#rowaelin month day five

[leiawritesstories]

Impossible

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 13: Finding Out They're Pregnant @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: medical talk, hospitals, mentions of infertility, vague depictions of medical tests

A/N: this is a little bit self-indulgent but also therapeutic--i had surgery for endometriosis this past summer, and part of recovering from that was how tf do i process all the implications of this diagnosis??? well...writing helps. anyway. Aelin has endo in this fic, but things go very different for her than they did for me lol.

Enjoy :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was still dark outside when Aelin’s alarm went off, the cheery tune she’d chosen breaking through her restless scraps of dreaming. With a mild groan, she rolled over and tapped the screen of her phone multiple times before she managed to turn off the alarm, eliciting a sleepy chuckle from her husband behind her. She poked him in the shoulder and stuffed her pillow over her head. 

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled. “Got another alarm.” 

Rowan tugged the pillow off of her head and fluffed it up. “Mmmkay, go back to sleep, love.” He tugged her back against his side, and she closed her eyes. 

And her alarm went off five minutes later. She grumbled at it, but she carefully extricated herself from Rowan’s embrace, turned off her alarm, and pushed herself out of bed. Leaving a kiss on his forehead, she tucked the blankets up and went quietly into the bathroom. A clean set of clothes already sat on the shelf beside the shower, and she smiled softly at her husband’s quiet thoughtfulness. She went through the motions of the shower rhythmically, her body working on muscle memory due to the too-early hour, making sure to scrub extra well with the antibacterial soap. Finished, she dried off and put on the clean, comfortable clothes Rowan had set out—sweatpants and a loose shirt. 

He was awake and half-dressed when she emerged from the bathroom, and his glasses sat crooked on his nose. She chuckled softly and straightened the wire frames, and he caught her wrists and tugged her gently into his lap. “Hey.” Fingers threaded through her loose, damp hair. “Want braids?” 

“Yeah.” She passed him her brush and two hair ties, and he carefully wove the blonde waves into twin braids down past her shoulder blades. “Someday, our future daughter is going to only want you to do her hair for school.” 

“Biggest win ever.” His voice, like hers, held a touch of muted yearning, weighed down by the hopelessness of two years trying to conceive without success. Aelin had been diagnosed with stage 3 endometriosis in her last year of college, while they were engaged, and she had put off surgery until her doctor finally said that the excision procedure was the best thing she could do for her chance of having a family. 

“I’m nervous,” she admitted. “I know Dr. T said this is the best thing for us right now, but I…I almost don’t want to hope.” 

“Fireheart,” Rowan breathed, standing so he could wrap his wife in his embrace. “It’s going to be okay, my love. I have more than enough hope for both of us.” 

“I love you,” she whispered. 

She held his hand the whole way to the hospital. 

When they arrived, the receptionist waved them towards the procedure center waiting area, and they sat down and waited in the early-morning quiet. Only a few others were there, including an older couple, a middle-aged woman, a half-asleep man, and a woman about Aelin’s age sitting with her mother. 

“Galathynius?” Aelin stood up and went to the desk, and she gave the receptionist her information. It only took a few minutes, and soon she was back in her seat with a green hospital bracelet around her right wrist and a clipboard with some papers on it. She handed Rowan the slip of paper with her patient information and went to work on the few forms. It was only a short while before a nurse with a softly lined face walked into the waiting area and called for Aelin, and she squeezed Rowan’s hand as she stood up. 

“I’ll see you soon,” she promised, and she followed the nurse through the double doors into the pre-procedure area. They walked down a quiet, gray-tiled hallway, the faint scent of disinfectant lingering in the sterile air. 

The nurse—her nametag read Philippa—stopped by a restroom door. “First question, Aelin.” She held out a clear plastic cup. “Did you remember to come with a full bladder?” 

“I did.” Aelin smiled. “Almost like I’ve had practice with this kind of thing.” 

Philippa chuckled. “Okay then, I don’t need to give you instructions. Go ahead, and when you’re done, I’ll be at the desk over there.” She gestured. “Take your time.” 

Aelin went into the bathroom and closed the door. Pregnancy screening was required as part of the pre-procedure preparations, and it was almost too familiar, almost too easy, to take care of the urine sample and close up the plastic cup. So many tests flickered before her eyes, so many single lines, so many negative results. The only thing that gave her any hope was that Dr. Yrene was firmly convinced that this surgery would improve her chances of conceiving, since the endometriosis lesions would no longer be there to interfere with things. She handed Philippa the cup and followed her down to a small, clean room, where a hospital gown, cap, and socks sat on the bed beside a plastic sack and a sleeve of chlorhexidine wipes. 

“You know what to do, I’m sure, but I still have to give you the rundown.” Philippa let Aelin take a seat in the chair across from the bed and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her right arm. “Wash with the wipes and change into the gown, blah blah blah, and your nurse will come in to get you all hooked up and ready to go.” She checked the blood pressure reading and jotted it down. “Oh, and if there’s anything else we need you to do, your nurse will let you know. Looks like you’ll have Sorscha, and she’s wonderful.” 

“Thank you,” Aelin murmured, giving the older woman a grateful smile as she left the room and closed the door. She had just finished getting herself into the gown and bright yellow socks when there was a rapping on the door and a woman of about her own age with soft caramel skin and a warm smile cracked open the door and poked her head into the room. 

“Aelin, right?” 

“That’s me.” Aelin sat down against the pillows. “Right on time.” 

“I’m Sorscha.” The nurse came into the room. “I’m sorry to disturb you before you might be ready, but your pregnancy screening came back positive.” 

The world around Aelin went silent. 

She shook her head slowly, bringing herself back into the present. “I…what?” Her breath hitched, shock creeping up her throat, and she clasped her hands together in front of her stomach. “It has to be a false positive; there’s not a chance I’m actually…” Pregnant. The word she couldn’t let herself say. 

Sorscha looked down at her clipboard, flipped a few papers. “Would you like to take a digital test by yourself? It could be a false positive, and we do need to be absolutely sure of the result because you’re scheduled to go under general anesthesia.” 

Aelin nodded. “Yes, please. I do want to take another test.” 

“Got it.” Sorscha walked her back to the bathroom and grabbed a digital test from the nurse’s station. She handed the box to Aelin and let her go into the bathroom alone. “Bring it on out when you’re done, okay? There is a possibility that we might have to do an ultrasound if you think you’ve had a false positive, but that’s easy to do.” She squeezed Aelin’s trembling hand. “You’re going to be okay, Aelin.” 

“Okay.” More hesitantly than before, Aelin went into the bathroom, locked the door, sat down, and took the pregnancy test out of the box. She went through the motions robotically, tucked the test back into the cap, and turned it over while she waited. Questions spun around her head at the speed of light, but she pushed them away, weighing them down with the strength of her doubt. She knew her ovulation window, and she’d had her period regularly. It just…it wasn’t possible. 

The timer pinged, and Aelin picked up the test, turned it over, and read the single line of text displayed on the tiny gray screen. And her whole body trembled, shaken by the force of hope that crashed into her as she read that second test. 

Pregnant. 3+. 

Shakily, she walked out and wordlessly handed the test to Sorscha, who took one look at it and helped Aelin sit down in the nearest chair. “You’re going to be okay,” she said again, reassuring Aelin as the tears finally broke free and spilled down her face. 

“I—” A great shuddering sob wrenched Aelin’s shoulders, and she just let her body loose to the tide of overpowering shock and disbelief and wonder and worry. “I think I’m dreaming,” she choked out, her words broken with tears. “It’s been two years; I didn’t think it was possible.” She wiped her eyes. “God, I’m sorry, here you are just trying to do your job and I’ve turned into a hot mess express in front of everyone.” She sniffled. 

Sorscha gave her a hug, and Aelin leaned into the comforting gesture. “How about we go back to your pre-op room and talk about next steps?” 

“Okay.” Aelin followed Sorscha back to the room, and she sat down on the bed while the nurse pulled up her charts on the computer. “So…what now?” 

“Well, the main thing is that you won’t be able to have the surgery that you were scheduled for, but that’s a very good thing because you’re pregnant.” Sorscha clicked through a few things. “I’ve paged your doctor, and she should be in soon to discuss what she wants you to do, but my suspicion is that she’ll order an immediate ultrasound to check on things and maybe have you do some blood tests. It’s convenient that you’re in the hospital, because you don’t have to go anywhere.” 

Aelin laughed softly, flicking stray tears away from her face. “Okay.” 

Right on cue, there was another knock on the door, and Dr. Yrene Towers came in, her copper curls tied back into a bun. “Well hello, Aelin! Seems like today might not go exactly as we planned.” 

“That’s one way to say it,” Aelin agreed. 

The doctor looked over at the charts that Sorscha had pulled up. “Okay, Aelin, I’d like for you to go up to the imaging clinic and get an ultrasound done.” She stepped over to the computer and rapidly typed up an order that she sent to the imaging center. “Since a surgeon ordered it, they’ll be able to do it right away, and this will either confirm your pregnancy for certain or prove that you had false positives. In the first case, we’ll turn to prenatal care, and in the second, we can go ahead with surgery. How does that sound?” 

“Sounds great.” Aelin glanced down at herself. “Should I change?” 

“Actually, it might be easier if you kept the gown on for now, since they’ll probably want to do an internal ultrasound.” Dr. Yrene looked over at Sorscha. “Can you take her to imaging, Sorscha?” 

“Of course.” 

“Perfect.” 

Sorscha slipped out of the room and came back a few minutes later with a wheelchair, and she got Aelin settled and took her down the hallways and up an elevator to the fourth floor, where the imaging clinic was located. She spoke briefly to the receptionist and took Aelin into the clinic, bringing her into a softly-lit room. An ultrasound tech was waiting, Aelin’s order pulled up on her screen. She conferred briefly with Sorscha and helped Aelin get situated on the exam bed. 

After a brief explanation and demonstration of the ultrasound probe, the tech started the scan, and it was only a few minutes before Aelin looked over at the screen opposite her and saw a teeny tiny baby moving gently around inside of her uterus. 

The tears welled up again, and she didn’t stop them. 

“Congratulations,” the tech murmured, and she clicked away at the ultrasound machine, making notes and recording measurements. Aelin stared at the image of the tiny baby, overcome by an emotion so strong she didn’t have the proper words for it, and she was surprised when the tech finished the exam and asked her if she wanted prints of the images. 

Sorscha came back and took Aelin back down to the pre-procedure area, and she found herself back in the exam room with her ultrasounds, waiting for Yrene. The doctor brought in her own set of Aelin’s ultrasounds, and she was beaming when she came into the room. 

“I’m so happy for you and your husband,” she said. “He doesn’t know yet, of course, but when we bring him back, you’ll be able to tell him all about it. Did you want to wait for him to discuss prenatal care, or would you like to talk about the details with me first?” 

“Tell me first.” Aelin stroked her thumb over the black-and-white images. “I want to know how far I am and why the heck I didn’t know.” 

Yrene chuckled. “Well, according to the way things are measuring and the dates you’ve tracked for ovulation, you are twelve and a half weeks, almost out of the first trimester.” She pointed to part of one image. “Now, the reason you didn’t know is probably partially due to your endometriosis giving you false periods and partially because, as you see here, you have an anterior placenta, which means that the placenta is in the front of the uterus. So, you might not show any bump until later in pregnancy, and it will probably not be quite as big as you might expect.” She ran through a list of more details, pointing out relevant things on the ultrasounds. “All right, then, I think we’re ready to bring your husband back. Is there anything else you want to ask me?” 

“Could you have them do the blood draw before you bring Rowan back? I want to have it all taken care of before he sees me.” 

“Of course.” Yrene spoke quietly to Sorscha, and when the blood draw was done and Aelin had a small bandage in the crook of her elbow, both the nurse and the doctor left the room. It was Yrene who walked in shortly later with Rowan, and she grinned at Aelin as she left the two of them alone. 

“Hey, Fireheart.” Rowan’s brows furrowed in confusion as he looked around the room. “Is something wrong?” 

She shook her head. “Not at all.” 

“But you’re…” 

“I know.” She looked down at herself, still in the hospital gown but not hooked up to IVs and monitors like he’d expected her to be. “They can’t do the surgery right now, Rowan.” Her throat thickened, and she looked up at her husband with tears gleaming in her eyes. “Because I’m pregnant.” 

“What?!” He staggered backwards, his body going nearly boneless as he collapsed into the chair, shock and hope washing over his face. 

Aelin handed him the ultrasound photos, watched the joy brighten his features as he drank in the sight of their tiny baby cradled inside of her. “Twelve and a half weeks, and I didn’t believe the tests until I saw the ultrasound.”

“Fireheart,” he breathed, standing so he could go to her and wrap her in his loving arms. His tears dropped into her hair, but she ignored them, just as he ignored how her tears blotched his shirt. “This…I think this is the best thing that could have happened.” 

She chuckled through her tears. “Almost—I can’t have the surgery until after I give birth, but this is…definitely something we both hoped for.” 

“Yeah.” So gently, his thumb swept the tears from her cheeks. “And twelve weeks?”

“Yeah.” Grinning, she lifted his slack jaw back into place. “Dr. Yrene will talk to both of us about where we go from here.” He nodded, and she let him sit down on the bed beside her and loop his arm around her waist, his strength always her rock. The doctor walked back in and beamed at both of them, and she sat down and gave them a whole list of prenatal instructions. 

“But really, most of all, you know what works best for you and your health,” she concluded. “I like to tell my patients not to get too obsessed with the mommy books and social media mom advice, but gods know I can’t control that. I’ll see you in a few weeks, okay?” 

“Thank you so much.” Aelin impulsively hugged her doctor. After Yrene left, she turned back to Rowan, and she brushed the stray tears off of his chin. “It’s good news, love. It’s such good news.” 

“I know.” He passed her clothes to her, and she changed out of the hospital gown. A nurse came back to walk them out of the hospital, and they left with a completely different set of instructions than they’d expected when they arrived only a couple of hours earlier. 

