn by a firefighter. Rowan heard himself yelling over the noise of surrounding chaos, maybe Aelin’s name, but it wasn’t intelligible even to his own ears.

“Sir, you need to stay calm and keep back,” the man instructed firmly. His solid arms outstretched to block Rowan from getting past.

“Calm?!” How was he expected to be fucking calm with the woman he loves--his entire world--trapped inside a burning building? 

“My girlfriend is in there!” Rowan roared, jabbing a finger in the direction of the flaming structure. And, oh gods- the new realization nearly choked him as a fresh wave of terror wrapped itself around his throat and flooded his chest. “She was sleeping.”

He didn’t know which thought was worse. Aelin unwittingly lying unconscious amidst danger, or her being very much aware but alone and terrified.

Sympathy flashed across the fireman’s stern face, but he still gave Rowan another firm push back. “Sir, please. I promise you we will do everything we can to get all tenants out of the building.”

Rowan shoved away from the man and stalked back toward the road, fingers ripping through his hair. Aelin is inside.Aelin is inside.Aelin is inside. The words barreled through his mind on a torturous loop. 

He hadn’t realized the tears gathering in his eyes until his gaze cut back to the building and all he saw was a blur of vibrant oranges and yellows. He rapidly blinked the tears away, glancing around wildly, his harsh breaths sounding so loud in his ears, not entirely sure of what he was looking for.

Rowan halted mid turn, gaze snagging on one of the trucks a few feet away. He was sprinting toward it without further thought. Hands ran blindly over the cool metal until they found a handle, yanking open the compartment door to reveal additional bunker gear. His eyes landed on a repellent jacket. He snatched it up, shoving his arms through the garment while eyeing the nearby firemen before making a run for the building.

Rowan faintly registered Lorcan yelling after him in the distance, but he paid him no mind. He needed to get to Aelin.

~~

Everything burned. Her eyes, her nose, her throat, her lungs. 

Stifling heat rippled through the room. Aelin choked on a sharp inhale, sending her into a hard coughing fit that set everything inside her on fire. 

Fire.

Moments of lucidity were slowly threading together as her sleep-ladened mind cleared. Only to be met with the dark haze of smoke.

Aelin shot upright in bed, wheezing and coughing. Every inhale burned like her lungs were being flayed. She had never realized how loud fire actually was until it was roaring around her, suffocating and ripping through the little home she and Rowan had poured their hearts into.

Gods, Rowan. Thank Mala he wasn’t home. Aelin’s teeth chattered almost violently, her hands trembling against her bare thighs as she contemplated her options, but… but at least Rowan wasn’t in danger, too.

She scrambled out of bed and dropped to the floor, trying frantically to recall the fire safety tactics taught so long ago in school. Sweat beaded on her forehead, the room sweltering. Raging flames behind the closed door of their bedroom had her flinching away. What was she supposed to do? How was she going to get out?

Aelin clenched her jaw to stifle the cry crawling up from the depths of her chest. She would not panic. She would not–

The bedroom door splintered into pieces. Aelin’s head whipped in the direction of the sound to find a flash of silver hair barreling towards her.

Rowan. 

She croaked his name but the roar of burning flames around them drowned out her broken voice.

She lurched up from the floor toward him. Tears stung her eyes as her outstretched arms desperately reached for him. The sheer relief of seeing him nearly crippling as a sob lodged itself in her throat. His lips crashed against hers, murmuring her name over and over as he held her against him in a bone crushing embrace.

Rowan drew back to look her over, hands smoothing over her face and hair before his eyes darted about the room.

He shrugged the fireman’s jacket off and guided her arms into it. “We need to get out of here,” he said, almost to himself. Aelin’s shaking hands pushed through the armholes before clinging onto him again. 

Rowan abruptly wrapped her in his arms, bowing over her small frame as he turned them to shield her body from the pressurized heat bursting through the bedroom doorway. Blistering flames rippled in, spreading over the far wall. Pictures of their happiest moments curled in on themselves before charring to nothing. 

“Baby, hold onto me okay?” Rowan said in a rush, hooking an arm under her legs and lifting her bridal style in one fluid motion. Aelin’s heart thundered in her ears but she trusted him irrevocably with her life and only nodded, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Rowan was quick on his feet, hurrying toward the door of their French balcony.

The cool evening air was like a balm against her sweaty, stinging skin. Rowan stared back at the growing flames engulfing their bedroom before looking down at the drop to ground level. Her stomach plummeted with the realization--there was nowhere to go but down. 

“Ro-” Just the small utterance of his name burned in her throat. 

Those beautiful deep green eyes she loved so much bored into her and the resolve that swirled within them made her want to sob.

No. This couldn’t be it. 

Rowan rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, fireheart. To whatever end.”

Before Aelin could respond, her world was tilting and then they were free-falling amongst flakes of ash. She squeezed her eyes shut and held onto Rowan with everything she had. They would be okay. They had to be okay. They needed–

A resounding ache reverberated through her bones upon force of impact. She wheezed, gasping for breath that’d been abruptly knocked from her. The whir of sirens gradually increased as Aelin blearily blinked her eyes open, awareness creeping back in.

Rowan.

She rolled over, his warm body still under her. Tears sprang to her eyes and her chest constricted painfully as she took in the sight of him--eyes closed and looking utterly… lifeless. 

He wasn't. He couldn't be.

A mangled sound caught between a scream and sob tore its way from her bleeding, raw throat. Rowan’s name both a plea and prayer on her lips as she gripped the lapels of his jacket and shook vehemently. 

No. No no no!

Tears burned her eyes and throat, spilling over her splotchy cheeks, as she cried out his name over and over, unable to let him go--refusing to. Not when firemen swarmed them, shouting things she couldn’t comprehend. Not when a familiar gruff voice spoke her name, cutting through the static as his strong arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her from her love.

Aelin would never let him go.

--

tags: @highqueenofelfhame // @perpetuallyperplexed21

[wanderingpages]

idk if you do requests outside of jurdan but its been in my head like tattoo artist Rowan and receptionist Aelin? and dating? and like...smut? ahhh thank you bye

∞

Rowan frowns when he sees her, sitting on the step just to the side of his shop. It’s been raining on and off all weekend, only now subsiding to a foggy mist, turning the small town as gray as Rowan’s reluctant to admit he’s been feeling. Aelin is under an awning, so she isn’t quite wet, but the damp strands of her hair is enough to let him know she’s at least ran through a sudden downpour from her car to where she’s currently at. She perks when he approaches, squinting but the pretty gem like hues in her eyes are still breath taking to him. She’s grinning wide and it breaks something in him, something he hates to even acknowledge he’s built up over the past few days. Aelin stands, bouncing from her tip toes as he nears her. Even heightened by the step, he still towers over her. She doesn’t mind tilting her head up, though.

“Hi,” She says.

His lip tilts upward, “Hi,” he responds. She takes a step to the side, and he reaches behind her to open the door. He gestures her first, letting her lead the way up the steps, to his apartment. Her shorts are high waisted, and he’d always tease her about her pairing it with oversized sweaters, much like she’s wearing today, because it made no sense to him - to be only partially warm. He does not point out the goosebumps on her legs, knowing he’d only get a narrowed eye response instead.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” She murmurs, ruffling her hair a bit. “Wasn’t sure if you’d answer, with your appointment today.” As his front receptionist, Aelin is well versed in all the clients booked for months in advance, so he’s not surprised that she knows he had an eight hour session, inking a regular customer of his. She probably also knows he should feel absolutely drained right now -  barely managing to remember to buy food before returning home - but he’s not. Rowan is absolutely zinging with unchecked energy.

It probably started the day she walked into his shop to answer an ad the previous receptionist had posted. Sparked when she’d ask him to pierce her not long after. Maybe it snowballed with her opting to stay behind after hours, using the break room for her class assignments, quietly keeping him company when sessions had flown well into odd hours. It definitely ignited when she’d kissed him goodnight on a whim, running off to her car before he’d even gotten the chance to comment.

It's been kindling when he’d gotten her chocolate during his lunch break one day and then every day after. When she'd left him a note the next day. When he had invited her up for dinner, when he had dropped her off to class the morning after, picked her up some time in the afternoon. When he thought it was cute when she eyed the women who get inked by him, flustered him when he felt jealous over a guy flirting with her.

They hadn’t been shouting it from rooftops. In fact, if Rowan’s honest with himself,  he’d been the one to keeping it under the radar – he’d felt bad enough because of the age gap, but to add the fact he’s her boss as well? Yet, roles applied still didn’t mean Aelin did not have complete control over him, mind body and soul. It took him a while to accept it, but he was all hers.

He just finds himself wondering if she was all his, too.

She reaches up to the ledge above the door, finding the spare key he’d shown her some time ago, and easily opens the door, jiggling the knob just right and giving it a quick kick after turning the key twice. She holds it wide open for him, toeing off her soaked kicks as he enters. He sets the food on the counter, before working on his boots and tugging off his hoodie.

“Were you waiting long?” She leans against the shut door, watching him undress like she hasn’t seen it more than a few times before, still it reddens her cheeks, despite the utter conservativeness of it all. She bites on her lip like she’s waiting for a show and he can’t help the small chuckle he lets out.

She shakes her head, coming back to the moment. “No." She shrugs as if its any consolation for her wait, "I missed you,” she smiles at him, almost shyly. It had been some time since they’d last been able to speak to each other properly. Despite her spending most nights with him, she had requested a few days off of work for finals, and he was at that point of the year where all him and his artists were booked until the end of summer. Still, he’d manage to find a few hours, and eager as he was to finally just be with her, Aelin had turned him down. He’d been too late, apparently, she’d already made plans. He frowns, trying not to think about it, hating the way it makes him feel, if he’s to be honest with himself.

“Missed you too,” he lets her know, heading to the cupboards to grab some plates. He divides the food, half for him and half for her, while she takes a seat at the table, tucking her cold toes beneath her. They talk idly, comfortably, touching when they can – hands, shoulders, knees. They seem to only gravitate closer to each other, stealing from the other’s plate, talking lower to have their heads meet in the middle, leaning closer to steal quick kisses – it’s all very domestic, so then why is Rowan feeling so goddamn feral?

They’ve managed to move to the couch, he’s leaned back watching a game he can’t quite say who’s winning or what sport it even is and Aelin is turned to face him, kneeling beside him, feet tucked like they had been before and she’s touching the ink on the side of his face tracing the patterns to the scruff of his hair. “When are you going to ink me,” she teases.

“When you know what you want.”

She rolls her eyes. “Your roots are growing,” she comments, tugging lightly at the overgrown locks where dark meets silver. He smiles but it's wary. His hand rests on her hips and he squeezes lightly, and without thinking, he leans his head on her, pleased to find that thump of her heart beating roughly against his ears. Aelin lets out a sigh, raking her fingers into his moonlight locks and finally asks, “Is something wrong?”

“Hmm?” he debates on bottling it up, because maybe this is a generational thing and dating means something different to him than it means to her.

“You seem… out of touch with me,” and her voice splinters at the end, going so soft, it almost gets drowned out by the insistent pumping of her heart in his ears.

He holds her tighter, and finally admits, “I… I walked by the bar after work that day.” Maybe she hadn’t meant to purposely leave out exactly whom she was planning to meet up with, but the guilt ridden look on her face tells him that she’d thought nothing good would come from Rowan knowing this information. “Did you think I wouldn’t know about your date?” he tries to smile but it feels all wrong – he had tried to be teasing, but he’s hurt – angry even. “Or did you think I wouldn’t have trusted you?”