 An entirely different outcome, but a miracle nonetheless.

~~~

TAGS:

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[violetasteracademic]

Why do you think elain is a better fit for azriel than gwyn?

Hi anon!

I've said this before, and don't mind saying it again and again million times; I ship story and theme, not characters. I'm not particularly quiet or shy about the fact that I absolutely love Gwyn and Lucien, and I've been met kindly and with respect from my mutuals who absolutely despise those characters or at best find them boring and don't care about them. So- I hope this doesn't come off as sarcastic, because I truly don't mean for it to be, but I don't think I even have the words to express how little I sit here comparing Gwyn and Elain as women and why one of them might be more "right" for Azriel than the other. I don't consider Gwyn as she pertains to Azriel, because I don't believe that she does pertain to Azriel. The story and themes I imagine for her are beyond Prythian, and it literally thrills me to think about what might be in store for her.

I am a huge Twilight of the Gods believer, and I think Gwyn and the Valkyrie are going to play a huge role in it. I actually ship Gwyn with Fenrys, in a borderline this is not a crack ship I really seriously believe it kind of way, and Fenrys is my second fave ToG man to Dorian. Whenever my bestie wants to make me cry randomly (in a good way), she'll send me blinks throughout the day. Iykyk.

And I love shipping Gwynrys (just made that up, open to work shopping for better ship names 😂) because they thematically and story wise make sense to me and excite and deeply move me.

They both are twins who had to witness the other half of their soul be murdered in front of them, then were horrifically SA'd afterwards. They both responded to that trauma with absolute silence- Fenrys remaining in his wolf form because he could not bring himself to speak, and Gwyn remaining silent for five months after returning to the library. If they ever met and discovered they share the same tragic past and they both overcame it to be strong, loyal, and beloved friends- omg. I just got chills typing this. They could stand to connect on that deep level that Feysand shares, that Rowaelin shares, that I obviously think Elriel shares. They could see that depth and pain within in each other in a way no one else could understand, then would be the first to volunteer to stand at the front lines in a war against the gods.

I process SJM's couples as being deeply and thematically connected, and I see that with Gwyn and Fenrys and truly believe side characters who haven't gotten their HEA's will do so in the new series. They had complete arcs that became very cherished by the fandom, and though their emotional and character growth in service of the main characters were complete, their story simply didn't feel quite finished.

Anywho. Now I'm turning this into a Let Me Tell You Why I Ship Gwyn and Fenrys seminar 😂 but honestly, I couldn't say that I don't think Gwyn and Az aren't right or good for each other. They could be if these were real people and we were trying to matchmake character traits. I just don't know what they would be together in the story as it stands now.

Whatever their story would be- it would have to be dripping with more sexual tension and angst and longing than Azriel and Elain have. It would have to be more powerful and more interesting than the Cauldron being wrong, going up against fate, and discovering that the Cauldron has in fact been corrupted. Their partnership would have to do more for the women of the world (as both Nesta and Feyre did in their stories with restoring female High Ladies in Prythian and warriors in Illyria) than what Az and Elain stand to do- get to the bottom of the corruption done by the Asteri, which is likely why unhappy and poorly matched mating bonds exist in Prythian, and fix it. Thus freeing not only themselves, but every woman who stood to be a pawn or an object and forced into a lifetime of misery with a man she didn't love lest she risk violence or spend the rest of her life wondering why she didn't love her mate and if she made a mistake.

I don't personally vibe with or agree with the (admittedly few, I stay out of the G/wynriel space not because I hate the idea of the ship but to protect myself from the conversation surrounding women's birthing abilities making them viable love interests) ideas I've heard about Gwyn and Az. That she will save Illyria- absolutely not. That belongs to Emerie. That she will be a sidekick in a new Nesta POV book. That sounds terrible to me. SJM has spoken on how freaky and hot Azriel's spice is going to be, and I'm supposed to just not want the woman's half of the POV because she's a side character in Nesta and Azriel's story? No thank you. No one has presented a story that I would want to read more than Azriel and Elain's, or a story that I believe makes any sense and is worth erasing all the work put into Az and Elain as far as this year 2024 in HoFaS with confirming the problems with the Cauldron.

Look, I'm still pretty new. I joined this online fandom, my first time ever doing so, this spring after HoFaS left me spiralling with thoughts and ideas of the future of SJM's books. Then I started writing fanfic. Then I started analyzing the text to comfort people who had the same experience as me- being someone who couldn't wait for Az and Elain's book and came online to a shocking, Elain hating bloodbath.

I do think that this shipwar is a very strange phenomenon born of an extreme dislike for Elain, whether people want to admit it or not. Elain and Azriel have all the same elements Feysand and Nessian had to set up their romance, but suddenly narratives that have never happened in the history of SJM have been created to explain it away. The "just lust" narrative literally does not exist in the SJM codex. It's not a thing. But it's a thing now for people who don't like Azriel and Elain together to try to erase Elain's existence and convince the world how it is completely impossible for her book to be next or for her to be with Azriel simply because they don't want those things to be true.

I do not care about whether or not ships are even canon. I could go on and on about all my favorite non canon ships, and times I thought the canon story was dead ass wrong 😂 It just so happens that when it comes to Az and Elain, I ride SO HARD for the canon text. People who ship G/wynriel will likely continue to ship them, and that is what fandom is for. I don't mind that they exist. I do wish everyone, on all sides, was kinder.

To me, the only love triangle exists between Azriel, Elain, and Lucien, which is why most of my theory or analysis posts center around them. I think Gwyn was an incredibly successful (maybe too successful) red herring. My opinion is that the bonus chapter was meant to re-touch on and shine light to her powers, and also create little question mark so it wasn't too obvious Elain and Azriel are endgame when she still hasn't formally rejected her mate since she hasn't had her book yet. Instead, it lit a wildfire for a group of people who were already primed and ready to erase Elain and replace her.

Maybe Gwyn and Azriel as characters removed from this story and put in a different one would be great together. In fact, I'm certain they would. They are great characters and I'm sure they could be written beautifully. I prefer what Az and Elain have got going on, but that's personal preference. I think Gwyn already had a complete arc, and I loved it, and now I'm crawling out of my skin with excitement for Elain's story.

I hope that sort of answers your question. I'm just not really interested in pitting Gwyn and Elain against each other for Azriel's attention, and I don't believe the books actually created or intended that.

Pleaaaase let me know if there are any fellow multiverse shippers out there 🙏 cause we are thinking too small focusing only on ACOTAR!

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day Five: Birthdays @rowaelinscourt

Month Masterlist // AO3 // Find Part One Here (not necessary to read)

Summary: Forced to live together during covid, Rowan and Aelin have their own series of misgivings while trying to get along.

Warnings: references to covid, but really it's fluff ~1.8k words

.*.*.*.*.

Level of Concern (tell me we're ok)

If she hadn’t expressed it enough already: Aelin hated the pandemic.  She hated isolation.  She hated separation.  She hated the unknown.  She hated all of it.

Yes, she knew it was important and key to seeing lower number spikes and she knew this was all she could do aside from getting vaccinated and it was all very important to take seriously.  Sure.  Fine.

But why did it feel so lonely?

She sat at the kitchen table staring at her breakfast of granola and milk wishing it were a triple decked pile of Nutella pancakes.  Her groceries were running low and since money was tight, she had to wait until her paycheck cleared on Friday before she could go to the store.  It was Monday.

Aelin glanced at her phone.  Again.

No messages.

It was only eight, earlier than her family knew she would ever get up.  Especially on a day like today.  Still.  She would have expected at least one text from Aedion.

A small shuffle down the hall told her that Rowan was awake.  Of course he was.  Aelin was pretty sure he woke up by five-thirty so he could still work out in the living room.  It really pissed her off that he wasn’t getting fat.  She’d gained two pounds since quarantine began.  Not that she could really tell…honestly, she knew it didn’t mean anything and who the hell cared what her body looked like.  If she didn’t have to worry about money she’d be eating her weight in cake right now.

“Are you alright?”

Aelin looked up to see Rowan standing in the kitchen entryway.  She hadn’t noticed his entrance, only thinking he was moving from bathroom to bedroom.

“So good,” she said.  She took a bite of now soggy granola and hated her entire existence.

Rowan, dressed in his usual slacks and neat button up, went to start a pot of coffee.  His pine scented soap permeated the air and Aelin tried not to sniff too loudly.  Why did he have to smell good too?

After the entire incident with the cookie dough weeks ago, Aelin had tried to put some much needed distance between the two of them.  Well, much needed for her.  He didn’t need her being awkward and fluttery around him.  Because she wasn’t.  Obviously.  He was just attractive and she was an idiot.

Rowan took a seat at the table across from her, bowl of premade overnight oats and bowl of berries set before him.  How much did he make that he could afford fresh fruit?  In this economy?  Maybe, maybe, once a month did she indulge on some nicer foods.  But after the “great egg famine” she relied a bit too heavily on cheaper items.  She should try working out.  Maybe that would help her slump.

“You’re staring at me,” Rowan said.  He was looking at his phone with some news app opened. 

“Am not.” Another soggy bite of granola.

“Sure,” he replied, drawing the word out.

Aelin rolled her eyes and stood.  She wasn’t going to finish this food, no matter how painful it was to waste it.  Besides, she had to prepare for her day.  She’d managed to snag a few jobs for the week that would hopefully keep her busy enough to ignore the fact that this birthday was going to be the worst she’d ever had.

#

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully.  Which Aelin had built herself up for, really.

Elide was a travelling nurse and with Covid, she’d been busier than ever.  Aedion was still stationed overseas doing something that was uber classified.  He could just say he was training with the SEALS and be done with it.  Lysandra had launched a new clothing store right before lockdown and was doing everything in her power to keep the little shop up and running.  Aelin spent a decent chunk of her paycheck on items from the store and most of her Insta feed was just reels Lysandra created.

She couldn’t be mad at any of them, not really.  Not even her own parents.  Her father had been leveraging to retire from his company but that hope had been shot out the window and her mother was helping to care for some relatives that were also struggling.  No one was immune to the chaos the last several months had caused.

Aelin was finally able log off her personal website having finished the long list of assignments and editing jobs.  Now she just needed to hear back from her clients and their re-edits.

Out in the kitchen Rowan was already bustling around.  She could hear pots banging and already a delightful aroma was permeating the air.  It was only five-fifteen, he must have finished up his day early, a first for him.

Scrubbing a hand down her face, Aelin grabbed one of her oversized flannels and tugged it on over her graphic tee, Read Banned Books was printed over the front.  It probably needs to be washed but she couldn’t be bothered with laundry.

As she shuffles out of her room she tried to decide what she has left to eat for dinner.  A frozen dinner or maybe ramen.  Which sounded terrible if she were being honest.

“I’ll be quick—” she began to tell Rowan as she entered the kitchen.  But she came up short when she saw the table was made up with two place settings.  And the stove was full of more than enough food for one person. 

She frowned.  Rowan was adamant over the rules of social distancing, his parents were older and at a higher risk of getting infected, so he wouldn’t have anyone over—the vaccine hadn’t rolled out for their area yet anyways.

Rowan glanced up at her, kitchen towel slung over one shoulder, his sleeves were rolled up leaving his forearms on display and bits of his tattoo peeking out from the fabric.

She was definitely staring.

“Happy birthday,” he said when she didn’t finish her thought. He gestured a hand around the messy kitchen then the table. “I was expecting you to take a little longer, so it’s not quite ready.”

Aelin blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“I know it’s your birthday Aelin,” he said, “and I’m sure it’s been hell for you today.  I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Something…nice?

“You made me dinner?” she asked, trying desperately to ignore the way her heart gave a flip in her chest.

“Yeah,” he said simply.  He glanced back at the stove. “It’s only a Tuscan chicken and bread.”

It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her in ages.  She looked over his shoulder as the chicken in its cream and sundried tomato sauce as it bubbled happily away, a pot of pasta behind it.  There were dishes scattered in the sink (she’d never seen him make such a mess before) and Rowan did have a mildly frantic look in his eyes.  It was the most disheveled she’d ever seen him.

“Thank-you,” Aelin said.  She brushed a hand through her hair unsure why she was feeling so frazzled.  “Can I help with anything.”

Rowan shook his head. “We’re almost done anyways.  Have a seat and I’ll bring it over.”

Following his direction, Aelin settled into her chair, still trying to figure out if she’d stepped into a different reality.

“How’d you know it was my birthday?” she asked as he finished getting everything together.

“Elide texted me,” Rowan told her, “told me that she didn’t know her schedule to give you a call and your family is…busy.”

“Right,” Aelin agreed.  Elide was dating one of Rowan’s friends, Lorcan, so it wasn’t completely strange that she would at least know of him.  “Where’d you learn to cook anyways?  You’re always whipping something up.”

“My ma,” Rowan said.  He dished a plate of food and returned it back before her.  Heavenly scents wafted up to her and Aelin realized she was salivating. “She always said she wanted to make sure I could take care of myself.  And I liked it, so I kept cooking after I went to college.”

It was the most she’d ever heard from him.  And now…now she wanted to hear more from him.

Rowan dished his own plate and sat in the chair opposite her. “I hope you like it.”

“It smells amazing,” she admitted.  She got a forkful of all the bits of the meal; chicken, basil, sundried tomatoes, parmesan cheese, all drenched in sauce.  Unable to wait for it to cool down she stuffed it into her mouth.  Rowan watched her with mixed bemusement (mostly concern).

“Oh,” she moaned, ignoring the look he was giving her.  “This is the best thing ever.”

“You’re going to burn your mouth to hell,” he said, slowly readying his own bite.

“Too good,” she replied.  She was only on her second bite and planning on seconds.  If he was going to cook for her, she’d eat every last bite.

Rowan muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t make out but she didn’t care.  It had been ages since she’d had a decent homecooked meal and this was more than decent.

“Was your day alright, all things considered?” he asked, passing her the garlic bread.

Aelin finally managed to slow down and take a drink of water and some of the proffered bread.  She took a moment to consider her answer.  If she told the truth he’d probably pity her more.

“It was okay,” she said.  “Same old.  I got a few new clients so it was keeping me busy.”  She wouldn’t see payout from these jobs for at least another three weeks which was why she was banking on this Friday’s payments to come through. “What about you?  No big ‘ol problems for you?”

She was teasing him, mostly.  He’d given her enough grief about her English degree in this economy that she didn’t being a little snippy right back at him.

Rowan rolled his eyes.  He took another bite to furlong his response.  “Same as always.”

Aelin quirked her brow. “So that f-bomb this morning was…what? Catharsis?”

“Yes.”

He responded too quickly that Aelin knew she had him.

“Right,” she drawled. “It’s alright to hate your job you know, no one will judge you or your fancy degree for it.”

“Aelin.”

She shrugged, mouth quirking in a smile. “Last one, promise.”

“I don’t trust you on that,” he said.

Aelin wasn’t offended.

They finished meal companionably, which shocked Aelin more than Rowan cooking for her.  And she helped him clean the dishes, because really, she wasn’t that terrible a person.

“So, no chocolate cake?” She asked as she dried the last pan.

“I cook not bake,” he said, “you’re on your own for that, princess.”

She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him.  As he turned to head back to his room for the night, Aelin garnered the last amount of courage she had for that day.

“Rowan,” she said, calling him back.  “Thank-you for tonight.”

He offered her one, rare smile. “You’re welcome.”

.*.*.*.

thanks for reading!! reblogs and comments appreciated. my blog @writtenonreceiptswrites is my fic only blog where i reblog all updates!

[throneofsapphics]

have your little girlfriend, part five

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: She never wanted to find out whether a blood oath or mating bond would be stronger. Gods only know it might take months to unravel the mess they’re in now. 

Word Count: ~6.5k 

Warnings: darkish aelin/rowan, possessiveness, toxic relationships, minors injuries/mentions of blood, smut, thigh riding, nsfw, minors dni!

A/N: honestly idk where this is going, i’m just writing on vibes, but reader still has a backbone. this got deleted somehow :(, special thank you to @moonlightttfae

series masterlist

“I’ll be with Fenrys,” she said. It was another iteration of the same conversation they’d had the last three days. Her bringing up visiting home, Aelin and Rowan not disagreeing or agreeing, but questioning the safety of it. Technically, she supposed she didn’t need their permission, but it would be much easier if she could convince them to agree. Would they drag her back to Orynth if she left on her own? She didn’t want to find out. Her eyes shuttered closed. She wouldn’t give up on this, she needed to see her family. Needed to get some space. Fenrys had offered to speak to them, but she wanted to handle this on her own. To fight her own battles. 

She had an idea. One she would surely regret. “What if …” she swallowed harshly, “I agreed to train with you,” she directed her gaze towards Rowan first, and then Aelin. 

“Without complaining?” Rowan leaned back, crossing his arms. 

“I’ve never complained,” he raised one brow at her. Maybe she had, once or twice. “It’s not my fault you’re …” she tried to find a nicer word to say. 

“Ah asshole?” Aelin offered. “Dickhead? Bastard?” Rowan cut a glare at her, but she only grinned. 

“Harsh,” you settled on. 

“I promise I'll be …” Rowan’s the one who couldn’t find a word this time. She pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh. “Considerate.” 

Aelin chuckled. “How kind of you, your Highness.” 

She straightened in her chair. “I’ll train with you,” she tapped her fingers on the table. “Three times.” 

“Seven,” he countered. She started low on purpose. 

“Five.” 

“Ten.” 

Gods-damned in. Aelin only looked on amusement. Ten times. She had to leave in twenty days. Between work, spending time with them, and her friends, she didn’t quite have time to train everyday. Well, not in the way Rowan likes to train - grueling sessions, at least three hours.  

“Seven.” She countered, he looked like he was going to raise it further, but Aelin fixed him with a look. 

“Fine,” he grunted. 

-

The weeks leading up to the visit, she spent so much time in her animal form it began to worry Rowan. He remembered the ten years he spent in his … after Lyria’s death. Maybe she was still healing - from everything she’d lost during those ten years. Her parents, several of her family members. He glanced down at the white fox, curled up next to his desk, snoring softly. She looked peaceful, and at ease. 

She was leaving in three days and something in his chest clenched at how far away she’d be, at how he wouldn’t be there if anything happened. Or how difficult it would be to get to her. Aelin had threatened Fenrys so thoroughly he didn’t need to do it. As much as the male could annoy him sometimes, he trusted him with his life, and more importantly with hers. If anything happened to her, he’d make him regret being born. 

He called her name softly, and her head raised, pretty eyes blinking away the haze of sleep. “Shift back,” to his surprise, she actually listened - and didn’t look too upset at his order. 

“You interrupted a perfectly good nap,” her fists rubbed at her eyes, lips turning into something between a frown and a pout. 

His mouth turned up at the corners, and he held out a hand. “I missed you.” 

Her eyes softened, and she took it, letting him tug her into his lap. She nestled her head into the crook between his shoulder and neck, he had one arm wrapped around her, the other still shuffling through reports he had to get through by the end of the night. A few more days, and everything should calm down for the holidays. But by then … she’d be gone. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but her breaths had evened out, body relaxing into him, and he was reluctant to interrupt her sleep. Again. Rowan pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

The door swung open, and from the corner of his eye he saw Aelin striding in - looking both irritated and exhausted. She paused, tilting her head to look at the two of them, before a small smile creeped onto her face. Aelin had certainly come a long way, managing to curb most of her jealousy surrounding y/n, at least with him. 

“I’m stealing her,” her eyes said. He narrowed his. “You’ve had her for the last few hours.” 

“She just shifted back.” 

“And?” Aelin shot him an irritating grin, making her way to their side and pressing a kiss to his cheek. She perched up on his desk, shoving some of his papers out of the way. 

Y/n stirred in his lap, lifted her head up. She beamed as she saw Aelin. Looks like Aelin wouldn’t have to steal her anyway. Aelin leaned forward, balancing precariously, and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, before sliding off the table. 

She cupped one hand around her cheek, tilting y/n’s head to deepen the kiss, the other female moved, brushing against him. His teeth tug into his bottom lip as he bit back a groan, hardening beneath her. The little devil noticed, because she moved again, more intentionally. His hands gripped her hips, holding her firmly in place, she was straddling his leg now, back arching as Aelin kept pulling her closer. Fuck. 

He kissed down the side of her neck, scraping his canines over her pulse point. Rowan kissed over the two small scars on her neck. His mark. Where he’d claimed her. How everyone would know exactly who she belonged to. 

Her arousal started dripping on to him, her hips wiggling to try and get some release, some friction. He dug his fingers into her hips in warning, and she stopped. Aelin let out an edged chuckle. She was always amused by how easily y/n listened to him. Well, how she listened when she wanted to. 

“Please,” her voice was breathy, and he knew she was asking him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her back to meld her body against his. Aelin leaned back against the desk, hands gripping at the wood - lips swollen. 

“Let her.” Aelin shot him a look. She was always soft when it came to her. 

“Go on,” he told her, and pushed gently between her shoulder blades, landing a gentle swat on her thigh. “If you want it that badly, take it.” 

Her head twisted over her shoulder, tilting her head at him. 

“Ride his thigh, petal,” Aelin said. 

He groaned in mock frustration, before gripping her hips again, helping her to start moving. 

“Don’t be mean,” Aelin tutted at him. Rowan ignored her, focusing on y/n, currently growing bolder with her movements, rocking her hips back and forth over them, soft moans and whimpers leaving her throat. Aelin’s fingers white knuckled against the wood, fighting the urge to step in, but flames danced in her eyes, lust glazing over as she watched, scenting the same arousal he did. Three different scents mixing through the room, flooding it. It was strong enough that anyone would know better than to knock. If they wanted their head still attached to their shoulders. 

As much as he liked to tease Aelin, he was equally territorial over her. If anyone else even glimpsed her like this, he’d rip their gods-damned eyes out. 

“I’m close,” she panted, “please please please,” 

“Go on,” Aelin said before he could answer, winking at him. His eyes rolled, but he tightened his grip on her hips, helping her move faster, harsher. 

Her thighs clenched around him, body stiffening, and Aelin leaned forward to swallow her moans, letting her ride out her pleasure. As soon as she started to come down, started to relax - muscles loosening, Aelin swiftly gripped under her thighs, pulling her up into her arms. Y/n laughed as her legs wrapped around her waist, arms draping over her shoulders. 

“You’re invited,” Aelin said over her shoulder as she headed for their bedroom, a sheet of golden hair swishing behind her. Hair he wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers into. The other female buried a laugh, tucking her head into her neck. He scowled. Aelin’s well aware he still has work to finish. A wink, and she disappeared, kicking the door shut behind her. 

-

The next three days passed quickly, and a few tears slipped down her face as she left, but she managed to wipe them away before Aelin or Rowan could see. She would miss them, absolutely, but she was incredibly excited for the trip. For the chance to get to see everyone again - and to visit her home. Well, Orynth was her home, but so was out there. In the mountains, far beyond any of the hustle and bustle of the cities. 

Fenrys shifted first, and she followed - taking off at a steady trot. They traveled in peaceful silence, listening to the various bird calls, water from the streams splashing on stone, pattering of paws against snow. 

Freedom, that’s what this felt like. Majority of their journey was spent in their animal forms - the easiest way to stave off the cold. They hadn’t brought much food with them, knowing they could hunt for whatever they needed. 

They only shifted as they approached the village, a mile or so out. Fenrys had shivered, wrapping his cloak tighter around him. She nudged him in the ribs, “at least act tough, brother.”

He cut a nasty glare at her, but she shot a grin back his way. Y/n thought about making it a surprise, but ended up sending word ahead that she’d be coming with Fenrys. They’d remember him, of course. He’d already made several trips this far north for his duties as Emissary. Although this one was more pleasure than business. 

“Nervous?” He asked, glancing at her. 

She swallowed and nodded. “It’s been a while.” 

Fenrys gave her a side hug, a silent it’ll be fine. She appreciated it. He released his arm as they approached the village, a female sprinting out towards her with a squeal. 

Her cousin, Lida. She shoved her pack into Fenrys’s arms, ignoring his oof, and sprinted towards her. 

-

The decorations in Orynth were beautiful. They always were this time of year, but something was missing. Someone was missing. Rowan held her hand, running his thumb over the back of her palm. 

“We’ll make sure she’s here next year,” he murmured, voice soft enough only she could hear. 

“Every year,” Aelin corrected. “I don’t want her to leave again.” 

“Neither do I,” Rowan said hesitantly, “but we need to be careful.” 

Maybe it’s wrong. It’s definitely wrong. But, Aelin hoped she was feeling as miserable as she was - was missing her just as much. There’s nothing wrong with wanting her mate close by. 

A muscle in her jaw flexed. She was surrounded by all of her court - her family, but without her it didn’t feel complete. Without her and Fenrys. She ran her tongue over the back of her teeth, and refocused her attention on Lysandra’s story. Something about the local ghost leopard population. 

-

“Are you ready to be home?” Fenrys asked. They had about three hours left, and decided to travel the rest of the way in Fae form.  

“I don’t know,” she gave an honest answer, not looking at him. “It was nice to see everyone, and I missed them, but …” 

“You’re not certain how they’ll … be,” he finished for her. Y/n nodded at him, lips pressing into a tight line. Part of her feared Aelin and Rowan wouldn’t let her go again, and she told Fenrys that. 

“I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen,” he’d replied. No promises or guarantees, and she appreciated that. The blanket honesty he always came with. He’d fight for her, she knew that, but if Aelin or Rowan put their minds to something - there isn’t much either of them could realistically do about it. 

The gates came into view, two figures along with it. Aelin had broken into a sprint. Fenrys quickly tugged the straps of her pack off her shoulders, and she sprinted to meet her halfway. 

The impact sent her stumbling back a few feet, but Aelin wrapped her arms around her waist, holding her upright. She breathed in her scent, letting jasmine and lemon verbena overtake her senses. Her mate. The bond between them thrummed with joy, that they were together again - reunited. Like it was mad at her for spending time apart. Another warm body caged her in, somehow managing to twist her around in Aelin’s grip, her face turning to press against a hard chest. He laid a kiss down on the top of her head. 

They didn’t need words to explain it. She felt it - their relief that she was back now, and safe in their arms. The pure possession in their touch filled some part of her, the wanting to be desired - to know her mates claimed her as much as she did them. How she proudly wore her mating marks - never making an effort to hide them, never disguising her scent, wrapped up in theirs so thoroughly everyone knew who she belonged to. As much as she was theirs, they were hers. 

She didn’t protest as Rowan slung her up over his shoulder, tapping her ass lightly as she laughed. He carted her right off to the bedroom, Aelin hot on their heels, and showed her just how much they missed her. 

-

She was still sleeping when Aelin snuck out, no doubt exhausted from the trip and traveling back. Trudging through the forest and snow for days was enough to exhaust anyone - even in animal form. The first person she sought out was Fenrys - who apparently was expecting her, and asked her what took so long. 

“Tell me how it went,” Aelin instructed him. The male let out a slow breath. “All of it.” Aelin added, and his face tightened. Whatever it was, he wasn’t keen on telling her - and a few years ago she may have felt a bit guilty, but when it comes to her mate she wants to know everything. 

“They were very welcoming, and thrilled to see her. She … came alive.” Y/n did seem to be glowing. “It took some convincing to get her to stick to our original itinerary.” 

Aelin could read through those lines easily, she didn’t want to leave. 

“Aelin,” Fenrys cautioned as she felt resentment build up inside of her. “She needed it, she’s already lost so much -” 

“She has us,” she interrupted, but he ignored it. 

“And her family needed her.” Aelin swallowed harshly. He knew exactly what strings to pull. A duty to her people as well, and if some of them needed her mate’s presence, she couldn’t easily deny it. Her oath to the country wouldn’t allow her. “They’re true northerners,” Fenrys switched subjects, “I don’t think I’ve ever been that hungover before. I’d bet gold her family could drink you or Aedion under the table.”

He went on to describe some kind of homemade liquor or wine they made, strong and dangerous apparently. You couldn’t taste the alcohol in it, but luckily y/n had stopped him after the third glass - telling him her family was getting him that wasted on purpose, to test him out.

-

“How was your trip?” Rowan asked, sitting down at the breakfast table. He’d been reluctant to let go of her, at all, and currently she was perched in his lap. He needed the closeness, to feel her body against his - to know she was here and present. 

“It was good,” she said hesitantly, glancing between the two of them, her neck arching to search his face. He ran his knuckles down the column on her neck, her pulse fluttering beneath them. 

“Just good?” He raised her brows at her. 

“Wonderful. I missed them. It’s beautiful out there.” 

“Can’t be as pretty as Orynth,” Aelin mused, taking a sip of her tea. Y/n gave her a small smile, but didn’t comment. He narrowed his eyes at his wife, tucking y/n’s head back into his chest so she wouldn’t see their silent argument. She could always read the words in their eyes, so he ran his thumb over her cheekbone, sure enough her eyes closed at the touch, a small sigh leaving her lips. He’d taken his sweet time to learn all of her reactions, how every touch affected her. 

Are you going to say anything? Aelin teased him. She also knows what he’s doing now. If y/n does, she hadn’t said anything, but he suspects she doesn’t. 

I know what you’re trying to do. Turquoise and gold eyes narrowed at him. Aelin wanted her to say she liked Orynth more, or put some kind of primary claim on their city. Wanted some kind of assurance that she wouldn’t up and move back out there. This is still her home. 

Aelin didn’t look wholly convinced. His arms tightened around her. She’d tried to leave once, when it was just her and Aelin, and he knew that fear always settled in the back of his wife’s mind. That she’d slip through a crack, through their fingers, and they’d lose her. 

I can’t lose her. Aelin said, as if she’d read his thoughts. 

We won’t. 

-

She knew they were speaking, having some sort of silent conversation. Rowan doesn’t know she’s aware of his little trick, but she’s more observant than he gives her credit for sometimes. She’ll never tell them she’s aware of it. Because, even if she can’t hear it - knowing when they’re having it, and what circumstance, tells her plenty. It’s obvious they’re speaking about her - they’ve never hidden talking about state matters in front of her.  

She let out a yawn, covering her mouth. “It’s good to be home,” she mumbled into his chest. “Can we take a nap?” 

“You slept twelve hours,” Aelin chided. 

She twisted her head enough to see her. “And I’ve been running for a week.” 

Her mate’s mouth curved up at one side. “Fair enough.”

-

She waited six months before approaching the subject again, and did so casually over dinner. She hadn’t approached Fenrys yet, but figured she could thro the idea out there. “I’m thinking about visiting again, soon.” 

As expected, they both went preternaturally still. They were going to have the exact reaction she hoped they wouldn’t, but realistically knew they would. 

“Why?” Aelin asked, too casually. 

“I miss them.” She frowned. Wouldn’t that be obvious? 

“You have us.” She countered. “You just saw them at yulemas.” 

“I’d like to see them more, It’s not enough just to -” 

“We’ve always been enough. What’s different now?” Aelin hissed at her. 

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” she snapped. “I need my friends, I need my family, I need you. You can’t expect me to pick and isolate myself from everyone else.” They seemed ready to cut in, but she kept going, “I was embarrassed at how shocked they were to see me,” tears built in her eyes. Her tears were always Aelin’s weakness, and sure enough the female’s face softened - even as Rowan’s remained a solid wall of stone.

“Stop. Crying.” Rowan said through gritted teeth. That only made the tears fall heavier. He didn’t seem to give a damn. “If you’d quit being emotional, we could actually talk about this.” 

She shoved her chair back, rising to her feet. They both rose with her, her fists clenched at her side. “There’s nothing wrong with crying or being emotional.” 

“It keeps you from thinking clearly,” he countered. 

She needed to get out of here. The tension in the room was stifling. Maybe it made her a coward to flee, but she couldn’t, couldn’t handle this right now. She made it one foot from the door, before a shield of flames blocked her exit. White hot anger and rage filled her, how dare she? Slowly, she turned back to face them. Neither of them looked apologetic, or like they thought anything about this was wrong. 

“We need to talk about this.” Rowan said mildly. 

She didn’t care. Maybe she was overreacting, but at this point common sense left her. “I don’t want to talk,” her voice rose, “I want space.” 

“I don’t give a fuck.” Aelin matched her pitch, crossing the room to stand before her. 

-

Rowan watched his two mates scream at each other. Normally, he would’ve interfered by now - diffused the situation, but he was pissed. She wanted to leave them, after she’d just gotten back. Six months is a decent amount of time, but every minute away from her hurt. Did the bond not feel as urgent to her as it did to them? 

“You leave for weeks at a time, why can’t I?” 

“We have duties to our country,” Aelin seethed. 

“I have a duty to my family. Are they not as important?” 

“You’d choose them over us?” Rowan cut in, moving to stand next to Aelin. He wasn’t being fair, and he knew that - but he didn’t care right now. All of their tempers were too hot. 

“I refuse to choose.” 

“And if you had to?” He cocked his head. He wouldn’t make her choose, but he wanted to know the answer. 

She shook her head rapidly, “don’t make me answer that.” 

“It’s a mating bond. You. Can’t. Leave.” Aelin said through gritted teeth. 

Her face was flushed, fists still clenched at her side. “I’m not fucking leaving. Get it through your head.”

“Watch your tone,” he snarled. 

Aelin surged forward, gripping her chin with one hand, and kissed her. Y/n stiffened beneath her, but her body reacted on instinct, lips moving against Aelin’s. He watched - almost in slow motion, as her mind caught up with what was happening, and she shoved Aelin off. 

”You don’t get to kiss me to shut me up.” 

He saw red. 

-

Aelin felt Rowan’s anger, and held up a hand before he could do something he might really regret. He paused, he’d been mid stride heading closer to y/n, and took a step back, body tight and stiff. 

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, half-heartedly. 

“You’re not,” she countered coolly. Aelin shrugged, but noticed how she watched Rowan with pure … terror. She’d never looked that afraid of him before. 

“Rowan won’t do anything to you.” 

Her shoulders relaxed, slightly. Rowan couldn’t hurt her, not really, but she knew if y/n made Aelin upset - hurt her in any way, the blood oath reacted to a potential threat against his Queen. The last thing she needs is for her to be afraid of him, for any more damage to be done. She never wanted to find out whether a blood oath or mating bond would be stronger. Gods know it might take months to unravel the mess they’re in now.

She thought about that time, years ago, when she originally tried to leave. She’d needed to figure out how to keep her, and keep her happy in the process. Aelin had an innate fear that she might leave one day and never return. Politics wouldn’t let her storm into the staghorns and take her back. The bond would likely bring her back, eventually, but she didn’t want to take that chance. 

“Let’s find a compromise,” she offered. 

“Why do I have to compromise when it comes to my family?” She was still spitting mad. Aelin winced at the bitterness in her tone. “Just give me some space, Aelin.” 

The wall of flames still blocked the exit. 

“So you can run away?” Rowan had crossed his arms, but not moved an inch. 

Hurt and betrayal filled her eyes. “You really think I’d leave you?” 

“I don’t know,” she gave her an honest answer. She owed it to her not to lie. Owed her that respect, even if it hurt her. She circled around them, giving Rowan an especially wide berth, and headed towards the bedroom. She watched her, not trailing after her. If she wanted space, she could have it in here - or in the castle. The door closed behind her, and she heard the lock snick closed, as if that might actually keep them out. 

-

Early summer, and the sun was still bright - despite the late hour, soothing and warm on her skin as she braced her hands on the balcony railing. Tilting her head up to feel the sun, her mind replayed the encounter. She hated fighting with them, hated it so gods-damned much. And hated that she could see where they were coming from. 

Choosing. She knew the answer they wanted to hear, of course, but refused to give it to them. He had no right to ask that of her. It’s like asking them to choose between Terrasen and her, and that’s something she’d never request. Not in an eternity, not for the entire life they’d get to live together. Mainly because she knew the answer. Aelin would never abandon her country and neither would Rowan. But, the difference is she’d never make them choose. 

Gods, she’d lost too much already. Her family, the ones left, are something she can’t stand to lose as well. Part of her, a part she needed to shove deep, deep down, was tempted to leave for a while - to prove a point. She pressed her head down against the railing. Prove that she could leave and come back. That she was still capable of having a life outside of them. But who was she proving that to? Herself or them? 

Would it serve any purpose? If she really wanted to go, would they let her? If they dragged her back, it would break her but if they let her go, it would too. 

Maybe some part of her is broken, for even thinking of testing them like that - of putting them and herself through that kind of pain.

The perfect phase had passed, and everything was shattering around her. The sun was setting before her, she needed to do something. Maybe they’d “let” her go down to her workshop. Or she’d argue with them enough til they either had to let her go or knock her out. 

“I’m going down to my shop,” she announced as she strolled back through, sparing a passing glance at them. She seethed internally as Rowan gave her a quick nod. It was probably acknowledgement rather than permission, but everything was out of sorts for her now. Everything was skewed. Her mind shut off as her feet took the usual path, through back halls and servants passageways, avoiding all occupants of the castle. 

Slowly, she opened the door. Everything in here was just as she’d left it this afternoon. Down to the tools strewn around the place, as if she knew she’d need to come back later. Aimlessly, she wandered around the space they’d created for her. 