“We were just talking,” she tells him, “It wasn’t anything serious.” Rowan holds his tongue, figuring maybe if he’d been more public with their relationship instead of sneaking in kisses during the day when no one’s watching, treating dates as secrets, and avoiding answering questions by their peers, maybe he wouldn’t feel as shitty as he does now. “I should have told you – but I didn’t think it meant anything – it still doesn’t mean anything.”

He tilts his head to look up at her, holds her steady and reaches with his free hand to touch the ends of her hair, twisting sunlight around his finger almost absently. “This is new – everything with you is new,” he confesses. He doesn’t want to be that guy – the one who’s insecure about his girl hanging with other guys, doesn’t want to second guess when she says she’s made plans. He traces down her arm, grabbing the tips of her fingers and leading them to his lips, kissing them lightly. “I trust you,” he lets her know, “So please,” he begs, watching the flush in cheeks, the tug of her bottom lip between her teeth, “Don’t make a fool out of me, Aelin.”

“I promise,” she says, not even a beat later and just the same, he’s tugging her on top of his lap. The television casts an array of colors like an aura behind her – godly, he thinks. She bends forward, her hair curtaining them, encasing them with a familiar scent. “Maybe I should have let you known,” Aelin says quietly, “That when I'm with you, I'm with you. No one else.” Rowan’s hand glides just under her sweater, fingers splaying where he knows birthmarks hide. His other hand weaves gently into her hair, pushing strands back, behind her ear, palm pressing to her cheek, holding her face steady when he shortens the distance and kisses her so softly. Her toes curl, knees on either side of him squeezing his thighs. He brings her closer to him, so close the fabric of their clothes begin to imprint and indent against their skin. “I’m sorry,” Aelin murmurs against his lips.

She’s rough when she’s kissing him again, desperate, like she needs to show him she means it and this is the only way she can think of. And when Rowan bites at her lips, he knows she doesn’t mind because her hands are at the nape of his neck, pulling him deeper against her, then she guides his lips down her neck when she can’t seem to get air in her lungs. His teeth scrapes against her flesh, her nails against his. He breaks only to get her sweater off, digits immediately at her navel, fingerprints covering the golden charm he had so carefully pierced into her skin. He mouths at her breasts, pulling her bra down enough to latch on to a nipple. She calls out his name in surprise, hips grinding hard against his. His tongue flicks roughly against the nipple before it flattens over her, soothing the ache while Aelin rubs her hips against his, frantic for more friction.

He should slow down, he thinks, biting at the swell of her breasts, blooming pink and reddening marks wherever he can. He’s never been this rough with her before, never thought of his markings as punishment - but she’s guiding his hand to her the buttons of her shorts, fumbling to get them undone, “Rowan… - I, ahh,” she doesn’t mind. More, she wants to say, but she doesn’t have to, his fingers are right where she wants them, working fast and expertise, having her panting and quivering and he’s not even in her yet, just rubbing her between her folds, soft then faster, and when he presses down on her clit, she’s screaming into his shoulder, trying to muffle her cries when she comes.

She’s still breathing rough when he has her on her back, her bra behind the couch, her shorts and underwear right at his feet. His shirt came off, but his jeans are just barely undone, settling below his hips, because he’s feeling so fucking frantic. “Wait – ah,” she throws an arm over her eyes, trying to settle the stars swimming in her vision, “need to breathe,” she tells him, though she lets him spread her legs wide and position himself right between her. Her stomach tenses on the contact alone. Her chest heaves up and down, she’s coming down but not quite there yet. Her body jolts and she twitches involuntarily, knees shaking when the tip of his cock slides right between her folds.

He likes her like this – he likes her in a lot of different ways, but especially this. Her hand flies to his bicep and he has a full view of how her face contorts, how her eyes screw shut so tight that her nose scrunches up. “Look at me, princess,” he murmurs, “let me see those pretty eyes,” she opens her eyes, a wave of colors akin to the sun meeting the ocean, and her lips part as he slides his cock up and down, pressing the tip to her clit. His breath is hot in her ears, “You can catch your breath later,” is all the warning he gives her when he pushes into her.

She cries out, fingernails digging into his arms, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Ah!” she’s not yet fully back from her first orgasm, but it already feels like an onslaught of much more hitting her in succession, too quickly, too soon. One of Rowan's hand is holding a thigh in place, at angle just right, hitting her fucking womb with every thrust. His other hand is placed against her stomach, and she feels like she’s going to explode – at a loss for words, at a loss for all her senses, Aelin really only knows his name. “Ro – ah… ah! Ro...wan…” She manages to move her hands to his face, pulling him closer, heads touching when she gets lost in his eyes. Tears prick, and her breath catches. Her chest feels so tight but she just wants him to consume her. “Ah…” she manages just hoarse little noises, overwhelmed he’s fully inside of her, and he begins to just rotate his hips enough that his pelvis rubs against her swollen clit.  “Want… it…” she gets out, gibberish in her slurs, “Want you…”

Rowan moves out of her slowly, “You’re so good,” he murmurs, thumb moving to press her clit. She weeps, drawing blood when her nails scrape down the back of his neck. He feels himself sliding in and out of her, the palm of his hand practically caving into her abdomen. He’s fucking her so deep and so hard, he feels like he’s absolutely losing himself in her. “You look… so beautiful,” Rowan whispers, maybe for the first time with the way her eyes flash in surprise. “Look how well you take me,” he murmurs, in place of the awful possessive shit he really wants to say. "So good..." He’ll hold his tongue from saying, “this is mine – you’re all mine.” He makes sure to embed it into her skin instead, makes sure Aelin still feels him when this all over, makes sure he leaves his marks on her like lewd little tattoos.

[rowaelinsdaughter]

OUR DOLL

a/n;; this is the dirtiest thing i've ever written, and you can see that i got a liiiiiitle carried by this... but come on!!! they are rowan and aelin. 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ im on my knees for them.

WARNINGS;; smut without plot, degradation(?), orgasm denial, mommy and daddy dynamics, overstimulation, m!oral, aelin uses a strap on reader (this was so 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️)

rowan whitethorn was tired. his day had been filled with meetings. meeting after meeting. he was tired of diplomacy, of talking and everything. the only thing he wanted was to be in bed with his mates.

he made his way to their room when he heard a noise. a slap. stopping on the door, he sharpens his hearing, trying to figure out what it was. another sound. this time a moan. your moan. you were moaning. 

he opened the door, carefully not to disturb. your moans were louder now that he was inside.

“you like it, doll?” aelin said. her voice full of lust. 

fuck. rowan thought. he made his way to the open door of the bedroom, and the sight before him… fuck fuck fuck.

aelin was seated on the bed, her back on the headboard as she watched you bounce on her dick. a strap. aelin was using a strap on you, and you were bouncing like you would do on his dick. your eyes were close. moans leaving your mouth as aelin’s hands roamed over your body. a slap on your butt and the other hand was massaging your tit. 

rowan touched his dick. he wanted to release it from his pants. 

his eyes found aelin’s. a smirk on her face as she stops you, a whimper leaving your lips. 

“you like the sight, rowan?” your eyes follow aelin’s and you found rowan on the door. his dick begging to be free from his pants, and his eyes full of lust. 

you feel aelin on your side, her lips brushing your ear. “why don’t you turn around and beg to rowan?” 

a little nod and with her help, you turn around, your back pressed on aelin’s chest. you look at rowan through you lashes and notice that his shirt was gone, as well as his pants and underwear. the sight before you makes your walls clench around her dick, buried deep inside you. rowan grabs your neck so you are looking at him. lust and fervent desire. you look at his dick, precum was dripping from it. his hand moves to your neck and squeezes it, you look at his eyes again.

“you like my dick, doll? you want to suck it?” 

aelin bites your shoulder. “answer doll”

“yes”

“yes, what?” rowan demands.

“yes daddy” you answer, a wicked smile on their faces.

with her fae speed, aelin maneuvers you, and now you are on your hands and knees. her hands grabs your hips and she leaves a little from your cunt, making you whimper at the loss. rowan catches your hair creating a ponytail and before he can tell you what to do, your mouth is open and your tongue is out. an invitation. 

a breathy curse leaves his lips and with a push oh his hips, his dick is inside your mouth. at the same time aelin shoves her dick against your throbbing cunt. your body shrives at the sensation and a cry falls from your lips. they both start with the same rhythm, your body is on fire and you think you can die just from having them. 

“gods… look at you doll. such a dirty girl, just for us” aelin says with a harsh thrust to your cunt. if she wasn’t grabbing you, you would have fallen to the bed. 

“that’s it aelin, she’s our dirty girl, just our- fuck”  rowan hand gripped your hair as he cum on your mouth and aelin stops her hips. “that’s it, take it all doll, just like that. good girl”

aelin takes your hands, and with a pull you’re on your knees again, unable to move your hands thanks to her. rowan’s mouth is inches from your’s, his hands massaging your tits and pinching your nipples. 

“what do you want, doll?”

“i wanna cum, please”

rowan bites your shoulder and his lips travel to your ear. “where are your manners, doll?”

you shallow. “i wanna cum, please, mommy, daddy let me cum please, i’ve been a good girl, please” a tear falls from your eye and you feel aelin lick it. “good girl… we should let him cum rowan?”

“mmm, i think she has been a good girl for us” aelin thrusts into your pussy as rowan’s hand rubs your clit. 

the pounding is incessant, and you know the whole castle can hear you moaning, but they don’t care, let them know they are the only ones who can make you cry from pleasure.

“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-” a cry and you’re coming on aelin’s dick as they both bite your neck on each side. your body feels dizzy, your breaths are difficult as you feel like you're in heaven. aelin removes the strap from you, a little groan falling from your lips. she goes to the bathroom to prepare everything.

“let’s go bath, doll”

“i don’t-” a pair of arms raise you from bed, and you hear aelin closing the water. once you all are bathed, they take you to bed, each of them on your sides. a kiss on your shoulder and lips is the last thing you remember. 

“we love you, doll”

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

tagging;; @shadowdaddies @thehighladywrites @hellwantfuckme

[shadowdaddies]

Hello there, could i request Rowaelin x reader who is a germophobe and always fussing about keeping things clean and organized. And when Rowen comes back from mission's covered in dirt and blood reader is always there to make sure he gets cleaned properly ( despite the fact that hes a grown male).

Hope you have a good day/night

thank you, I hope you have a great day as well!💜

Come Clean

poly!Rowaelin x Reader

Warnings: very suggestive towards the end

The front door creaked open, your shriek piercing the air at the sight of the large fae male standing in the threshold. He paused, foot hanging above the floor as green eyes darted to where you were seated.

“Rowan Whitethorn, don’t you dare enter this house with those muddy boots on!” You scolded, quickly striding across the room to kneel in front of where he stood. He released an exasperated sigh, leaning against the frame as he allowed you to untie his boots and toss them outside. 

A gasp sounded from behind you, Aelin clicking her tongue as she shook her head at Rowan. A smirk played on her lips as she teased, “Rowan, how could you possibly think to enter this house with shoes on?”

You whipped your head around to see her clutching her chest in mock horror, the smugness fading slightly as you shot her a glare. 

“Excuse me for trying to keep the blood and dirt out of this home,” you muttered, shaking your head as you walked towards the sink. Grabbing a washcloth, you looked back towards Rowan, eyes studying his dirtied form. 