Something snapped. Tomorrow, she wouldn’t be able to tell how she got to that point, but as soon as she picked up an object - a glass ball, painstakingly painted with small intricate designs - she threw it across the room, watching it shatter on the floor. 

It felt good. She picked up another, and another, watching them all smash to the floor - into a thousand tiny shards.

She didn’t hear the door open, didn’t hear the low curses, but heard her name. She whirled around, ball still in hand, arm cocked back. Fenrys. He held both hands up, taking slow steps towards her. His eyes scanned the room, picking up on all of the shattered glass behind her. She took a step back, and back, not registering the glass digging into the bottom of her feet, when did she lose her shoes? Her balance faltered, sending her careening forwards, knees digging into the glass. The pain didn’t register. 

Fenrys called her name again, eyes pleading. She froze, and recognized the look. Haunted by something in the past, in his past. His boots crunched, glass breaking further beneath him. Y/n let him take the small ball left from her hand, watched as he slowly placed it on the table before coming back, offering a hand out to her. 

She took it, rising up to her feet - wincing at the first hint of pain. “Don’t take me to them. Please.” 

He only nodded at her, and carefully picked her up - minding the shards of glass still sticking from her skin. She didn’t feel anything as he took a pair of tweezers, plucking the small bits out. Her body healed quickly, not leaving a scratch behind. He found a washcloth somewhere, wiping the blood away - any last reminders of what happened as well. Finally, he took a seat down across from her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head. “Do you need to talk about it?” 

Her throat bobbed, constricting almost painfully, and she nodded. An arm reached across the table, palm facing the ceiling. She placed her hand in his, letting him squeeze, and everything spilled. With the exception of her thoughts about leaving, because Aelin could easily ask him - and he’d feel obligated to tell. But, she could tell he saw where her mind went. 

“I know what they’re doing is wrong,” he started - and she heard the but. “This isn’t an excuse,” he took a deep breath, “Rowan lost Lyria, almost lost Aelin several times, and Aelin almost lost you. That’s what they’re scared of the most.” 

He let the words settle in, waiting patiently for her thoughts. 

“They really thought I'd leave. Permanently.” 

He paused, leaning back in his chair. “You need to make them believe you won’t, that’s the only way they’ll loosen up.” 

“What am I supposed to do? Take them home with me?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’re always reluctant to meet my friends, or family.” 

Fenrys let out a big sigh. “Then pester them until one of them comes with you.” 

“It’s a long trip,” she frowned. A long time for one of them to be away from the capitol - and to leave the other completely alone. That would only brew jealousy. 

Fenrys leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Whitethorn will visit Allsbrook at some point - likely next time the Bane is nearby there. We’ll time our visit - get him to fly his ass over the mountains, a quick trip.” 

“You really think there’ll be a next visit?” 

“I do try to go there frequently,” he grinned. Fenrys had gotten along well with her cousin, who had visited Orynth once in the last few months. She refused to ask any questions about it. “We’ll make it before the next snow hits - the trip will be shorter, you’ll end up away for less time.” 

She groaned, leaning forward to press her head against the table. “I don’t know if it’ll work,” she mumbled. 

“I’ll make it work,” he promised her. “Let me do the talking this time. You and your family are alternating now, correct?” 

She’d forgotten about that. They’d talked about alternating who visits where for holidays, and she couldn’t make a promise - but they’d told her they’ll be in Orynth this coming yulemas. “We’re going to try to,” she muttered, still not moving her head. 

Fenrys rose, and she finally lifted her head. “I’ll take you back up, then i’m having a little chat with their majesties.” 

“Anything I can do to change your mind?” 

He gave her a forced grin and shook his head. 

-

Aelin lifted her head as the door opened, revealing both Fenrys and y/n. Immediately, she noticed the small spots of blood - one on the edge of her dress, one on Fenrys’s hand. The male sent her and Rowan a warning glance, shaking his head once. Y/n didn’t look at them as she headed right for the bathroom. Against all of her instincts, she didn’t follow. Not with the look Fenrys was pinning them with. She heard the tap running, starting a bath. 

“I need to show you something,” Fenrys muttered, jerking his head towards the door. They were both on edge as they followed him. He led them right down to her workshop, and turned his head slightly. “Don’t lose your shit.” He paused, hand on the doorknob. And blinked. She counted, five times. This is real. Her heart dropped to her stomach. What the hell happened? 

Glass. Broken glass covering the entire floor. And blood - y/n’s blood. 

“This is what I walked into.” He said quietly. “She’s like a sister to me, and I don’t know what you’re doing to her, but for fucks sake. Fix whatever the hell it is.” He met Rowan’s glare head on, but she could only stare at the room. 

Aelin swallowed harshly, and could only stare. Had he picked all of the glass out of her? Waited until she healed? Cleaned the wounds for her - like they were supposed to. Months, she’d spent months making all of those little glass balls, and only one remained. Decorated with the Lord of Terrasen, a flame between his antlers - green forest in the background. Yulemas decorations.  

“Why didn’t you bring her to us?” She could sense Rowan’s temper flaring. 

“She asked me not to.” He was leaning back against the wall, eyes still fixed on the glass. “But she managed to get out some of her rage. Anyway, I wouldn’t dare tell you what to do-” 

“Yes you would,” Rowan interrupted him, and Fenrys snorted - rolling his eyes. 

“But maybe consider getting your heads out of your asses. Don’t get me wrong - she’s no angel right now, but try and figure it out.” 

Aelin hissed at the small insult against her mate, and he let out an edged chuckle, before sweeping his gaze back over the room. There was still a haunted look in his eyes, and she knew exactly where he was taken back to. Rowan looked between the two of them, and left without another word. 

“Are you still banned from cleaning up in here?” Fenrys asked her after a few minutes. She huffed out a laugh, but nodded, and watched as he grabbed a broom - starting to sweep all of the glass into a pile. 

“Keep the glass,” she murmured quietly. He tilted his head at her. “She might want to make something else out of it.” He didn’t question her, and she stood as moral support. They talked about everything and nothing - carefully avoiding speaking of y/n. If Fenrys was her confidant, she wouldn’t push him for answers now, even if she desperately wanted to. The back of her head hit the wall as she looked up at the ceiling. If she wanted to know something, she’d ask her directly. 

-

Rowan came in silent, and she tensed - still in the bathtub. He stopped in the doorway. “That was stupid.” 

At least he didn’t mince his words. 

“It was therapeutic,” she countered. He didn’t reply, but his eyes scanned over her body, and she felt his magic reach out - checking for any kind of lingering injuries. 

“You spent months on those,” he finally said. “Why?” 

She leaned forward, pressing her cheek against her knees, arms tugging them close to her body. The water was already cold, and a small shiver went down her spine. “I don’t know. It’s all a blur.” 

He saw the goosebumps down her spine, and grabbed a towel before striding over towards her. He stopped a foot away as her body tensed. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised. 

His rough and calloused palm was warm against her skin, and she let him help her out of the bath. He started running the towel over her body, and she tried to snatch it from him. “I can do that myself.” 

He pinned her with a look, and continued, gesturing for her to turn around. She grumbled the entire way, but laughed as he gently swatted her ass. It felt so … normal, and she leant into that feeling, the moment, and didn’t let the events of the last few hours taint it. 

By the time Aelin came back, she was already in bed - half asleep, half sprawled on top of Rowan, his hand running soothing strokes up and down her back. Wordlessly, they’d agreed to table it until tomorrow. Until everyone had a clear head. 

She blinked her eyes open as the sheets rustled, Aelin slipping in beside her.

Aelin pressed a kiss against her forehead, murmuring “tomorrow,” before moving closer, caging her in between the two of them. 

-

She woke the next morning, wincing at the nausea in her stomach. There was a slight cramp in her legs as well. But .. she’d only had her cycle a week ago, she wasn’t due another one for six months. And, she took her tonics like clockwork. Carefully, she untangled Aelin’s arm from her waist, awkwardly climbing over her, and slid towards the edge of the bed. She’d planned on an early start, to re-stock after her little episode. 

Her feet hit the soft carpet, toes wiggling against it. Gods, she hated dragging herself out of bed in the morning, especially if the two of them were still sleeping next to her. Turning her head over her shoulder, she spotted half-lidded and wary green eyes watching her. She fought the urge to roll her own, he was watching at her like she might flee. Not entirely unreasonable, but he didn’t know that. 

As she stood, pain shot up her legs, ricocheting as her muscles seized. She let out a small yelp, before crumpling forwards, barely tucking her arms in time to avoid breaking her wrist. Rowan was there in an instant, Aelin a second or two behind him. He fell to his knees before her, carefully propping her up with one arm as his magic ran over her. His nostrils flared slightly. “You’re settling.” 

-

A shield of wind covered the room on instinct. 

Rowan saw her eyes widen, tears starting to fill them, the scent of her fear filling the room. Aelin had settled shortly before she met y/n, and it was a difficult process to say the least. It wouldn’t be his first time helping someone through it. He knew how dangerous it was. How vulnerable Fae were during it. She could lose control of her power, or lose her power entirely throughout the process. 

Meeting Aelin’s eyes, her expression mirrored his thoughts. If she thought they were overbearing before … he turned back to y/n. “It’ll be fine,” he assured her, stroking one hand through her hair. “You’re not alone.” 

Months of her body re-ordering its aging process and magic re-adjusting. If she lost her magic .. although he didn’t think she would, it would wreck some part of her. She relied on it for some of her crafts as well, a large portion of which she’d just destroyed. 

She’d already lost it for ten years. To get it back, and have it taken away again … he shoved the thoughts from his mind. If it came to that, they’d handle it. In the meantime - he’d do everything he could to prevent it. 

[mariaofdoranelle]

Lollapal-oops-a: part 1

Written for Rowaelin Month day 6 - Misunderstanding leading to disaster; @rowaelinscourt

Fic masterlist

Rowaelin Month 2024 masterlist

Hey guys!! I have three parts planned for this, all of them due this month <3

Warnings: none other than the prompt itself hehe

Words: 965

Aelin’s internship at Damaris Publishers had been a learning experience in many ways, but one she didn’t see coming is that, sometimes, you meet a scary-looking, highly muscled and tattooed IT guy, and the only bonding experience you’ll have with him is over the favorite drag queen you two have in common.

Or at least that was what got her rooted to the floor as she stared at the computer screen Rowan Whitethorn forgot to lock on his way to the break room. Five tabs open—two of some nerdy stuff she wouldn’t bother with, and three of Edna Thornie: her Vogue Get Ready With Me on YouTube, her special appearance at the Kinky Boots musical for the Doranelle tour, and another about her upcoming Lollapalooza show this weekend.

“Did he forget it again?” Fenrys asked on his way to her, palms rubbing with giddiness to prank his friend once again.

Aelin snorted. “Yep. Are we Ctrl+Alt+Arrowing him again?”

He made a show of stopping, both hands on his hips to think. “I dunno. Too basic, too predictable by now. Lemme think.”

She gave one last look at his screen—a giant picture of Edna Thornie in all her fake-titted glory, breastplate so big it could be a Z cup and unbelievably cunty go-go boots. Aelin really did love the drag queen’s artistry, but not on her office crush’s screen.

Not a crush, she had to correct herself for the first time, a few months after deciding he was too hot for his own good. Aelin had to get over it, and quick. One minute of silence to mourn the dick she’d never bounce on—because no straight man would watch Edna Thornie do her makeup routine on his own volition—then back to work.

She asked Fenrys, “Rowan, he’s a big fan of Edna Thornie, ain’t he?”

“Yep,” Fen said with a small smile. “If you look past that grumpy shell of his, you’ll find that he really loves her.”

That grumpy shell was what got her. One oat milk latte, and she wouldn’t be so confused to see a drag queen on his screen.

“And you don’t find it a little odd?” Aelin inquired while removing the batteries from his mouse. She was going to put a post-it with a winky face underneath it, a little mercy so he wouldn’t spend too long to find out why it isn’t working.

“Why would it be odd?”

“He doesn’t look the type, that’s all.” Aelin shrugged. “I never would’ve guessed.” She tried to conceal the disappointment in her face as much as possible, but it was hard to when she was one conversation away from asking him out.

Her friend unplugged one of the cables. Frowned at it. Took a moment to study Aelin’s expression, and it was a while before he said, “I think Edna’s come a long way as an artist, specially being part of a marginalized group, and I think it’s a good thing that Rowan is that supportive and proud of her.” He said with a finality that was odd for the lively man, Fenrys left no room for discussion. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes!” Aelin blurted, only now realized how shitty it was of her to comment on that. Just because she misplaced Rowan as straight, it didn’t give her the right to talk about him like that. It was no one’s business, and so out of line of her. “Yes, of course. I’m a fan too, I’m going to her show at Lollapalooza, it’s just… um. Nevermind.”

“Okay, then…” he trailed. “Now, how long do you think it’ll take for him to find out if I cover the end of this cable with tape.”

Aelin’s eyes widened, and she easily entertained him, happy to have the weird conversation over. “You evil genius!”

Fenrys grinned, and today’s prank was settled. She wondered if they would get more ruthless with Rowan now that she knew nothing romantic would happen, but Fenrys was pure evil either way, so things would hardly change.

Once the shenanigans were done, Aelin decided to refill her water bottle, only to find Rowan hunched over his half-eaten snack.

“Fancy some coffee?” he asked, then pointed at one of the two coffee cups in front of him.

She grinned. “That’s so sweet, thanks.”

No, not just grinned. Aelin had kind of melted on the spot. Chocolate hazelnut cappuccino from the overpriced cafeteria, no special occasion at all. Family aside, she wasn’t used to get this treatment from guys who didn’t want to get in her pants. Every time he was sweet and thoughtful to her, it was just about him being a good person and nothing about getting Aelin naked. What an unusual realization.

“How’s that…” Aelin squinted her eyes at his prepped lunchbox because Mala forbid Rowan eats a non-muscle-building meal like the common folk. “Kiwi?”

“Very… sweet?” He frowned at it. “Consumable? Functional. Very Thursday snack.”

Aelin tilted her head, endlessly amused by this man’s inability to eat exclusively for pleasure. “You eat fruit every Thursday? As in, a calendar?”

His eyes crinkled with a good kind of intrigue, or so it seemed. “You do know that meal planning is quite common, right? And doctors say it’s best to eat fruit everyday—not just on Thursdays.”

“That’s so very fruity of you to say!” The joke was out before her mind could filter it out.

He laughed. “Well, I do like to eat fruit.”

Aelin shook her head with a small grin. “I bet you do.”

She wanted to ask if he’d be at Edna Thornie’s show this weekend as well, since Aelin was going alone, but it’d would give away that she had just snooped into his computer—why ruin the prank this soon?

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[tomtenadia]

Rowaelin Month - day 7

Hi all, a bit late with this but inspiration did not until an hour ago.

It's a very short fic with a lot of fluff. Hopefully you will love it For some reason is very mostly in Rowan's POV.

@rowaelinscourt

THE LUCKY ONE

The room was chaos. Dresses and shoes lay scattered on the bed and floor as if a tornado has swept through the room. That natural disaster was called Aelin and Rowan stared at his wife planted in front of her dresser with a disgruntled expression.

“Fireheart, not to put you any pressure on you, but our taxi will be here in half an hour.”

Rowan was an architect and his firm had won the contract to rebuild the Opera house that had been destroyed ten months prior by a fire. 

That night the place was finally reopening and of course they had been invited. The venue would officially open to the public the following night, that evening was a high end affair with the high end of the society and famous people. 

He was not a big fan of black tie events. He was an introvert. His company had won the contract and then asked some of the best architects to design a new venue. His project had won by a landslide, he got a promotion and became project manager. It had been a dream but he would have been happy to stay in the background and watch people enjoy his vision.

But unfortunately he was meant to go on stage make a speech and cut the ribbon with the mayor.

Aelin, always the extrovert, had been delighted at the idea and of bragging with her friends of how famous her husband was.

But her next grunt made him realise that even Aelin at that point would have gladly stayed at home in sweatpants with their kids and a movie and a lot of ice cream.

Aelin was three months pregnant with their third child and had reached the stage where clothes had stopped fitting.

“ Can I just show up with one of your hockey jersey and sweatpants?”

Rowan walked closer to his wife and puller her to his chest. She was just in his underwear and his hand gently covered the small bump that has just started showing “Fireheart, you are stunning.”

“I am fat.”

A gentle kiss on the spot behind her neck “Get dressed and tonight I will show you how hot I think you are.”

Aelin turned, facing him “you are biased.”

“No, I love you.”

Five minutes later he had manged to help her in a stunning black dress that showed all the curves he loved so very much. He had not lied. She was stunning. Stretch marks and all. 

They were finishing getting ready when the door of their bedroom opened and their two children appeared and Rowan smiled. Maya, their seven years old daughter, was wearing her princess dress with tiara and all. But the best view was Thomas, their five year old son all dressed up with his sister’s princess clothes too. He had a pink fluffy dress with a puffy skirt, a few fake pearl necklaces, clip on earrings and a red hair wig that Maya had used for Halloween. While his sister was wearing a tiara he had a big crown that was too big for him.

“Dada, we are ready too!” Screamed Maya.

“Mama, dada, look! We pwetty!” Thomas added while showing his attire proudly. 

Aelin burst into tears and knelt in front of both of them “you are both stunning, I am sure auntie Lys will give you a wonderful party for tonight.

“No,” said Thomas “We go with mama and dada.”

Rowan sat down near his son “Tom, you and Maya will have to stay with auntie Lys and uncle Aedion tonight. It’s grown up boring party,” explained Rowan who, all of a sudden would have preferred to attend the party his kids had in mind.

“But we dressed up,” protested Maya.

“I know my love,” added Aelin grabbing their kids hands then she looked at Rowan “what about you and Tom plan a party for tomorrow? Dad and I will dress up with you both.”

All of a sudden the kid’s smile grew “can I keep crown?” Asked Thomas timidly.

Rowan hugged his son “anything.”

The two screamed in joy and ran out of the door.

Rowan helped Aelin to stand up and she melted against his chest “Their party sounds much better.”

“I know, Fireheart. Tomorrow.”

“Can I be your queen for a day?”

His mouth met hers “you have been my queen every day since I met you.”

*

The following day the Whitethorn-Galathynius’ household was transformed in a fantasy wonderland. Aelin had transformed in queen and had sat all day on the armchair that Rowan had converted in a throne. He had dressed up as knight and both kids had put up a fashion show. Maya’s room had exploded and all her clothes had been everywhere while she had her brother paraded in front of their parents. It had been the perfect day. Rowan had even let Aelin and Thomas paint his nails while Thomas tried to braid his hair. 

Yes, the event the previous night had been the celebration of a career.

But this, with his family around him, was the only goal he really cared about. 

He stood and grabbed Thomas in his arms, "come on, let’s go and make mama and sis tea and biscuits."

And with his son still dressed like a fairy in his arms he waltzed to the kitchen thinking that he was the luckiest man in Terrasen. 

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[shyvioletcat]

~ Rowaelin Month Day 15: What if…? ~

*cracks fingers* Alright. Let’s cause some trouble. An alternate end to Heir of Fire if you will. Italics at the start come from the book.

@rowaelinscourt