“Do you have any injuries?” you asked, voice laced with concern as you wetted the washcloth in the basin. Rowan’s eyes softened, shining like glittering emeralds as he smiled at you in admiration. 

“No, I’m alright. None if this blood is mine,” he reassured you. Your nose scrunched slightly at the thought of strangers’ blood being tracked across your clean floors, but you managed to push that concern aside to focus on Rowan. 

You lightly cupped his cheek, bringing the washcloth to gently clean the dirt from his face. His arms wrapped around you, warm hands secure on your hips as he pulled you closer.

“Rowan! Ugh, now I need a bath, too,” you grumbled, frowning at the dirt he’d spread on your dress.

Aelin laughed from where she stood. “I’ll go draw a bath for you, Row,” she called, turning as she set off for the bathroom.

Rowan smirked down at you, hunger in his gaze as he lowered his head, lips brushing your own. “Good. We can take that bath together,” he murmured, lips moving to nip at your ear.

Gasping at his touch, you lightly pushed Rowan away, shaking your head at his antics. “I am NOT getting in that tub with you all filthy like this. We’re getting these clothes off of you, and you can take a long bath. Alone.”

Rowan hummed, interlocking his fingers through yours as he led you towards the bathroom with him. “Well, I have no problem with you taking my clothes off,” he retorted with a wink.

Aelin rolled her eyes at him from where she stood by the tub. “You can take off your own clothes, Buzzard.” Her gaze flicked to where you stood in the doorframe, tongue flicking out over her lips as she looked at your soiled dress. 

“I’ll be sure to help our girl change into some clean clothes of her own. After I take those off of her, of course.” Aelin flashed Rowan a devilish grin, her arm wrapping possessively around your waist as she guided you from the bathroom. 

Grabbing the door handle, you gave Rowan a wink as Aelin began untying the laces of your dress. “You’d better hurry up and get clean, Row, if you don’t want to be left out,” you purred, letting your dress drop to the floor as you shut the door in his face.

[goddess-aelin]

Stuck In Love

For day 3 of Rowaelin Month- idiots in love @rowaelinscourt

Masterlist

Word count:

Warnings: language

Another day, another sticky note. It had become the commonality of each day, the thing she could absolutely, without a doubt, count on. She would wake up each morning, have a small breakfast bar, feed and let her dog out for a potty break, and be on her way to work 10 minutes later than she should have been. And each day as she stepped outside her door, a new neon colored sticky note would be stuck on her front door.

Today’s read, “Clean up your dog’s shit or you’ll find it in your mailbox.” Aelin breathed in a sharp breath of the crisp, autumn air. There was nothing like the sweet scent of neighborly annoyance on the breeze. Because, oh yes, she absolutely knew who this note was from: 13B, her neighbor to the east. Aelin’s apartment was 13A so naturally, she not only shared a wall but also a small portion of yard, a driveway, and a porch with 13B on the small half-house she rented. And 13B was a true, verified, pain in her ass.

Rowan was the man’s name. She couldn’t deny he was beautiful. She had thought so from the first moment she laid eyes on him. And then he opened his big, fat mouth, berating her poor, precious dog. It was war from then on.

Looking back down at the note, she scoffed. She always cleaned up Fleetfoot’s shit. Always. Her neighbor could suck it up if the one time she accidentally missed a single log of poop was when it was torrentially raining and, in her opinion, freezing fucking cold outside. She, of course, did her best to clean everything up, but she was human.

While annoyed, there was still a small part of Aelin that was internally smug with the fact that her neighbor deigned to take time out of his very busy day to write a note to her. Gods, she was as bad as a school girl with a crush.

Taking out the pen she kept in her purse that was absolutely under no circumstances for this purpose specifically, she began writing her dear neighbor back. Her handwriting would have been elegant and understated, a penmanship that would certainly put 13B into a tizzy. That was, if she had written anything. Instead, a vulgar gesture just happened to draw itself onto the neon pink sticky notes she whipped out of her bag. She had nothing to do with it. In fact, she was not responsible for her reaction to anything her neighbor said or did. He deserved every bit of ire she threw his way.

She decided the drawing conveyed just the right amount of irritation and judgment, crossed the porch, stuck it in her usual spot- her neighbor’s forest green door, and went on her merry way. She knew that when she got home there would be another new sticky waiting for her. She couldn’t wait.

Only when she got home later that day, there was no sticky on her door. Her day hadn’t been bad, per se, but she was definitely looking for the small, insignificant fight the sticky note war gave her. It was her one constant, something she knew she would come home to. Hmm, he must just be running late coming home from work. That was all.

Sighing, she went through her nightly routine- unlocking her door, dealing with her overly energetic dog, taking her out for her afternoon stroll, and laying on her couch until her take-out order got delivered. Today’s order was a heaping bag of tacos and she was so ready for the yummy greasiness.

A doorbell rang, signaling that her order was there. She waited until the delivery person left and opened her door to pick up the bag of goodies. Before closing the door, she made sure to check for any sticky-notes she might have missed but to her chagrin, there was nothing there.

This was very unusual for Rowan. Typically he had a note waiting for her by 4:30pm at the latest. Aelin checked her watch for the time. 6:55pm. Should she check on him? No, no. She was sure he was fine. Maybe her drawing of the middle finger got her point across a little too well. Maybe Rowan took that as a sign that she hated him. Good.

Nevermind that a pit was slowly forming in her stomach at the thought. She went to open her bag of food but hesitated. Mala screw her guilty conscience.

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Aelin trudged over to her door, ripping it open and stomping the 10 feet it took to get to 13B. She didn’t care about her neighbor. She didn’t. But for some reason, she also couldn’t live with herself if Rowan thought the worst of her.

She knocked three times on his forest green door, thinking how the color suited Rowan and his moods. He reminded her of the pine forests back home, cool yet comforting. After waiting a minute, she knocked again, slightly harder this time.

Within a few seconds, she heard footsteps and a muffled “yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” ring out from inside.

With a whoosh of air, her silver-haired neighbor opened the door, scowling slightly. Aelin’s defenses were up, ready for a verbal sparring based on the way he opened the door. Yet when she really took a moment to take Rowan in, she noticed other little tells. His nose was red, as if he was constantly blowing it, he had dark shadows under his eyes, and his hair was a mussed mess. She also didn’t let herself think about the fact that he was shirtless. That was completely irrelevant.

Because these things set a warning bell off in her head, what came out of her mouth instead was, “Gods, are you okay?” Smooth, Aelin. Real smooth.

Rowan sniffled. Or at least tried to. He flinched as soon as the air reached his nostrils, pinching his nose and rubbing his sinuses. “I’m fine.”

Aelin raised her eyebrows in return. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. Do you need something?”

“I came over to check on you since there was no passive aggressive note on my door, actually.” She shrugged. “Thought it was weird that you didn’t have a response to my note.”

Rowan squinted slightly, looking at the front of his door. To Aelin’s horror, she missed the bright pink sticky note that was pasted there from earlier. Gods, she was an idiot. He hadn’t even seen the note and here she was making a mess for herself.

“I must have missed this when I came home earlier.” Rowan snatched the note, looking at it quickly and setting it down on a side table behind the door that she couldn’t see. This was very unusual for him. There was no bite behind his words, no fight to be found.

“Rowan, are you sure you’re ok? You don’t look so good.” To her alarm, Rowan actually stumbled forward a step.

“Fuck.” He muttered it so softly she wasn’t sure she heard it at first. “I’m fine.”

When he stumbled again, Aelin caught his forearm, helping him to stand upright. Slowly, as not to scare him, she brought her wrist up to his forehead, feeling the burn of his skin. “Shit, Rowan! You’re hot!”

“Thanks, but now really isn’t the time.”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring the quip. “No, I mean you’re burning up. Have you taken any medicine to help with your fever?” A shake of his head seemed to be all he could manage. “Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll bring you some soup and medicine?”

She let go of his forearm and gently pushed him back inside the house. Quickly shutting his door, she rushed back to her house, rustling through her cabinets until she found a can of chicken noodle soup. Aelin was no chef but she could heat up this little bit of soup without ruining it for him. Hopefully.

A tub of soup and some advil in tow, Aelin quickly made her way back over to Rowan’s house. By her luck, the front door was still unlocked and she pushed her way into his house. She had never been inside before but wasn’t overly surprised by what she found. Rowan had a tidy space, furniture that looked comfy yet practical, a few pieces of art that matched the room well, and no overabundance of knick-knacks or personal pictures. She was surprised, however, when she came into the living room and found floor to ceiling shelves around three of the four walls. This room was her dream.

She found Rowan laying on the grey couch, a blanket thrown haphazardly over him. He looked so peaceful in the moment that she needed to take a second to just look at him. He looked younger in his sleepy state, more peaceful, and sweet. She found she was endeared by this new picture of Rowan that she had never seen before.

Shaking his shoulder slightly, Aelin roused him from the half-sleep he was in. Groggily, he rose and took the warm soup from her, not knowing what to do with her kindness.

“Let me just get you some water too, hang on.” She blindly opened cabinets to find his glasses and brought him the filled water, a few advil, and a spoon to eat his soup with. He took the medicine without any fuss and hesitated at the soup, staring a hole into it with skepticism.

“This isn’t poisoned is it?”

Aelin scoffed. “Of course not!”

Rowan shrugged and dug in. “How would I know considering you drew me a middle finger to start my day.”

“That was only after you said that you’d shove dog shit into my mailbox. And besides-” Aelin cut herself off at Rowan’s sleepy smirk. “You asshole.” Rowan just chuckled as he slurped another spoonful of soup.

While he ate, Aelin decided to browse his incredible shelving. “Where did you get all these books?”

“I love to read so most of them are mine but some also came from my parents when they died.” Aelin said nothing but gave him a look that she hoped expressed what she felt- that she knew and understood his pain, however long ago it may have been. “I needed more shelving so I built the living room into a veritable library.”

“Do you loan books out? Do I need to sign up for a library ID card?”

“You can borrow whichever books you’d like, Aelin.” The softness in his tone took her aback. She’d never heard him speak so…genuinely and kind. Though, she shouldn’t have been surprised since she also hadn’t spoken to him much at all apart from their daily sticky-note battles.

She ran her fingers over the spines of the books until she met the end of the shelf nearest the door. What she hadn’t noticed on her way in was the small end table beside the door where Rowan had presumably laid her note. Except it wasn’t just one pink sticky note that made it’s home on that table, it was many. Most likely all of the ones she had ever written to him.

She could feel his stare on her as she made her way to the table. “You saved them?” Her voice sounded so small, even to herself.

Rowan let out a huff of breath. “I did.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “first to fuel my rage at having such a disorderly neighbor.” Despite his words, she could tell he was joking. “And then because those sticky notes started to become one of my favorite parts of the day.”

Aelin didn’t respond. Couldn’t. It was as if she took those sticky notes and shoved each one down her throat. So instead, she left the table, coming back to Rowan’s bed on the couch and his half empty tub of soup.

Finally, she asked the one question that had managed to bubble its way up her throat. “I thought you hated me?”

“Hate you?” He said the words with so much more conviction than he seemed to have the energy for. “No, I never hated you, Aelin.” He looked at her as if this was the silliest thing anyone had ever said to him.

Aelin was again at a loss for words. Things were feeling too…intimate for Rowan’s current state. He was sick and here she was, feeling things for her neighbor. She stood from her place on the edge of the couch, taking the bowl from him and setting it on the floor. Reaching out, she felt his head once more, which was feeling slightly cooler than the flames it held earlier. Gently, she brushed his short hair out of his face and dropped her hand. “Get some sleep Rowan.” Her voice was just above a whisper as her words lingered and she walked toward the door.

- - - - -

The next morning, Aelin went through her normal routine with the exception of her expectation for a sticky-note being posted on her door. She knew Rowan was likely still out of commission and made a mental note to check on him later that day. She ate her breakfast, took Fleetfoot out for a potty break, and left 10 minutes after she should have for her job.

When she stepped out onto the porch, she almost tripped over something laying in front of her door. It was the bowl she put the soup for Rowan in last night. And attached to it was a bright green sticky note.

Thank you.

Dinner friday?

-R

Aelin couldn’t help the smile that made its way across her face. Yes, she thought. Dinner sounds fantastic.

A/N: the sticky note prompt was sitting in my drafts from LAST years rowaelin month… do with that what you will

Tagging:

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[delulu-is-the-soluluh]

Scars of Flames and Shadows | Chap 2

Chap 1 | Chap 3

A Dark!Rowaelin x afab!Reader

(Temporary) Summary:  Aelin and Y/N shared a deep bond since childhood, growing up together in the royal courts of Terrasen as their innocent crushes hinted at a future romance. However, the invasion of Adarlan shattered their world. Aelin was forced to become Celaena, while Y/N stayed behind, joining the rebellion and becoming their most lethal spy, never ceasing to look for the princess. That is until she accidentally meets with a famous assassin who’s eyes she knows for so long.

Warnings: Lots of pining. Drama (I’m a drama queen); Set one month before the events of AB.

Chapter 2 | The Assassin and The Spy

Celaena pov:

I can’t believe Arobynn had the audacity to send me to this decrepit part of Rifthold. And yes, it was business and the client offered a decent sum, but I can’t ignore this scum of the place. It truly reflected just how much the client despised the target: an abusive father, slain at his daughter's request. He often came around here to buy drugs and alcohol before returning home to “demonstrate” his fragile masculinity to his family.

Typically, I would have a little bit of fun with this type of job: I get to have one less abuser in the world and explore new ‘methods’. I was inspired tonight. Had a plan and everything. But he had to die within thirty minutes.  I had hoped to spend at least half the night relieving some tension. Instead, I was left fuming in a rat hole, my clothes way too fine for this, feeling grotesquely out of place, breathing a repugnant smell of air, and so frustrated.

That’s why I stood in the doorway of a filthy bar, scanning the dim interior, sulking about this crap of evening. I needed to find a way to blow off steam. A brawl in a dingy bar seemed like the perfect escape—losing myself in a little chaos might help to drown out the boredom gnawing at me.

Thankfully an opportunity soon presented itself. One of the drunken patrons made a lewd comment accusing me, rightfully so, of cheating in a card game. A few snarky remarks later, and they were on it. Fists flew, chairs splintered, and bodies collided in a whirlwind of aggression. For a moment, I was lost in the cathartic release. But it still wasn't enough. Their punches were too amateur and the chaos didn’t bring me any relief.

As the brawl raged on, I stumbled toward the door, the sense of agitation pressed more intensely against my ribs. I was about to slip out when I collided with someone. I was ready to throw them on the floor but they kept balance. So I looked up, ready to lash out again, only for shock hit me like a tidal wave. 

It couldn’t be. She wasn’t supposed to be alive—Arobynn had said...

But there she was. Y/N was before me, alive and well, her eyes wide and surprised as I could hear my heart in my ears: She recognized me 

Without a second thought, I turned and bolted. I couldn’t let her see me like this, couldn’t risk my identity or her safety. Despair clawed at my chest as I ran. Y/N was alive. She survived, she.. Why was she here? What was she doing in Adarlan?

The sound of footsteps behind me broke through my thoughts and I dared to look behind. Fuck she was fast, faster than I remembered. My breath quickened, and I pushed myself harder, darting through alleys and leaping over obstacles. I scaled walls with ease, my movements fluid and precise. But Y/N kept up, relentlessly stubborn still.

I darted across the rooftops hoping to lose Y/N in the maze of buildings, until the sound of her steps began to fade. “Finally,” I thought, dropping down into a secluded alley. I leaned against the wall, ripping off my mask to catch my breath. How did this happen? How had she found me, and if so where was Aedion?

It was just a glimpse. A breathtaking glimpse and I didn't even know I could still feel that, let alone be.. I need to put myself together. ‘I’m Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan’s best assassin, heir and prote-’

A soft thud echoed in front of me interrupting my thoughts and I looked up, alarmed. The moon casted a pale light over the narrow passage as Y/N stepped forward, her eyes widening in recognition and disbelief. A smile began to bloom on her lips as she parted them to speak. “My gods… It is you…”

Gods she was beautiful. Her voice, matured and raspy, struck me with a wave of conflicting emotions way too strong for my liking. My heart leapt, but I forced myself to stay as composed as I can be, my gaze cold and unyielding as Y/N walked toward me.

“Ael-” She didn’t get a chance to finish as I ran toward her, lunging to bring her down. I need to escape before any more questions or emotions could complicate matters.

I wasn't expecting when she fought back, quick on her reflexes and certain astonishment upon her face. She still ducked and twisted, blocking my initial strike with a defensive posture. “Please, stop,” Y/N gasped, her voice edged with desperation as she tried to fend off my assault.

I was fierce, aiming to bring her down rather than maim. I landed a few solid blows, but Y/N’s instincts kept her from falling.Pride started to bloom in my chest, to know she’s skilled and trained. It was thrilling and.. a bit exciting. Each time I tried to pin her down, She dodged or countered with quick, fluid movements. 

As I moved in to grapple Y/N, I attempted to pin her against the wall. Y/N twisted free, striking back with a powerful kick to my midsection, forcing me to stagger back. Her eyes were full of anguish and determination as she panted, “Why are you doing this? Aelin...”

“Who the hell is Aelin?” I said through gritted teeth, trying to maintain control and balance of the fight.

Her face crumbled, eyes flooding with pain before anger quickly took its place. I could barely react before she came at me and pinned me down to the floor. Damn, she was strong. Finally, a worthy opponent. I grinned, ready to free myself when Y/N's eyes revealed nothing but anguish.“You don’t fool me... Please, all I ask for is one moment...” Her voice was low and filled with despair. “I can’t let you go again...” 

Her plea struck me like a physical blow. The world around me seemed to blur as my resolve wavered under her gaze. She seemed to sense the shift in my demeanor. With a fluid motion, she released her hold and gently helped me to my feet. Despite the urgency of our confrontation, her touch was careful, almost tender—as if she were handling something precious, even in the midst of our struggle.

The walls I had built around myself slowly began to crumble, leaving me exposed to a torrent of memories and feelings I had long buried. The tension was replaced by a fragile silence that spoke volumes. I couldn't let this happen—I had to maintain my control.

“I’ve been looking for you... non-stop,” Y/N’s voice was breathy and raw. “I’ve been looking for clues, for leads, and—”

The sharp sound of my dagger being retrieved from my sheath cut through the air. “Stop deluding yourself. You’re not the hero here, you’re just a nuisance I’ve been trying to avoid. So save your tears and get out of my way.”

It was uncalled for. Hypocritical even, when the embellished hilt of my blade concealed our necklaces. So insincere when “Celaena” is named because of it. Rage flashed into her eyes and never left mine as she strode to me, grabbing my wrist, pulling me in and aiming my dagger at her fifth rib. 

“Kill me then.” A heartbeat passed “ it only proves how deeply you're haunted by it” 

my eyes astonished by her recklessness as a bitter smirk appeared on her face. “What part of ‘I can’t let you go’ don’t you understand?” Her voice filled with agony and determination. Her proximity allowed her gaze to drift to my lips. I couldn’t help but do the same to her. “Just one moment... I’m begging you.”

I sighed as I met Y/N’s determined gaze. “Alright,” I whispered. “One moment.”

The full moonlight was nothing compared to the smile she gave me.

I reached the small, rundown inn a couple of streets away from that alley for its privacy and minimal patronage, making it safer for our conversation. Entering the dimly lit room, I was greeted by the musty smell of old wood and worn fabric. I closed the door behind us and turned to face Y/N. Before I could say anything, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. “I knew it you were alive,” she murmured against my shoulder, her voice breaking with emotion.

I stood frozen for a moment, the warmth of her embrace seeping through the cold barriers I had built around my heart. Slowly, I raised my arms and returned the hug, my body trembling with the flood of suppressed emotions. “I missed you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

We pulled back slightly, Y/N’s hands resting gently on my shoulders. Our eyes locked in a tender gaze. “Can you tell me what happened then? What’s been going on?” she murmured softly, concern evident in her voice. I hesitated before shaking my head slightly, guiding her to sit on the worn bed. “I want to hear from you first,” I said quietly. “Tell me what’s been happening with you.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, her eyes searching mine for strength as she began to recount her story. She shared everything—from the night we survived to Aedion and the Rebellion, her training, and her arguments with Darrow, which made me laugh a little; some things never changed. I felt a deep sense of relief at hearing that Aedion was alive and well. It was a comfort to know that amidst all the chaos, someone I cared about was safe and thriving

I did the same right after. I recounted my story in detail—how I survived that night and became Celaena and everything that happened during these years. As I spoke, Y/N’s face clouded with sorrow and regret, her eyes reflecting the weight of my suffering. Her heartache was visible and deepened with each revelation about my life in the Guild and the isolation I endured. Her hand gripped mine tightly, as if trying to hold onto me amidst the flood of emotions. A vivid reminder of our shared past and the emotional cost of our separation.

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. “I can’t believe you’re Celaena Sardothien,” she breathed, a trembling laugh escaping her. “Earlier tonight, I joked about how someone must be incredibly lucky to find you. Turns out, I was right.”

I nodded, a bitter smile touching my lips as Y/N took in the gravity of my words. “All this time… you were right here, so close yet so distant.”

“I did what I had to do to survive, even if it meant hiding in plain sight.”  I replied, my voice heavy with regret. Y/N reached out, her fingers brushing against mine. "We’ve both paid our prices. But we’re here now and we have a chance to fight back, to reclaim what was lost." I pulled my hand away, the flicker of hope dimming. "I can’t..." Y/N shook her head lightly, looking at me with confusion. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I can’t go with you, Y/N. I’m stuck with the Guild. Arobynn keeps track of every ‘investment’ he makes in me,” I said softly, looking at my hands.

“I can pay. I’ll pay your debt and we’ll go—” Y/N said with determination, but I cut her off with a sigh. “It’s an insane amount of money...” I answered, a bitter taste in my mouth, realizing how much I had spent on whims and quirks.

Y/N went still for a moment, analyzing my features as she said quietly, "Have you ever thought of coming back? Of reclaiming your throne?" I was silent, my expression unreadable. Y/N’s frustration grew as her eyes turned cold. "You never even considered it, did you?"

"I thought no one survived," I tried to explain, my voice strained, still not looking at her. "That's what I was told. That everyone was dead." Y/N grabbed my hand, searching for my eyes, voice fierce.

"But now we know that’s not true. I’m here, Aedion is alive and so are Ren, Darrow - Hell even Maurtaugh is alive! And there’s the rebellion, an army that we’re building for you…” She shook her head, as if trying to understand a puzzle “Does that change anything?"