~~~~~

“I do. Until my last breath, and the world beyond. To whatever end.”

She would have paused then, asked him again if he really wanted to do this, but Maeve was still there, a shadow lurking behind them. That was why he had done it now, here—so Celaena could not object, could not try to talk him out of it.

It was such a Rowan thing to do, so pigheaded, that she could only grin as she drew the dagger across her wrist, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. She offered her arm to him.

With surprising gentleness, he took her wrist in his hands and lowered his mouth to her skin.

For a heartbeat, something lightning-bright snapped through her and then settled—a thread binding them, tighter and tighter with each pull Rowan took of her blood. Three mouthfuls—his canines pricking against her skin—and then he lifted his head, his lips shining with her blood, his eyes glittering and alive and full of steel.

There were no words to do justice to what passed between them in that moment…

~~~~~

“Quite a performance you’ve put on, Aelin,” Maeve drawled. There was something unsettling in her tone, something that had Celaena on edge. She had won this round against Maeve, outwitted and outplayed, leaving with everything that she wanted and could take. So why then was the Queen of fae so smug as she turned towards her throne, dark dress splaying elegantly as she sat down. “You’ve threatened to turn my people to ash, you’ve taken a member of my court, but you are still a child. Young to this world and the secrets it holds. You have your fire, but there are other powers you have yet to contend with.”

Rowan stepped closer, not in comfort but preparing to fight. Celeana was his to protect now and she did not doubt that he would put himself in harm's way to defend her. The slightest hint of threat from the Queen and he would use his body to protect Celaena first, then whatever else he could get his hands on.

“I have something for you, Rowan,” Maeve said, a spider’s smile on her lips. “A parting gift.”

“I want nothing,” Rowan said, his voice strong but breathless. The injuries inflicted by the twins were still unattended and would be incredibly painful no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

“Oh, I think you will want this,” Maeve said. Without turning to the other males in the room she commanded, “Leave us.”

The five of them did, silent and without expression as they obeyed. Without her cadre Maeve was no less of a threat, both Celaena and Rowan stood at the ready, waiting for whatever she decided to strike with next. Maeve stood and there was a silent demand to follow.

Do we? Aelin asked, glancing up at Rowan.

Her blood was still on his lips, the sight of it almost disappearing as he contemplated. I’m unsure.

But you want to.

Rowan nodded once. I’m curious to see what it is.

That was all the answer that Celaena needed. She took Rowan’s hand and followed after Maeve who had kept walking, knowing they would come. After a while Maeve led them to a door, behind it a narrow hallway and staircase that went down. Their footsteps echoed on the stone steps, none of them speaking. Behind her Rowan’s breaths turned ragged and Celaena wished that she could take the time to heal him.

They came to another door, made of wood and looked ancient. Maeve laid her palm on it, murmuring soft words that were followed by a ripple of power. The door opened and beyond was a room, the darkness inside pitch black. Still holding onto Rowan, Celaena held up her other hand, flames blazing. Not deterred by the dark, Maeve stepped into the room, disappearing from sight. Looking to Rowan one more time for confirmation, hand in hand, they entered the dark together.

At first even with her fae sight Celaena couldn’t see anything. It took a few moments to adjust to the shadows that seemed to fight against her fire. And then in the centre of the room something glimmered. A silver surface reflected the flames. From what Celeana could garner from the outline she could see, the object was rectangular and about the length of a body. Her gut sunk as she realised what it was: a coffin. She threw her flames wide, illuminating the entire room. Something was very wrong, Celaena could feel it.

“Thank you niece,” Maeve said, voice echoing in the domed room. “It has been centuries since they last saw light.”

Celeana’s sight adjusted again, and she couldn't decipher much besides the fact that whatever it was on the dais was made of glass. Letting go of her hand Rowan stepped around her to get closer and between her and the potential threat. The sight of his ravaged back had bile rising in Celeana’s throat and her flames burning brighter as her anger flared. She’d kill Maeve for that— and all her other sins.

Then Rowan stumbled, but not from pain. He seemed to be caught between lunging forward and reeling back. “How?”

“Fae children are precious, even to me,” Maeve said.

Celaena doubted anything was sacred to Maeve, but the words had made her curious. It took three steps to get to Rowan’s side and she was able to see through the glass. He was utterly still, staring at what was in front of them, an unreadable expression on his face. Celaena followed that gaze to see what Maeve had deigned to gift the Prince.

Oh gods.

The coffin was made up of panes of glass, each piece joined with ornate streams of silver. The beauty of it was startling, a work of art, but what held Celaena’s unwavering interest was what was inside. Of who was inside.

There was a fae female, her brown hair splayed out on the pillow beneath her head. She looked as though she was asleep, dressed in a white flowing gown embroidered with flowers made from an iridescent thread. The female didn’t hold Celaena’s attention for long, because there, tucked into the crook of the female’s arm was an infant. The child was small, tiny hands tucked under their chin. They too looked as though they were asleep, peaceful and frozen in time.

Celeana watched for signs of life. Both figures were unmoving, eyes closed and still. All her focus went into searching for something—anything—that would prove they were alive. The hold Rowan had on himself broke and he lunged forward, his hand splaying on the glass, residue of blood tarnishing the glass. He was watching with the same intensity Celaena was, even more so. Maeve’s soft venomous laughter echoed through the room, filling it. Only she could be amused by something as cruel as this.

Then there it was. The thump of two heartbeats, perfectly in sync, slow and quiet. The temperature plummeted and Rowan’s entire body shuddered in relief and he fell to his knees.

Celaena didn’t need to be told who lay in the coffin. This was Lyria Whitethorn, Rowan’s mate, who’s tragic story was inked into his skin. And the child was theirs and she wondered if they would be blessed with the Whitetorn silver hair. Celaena tried to process what she was seeing, what this would mean for her and Rowan and their journey forward. An agonised sob torn through the quiet of the room as snowflakes glittered in the air. At that sound, Celeana found that her heart was broken too.

“A reward for all your years of dedicated service, Rowan,” Maeve said, coming to stand on the opposite side of the coffin. “Your family.”

~~~~~

……. Yes I felt like breaking hearts

[goddess-aelin]

Little Falcon

For day 22 of Rowaelin Month: Magic/Shifting lessons with the kids

@rowaelinscourt

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Word count: 1k

Warnings: none!

Aelin was going to kill him, she truly was. She usually was a forgiving soul, one of the kindest people he knew despite her penchant for violence and general mischief. But for this, she would kill him.

Because he committed probably the worst act he could have ever committed. Worse than killing a man. Worse than forgetting Aelin’s birthday. Worse than eating his wife’s chocolate hazelnut cake. No, Rowan lost their daughter. Alma was almost four years old, her blonde, shining hair always a beacon and her quiet, yet temperamental disposition a mirror of her mother’s. It seemed that she had also inherited her mother’s ability to sneak around. Because she wasn’t here. She wasn’t anywhere.

He’d been searching the castle for almost an hour, hoping to find the little trickster before Aelin was done with her meeting. He began in Alma’s room, hoping that her golden hair would be sticking out from her covers or her tiny toes from under her bed. No such luck was found. He made his way around the royal family’s wing of the castle with the same circumstances. He quietly asked the staff members if they had seen her, all to a resounding “no” and a look of disapproval that he lost Alma.

He was about to shift into hawk form to do a fly-by of the castle grounds but before he could, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs to their wing. Alma. Relieved, he rounded the corner, shouting her name and about to give the little girl a stern talking to when he stopped in his tracks. Aelin was standing in front of him, one brow raised and a knowing look on her face.

“Why were you calling Alma’s name?”

Rowan let out a nervous chuckle. “Well, you see…” He knew Aelin could probably see the sweat beading on his forehead. “Alma and I, we were….we were playing hide and seek! Yeah. And she’s just so good at hiding that I can’t find her.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, Buzzard. Just tell me you lost our daughter so we can go find her.”

He deflated at that. “Fine. I lost our daughter. Happy now?”

“Not particularly, no.” Aelin sighed. “I was gone for less than two hours, Rowan. How did this happen?”

“Errin needed to be changed so I stepped out of her room for a minute. A single minute, Aelin. And the next thing I knew, she was gone.” Panic laced his voice and he knew that he was about five seconds from completely losing his shit. It was a miracle he had kept it together this long, to be quite honest.

“I put Errin in his crib for a nap–don’t worry, one of the nursemaids is in there with him–and I came back and she was just gone. I didn’t even hear her little feet scamper by or anything. I don’t understand it.” Tears were finally forming in his eyes as the realization that he lost their daughter set in.

Slender arms wrapped around his middle, embracing him tightly. “It’s okay, Buzzard. We’ll find her, okay? We’ll look together and we’ll find her.” Even if Aelin was putting on a brave front, he knew she was probably panicking as much as he was. “Besides, she has the bravery of both of her parents so I’m sure she’s totally fine.” Aelin gave him a small smile and pulled him by the hand toward her room.

Gradually, they overturned every cushion, ripped every blanket from her bed, and opened everyy door and drawer but still no Alma. Rowan tugged on his hair, hoping to relieve some of the tension that was building in the pit of his stomach again. Aelin was slowly putting everything back to where it was so he figured he’d go and make another round of their bedroom.

Aelin’s voice halted him about halfway down the hall. “Uh, hey, Buzzard?”

He doesn’t think he ever ran so fast in his life. With panicked eyes, he burst into the room like a tornado. Aelin was standing calmly in the center of the room, looking up at the small curtain rod that hung over Alma’s bed.

“Look there,” she pointed toward the ceiling where a small bird was perched on the curtain rod. A suspiciously golden-looking falcon stared back at him and chirped. The tiny falcon flapped its wings, getting enough air to rise up from its perch and glide down to land on Rowan’s shoulder.

Aelin’s voice was breathless when she spoke, “Is that–”

Rowan nodded. “I think it is.” Rowan brought a single finger up to gently pet the bird’s head, it’s color too close to Alma’s blonde waves for it to be a coincidence.

As his finger stopped its motion, a bright light flashed and then there was a familiar weight in his arms. He was shocked into silence as he beheld Alma sitting in his arms, smiling.

“I was hidin’ Daddy!”

Slowly, so as not to startle her, Rowan brought her into the tightest embrace he could manage without crushing her little bones. “I can see that,” he choked out. When he looked up at Aelin, she had a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She gave him a look that seemed to say, Well, shit.

“Alma, how long have you been able to do that? Turn into a bird?”

“I not just any bird, Daddy! I’s a falcon! Uncle Fen said so!”

“Uncle Fen knew about this?” Alma nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! He said I should sup’rise you.”

Rowan smiled tightly at his daughter. “Consider me surprised, little falcon.”

His daughter put her tiny hands over her mouth and giggled. The sight made his cold heart melt. But quickly, the severity of the situation overtook him.

“You have to let me know when you’re going to shift, okay? I want to teach you how to fly safely so you don’t hurt yourself.”

“Daddy, you’re bein’ a Buzzard. Jus’ like Mommy always says.”

Rowan’s mouth hung open. Aelin’s cackle could be heard throughout the castle as she doubled over in hysterics.

Eventually, Aelin’s laughter died down and she met his eyes through her tears. I’ll get you back for that, Fireheart.

Mmhm, sure. Not before you murder Fenrys though, right?

Rowan gave a curt nod and pulled his giggling little falcon back into his arms. She placed a tiny hand over the tattoo on his face.

“Daddy, I can’t wait to fly with you! It’s gonna be so much fun.” And with that, she snuggled into his arms once more.

Maybe murdering Fenrys could wait a few more minutes.

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this one and I was squealing from cuteness while doing so 🥹

Tagging:

@cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @wellofnothing @ayaashryver @moonknight-spector @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @heirofflowers @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee @books4eva04 @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @backtobl4ck @dreamer-133 @elentiyawhitethorn @writtenonreceipts @shyvioletcat @aelinchocolatelover @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @athena127 @tothestarsandwhateverend @highqueenofelfhame

[highqueenofelfhame]

i don't know who i think i am updating so many times this week, but here we are. enjoy it while it lasts, kiddos. and happiest of birthdays to @shyvioletcat who is the reason i even wrote this fic in the first place. love u bb 💚

rowaelin // 7k words // masterlist

The pillow beside him still smelled faintly of her perfume, yet when he reached for the warm body that should have been next to him, he found nothing but cool, rumpled sheets. Rowan let out a low groan of disappointment and rolled halfway off the bed to feel for his jeans. When he finally found his phone in the back pocket and checked the time he knew she hadn’t been gone for too long. It was only six-thirty in the morning, and he was almost positive she had been pressed against him the majority of the night. 

Gods, last night. Rowan hadn’t had sex in months, and the woman Connall had pushed toward him like an offering had been his perfect match. Everything he gave her, she had given back. She took as much as he did, and he couldn’t help himself when he sent her tumbling over the edge until she was a shaking, sweaty mess. It was, by far, the sexiest thing he had ever seen. The sounds of her breathy moans, the feeling of her cherry red nails dragging sharply up his back and over his shoulder blades, or of the way she’d pressed her fingertips into his lower back to urge him closer… Those were things he would not soon forget. He was pretty sure if he looked in the mirror, he would have the reminder of her hands etched on his skin until at least tomorrow. 

He was desperate to do it all over again with her.

It took him a moment, but he managed to find another pair of sweatpants and an old college t-shirt in the back of the closet. As the door leading to the apartment closed behind him, a heavy sigh sank from his chest. Connall had a smirk that said he knew way more than he should. The bastard. He spent so many late nights at the bar, it wouldn’t surprise Rowan if he had been there all night and heard every sound he pulled from Aelin’s soft, perfect lips. 

“Terrasen won last night.” Connall was standing in the doorway that led to the kitchen, drying a clean glass as he took in his friend. 

“I know,” Rowan grumbled, adjusting his clothes from the night before in his hands. Several of his missed text-messages had been about their victory. Apparently, it had been a close game that went into overtime. But it seemed that Orynth grew football players in the mountains, fertilizing them with the gods only knew what. 

Through the window the sky was already full of fluffy white clouds. It made it hard to be too glum. Soon the sun would be shining brightly over Varese. It was a new day, Monday was a new week, and there was still time for someone to knock Terrasen out of the winning streak that had been going on for the last two years before Rowan had to face them in a few months.

“Your girl left about an hour ago, if you were wondering.” He was, but instead of saying so he just grunted a response and headed out the door. 

The following week was his normal routine. Rowan returned to Doranelle after spending the rare off-weekend down in Varese. More than once he had tried to pry details from Connall about if Aelin had been back to the bar or not. Apparently she hadn’t, but his friend swore to let him know if she did. It had been five days and she hadn’t been seen. Was it pathetic the way he wished he had a way to contact her? Definitely. But there was something about her that he couldn’t shake, that he refused to let fade into the recesses of his mind. 

On the sixth day since meeting her, not that he was counting, he’d carried his laundry hamper downstairs to throw in the wash. Out of habit, he patted down the pockets of all his pants. Rowan had learned the hard way a few years ago that not doing so resulted in very expensive headphones being ruined in the wash. Could he afford another pair? Of course he could, but it was a waste of money when he could simply not wash them and not have to spend two hundred dollars for no reason.

There was a soft crinkling in the pocket of his jeans, one that he barely noticed. They were already halfway into the washer when Rowan fished out the folded piece of paper. Merely a receipt from any of the establishments he visited last weekend, he tossed it on top of the dryer while he finished loading the rest of the clothes and tossed in the detergent. He swiped it up again to throw away on his way out. For reasons unbeknownst to him, he decided to look at it before trashing it. Just to make sure it wasn’t from anything he might need to return later. 

When he unfolded it and saw the  writing over the top of a faded credit card transaction, his heart stopped beating. It wasn’t a receipt. Well, it was, but nothing that he had purchased. It was a note written in blue pen, words a little smudged from being folded up before the ink had fully dried. Each letter was in swooping, sloping, cursive letters with a little heart underneath. 

Just in case you need to release some more tension. I know I do. - A

The short message was followed by a series of numbers, and Rowan had never in his entire life scrambled so hard to put a contact into his phone. A tattooed finger traced over the numbers, lips mouthing the numbers in an attempt to double check himself. Without giving himself a single heartbeat to change his mind or chicken out, he pressed call. 

By now she could have forgotten about him entirely. Maybe she wasn’t interested anymore, or perhaps it had taken him too long to reach out. He did have a good reason for the latter, but she might not see it that way. There was hope that she would, though. Everything about her had seemed easy going and he doubted she would be mad that she sent him on a scavenger hunt with no directions. Maybe if he wore normal clothes instead of athletic shorts or sweats more often he would have found it sooner. It was too late to change that now, though. Impatient fingers drummed atop the counter while it rang, and rang, and rang.

Her voice chirped through the speaker, but when he opened his mouth to speak he realized it was just the recording of her voicemail. Her accent, so different from his but lovely all the same said in a teasing tone, “While it is your absolute utmost misfortune to have missed me, leave a message and I’ll call you back. Unless it’s about work. Call my work phone and we’ll talk about it.” 

 Rowan had never wished so badly to have someone’s business line in his life, but he still patiently waited for the beep. His heart was a stampede of wild horses while he waited for the beep. As soon as it sounded, he cleared his throat and immediately grimaced at himself. Idiot. Why didn’t he do that before it started recording?

“Aelin, it’s Rowan. I’m sorry it took me so long to call, but someone hid her phone number in the back pocket of my jeans and I just got around to doing laundry. I’m not in Varese this week, I’m actually in Doranelle for work. But I should be back in town soon, maybe next week, I–” The voicemail beeped, declaring the message was fully recorded and he swore colorfully as he ended the call. 

With a mind of their own, his fingers opened a new text thread and shot off a message: My voicemail got cut off, but I’d love to see you again. Let me know if you’re up for it. xx  

After pressing send, he cringed. Since when did he sign off a text message with an x? Much less two of them? He’d spent one night with the woman and now he could barely figure out which way was up and which was down. 

 Sure, he had been out of the dating game for quite some time, but he didn’t have to sound like he was. The last time he flirted intentionally had been years ago. Every other encounter had been random hookups in random cities across the world where he didn’t have to worry about following up.

Except that this time, he wanted to. There had been so much ease when he talked to her, the flirting had come naturally. It hadn’t even been wholly intentional to begin with. Rowan had never used talking about soccer as a seduction technique, but it had clearly worked on her somehow. The banter they’d shared back and forth displayed a unique type of chemistry he hadn’t experienced in a long time, if ever. He could only hope that she felt the same way and still wanted to do it all over again, too.

~*~

“I really like everything you have here, but–”

“It’s not great,” Luca interrupted, his shoulders sagging while he waited for the sharp edge of disappointment. Aelin’s lips pursed as she looked at the young man. Luca was fresh out of college as a graphic designer, and working for the Fireheart Art Foundation was his first real world job post-graduation. It made her simultaneously want to berate the insecurity out of him and comfort him by how traumatized he was from difficult professors in college. 

“I was just going to say that I want this header font to be white.” She gave him a look that portrayed exactly how she felt about how hard he tended to be on himself. “I wouldn’t have hired you to work in this office if I thought you needed to be micromanaged.” 

Luca let out a breath, nodding and sinking into one of the chairs across from her desk. Nervous hands ran up and down his thighs like he was shaking out the nerves. She understood. The feeling of mountains of pressure on you and like you had no room for error was a familiar one. Helas below, she felt like that right now. Aelin was in her mid-twenties and running a charity and she refused to let it fail. 

“I just want to do a good job.”

“And you are, my friend. I chose you and your portfolio of work out of a lineup of seasoned professionals. You bring something new, young, and fresh to the table. Your lack of experience doesn’t mean that you’re incapable of doing a good job. It just means that you’re still learning, and I want to help you with that. You don’t need to be nervous to show me something that you’ve created. If something needs to be tweaked, obviously I’m going to tell you. But you understand the brand I’m building and the image I’m putting out almost as well as I do. Be more kind to yourself,” she said gently, a soft smile pulling at her lips. 

“You are nothing like what my professors said future bosses would be like.” Aelin laughed at the same time her personal phone started buzzing on her desk. She didn’t recognize the number and it was silenced as she handed the tablet back over to Luca. 

“I sure hope not. While I have a specific vision of things, I want you to use your creativity and have fun with it. I’m never going to give you a list of a hundred specifications. I’ll tell you what needs to be included and let you take your knowledge of our company plus your creativity so you create something you’re proud of. When you eventually move on from Fireheart, I don’t want you to have a stack of things you made for us that you aren’t proud of to show off. Okay?” Aelin’s phone pinged with a new voicemail from whoever had been calling and sighed. “Email me the file after you change the header.”

Luca gave a mock salute and flipped the tablet case closed, walking toward the door and shutting it behind him. Aelin let out a content sigh in the silence, leaning her head against the back of her hair while she gazed out the window at the city below her. She let it sink in, the work she was beginning in a new country on a different continent, an ocean away from home. 

It was easy to allow herself to feel pride in the foundation, an idea she brought to her parents a few years ago. The Fireheart Foundation began three years ago when she was twenty-two. What started as an idea to work with local underprivileged youth in Orynth soon blossomed into two, then three, then four offices scattered over Terrasen. Her home country had always taken huge pride in the arts– Orynth itself was huge on the importance of it for its young citizens. The rest of the world shared those sentiments because by its second year they were receiving global recognition. Now, on the eve of its third birthday, Aelin was expanding to Wendlyn: her mother’s home country. 

She had plenty of family in Varese. Most of Evalin’s family still lived here, Aelin’s grandparents included. Ever the proud grandfather, Ciaran Ashryver had been beyond excited to help her find an apartment until the end of November, locate appropriate office space, and had started putting out a few feelers for potential employees almost as soon as she mentioned the idea. By the time she stepped off her plane, she was all set with somewhere to live and a floor in a building downtown to begin working. 

A handful of employees from the other locations in Terrasen had arrived this morning to be hands on in helping train some of the Varese staff. New members to this office were taking positions that needed little actual training and something more like direct guidance from Aelin. Like Luca and his graphic design. He didn’t need to be trained how to do his job, just needed the push to grow into his full potential. 

Aelin’s thoughts were tugged back to reality when another small vibration from her phone had her reaching for it. Ah, right. The missed call, voicemail, and now text message from the number she didn’t know. It was a local area code– probably a new employee getting her their contact information like she’d requested. 

As soon as she saw the message preview, though, she was quick to unlock the screen. With arms braced on her desk, she scanned the message with a growing smile on her face. Rowan. He had finally found the note, it seemed. No time was wasted in saving his number to her contacts and tapping furiously to get to the voicemail. 

When Rowan was cut off mid-sentence, she laughed out loud. It was really more of a school girl’s giggle than anything, relief that he had not just texted, but called, too. It made warmth flood from her toes to her fingertips. There had just been something about him, about their matching wit and seductive teasing that left her craving more. For the first time in an extremely long time, it hadn’t felt like it was just about sex. Despite how she had kept everyone at arm’s length and refused to let them get close since her relationship with Sam had ended so poorly, things with Rowan had been different since the moment he sat beside her at that bar. It didn’t mean it would go anywhere besides a fun fling, but a kernel of hope still flickered in her chest.