I looked away, the silence heavy between us. The weight of my choices and fears hung in the air, leaving me speechless. Y/N’s gaze softened but remained resolute “You’re scared that Arobynn will come and report us, right? It’s not because you’ve given up.. isn't it?”

I stood quiet and after what felt like hours, I looked at Y/N, guilt, sadness, and shame evident in my eyes. “Aelin Galathynius is dead.” I whispered. I almost could feel Y/N’s heart wrenched at my words, but she didn’t back down. Her grip tightened on my hand, a mixture of pain and determination in her eyes.

“If she is truly dead, then we'll let her go. But you and I... we’re still here. We can still fight, still reclaim what was lost. Crowned or not” Y/N’s voice wavered but held a steely resolve. “I can’t do this alone, we can’t do this alone. And if you won’t come back for yourself, then come back for the people who still believe in you, in her.”

My eyes flickered with conflicting emotions, my mind racing with the weight of my choices. I swallowed hard as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my ornate dagger. “There’s something I need to give you,” I said softly, handing it to Y/N. “Our necklaces... they’re inside the hilt. I kept them all these years.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she traced the intricate design of the dagger, her fingers trembling. When she carefully opened the hilt, revealing the hidden necklaces, tears welled up in her eyes. She looked back at me with a mix of relief and sorrow. “I thought I had lost mine,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

A bittersweet smile touched my lips. “It got stuck in my dress that night and fell onto the bed... I couldn’t let go of it. Not completely. Not of you.”

The weight of the moment hung heavily between us, the past and present colliding in a whirlwind of emotions. Y/N stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “If Aelin is gone, then let me say goodbye to her properly.”

The intensity of her gaze held me captive. I felt my heart race as she closed the distance between us. Our breaths mingled, charged with a longing that had been suppressed for far too long. I whispered Y/N’s name as her fingers brushed against my cheek, her touch gentle yet electrifying. “We’ve both been carrying this weight for too long,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Let's just be who we really are, even if just for tonight.” The room seemed to shrink around us, the air heavy with unspoken promises. As she leaned in, I felt the pull of her warmth and the magnetism of her presence. 

Our lips met in a slow, tender kiss—my first ever. Why had I denied myself this connection for so long?—The softness of her lips against mine was both startling and comforting, as if all the years of hidden longing and unspoken passion had found their voice in this single, perfect moment. Her hands gently traveled through my hair, caressing the back of my neck and resting on my waist, as if trying to memorize this moment. I responded in kind, my fingers brushing her cheek, slipping into her hair, and exploring the contours of her back. The kiss deepened, a dance of passion and vulnerability, filled with the weight of what could have been and the hope of what might still be. 

Our kiss lingered, a bittersweet testament to what we had lost and what might still be. When we finally parted, breathless and trembling, I looked into her eyes, seeing the raw emotion that mirrored my own. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with undeniable sincerity, her fingers caressing my cheeks. “I’ll be waiting for you, no matter how long it takes. So please... think about what I’ve offered.”

My resolve wavered for just a moment as I took a step back, the storm of emotions threatening to consume me. "I can't go with you," I said, my voice barely a whisper but cutting through the silence like a knife. "There's too much at stake. And If I stay any longer, the Guild will notice. They'll come after you and then after the rebellion.." Each word felt like a dagger to my heart, but I forced myself to continue as I shook my head. "I can’t."

The pain in her eyes was almost unbearable, and I felt my heart shatter in response. "So that's it, then?" Her voice cracked, filled with a bitterness that stung more than any blade. "You're staying here while I... I just leave?"

My eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. This is the only way I can keep you safe." She nodded, her expression a mix of disbelief and sorrow. "Okay," she managed to say, though the word sounded hollow, devoid of hope. "I understand."

The finality of it hung between us, a suffocating weight. I watched her as she took a deep breath, looked at the dagger in her hands and stood up; Walking towards the door, each step she took felt like a piece of my soul was being torn away. 

The silence behind her was deafening, and with each step, the distance between us grew wider. As the door closed, I fought the urge to call out to her, to change my mind, to run after her and leave everything behind. But I knew I couldn't. I sank onto the hollow bed, the ache of her absence a fierce, unrelenting force. Each breath felt like a struggle as I felt my eyes tear up. What a painful reminder of lost possibilities. 

I took my time to build my walls again, to put on the mask of savagery and cruelty that for so long has been mine. When I finally stood up, the numbness that enveloped me was profound, my steps heavy as I left the inn behind, stepping into a world that felt colder than ever. 

Author’s note: I tried to keep close to the character but I think I’ve failed :/

It was tricky, since Celaena has a push and pull behavior with “new” people and only opens up after a 'life or death' situation (as we see with Sam and some scenes with Ansel in AB) while Aelin it is in fact more in touch with her feelings (but still a keeper of them) and tends to show her vulnerable side at first to her family (like after rescuing Aedion in QoS and her first encounter with Elide in EoS). My idea was to demonstrate the Celaena/Aelin egos clashing but I think it didn't work.

But please have faith in me and I promise you that the good stuff is about to come. Just give me like two more chapters (maybe one) and you’ll hear a jealous hawk screeching and too many people living under the same roof :D

Thank you for all the reblogs and likes, it means the world to me <3

Tag List (omg my first taglist aknsjd)

@acourtofbatboydreams @throneofsapphics

[house-of-galathynius]

Overdrive

Chapter Four

Chapter Three - Chapter Five 

Word Count: 3.1k

~

Aelin

The luxury of being born into a wealthy family meant that Aelin never really had to think about getting a job or worrying about money. The disadvantage to this was that she spent a lot of her time twiddling her thumbs and trying to figure out what she actually wanted from life.

With Lysandra caring for her new baby and Aedion starting pre-season prep, it meant Aelin was at a loose end. She’d finished her masters degree and hadn’t rushed into finding a position because God knows she didn’t know what she really wanted to do. But she found herself procrastinating, not really finding anything productive to do with her days. There were only so many brunches she could go to with her mum or pilates classes she could stomach. The people who ran in her parents social circle weren’t exactly exciting, and most of them didn’t see the point in Aelin being ambitious— why would she, when her father had enough money to support her indefinitely.

Her father was at the breakfast table reading the news, the TV was on low in the background and her mother was pottering about the kitchen when she entered. Sure, Aelin could have been back in Melbourne in her own apartment or at one of their family houses basking up the sun. But instead she was at her parents’ home in the countryside enjoying her time with them.

“What’s up, kid?” Her dad said cheerfully.

Aelin slumped down into a chair and poured herself some coffee from the pot. “I’m bored.”

Evalin laughed and her dad chuckled to himself. “The garage needs sorting out. Or you can finally fix up the old car in there. It’s been sitting waiting for you for three years.”

Aelin groaned. “I want to do something meaningful, dad. Not hide myself away and play with an old car that will never get driven anyway.”

He put down his tablet and met her eyes. “I told you that Murtaugh offered you a spot as an engineer. You told me there wasn’t any chance in hell you’d go back.”

Which had been true. After her introduction back into the F1 world a month ago, her father had taken it as a sign that she might be willing to jump back into racing again. Rhoe had been full of nothing but glee when he’d informed her that Red Bull needed another engineer for the season. But after one evening surrounded by the drivers— surrounded by Rowan— it had all but confirmed her aversion to that industry and the people within it.

“It might be a really good opportunity for you. You’d barely interact with the drivers and it’d mean you could be with Aedion and support him for the season.” Her mother said with a slight hopefulness to her voice. “Plus, it would get you out of the house and doing something you love.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

Her parents laughed, but shared a look as if to say that they were trying to get rid of her. “We’ll support you in whatever you do, Aelin. But it’s been four months since you graduated and I think that it would be a really great opportunity for you.”

It was true. What better experience was there than becoming an engineer for a Formula One team? Since she had been ten years old, it had been her goal to become one. Her dream had started because she had been desperate to make sure her dad’s car was the safest it could possibly be. Then it had morphed into genuine enjoyment and before everything had gone to shit, she had been on course to join Red Bull as an apprentice. Then the shit-show had happened. And all she wanted to do was leave behind any sort of memory of Rowan—  including anything to do with F1. But she had a stubborn realisation that she wasn’t going to let him take everything from her. So she’d stayed and endured the years of study.

She turned back to her parents, “I don’t even like being around those people. Going to the awards with Aedion was enough to remind me that I don’t care for that world.” Although her heart was saying that it would be fun, that maybe she could ignore him.

“Ace, that was one evening. You know what those events are like… you’d be too busy during the day to think about where you were and too tired in the evening to bother with socialising. And the reporters will stay away from you because they can’t go near the cars anyway.”

Her mother nodded in agreement. “Don’t let one person ruin this for you. You have been working so hard to achieve this. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”

As always, her mother was right. Aelin hated that fact… but she also hated being in this in between state with nothing to do. And it was probably true; she’d barely see the drivers and she’d be too tired after the day of work to bother socialising with any of them. But she would be lying if she didn’t say that her stomach dipped at the thought of spending nine months travelling the world in close quarters to Rowan.

“I’ll leave it up to you. But don’t say no just because you’re scared.”

~

Rowan

Pre-season testing always hyped him up. The winter break was always too long and he craved to be back in the car.

This winter break had felt too long.

When he had finally received the email of his schedule and he realised there were only two weeks left before he would be back in the car, he could barely contain his excitement. In fact, he’d gone out with Fenrys that evening and had celebrated the return of the season with one last booze-fest and then rewarded himself with the prettiest girl in the bar.

His head didn’t thank him the next day, but it had been enough fun that he didn’t care. Of course, once he’d politely encouraged the woman to leave his house he’d finally felt fully relaxed and could enjoy a long run on his treadmill and an easy breakfast on the patio.

The house he lived in might have felt empty, but there were still certain parts of it that he loved. Although, he was eagerly anticipating the day he would get to leave and not have to look at the place for almost a year.

Rowan’s phone vibrated on the table and when he saw Aedion’s name on the screen he felt an ounce of dread seep into him. Whilst he had a lot of respect for Aedion on and off the track, the two of them rarely communicated unless it was to do with something race related.

“Hey man.” Rowan answered casually.

There was faint crying of a baby in the background and then Aedion’s voice cutting through it. “Hey. Sorry to call you so early. I just thought you should be aware of something.”

Rowan sat up straighter. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. I mean, I’m great. But um,” there was a beat of silence, “Aelin is coming to join the team. Murtaugh offered her a position as an engineer for this season.”

Rowan was quiet. “I thought she turned it down?”

“She was going to. But she changed her mind.” There was sigh through the phone and then Aedion began talking again. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you and honestly at this point I’m too afraid to ask. But I wanted you to know so that you weren’t surprised when she’s there.”

“Right.” He replied slowly. He didn’t know what Aedion wanted him to say. Did he want Rowan to kick off and complain? Or was he waiting for Rowan to admit something about their relationship— or lack thereof. He wasn’t entirely sure, and in all honesty his emotions about this bit of news were all over the place. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Sure,” Aedion said hesitantly, “you’re not going to make this an issue, are you?”

Rowan scoffed. “No offence, Aedion. But I don’t care about your cousin coming to work for the team. All I am focused on is winning another championship.” The word cousin seemed to be the only way Rowan could pretend that she was just another insignificant person.

“Got it. I’ll see you in a few weeks then.”

The phone went dead and Rowan didn’t move from his position. He’d assumed his run-in with Aelin at the awards ceremony was a one-off. She hadn’t been in the F1 world for five years and he had assumed after their disastrous meeting last time, she would just avoid coming back into it again.

Rowan realised he was gripping the table so tight that his knuckles were turning white. He immediately let go and paced across the floor. He tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t be that bad. She may not be working on his car… and even if she was, he’d only have to see her in passing and he could ignore her.

He’d just finished a run but his body was tense again. He would need to find a better coping mechanism than this for when he was around her more.

~

Aelin

Murtaugh had been more than thrilled at Aelin wanting to join the team. And though she had her reservations about being back, there was a simmering excitement within her at getting to work on such an exciting project.

Her father and Aedion had been just as excited as her and the two of them had been swapping stories with her all evening. Although her father had retired to bed when the clock had hit one in the morning— leaving Aelin and Aedion to finish off the bottle of whisky between themselves and enjoy the last weekend before shit hit the fan.

“I told Rowan you’re coming back.” Aedion said in between sips.

Aelin rolled her head to the side and glared at him. “Why would you do that?”

Aedion shrugged. “I didn’t want there to be any surprises. After your last encounters with each other, I thought it be best that he was aware you’d be around.”

“Shouldn’t you be spending your time looking after your newborn? Rather than worrying about how Rowan might react to seeing me?”

Aedion snorted. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say his name since whatever happened.”

“I’ve said his name plenty of times.” She replied defensively.

“Ace, I’m being serious. If at any point you think that you two are going to clash and make working together difficult, you have to say. Rowan is on a mission for another championship and you have a massive responsibility in making sure our cars are the best they can be. You can’t be distracted.”

“Jesus, Aedion. I know.” She finished her drink and turned to him, “if I thought I couldn’t handle it, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

Aedion went silent. She knew that she was being unfair on him. After all, he was just trying to look out for her. But she didn’t need him or anyone else telling her how to work or to be careful. She was a grown up. And she had been letting what happened with Rowan stop her from being in the world she used to love for too long.

“Whatever happened between us is over. I think seeing him again made me realise I’ve been holding onto anger against him for too long and I need to get over it.”

Aedion laughed. “The fact you’ve been holding a grudge for so long suggests that you won’t get over it that quickly.”

Aelin playfully hit him and poured herself another drink. “We’ll see. At this point I’m just going to stay away from him because I don’t think I have anything nice to say anyway.”

“So mature of you.”

It was the first time in a while that she had been able to talk about Rowan without wanting to scream at the top of her lungs or hide away in a corner from embarrassment. Whilst she had spent five years trying to forget about him and avoid talking about him, in her subconscious there was always a part of her that remembered the day they stopped being friends. She didn’t think that any amount of time would erase the memory of it. Her therapist had told her multiple times that talking it out with Rowan would ease the pain, but Aelin had been unwilling to listen and had shut down any further conversations about him. But maybe her therapist had been right…

She finished her drink and then stood. “I’m going to head to bed. I’ve got some prep to do before I start work next week and would rather not be hanging for the next two days.”

She left Aedion sitting there and as she made her way into bed and lay there thinking; she hoped that what they had talked about what be true. She wanted nothing more than for this job to work out. And she hoped that both her and Rowan would be mature enough to work together civilly.

~

Rowan

The only thing he didn’t enjoy about his job was the meetings. Gods they dragged on so long, and there were always so many of them. Especially at the beginning of the season when there were so many new people and new things to learn. But Rowan absolutely loathed the day long talks and the constant stream of people trying to speak to him— or on some occasions— flirt with him.

There were of course the people he was happy to see. And he spent as much time with them as possible before he was pulled away by Murtaugh to say hello to others.

“Rowan, we want you to come meet your engineers.” One of the coordinators told him, interrupting a dull conversation with a stakeholder.

He happily followed the petite red-haired into the large conference room and nodded in acknowledgement to a couple of long-term employees— whose names he should have known. Then he was being seated at the head of the table and within seconds there were people pouring into the room as well. Some of them smiled at him, others gave him a look of pity— he reminded himself to steer clear of them when they were in the garage. The ones who didn’t look at him at all were few, and they tended to be the newest members who were still a little awe-struck at being around him and Aedion.

Rowan was politely listening to what the coordinator had to say when his attention shifted to the door. His stomach did a flip at seeing her standing there— chuckling to something Murtaugh had just said. It seemed the entirety of the room had shifted their attention to her now, too. Not only did she have this immediate draw to her, but she was the spitting image of her father— save for those Ashryver eyes.

“What is she doing here?” Rowan asked the red-haired girl who was still loitering beside him. Her own gaze fixed on Aelin.

“I thought you were aware that Aelin is joining the team as an engineer.”

“I did. But what is she doing here.” He said again, gesturing to the room.

The red-head swallowed. “She’ll be working on your car for the season.”

Rowan swore under his breath. What the fuck was Murtaugh thinking? He’d made his feelings about her joining the team very clear after he’d found out. He had said to his team principle that he would be as civil as he could and if they ever interacted it would be friendly. But she was not to be anywhere near his side of the garage, if Murtaugh could help it. Rowan couldn’t be doing with any sort of distractions this season. Not if he wanted the championship again.

Just as Rowan was about to go to Murtaugh, the old man made his way to him.

“Get over it, Whitethorn.” And that was all he had to say.

The meeting was short and sweet and Rowan was ready to get the hell out when Murtaugh had finished his speech. He hadn’t spotted Aelin leave, but she had clearly had the same feelings as him and had left as quickly as she could. And for that he was more than grateful.

Rowan was halfway down the corridor, finding the bathrooms— his mind on Aelin, not paying attention to what he was doing— as he went straight into someone as they exited the same door he was entering.

“Oof.” The woman’s voice said.

Rowan steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. It took a moment to see who exactly he had touched and then he was ripping his hands from her like the contact was burning him.

“Watch where you’re going.” Aelin said bitterly. “Or can you do what you like because you’re Rowan Whitethorn?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like a fucking child, Aelin.”

“Rich coming from you.” She snarled.

“I’d be careful how you speak to me. I could have you fired faster than you could blink.”

Aelin laughed hollowly. “I think you forget who my father is.”

Rowan cocked his head, “you can’t stand there and tell me I do what I want, when you throw your father’s name around just as much to get what you want.”

Aelin was silent. And Rowan gave a satisfied smile. If Aelin wanted to act like this, then he could play the game too. She was still holding open the bathroom door and he was blocking her exit.

“Don’t you think we should try and be nice to each other? As we will be working closely together for the foreseeable future.” He said eventually.

Aelin narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need to be nice to you to be able to do my job efficiently. Just stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.” With that, she brushed past him, leaving him seething in the hall.

He knew that he had fucked their relationship. He knew that the words he had used all those years ago had hit her where it hurt… and he regretted the way he had ended their friendship. But the hatred she seemed to have for him was a burning rage that had been stewing for five years and was now finding its way out. When he’d seen her at the awards ceremony he had briefly wanted to reconcile— or at least tell her he was sorry. But every time they spoke she was angry and she threw accusations his way and he had no choice but to defend himself. He was frustrated and wanted nothing more than for the problems between them to disappear.

But right now the only thing that plagued his mind was getting into that car and winning another championship.

~

Taglist: 

@morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @fredweasleyhasadhd @luckyrunawaycheesecake @live-the-fangirl-life  @fireheart-violet  @charlizeed @scarblx @xo-fangirl-xo  @wordsafterhours @jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival @becarefuloflove @tanvee1231 @viajandosinalas @backtobl4ck @emily-gsh @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @becarefuloflove @goddess-aelin @thegreyj @leiawritesstories @nerdperson524 @rowanaelinn @tothestarsandwhateverend @athena127 @jisco @gracie-rosee @elentiyawhitethorn​

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixty-seven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: WHOOPS, I disappeared for two years. (Legit the last chapter was posted in May 2022!). But I’m back and have written… a lot of the rest of this fic, so we’re just going to post weekly (or even twice weekly!) until we’re finished. And I hope you’re still out there, anyone, to enjoy it. Quick recap for a previously on IDWTW. Aelin and Rowan had sex! It was great. Then they walked in on Rhoe and her dance teacher Petrah having sex, which was NOT great. Aelin never wants to go back to dance again. We returned to school. Senior second semester is going great. Busy for Aelin, who is still trying to work her butt off re: APs and grades. Less busy for Rowan, who is already recruited to college for lacrosse. Aelin and Lys had a huge falling out, but have slowly rekindled their friendship now that Lys is sober and working on her shit. Elide and Manon came out! They’re running as homecoming queens! Dorian and Chaol haven’t DTRed and are taking a break. Last we left off, Aelin texted someone to help retrieve her lacrosse hoodie from the dance studio after hours. But who? Keep reading to find out. Also, I have been gone for so long that I have NO idea who is still in the fandom or reading Rowaelin fic. Please reblog to spread the word! Taglist doesn't seem to possible anymore, so please share! Love you all and missed you all. Comment, message, meme, gif, whatever. Let’s go, team.

Aelin watched with wide eyes as Lys lowered into a crouch and removed a bobby pin from her hair. When she’d texted her friend to help with her mission, she hadn’t realized that Lysandra was a bona-fide expert at breaking and entering. 

“It got boring in rehab,” Lys said with a small shrug, as if that explained her masterful lock-picking.

“Good to know,” Aelin said, chewing her thumb nervous and glancing over her shoulder at Rowan, who waited patiently in the jeep — aka, their getaway car. She didn’t think they’d actually need one, but this whole thing was such a thing, she figured it was probably safest to have a getaway car. What if the cops were called about the break-in, and they had to run? 

Aelin almost chuckled at the thought of Orynth’s elderly Police Chief trying to run after them, but it hadn’t stopped her from telling Lys to dress all in black and meet them at the dance studio at eight. Luckily, Rhoe was at the station overnight, so he couldn’t see their ridiculous antics. But, after all, this mission was serious. She tried to refocus on Lys, who was finagling with a pin in the lock, taking her sweet time. A rush of panic ran through Aelin. What if they got caught? What if this got put on her permanent record? What if they got arrested?

BZZZZ. Aelin’s phone vibrated in her hand, making her jump with surprise. 

“Gods,” she muttered under her breath, causing Lys to chuckle under her breath.

“Tell your buzzard not to worry, we’re almost there,” she said, twisting the pin again in a different direction. Aelin sighed at the reassurance. She knew that Rowan had to be feeling her nerves as well. Although maybe not quite as much. She wasn’t usually concerned about being a rule follower, but every step of the way had made her feel more and more stressed out. Which might have to do more with her overbearing boyfriend watching their every move than anything else. Couldn’t he just sit there and look cute and not worry? She looked at his text and shook her head. She should have known it’d be impossible. He was the biggest worry wart of them all.

Are you sure no one’s in the studio? It looks like the lights are on upstairs. Rowan texted from the front seat, his view of the studio probably better than theirs. But Aelin had spent too many years of her life at this studio. Despite her churning stomach, she knew they were fine.

Last class ended an hour ago. They always leave the lights on for the cleaning staff, but they get Fridays off, so they’re on until Saturday morning. It was part of my class schedule to turn the lights off. We’re good.

She looked over her shoulder after sending the text, and watched as Rowan threw a thumbs up in her direction. She couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he looked in his oversized black hoodie with the hood up. Despite completely disapproving of her decision, he showed up ready for the assignment at hand. 

“Tadaaa,” Lys sang out quietly as the lock clicked open, the door popping ajar. 