She tried to think about what Lysandra would tell her to do: how long she should wait to text him back, what the rules were. It had already been nearly a week, though. Hadn’t there been enough waiting on both parts? His voicemail had sounded rushed enough that it was like he was impatient to talk to her again, too. The follow up text practically proved it. No, she wouldn’t follow silly hard-to-get dating rules. Maybe she didn’t want to be hard to get. Besides, she was only here for a few more months. It likely wouldn’t lead to anything serious, and there was no harm in having fun while she was here.

That is what Lys would want for her. Something fun and easy that she didn’t have to think too much about. That would give her release from the insanity of running an international foundation with little outside help. Having made up her mind, she tapped his contact and hit the call button. 

“Aelin?” Her name was breathless on his tongue when he picked up after the third ring. With a brow furrowed in curiosity and a small smile resting on her lips, she leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to ignore the somersault her stomach lurched into when he said her name.

“Rowan,” Aelin drawled, entirely positive that he sighed with what sounded like relief. “Did I catch you at a bad time? You sound–”

“No, I was just– no. This is good. Perfect time, actually.”

“Are you sure?” She heard rustling on the other end, like maybe he was adjusting himself where he sat. 

“Is it embarrassing and off-putting if I tell you I lunged for my phone when I heard it ringing? I was in my bedroom and jumped onto the couch to get it before it stopped.” 

“What if it hadn’t been me calling back? Did you even check the caller ID?” The laughter that bubbled out of her was entirely involuntary. Having a man that excited to talk to her was so sweet it made her teeth ache. When had anyone ever been so forthcoming with any level of affection for her? Dorian, probably, but that was a relationship based solely on fun and most of the time he was teasing.

“No,” he grumbled. “I would have disconnected the call as soon as I got a denial it wasn’t you.” 

“That is the most adorable thing a man has ever said to me,” she vowed, her hand resting on her stomach to calm the swarm of butterflies within. 

“I’m not doing an absolute shite job, then?” There was a timidness to his voice that made her heart squeeze. What on earth did he have to be nervous about? 

“I called you back, didn’t I?” She teased, but when he didn’t answer and seemed to be waiting for a genuine response, she assured him that he was doing absolutely perfect. 

~*~

“Who the fuck has you smiling, Whitethorn?” Lorcan Salvaterre whipped his towel out to smack Rowan directly in the stomach. He immediately frowned, locked his phone, and rubbed the spot above his belly button the corner of the towel had popped. Lorcan tossed the weapon over his shoulder, sitting down on the bench in front of his cubby. The wet, dark curtain of hair hung around his face as he bent down to start shoving his match gear into the bag at his feet.

“Nobody.”

“That’s a lie,” Fenrys quipped from behind them. Rowan glared over his shoulder, knowing full well that the blonde was in complete cahoots with his twin brother. Evidently Connall had told him everything. How Fen had managed to keep his mouth shut about it all week was entirely beyond him. If it hadn’t been about his personal life, Rowan might have been impressed with his self control. “He met a girl.”

Lorcan’s head swung around, eyebrows raised high as he said, “Did we not learn our lesson from the last jersey chaser?” 

With a scowl pulling his entire face into a frown, Rowan shook his head. “It’s not like that. She doesn’t even know who I am. To be entirely honest, I don’t think she would have talked to me if I hadn’t saved her from one of Con’s mystery cocktails.”

At that, Lorcan winced. Just like he’d told Aelin, they were all too familiar with those special drinks. It didn’t matter how impressive one’s alcohol tolerance was, no one was safe. Rowan distinctly remembered a time several years back when he had to tie Lorcan’s black hair out of his face to avoid it getting in the toilet. Everyone was pretty sure he had alcohol poisoning that night, but it wasn’t totally Connall’s fault, either. Lorcan had said he could handle it. The joke was on him at the end of the night, though. Nobody could handle them as delicious as they might be. Those fuckers were dangerous. 

“Met her at the pub then?” Lorcan’s eyes were full of hesitancy and skepticism as he spoke. It seemed like he was choosing his words carefully. That topic was a tedious tightrope to walk, one that had ended in Rowan shutting down completely more than once. 

“She gave me a lot of shit about ‘soccer.’ We talked through most of the Orynth and Red Desert game.”

“And then Rowan took her upstairs and–” A sweaty pair of shorts hit Fenrys directly in the face, cutting him off with a violent gag. Always the drama king. “I just showered.”

“That’s enough out of you, boyo,” Rowan said in a tone that meant shut up or it will be my fist next time.  A few of their other teammates filtered from the showers, several of them claiming they needed full body massages STAT. Rowan was inclined to agree, but he had better things to do tonight. They had won their match against Adarlan and he was feeling lucky all around.

“You’re not… worried?” Lorcan was pulling on a fresh pair of socks as Rowan sat on the bench beside him, jaw tight. This was not something he wanted to think about right now. Aelin gave no indications that she knew who he was, and most of the girls that fawned after them for being professional athletes couldn’t make it through a whole conversation without expressing what huge fans they were. As if their obsession with his body would make him more likely to sleep with them. It was a trick that worked when he was young and stupid, but now that he was older it was just… violating. 

No, he wasn’t skeptical. It had been two weeks and soccer had only come up in the form of jokes between conversations that ranged from casual to toeing the deep-and-personal line. Their texts were as constant through the day as they could be with them both working. At night when they were both available and Rowan wasn’t completely wiped out from practice, they would have hours-long phone calls. Last night Aelin had fallen asleep mid-sentence, like she couldn’t stand to say goodnight to him even though she needed to sleep. When he realized she had dozed off, nothing but the soft huffs of her breathing coming through his speaker, he’d quietly wished sweet dreams upon her before hanging up.

Her apologies had been profuse throughout the day, but they weren’t needed. It had been a long while since anyone had taken the time to get to know him for him and not one of the world’s best center-forwards. With her, he was just Rowan. No grass-stained jerseys and golden trophies attached. Just the version of himself that he was over ninety percent of the time. 

“I’m not worried about that with her. She’s not… like that. I’m going to tell her what I do soon,  but for now she thinks I coach at the high school.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He and Lorcan did put on football camps at their old high school in Doranelle over the summer. Tirelessly, they would host two separate camps that lasted for two weeks in June and July. It was part of his job… just not his actual job right this second.

“What does she do?” Fenrys asked, shooting Rowan’s dirty shorts back over to him. He dropped them into his bag and zipped it up, slipping his feet into his slides. Vaughan came out of the showers then, bumping his fist as he passed and muttering that Rowan played well, to which he gave his friend a nod in return. 

“Charity work. She teaches piano and dance class at different art programs. For the next few months she’s doing after school lessons in Varese.” Rowan hefted the duffel up onto his shoulder, wincing as he stood. Nothing was hurt, but he wasn’t quite as young as he used to be. While he should probably spend some time in an ice bath to help his muscles recover, it was honestly the last thing on his mind. All he could think about was getting in his car and speeding down the highway to Varese.

“Please tell me you’re not about to get in your car and drive two hours to see a girl you just met immediately after a game,” Lorcan said flatly. Try as he might, it was impossible not to grin. Just a little. 

“Hate to disappoint you. Maybe you’ll understand one day when you stop being such a coldhearted dick.” It was a joke, but there was some truth to it. Lorcan had a strict policy about women during game season, and kind of in general. There would be absolutely no distractions for him during the season. He might let off some steam and have random hookups here and there, but the possibility of any sort of real relationship was off the table. During the off-season, he claimed it was time to have fun. Everyone was thoroughly convinced he would never settle down, or that it would take an absolute badass of a woman to turn him into a house-broken man. Rowan wasn’t sure that was possible. 

Lorcan grumbled mostly to himself while the rest of their lingering teammates gave Rowan encouraging slaps on the back. While he hated that it was out to his teammates and friends already, he knew it was genuine support. A few years ago he had been through absolute hell and ever since there had been a stormy cloud hovering over his head because of it.  Rowan knew Lorcan came from a good place. Everything with Lyria had ended… extremely poorly. Things with Aelin wouldn’t be like that, though. This was different. She was different. 

It had been two and a half weeks  since the first night, and their budding relationship had been strictly through text messages, phone calls, and the occasional video chat. Rowan hadn’t been able to get back to Varese because of practice, games, and her work schedule. The one night he would have been able to make it into the city, she had called him an hour before he was due to head out and explained that something came up at work that she had to deal with. It had been disappointing, but he understood. If they had lost their game today he wasn’t so sure he would be driving anywhere but home to sulk. 

With a shiny new win under his belt, he was eager as he snapped his seatbelt into place and began the two hour drive up to Verese. It would be after ten by the time he finally got there, but Aelin had insisted– was still assuring him– that it was entirely okay. Evidently she would have dinner ready for them when he arrived. His growling stomach could hardly wait. 

~*~

Rowan’s muscles throbbed dully when he pulled himself from his car a couple hours later. Thankfully he would have the rest of the night and all day tomorrow to recover before practice. He made a mental note to head in early for a little physical therapy on Monday morning.

The plan was that they would hang out for a little while before Rowan headed to his apartment in the city. While he lived primarily in Doranelle, he liked that he could be a little more low-key in Varese most of the time. It had become his second home, and a few years ago it made sense to get an apartment nearby to avoid having to crash in Connall or Fenrys’s guest room every time he was in town. Tomorrow, Rowan had vowed to show Aelin his favorite spots downtown and a few that he just had an inkling she would like. 

Based on their conversations, Aelin had quite the sweet tooth. There was a bakery on 4th avenue that was more than capable of satisfying her cravings. Less than a five minute walk from her office was his favorite coffee shop, and the heart of the city was stuffed to the brim of delicious restaurants and alluring confectionary shops she would love. The weather tomorrow would be absolutely beautiful– the perfect day to stroll downtown before the beginning of another hectic week for Rowan. For her, too, it seemed because she had days where she felt like she was putting out little fires everywhere. 

Double checking the apartment floor and number Aelin had sent over earlier that afternoon, Rowan began his climb up the stairs. It was an older building with the elevator apparently in a constant out-of-order state since she had moved in. She had both complained and apologized about it in advance, but Rowan was used to running up and down the stands during practice that it didn’t really matter.

Despite being a century old, the building had character and hadn’t slipped from its former glory. The floors were black and white marble, the wood of the staircase a deep mahogany. Gold accents were littered throughout in vases, frames, and wall sconces. Just inside the front door a glittering chandelier reflected small rainbows along the walls and floor through the crystals that dangled from its arms. Even if Rowan hadn’t known its historic significance, it was easy to imagine how it looked just after it opened. It was still a luxury apartment building, regardless of age.

His thighs ached with the ascent, feeling every stride he had taken on the field a few hours ago. Thankfully he only had to get to the second floor and a few doors down according to Aelin. Gods, he was exhausted. There was little time in a match when Rowan wasn’t on the field and throwing his all into every step he took, every kick that sent the ball flying into the goal with ease. After most games he would soak in an ice bath or get stretched out by one of the trainers, but he’d been entirely too eager to get to Varese to waste any time. Tomorrow he might regret it a little, but he would have regretted not making the drive even more.

It wasn’t until he was standing in front of her door that he started to have a small, momentary bout of  panic. How was he supposed to greet her? Did he hug her? Kiss her? They hadn’t discussed it, but then again who plans out a greeting? Rowan wanted to bang his head against the door at the knots this woman twisted his stomach into. He was being ridiculous. Rowan Whitethorn was a thirty-one year old grown man, for wyrd’s sake. Surely he could handle not fucking up as soon as she opened the door. 

As it turned out, he didn’t need to worry. Seconds after knocking, Aelin opened the door and pulled him inside by his fingers, rocking up on her toes and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as soon as the door was closed before saying, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied, letting her pull him deeper into the apartment. 

Rowan had seen the space in the background of their video chats, but it became abundantly clear that Aelin had a taste for opulence. Various pieces of art were framed all over the walls, fresh flowers rested on the table tops. Several jewel-toned rugs lay upon the restored wooden floors and her couch was deep green made of plush velvet. The dining and end tables were golden and topped with marble. Even the blankets over the back of the couch were fluffy fabrics that no doubt felt like being covered with a cloud. 

A handful of boxes were still stacked in the corner of the living room, easily visible because of the open floor plan the space offered. To the left, the kitchen boasted marble countertops with golden hardware. Yes, this apartment building was still very much in its golden age, or maybe Aelin was just that skilled with decorating.

Rowan’s was a modern apartment building closer to the business district, but this one honestly blew it out of the water. In the short time she had been there, only a few weeks she had told him, Aelin had managed to make this into a home. It felt lived in and loved, like she had always been here. Despite being able to smell the slightly-musty age of the building, it was buried under layers of jasmine, lemon verbena, and the dinner she had simmering on the stove. 

“Ignore the boxes, I’m still waiting for some shelving to come in for my books and things,” she explained with the wave of her hand. As if the stack of boxes could ever take away from the magical oasis she had transformed the apartment into. Compared to this, the house in Doranelle that he had lived in for the last six years was bare and nowhere near a home. 

“Are you sure you’ve only been staying here for a few weeks?” Aelin’s laughter was bright as she walked into the kitchen and began mixing the contents of a large pan with a wooden spoon. Aelin’s legs were bare, seemingly nothing beneath the t-shirt that hung to the tops of her thighs. 

“I’m a creature of luxury. Besides, I’ll be splitting my time between here and Orynth with work.” It was admirable how much she seemed to love the kids she taught, how passionate she was about her work. Piano and dance lessons couldn’t afford an apartment like this, though. Not when she so proudly supported underprivileged areas of major cities. Rowan was sure her parents had the money to help her out, not that it mattered. That was a conversation for another day, especially when she started plating their dinner. “I hope you like pasta.” 

“Are there people that don’t?” He asked, taking both plates from her. Aelin walked past him with a bottle of wine and two glasses, heading for the couch instead of the table. 

“It should be a felony, but I’m sure some bizarre creature or a human exists out there, hating pasta with every fiber of their being.” Rowan snorted in response, handing her the plates after she sat down and folded her legs like a pretzel in front of her. The tiniest pair of shorts that he’d ever seen peaked out from beneath the hem of her shirt. 

Sitting beside her and taking his plate, he had to fight back a groan when he took the first bite. Aside from his mother, he couldn’t remember the last time someone cooked for him that didn’t involve a waitress as a go-between. It was nice to feel cared for, he realized. Even if they both knew tonight would end in her bed. 

A documentary played while they ate, conversation ebbing and flowing with ease throughout. He managed to get her talking a little more about work, how a coworker named Luca was having a hard time with confidence in what he produced but he didn’t need to be. According to Aelin, he was a brilliant young graphic designer and she hoped that with some nurturing under her wing, he would bloom to his full potential. 

When he asked about siblings, she shrugged, “I have a cousin that’s really more like my brother. We’ve been inseparable since the day I was born. Besides him, I’m an only child.” 

“So am I, but I have a hoard of cousins. I’m closest to Sellene and Endymion. Sellene would like you.” 

“What’s not to like?” She teased, eyes full of mirth as she looked at him over the top of her wine glass. The heat in her eyes gave him a vivid memory of  what she had looked like writhing beneath him. 

Gods above, he needed to get a grip.

Aelin listened intently while he talked about his mom and dad, Sellene and Endymion. Her laugh was like a tinkling bell when he recounted memories from his childhood and chimed in with her own. Both of them may have been only children, but agreed they’d never felt lonely or alone for the most part.