“Honestly, when I asked you to help me break into the dance studio, I figured we’d be throwing a rock into a window or something,” Aelin whispered, even though there was absolutely no reason to whisper at all. Aelin had timed it purposefully, so she wouldn’t have to run into … anyone. Okay, she really didn’t want to have to talk to Petrah. She’d avoided the studio (and Petrah) for so many weeks following the revelation that she’d been involved with her dad, and she had no intention of breaking that now. So, they’d had no choice but to break into the studio under the cover of darkness.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Lys said. “The door upstairs has a lock, too, right?” 

Aelin nodded. Annoyingly, there were three doors they had to break open — the building door, the door to the second floor, and then the dance studio entrance. Thank god Aelin had her locker key, so that wasn’t a worry.

“So, why are we doing this again?” Lys asked as they trudged up the long stairwell to the second floor. She tried not to flinch as the rubber-covered stairs squeaked beneath her shoes. “Not that I’m not happy to help,” she continued. “I just thought that you started dancing again and loved it?”

“Ugh,” Aelin groaned. “I did.” Aelin paused for a beat too long, causing Lys to flip her dark curls over her shoulder to get a better look at Aelin. 

“But?”

“It’s…complicated,” Aelin sighed as Lys crouched down in front of the second floor door.

“Well, this is going to take a minute,” Lys laughed. “Tell me.” Aelin was going to refute again when Lys’s voice changed, softer. “Unless you don’t want to…”

Aelin nearly smacked herself. She’d thought this would be a ridiculous, fun (and pretty low-stakes) way to hang out with Lys again, and here she was totally ruining it by keeping things to herself again.

“No, it’s not like that,” Aelin reassured her as she continued to work on the lock. “It’s just… horrifying.”

“Well now you can’t not tell me,” Lys snickered, but Aelin recognized the slight trepidation in her friend’s green eyes. Still nervous to push things. Aelin bit the bullet and let it out in a whoosh.

“Oh my GOD.” Lys’s nose crinkled, and she fell to her knees completely as her shoulders shook with laughter as Aelin told her story. “I mean, we all knew Rhoe fucked,” Lys cackled, causing Aelin to smack her friend’s knee. 

“EW! That is my dad,” she said, fake heaving.

“He’s a hot, hot firefighter daddy, though,” Lys said, her eyebrows wiggling.

“I swear to god I will vomit straight on you.”

Aelin tried to be serious, but Lysandra’s smile pushed them both over the edge into a fit of giggles. They laughed and laughed, releasing the tension that had been hovering around them like a thick blanket all night, officially removing all traces of formality. Unable to help herself, Aelin reached out for her friend’s hand, squeezing her fingers gently and was relieved as Lys squeezed back. They weren’t healed, per se, but they were healing, and that was the most that Aelin could really ask for right now.

Taking a breath and wiping the remnant tracks of tears from her cheeks, Lys pushed herself back up to her knees. “Second lock?”

“Speaking of my family…” Aelin started nervously, but forged on, curious. “How’s Aedion doing?” 

To her credit, Lys didn’t even lose pace as she unlocked the next door with ease.

“I know you want me to reply with something equally scandalous, but there’s nothing going on between me and Aedion,” Lys replied succinctly. “We’re friends.”

“Okay,” Aelin said, not completely convinced, but chose to respect her boundaries and believe her words. 

The pair fell into an awkward silence as they headed down the hall toward the studio door. Just one last lock to get through — and then she’d never have to return to this place. A part of her heart panged at that thought, that she’d be leaving Orynth and this studio behind and not really getting to say goodbye to it. But running into Petrah was NOT an option.

“Hey, isn’t this the studio?” Lys asked of a propped open door, a gentle music wafting from inside. Aelin’s stomach sank. Had someone stayed late tonight practicing? It was a plus that they wouldn’t have to break into yet another door, but she really didn’t want to risk running into anyone. “I thought you said it was closed.”

At the same time, the pair noticed the schedule on the door, showing the company’s new rehearsal schedule. Their rehearsals now went until nine on Friday night, meaning that Aelin had shown up in the middle of a packed studio, instead of an empty one. And one where Petrah would surely be. She contemplated turning right around, but Lys had already opened the door too far, leading them into the studio lobby where the company was on break, milling around and refilling their water bottles.

And at the front desk, Petrah’s eyes widened with surprise upon seeing her. “Aelin!”

She should have guessed breaking in had been too easy. Had the doors even been locked? She knew Lysandra had gotten through them too quickly! Grumbling, she stepped out of the shadow and into the lobby toward Petrah. She couldn’t run away anymore, so she had no choice but to say hello to the woman who she’d been studiously avoiding for weeks. And by the look on Petrah’s face, she knew it, too.

“I’ll go grab your jersey,” Lys whispered, leaving her to fend for herself. “See you downstairs!”

“Traitor,” Aelin mumbled under her breath as Lysandra all but ran into the locker room, excusing herself from the awkward conversation that surely lay ahead. She wanted to run, but her feet were stuck, watching Petrah approach nervously.

“Aelin,” she said again, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you….” But Aelin cut her off.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” she said, ready to slap her hands over her ears, lest Petrah talk about her dad in any less than completely formal way.

Petrah’s deep pink lips curled up on one side in amusement, but Aelin watched as she took another deep breath and shook off whatever she’d been about to say. Instead, she watched as her smile fell into a wistful expression. “We’ve missed seeing you around here,” Petrah said.

Aelin’s eyes shot to the open doorway of the studio where the company practiced, all jetes and pirouettes and well-supported port de bras. She had missed dancing. She really had just gotten back into it when she let it fall away. Petrah must have seen her expression because she smiled faintly and let her delicate hand fall to Aelin’s shoulder.

“You could join the class. Dance it out,” Petrah suggested.

Aelin couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dancers. She watched the emotion pour from them. That is what she needed. But as Lysandra held up her jersey and trailed down the stairs in the periphery of her vision, Aelin shook her head.

“I can’t tonight.”

“I understand that it might be strange to spend time with me after what you overheard…” Petrah trailed off as blood pooled in her cheeks, filling her usual pale complexion with a deep blush. “It was completely casual. It’s only happened a handful of times, and we both know it’s not serious. I’m not trying to replace your mother, or anything like that, it’s just… an occasional stress release, and oh my god, I am sorry I didn’t mean to say any of that.” Aelin cringed at the words. She wanted to stop Petrah, but the woman couldn’t be stopped even if she wanted to. “Please don’t give up dance because of this,” Petrah pleaded. “You have such a gift, Aelin, and I would be filled with regret for the rest of my life if I knew I was the cause of you walking away from it.”

Aelin took a breath, the comforting scent of chalk and worn leather infiltrating her senses and calming her down as she figured out what to reply to Petrah. Of course she wanted to dance still. It was undeniable, the way her body pulled her toward the studio, the way a sense of calm settled through her despite her initial discomfort upon seeing Petrah. She thought about her lack of free time and her constantly building stress as the semester went on and how badly she wished she could just dance it out. That release of emotion centered her, and she knew that she was feeling off kilter without it. Making time for dance had improved her life drastically — it'd kept her sane as the rest of her semester spiraled out of control — and she wanted it back. So, so badly.

She was on the verge of agreeing to join the practice when there was a crash and loud shriek from the studio. When the shriek morphed into a choked sob, a churning nausea overwhelmed Aelin. She watched as Petrah’s face morphed into one of horror as she sprinted into the studio. Sure enough, one of the dancers was on the floor, cradling her ankle, cheeks red and involuntary tears dripping down her skin, while another dancer attempted to help her stand. The girl hissed, crying out in pain and sat down again.

“Call an ambulance,” someone ordered, and suddenly there was a frenzy, a rush of dancers looking on in terror at the injury in front of them. Aelin stood with her back against the wall, not wanting to be in the way, slinking out of sight while so much was going on. It felt like a sign from the universe that Aelin shouldn’t even think about wasting her time with dancing. Like the gods warned her that she had way too much going on to even consider it.

With Petrah distracted, Aelin slipped out, trying to gain control of her waging feelings. She slid into the backseat next to Lys, her mind reeling and unable to get the image of the crying dancer out of her head. So caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t even hear Rowan call out to her, until red and blue flashed behind them. He swung his head over her shoulder, his mouth agape in horror as he stared at his unusually quiet girlfriend.

“Ace, what did you do? Are those the cops?!”

Aelin shook her head, the horrible feeling of nausea persisting in her gut as Rowan drove away from the studio.

. . .

It had been days since Aelin had received a text from an unknown number, and she still hadn’t decided what she was going to do.

I thought you should know we’re holding an emergency dance company audition this Tuesday at 5pm. Please come, Aelin.

Aelin chewed her sandwich thoughtfully as she pulled up the text again. The audition was merely hours away, but she was still on the fence.

“You still haven’t made up your mind?” Lysandra asked, glancing at Aelin’s phone screen. Her former — maybe current — friend had started joining them at the lunch table in the last few days since their late night break in, continuing to heal and thaw what had broken between them.

“I keep telling her to pro con list,” Rowan said, letting his fingers trail across the back of her neck and kneading the tight muscles there with his strong grasp.

“Mmmm,” Aelin mumbled, leaning further into his touch. “Con. Time spent without you.”

“Pro, something to do while I’m at lacrosse practice,” he countered as his fingers massaged a particularly tender part of her neck. She angled her head so he could have better access, but he took it as an invitation to let his head drop to her bare skin and press his lips against it, causing her body to light up. As she leaned toward him with another light moan, Dorian slammed his tray down on the table with a loud thwack.

“Get a room or get outta here,” he complained, tossing a fry at the still-intertwined pair.

“Someone’s got their panties in a bunch,” Aelin laughed as she tossed the fry back at the offender.

“My panties are perfectly smooth, thank you very much,” Dorian quipped. “Some of us would just prefer not to bear witness to your foreplay.”

“Pro,” Rowan whispered into Aelin’s ear, his lips ghosting against the tickling skin there. “I really love watching you dance.”

“Pro,” Aelin whispered back. “Increased stamina, muscle strength, and flexibility.”

Aelin glanced up at Rowan, who was already staring back at her with a fiery intensity. Her eyes glanced down at his mouth, which was curled into a satisfied smirk. His throat bobbed with a slow swallow, surely thinking of all the way those fitness benefits could be put to good use. She leaned in slightly, her lips a hairs breadth away from his when another fry hit her cheek. Aelin whipped her head around, rubbing at the salty spot where the food had made contact with her face.

Dorian was the picture of innocence, eyes wide as he chewed his own fry.

“Con,” Lys interjected. “Increased horniness.”

“Literally didn’t think that was possible,” Dorian said with a snort. “So, what are we pro-conning?” he asked, popping another fry into his mouth.

“Orynth Dance Company is having an emergency audition after an injury, and Aelin was personally invited to try out,” Lysandra explained.

“But I don’t really have the time,” Aelin started. “It would require actual rehearsal time. Like, a lot of nights. Not just an hour long class. Plus, I’d have to see Petrah every day. And I have to knock this last semester’s grades out of the park if I want to even think about getting a scholarship anywhere, plus I have a million AP exams to study for coming up, and that’s not even considering keeping up with hospital volunteering and going to your games and having any kind of semblance of a social life and…” she trailed off, her stomach finally settling as she came to the conclusion she knew she was going to come to all along. “I can’t join the dance company.”

Rowan frowned and reached for her hand. “Are you sure, Ace?” His hand wrapped around hers in a comforting squeeze, and she knew he was asking seriously. “We could make it work. I could help you study, we could bring out your color-coded schedule again to make sure we could fit everything in.”

“I know,” Aelin sighed, squeezing back. “But, I’m sure.”

But as the afternoon ticked by, Aelin couldn’t ignore the swirling feeling of guilt trying to pull her under. She was so distracted by the approaching time that she completely zoned out through all of AP Lit, startling when the period ended and Dorian poked her side.

And as five PM approached closer and closer, she found herself growing more agitated and even snapping at Rowan at one point. It wasn’t his fault; he had to head off to lacrosse practice, but Aelin had found herself so worked up that she had thought maybe he’d want to help release some tension.

“I’ll come right over after practice,” Rowan promised as he twined his hands around her waist.

“But you’ll be all sweaty and gross,” Aelin replied with a frown.

“I thought you liked when I get sweaty,” he laughed, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Aelin sighed, knowing she was being petulant, but she couldn’t get out of her own head.

“Only when I’m the one doing it!”

She tried to push him away, but Rowan’s grasp on her was iron-clad, too tight for her to even think about prying him off her. “Ace,” he lowered his voice. “I would love nothing more than to skip practice and be with you, but you know this is the only thing I need to do this semester to keep my place at Wendlyn.”

“Because Wendlyn’s more important than me?”

“I think you need a snack,” Rowan laughed, but Aelin didn’t find that funny at all.

“Sorry my blood sugar problems are amusing to you,” she said, stiffening within his grasp. She felt Rowan sigh deeply and watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his brows up the way she loved so much.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You know that’s not—”

“I know,” Aelin replied quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Rowan raised a single brow as if to tell her he knew exactly what had gotten into her, and so did she.

“It’s not even four yet,” Rowan said. “You could still go.”

But Aelin was nothing if not resolute. She’d made up her mind, and it was completely logical. And she was sticking to it. No, she’d head home and, yes, get a snack, and dig into her lit homework. Maybe Dorian would be willing to give her his notes from the class, seeing as she couldn’t remember a single thing that was discussed earlier.

She forced a smile and shrugged her shoulders back. “Nope, you were right. I need a snack. I’ll head to Maeve’s and see what she’s got for me.”

Rowan grimaced. “She closed for the afternoon, actually, while they put in a new stove, but she should be reopened by the time I’m out of practice.” Aelin shivered as Rowan let his fingers trail in small circles up and down her back. “Why don’t I stop there on my way to your place after practice? Cheeseburger and brownies?”

“And then orgasms?” Aelin asked, causing a loud snort to erupt from Rowan.

“You want to have sex after cheeseburger and brownies? That feels dangerous.”

“Well, we could have sex first, but reheated cheeseburgers are pretty garbage,” Aelin replied, loving the soft smile that appeared on Rowan’s face. It was the one solely reserved for her. When she was being particularly ridiculous or annoying, it was like he couldn’t help but love her more, and the small curve of his lips let her know that.

“You’re right. Cheeseburgers first,” he paused. “Then sex, then brownies?”

“Deal,” Aelin said as she reached her hand out to shake his. But he instead grasped it in his and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles lightly.

“I love you,” he said.

And though Aelin wanted to roll her eyes, she took a moment to relish the fact that her best friend in the whole world loved her. And would do anything to make her smile. In fact, he’d succeeded in getting her too distracted to think about the auditions and…

As soon as she thought about them, her smile faded again.

“Just go,” he whispered, but Aelin shook her head.

“Have a good practice. See you in a few hours.”

She kissed him and sent him off, hoping to pour herself into her studies. But even with her book open, Aelin digested none of what she was reading. She kept looking at the clock, distracted. Even as it passed five pm, knowing that she was missing the auditions, she still couldn’t focus. And her mood started to plummet.

It plummeted even further as she received a text from Rowan saying that their coach needed him to stay behind for a bit after practice and that he’d be later than anticipated.

She tried to read more, and when that didn’t work, she attempted to do some math equations, but she couldn’t get her brain to work. She knew what she needed. And it was to dance it out. Despite everything, that was still her best coping mechanism. When a second text from Rowan came in, apologizing for being even later, Aelin had had enough. She couldn’t just sit here and wallow. Instead, she wrote a note for whoever would get home first – her dad, Lorcan, or Rowan — and began walking.

She didn’t even know where she was walking until she ended up at the dance studio. It was unlocked, but empty. She couldn’t remember if there had been an end time to the auditions, but it seemed completely deserted. No one was sitting at the front desk, and the lights were eerily dim. This is what she’d expected to walk into last week when she’d stolen back her lacrosse hoodie, and she was even more annoyed about it somehow.

Instead of focusing on that, though, she went straight for the first open studio and turned the lights on. The fluorescent bulbs overhead flickered on, illuminating the wooden floors beneath with a warm yellow glow. She toed her sneakers off and padded barefoot to the corner of the studio where the massive (and ancient) stereo system was stored. She pulled her phone out and connected it, pulling up one of the old playlists Rowan had made for her and closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. Her feet took off, working in sync with the rhythm reverberating through the bare floor. Next, her arms spread, stretching out and shaking off the stress of the last few weeks.

For the first time, she really let herself feel it. The worrying and wondering what the future would hold. She knew Rowan was destined for Wendlyn, but she had no idea what she would do if she didn’t get in, too. He’d assured her that they’d stay together and figure it out, but who really stays with their high school boyfriend? She knew they weren’t like everyone else – they were special – but it didn’t stop her from thinking about it and wondering. When it came down to it, that’s why she really couldn’t bring herself to audition today. She couldn’t risk spending less time with Rowan, not if this was the last few weeks of their relationship.

Whoa. Where did that thought come from?

She ignored the small tear that pooled in the corner of her eye, letting it drip down her cheek as she spun in time with the music. How could she doubt her and Rowan’s relationship after all this time? She knew in her soul that they were destined to be together. She couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t wake up and see him every day. But there had been a small slice of fear since they first kissed, and it had ebbed and flowed with each passing day until it was now a gaping chasm in the pit of her stomach. The idea that she could end up elsewhere without Rowan was a real, actual problem. And the timeframe was closing in on them. What if this was the end of them? How would she ever recover?

Her hands reached overhead and then she let her body collapse to the floor in a graceful fall, letting go over the overwhelming sensations of fear that had been swirling and threatening to paralyze her. She arched her back and her neck released, the tension that Rowan had tried to knead attempting to relax and letting gravity pull her down, down, down.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Rowan. She did. More than anything. She just didn’t trust this world. She didn’t trust that everything would work out the way it was supposed to. I mean, just look at her dad. He’d thought he’d found the love of his life, and she walked away like it was nothing. Walked away from Aelin.

She didn’t want to cling to Rowan, to be the girl who changed her whole life just to be with a guy. She wasn’t that person. No. She was Aelin fucking Galathynius, and she could live life fully on her own. But she wanted to be with Rowan. Wanted the whole package. Saw their life together. And wanted more than anything for it to become a reality. But what if that future disappeared? What if it was cut short? What if they drifted apart. What if they tried to do long distance? Last summer while he was at camp was only two months and it was pure torture. It caused a rift so big between them that she wasn’t sure they’d overcome it. And yes, of course they did. But… to do it again? And for four years?

Her emotions threatened to choke her as she continued to dance out her frustrations, stomping and spinning and leaping, hoping against all hopes that the answers to her anxieties would appear if she could only dance long enough. She left every feeling, every worry, every gnawing anxiety on the dance floor, letting it tumble out through her moving limbs.

She didn’t know how long she’d been dancing when she opened her eyes again and refocused at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize the girl she saw there. She may not have come up with any answers, but she felt better. Raw, red eyed, red cheeked, and breathing hard, Aelin felt totally exposed. Which is why she nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice cut through the silence, over her harsh exhale.

“Practice starts next week.”

The director of the company stood in the darkened doorway of the studio, arms crossed and lips pursed in thoughtful approval.

“Oh, I wasn’t—”

“I know you weren’t,” she said with a formal smile. “But we’d still love to have you. If you want.”

It wasn’t necessarily the answer she had hoped to reach, but something about this moment felt like the universe trying to reassure her. That things do work out the way they’re supposed to.

“Yeah?” she asked, feeling somewhat hopeful.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said.

A wide smile crossed the director’s face. “Welcome to the Orynth Dance Company,” she congratulated her.

Aelin didn’t know what had overcome her, but she couldn’t help but run over to her and throw her sweaty arms around her neck in a giant hug.

“Thank you.”

Right on cue, Aelin’s phone buzzed with another incoming text.

Cheeseburgers en route. See you soon. Xx

. . .

As anticipated, the cheeseburgers were exactly what Aelin needed to rejuvenate herself, but Rowan was totally right that there was no way to be sexy after housing a half pound of meat and cheese.

“I’m so stuffed,” she said, patting her extremely full stomach.

Rowan snorted. “Why don’t we take a post-dinner break and watch something?”

“Only if it’s Housewives!” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen where he was cooking dinner for him and Rhoe, who were properly affronted that Rowan hadn’t brought them cheeseburgers, as well.

Aelin sighed and chuckled softly as she let herself slump over onto Rowan, who was already pulling up Housewives onto the television.

“You are such an enabler,” Aelin laughed.

“It’s easier than dealing with him being pouty,” Rowan smartly replied.

Aelin was about to agree when they were interrupted by an unusual ring tone.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan said, sitting up suddenly. “Is that your… home phone?”

Aelin genuinely couldn’t remember the last time that had rung. Usually she and her dad were both contacted on their cells. They really just had a home line because it was part of their internet package. She couldn’t even remember who had that number.

“Uh, phone’s for you Aelin?” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen.

Even weirder?

“Who the hell would be calling this late on a Tuesday?” Aelin whispered. Rowan’s brow lifted.

“Why don’t you go see?”

Curious, Aelin pried herself off the couch and headed to the kitchen where Lorcan was standing with a spatula in one hand and the phone in the other.

“Who is it?” she whispered.

Lorcan shrugged, simply shoving the phone forward. Helpful.

Aelin cradled the phone against her ear and took a deep breath. “Hello?”

“Hello!” A deep voice rang out over the phone. “Is this Miss Aelin Galathynius?”

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“Excellent!” the voice boomed, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear slightly. “My name is Xavier Forul, and I’m a local alum of Wendlyn University. I’d love to have you in for an interview some time in the near future. Whenever you’re available! I know you’re a busy senior with a lot on her plate.”

Aelin’s heart took off, beating faster as his words unfolded.

“Interview?”

“Yes,” he continued. “It’s my favorite part of the process. As a former Wendlyn man myself, I get to sit down and speak with young promising applicants to see what their goals and ambitions might be and how they might become part of the Wendlyn world.”

Aelin glanced at the silver-headed mop peeking out above the couch and exhaled slowly. This was it. The universe reassuring her. She felt it with every fiber of her being. She could dance, she could nail her classes this semester, and she’d get into Wendlyn and be with Rowan.

“Wow, thank you so much for reaching out,” Aelin began, her autopilot pilot voice taking over. “I’d love to meet with you.”

As Xavier explained the details of the interview, Aelin’s hope buoyed. She’d been waiting for a sign from the universe, something to tell her that she and Rowan were going to work out and be fine. If a personalized phone call on a landline that hadn’t rung in more months than she could count, inviting her into the home of a University alum wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was. And Aelin began to hope for the first time that everything was going to actually work out.

~*~