“There was a period when my cousin went off to college—” she paused for another sip of wine and to place her empty bowl on the coffee table. Rowan did the same. “That was the only time I felt lonely. He’s four years older than me, so it was hard to go through my entire high school experience with him not quite as close. He actually went to college in Doranelle and could only really come home for holidays. He surprised me for my 16th birthday and it was the best one I’ve ever had.” 

There was a small smile on her lips before she continued, “My parents had a limo for me and my friends to ride to the venue it was at, and I got in the car and the partition was lowered. The driver was wearing a hat and aviators, straight out of a movie. And then he said I hear we have a birthday girl in our midst and I knew it was him. I completely lost it. Best present ever.” Rowan found himself grinning along with her, her joy at the memory contagious to his core. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t have cousins that terrorized you until you were big enough to fight back.” That had been the general tone of his upbringing, but once he went through puberty and grew well over six feet tall, the teasing had calmed down a bit. Probably because Rowan could easily throw Enda over his shoulder by the point.

“Oh, gods. Believe me, we have been through it. There were times when he was annoyed that I wanted to do everything he did, and times when I was annoyed that he tried to embarrass me in front of my friends or boys that I liked. He used to sit on me and tickle me until I cried and we were constantly trying to flick each other until we were bruised like peaches. Typical sibling stuff.”

Rowan laughed, nodding as he recalled having very similar memories with Enda specifically. He could relate to the ones based in annoyance— Sellene had been a hellion. 

“Sellene used to embarrass me in front of pretty girls, too. Not that I needed help in that department. I do fine enough on my own to this day, but seventeen year old Rowan didn’t know how to talk to women at all.” 

“You’ve done alright with me.” Aelin’s small hand reached for his, lacing their fingers like she had done it a million times. Her nose wrinkled as she grinned, and he had to fight the urge to kiss her. Godsdamn, this woman. 

“I wouldn’t be so lucky if we were in high school.” At that, she laughed, making a teasing quip about his rushed voicemail and stilted text message. At the end, she reassured him it was charming and that he wouldn’t be here if she didn’t think so. 

“Some people struggle digitally. I won’t hold it to you, old man.” Rowan flicked her knee at the moniker, but couldn’t repress the smile on his lips all the same. 

~*~ 

“Rowan,” Aelin said softly, rubbing her eyes and sitting up on the couch. The man behind her released a low groan as his arm tried to pull her back down. 

After talking for what must have been hours, they settled on watching New Girl and had, apparently, fallen asleep not too long after it started. A wide yawn escaped her as she patted his thigh a few times to rouse him awake. 

“Shit, what time is it?” Rowan forced himself to sit up behind her, knocking his elbow into her shoulder in the process. Instead of cowering in pain, she started to giggle through the sleepy fog. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it didn’t hurt,” she promised, tapping the screen of her phone. “It’s almost five.”

“I can go. I didn’t mean to fall—”

“I’m not waking you up to kick you out. I’m waking you up to come to bed with me.” Aelin stood, holding out her hand. Once she had both of his hands in hers she began to tug, taking steps backward while he pretended to protest by going nearly entirely limp against the couch. “You can sleep by yourself out here, it’s fine.” 

Dropping both of his hands she turned and made her way toward her bedroom. Aelin had only made it a handful of feet away before strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Rowan pressed soft kisses against her neck at the same time he lifted her entirely off the floor. Stomach flipping, she squealed while he padded toward her bedroom, finally placing her down on the bed. 

She was quick to crawl under the blankets, flipping them back so he could get in with her. He followed dutifully, slinging his shirt off and tossing it onto a little chair in the corner of her room as he sank down until his head rested against the pillow. 

Despite how easy it would be for either of them to roll onto the other and make the other unravel at the seams, she gently pecked his lips a few times. Each one lingered a little more than the last until she finally pulled away and rested her head against his chest. With his hand rubbing soothing lines up and down her back, it was easy to melt into him, eyes drifting shut as she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that smelled like home. @elentiyawhitethornorn @autumnbabylonylon @fancysludgeshoelampelamp  @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-lifee @the-hospitality-of-knivesf-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn  @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @secondstartorightand @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme  @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294  @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior

[manonblaqkbeak]

Scaling in the Moonlight

Hello everyone!!! Long time no see!!! It's been eleven months!!!!! since I last wrote anything. I hated the fact that I missed last years rowaelin month and was determined to write something for this years rowaelin month (and a special thank you to @goddess-aelin for her lovely note saying she missed my work <3)

And thanks to the lovely people that run rowaelin month!!! you are all amazing!!! @rowaelinscourt

Apologies in advance if my writing and grammar and characterisation is a little rusty, like I said, it's been eleven months since I last wrote anything and I'm slowly getting through my ToG re-read (which has really opened my eyes to how traumatised Aelin is as a person/character).

Words: 800+. CW: none, I don't think.

Day 18- Aelin and Rowan's hawk form.

It was two AM and Aelin was out, wondering the dark city streets of Orynth, looking for the right building.

Instead of using the castle's obstacle course like most sane people would, Aelin decided that she needed to do this the way she was trained too—by scaling the side of buildings, using every muscle in her body to pull herself up to reach the top of the building, to run across the rooftops to get closer to her target.

She needed the reminder that she could—and that she hadn't lost her edge.

Although, she was sure she had lost it. She did still train, from magic to weapons to hand-to-hand combat, she did whichever she was in the mood for with what free time she had, but as Queen and mother to five children, she had no need to scale buildings and jump from rooftop to rooftop.

So she had decided, as she ate her dinner with her family, she was going to relive her past life; if only for a couple of hours.

Aelin walked through one more street before she found a good starting point—a shoe store that she did frequent with Rowan and their children. It was two storeys tall and she knew that no one occupied the apartment above the shop so no one would see her.

Hopefully no one would hear her either.

Stretching before climbing, Aelin told herself that it would be fine. She had given birth to five children, all without pain relieving herbs, she could—would—scale this building with ease.

Finding her footing was easy enough, so Aelin started her trek—and thankfully didn't fall off, although she did slid time a few times and had to grit her teeth to stop her cursing from echoing around town.

The burning in her muscles took her back to how she used to be, how she used to be able to demand any contract and fat coin purse she desired.

She didn't miss that life, not at all, but it was part of who she was and she was not ashamed of it.

Taking one last gulping breath, Aelin hoisted herself over the roofs ledge and let the accomplishment rush through her.

So determined she was in proving herself that she could still do this, she hadn't been aware that she had a follower.

A follower that now clicked his beak at her.

Aelin's head snapped upwards, taking in her mate's large hawk-form as he perched on the chimney.

“You were asleep when I left,” was all Aelin could think of to say.

Rowan clicked his beak again, as if to say And now I'm awake.

“Clearly,” Aelin said, “how'd I go from your end?”

She waited for him to shift back but he didn't. He wasn't mad at her, she knew that much, but she didn't want anyone to see her talking to her mate like this—it felt too intimate to be like this in public, but after two decades together, Aelin could converse with Rowan in his hawk form as easily as she could talk to him in his Fae form.

Rowan didn't say anything but flew to the building next to her. He clicked his beak. You can climb well enough, let's see how you can jump.

Aelin moved to the ledge, looking down to the ground, if she didn't make it, she wouldn't die, but she'd probably be bruised all over.

She looked at Rowan, who was waiting patiently. “Will you nurse me back to health if I fall?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at her husband, who rolled his eyes.

“That better be a yes,” she said and moved back to take a running jump.

Gods, if she fell, she'd never get over the embarrassment.

Aelin ran and jumped—and just made it. She hit her chin hard enough that when she made it over the ledge of the building, she laid down and stared at the open night sky.

A flash of light brighter than the moon came and went, and then there was Rowan, taking her in.

“Fireheart,” he said, his voice deep and concerned. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” Aelin said, her chin sore but she would live. She eyed her mate up and down, however, and said, “But I would still appreciate being nursed back to health—especially if you take your shirt off.”

Rowan rolled his eyes again, but obliged her, his shirt coming off in one easy movement that had her contemplate making a sixth baby.

“Where does it hurt, milady?” her king-consort asked, his rough fingers moving across her collarbone.

“Here,” she said, pointing to her chin, and soon she was better, especially as she chased Rowan around in his hawk form, easily jumping from roof to roof as the hours went by.

[rowaelinscourt]

welcome to the masterlist, friends! we’ll be keeping track of all the content made this month here. days will be separated so it’s easier to find what you’re looking for if you’re on the hunt. happy rowaelin month! 💚

Rowaelin Month 2023

Day One: Song Fic

Day Two: Accidents Happen

Day Three: Rowaelin as teens

Day Four: “Friends don’t do this”

Day Five: A Bad Date

Day 6: Forced Proximity

Day 7: Vacation/Outdoor Activity

Day 8: Single Parent AU

Day 9: Renaissance Fair

Day 10: Co-host/Guest Star with Chemistry

Day 11: Getting arrested/Trip to the police station

Day 12: Meet Cute/Meet Ugly

Day 13: Kids/Next Gen/Babies

Day 14: An Argument/Making Up After

Day 15: Meet The Parents

Day 16: Mob AU

Day 18: Aelin and hawk Rowan

Day 19: Tattoos

Day 20: Drunken Antics

Day 21: Scars

Day 22: Magic/Shifting with the Kids

[leiawritesstories]

Horsey

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 5: Birthdays @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 954

Warnings: so so SO much fluff teehee

inspired by the work of @sassyhobbits. i could not resist. enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where’s the birthday girl?” Aelin crooned, pretending not to notice the big purple bow that bobbed behind Lorcan’s leg. 

“I right here!” The giddy exclamation was coupled with a blur of purple silk and dark curls as newly five-year-old Marion Salvaterre Lochan launched herself into her auntie’s arms. “Hi Auntie!” 

Aelin beamed and hugged her niece. “Happy birthday, Mari darling! Are you having the best day and eating all the yummy cake?” Marion nodded excitedly, clapping her little hands. She was a perfect image of her mother, but she had Lorcan’s sharp dark eyes. 

“Auntie Lyssie gave me pretty bwace-wet!” The small girl proudly held out her right arm. “See?” 

“Ooh, yes, very pretty.” Aelin kissed the top of Marion’s head. “Alright, honey, why don’t you go find your da? I think he’s looking for you again, birthday girl.” 

“Okay!” Marion ran over to Lorcan, her little purple silk shoes pattering on the tile of the Lochan manor’s sunlit ballroom. “Hi Dada!” Lorcan lifted his daughter into his arms, whispering something that was probably disgustingly sweet into her ear. Aelin chose not to let her Fae ears pick it up. 

Elide crossed the room and stopped to kiss her girl’s rosy cheeks before she came to Aelin. “Thank you so much for being here,” she said, beaming. “I know you’re terribly busy with running a kingdom.” 

“She has people for that,” Rowan murmured, just loud enough for them to hear. Aelin swatted his chest, sending him a long-suffering look. 

So uncivilized.

He smirked. That’s why I don’t take on court duties.

Maybe I should have commanded you to keep an eye on things while I went to my beautiful niece’s birthday celebration. 

And spent half the treasury on gifts? I think not. He dodged the elbow she angled at his ribs. Ah-ah, love. I know the way you move.

She gave him a saccharine smile. As do I, buzzard, she all but purred. 

Elide sighed loudly. “Will the two of you stop flirting with each other right in front of everyone’s poor eyes? It’s bad enough how disgustingly in love you are already.” 

“Says the woman whose husband willingly gave up five hundred years of warrior high life to play housemaid and change diapers,” Aelin returned, winking at her dear friend. 

The petite woman snorted. “Lorcan knows damn well he’s better off here than he ever would be whacking himself off in some army tent.” 

“Godsdamned right I do.” Lorcan covered Marion’s eyes and bent nearly in half to kiss his wife. 

Aelin groaned and covered her own eyes. “Gods above.” She tugged subtly on the blood oath before Lorcan could show her a vulgar gesture. “Now now, Salvaterre, there are children present.” At her side, Rowan snickered, amused at Lorcan’s grumpiness. 

“Why don’t we give our favorite niece her birthday present?” he suggested, smoothing over the situation before either Lorcan or Aelin could pester the other. 

Marion clapped and exclaimed her excitement. “Yes yes yes! I wanna present, Unc’a Ro!” 

Rowan laughed. “Alright, Mari. Should we go outside? I think there might be something out there for you.”

Led by Aelin, and with Marion still sitting comfortably in her father’s arms, the handful of them went out into the courtyard, where a small, intricately worked wooden trunk sat on the stones. Marion gasped and squirmed, and when Lorcan set her down, she ran over to the box and opened it up. Her dark eyes went huge with wonder, and she lifted a length of lavender silk and gauze out. 

“It’s a pretty dress!” she screeched, jumping excitedly. “Yay!” She brought the dress to her mother, who laid it carefully over one arm, and sprinted for her aunt and uncle, who showered her with hugs and kisses before letting her go back to her favorite spot in Lorcan’s arms. 

“There’s one more little present,” Aelin said, winking at Marion. 

The small girl’s eyes grew even wider. “Really?” 

“Really.” Aelin grinned conspiratorially. “Let’s go around the corner, shall we?” They walked towards the stables, and Rowan’s confusion crowded her mind. 

What did you get her, Aelin?

Something she’ll be able to love for a very long time.

That…is not very descriptive.

Of course not. She chuckled at his confusion and grandly slid the stable doors open. “Happy birthday, my little love!” All the sets of eyes peered into the stable, and shock bolted like lightning through everyone except the queen of Terrasen. 

Because there was an Asterion standing in the Lochan stables. 

Elide turned slowly towards Aelin. “Did you…No, you most certainly did not. I’m dreaming.” 

“Did you seriously get our daughter an Asterion?” Disbelieving, Lorcan asked the question Elide couldn’t vocalize. 

“She said she wanted a pony!” Aelin shrugged. “The royal stables have been taking wonderful care of our Asterions, and this young mare is three years old, fully trained, and probably the sweetest and most evenly tempered Asterion you could ask for.” 

“HORSEY!!!” Marion squealed, instantly in love with her birthday gift from Auntie Aelin. 

The simple, childish, gleeful declaration made the situation seem simple. Despite Rowan’s look that screamed we will be discussing this later, even he applauded when Lorcan set Marion astride the back of the young Asterion mare, which didn’t so much as twitch at the feeling of a passenger. She was so ecstatic that Elide just shook her head as she hugged Aelin. 

“You are far too extravagant, but we love you,” she whispered. “Thank you.” 

“Anything for my favorite and only niece.” Aelin had a soft, faraway look in her eyes as she watched Marion gently pat the horse’s mane, dreaming of the day one of her own children might do the same thing. “We love you too.”

~~~

Tags:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

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@charlizeed

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@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

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@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

[llyncooljones]

peace in the noise - rowaelin month day fourteen.

ao3 ||��masterlist || rowaelin month ‘22 masterlist 

prompt: CANON WEEK: what if... nothing bad ever happened, and they met organically. pain-free, just vibes set in the 'canon' universe.

word count: 1229

trigger warnings: language, alcohol.

tag list: @rowaelinscourt  @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp   @fireheartwhitethorn4ever  @elentiyawhitethorn  @rowanaelinn  @autumnbabylon  @leiawritesstories  @backtobl4ck

a bar in varese, the evening.

Aelin was turning thirty.

Three, zero.

It was pretty fucking insignificant, people she knew were turning nine-hundred and thirty this year. But, having been brought with the knowledge that she might not settle, that she might not live past eighty-five, had made her more appreciative of her years.

So, whilst to most fae she knew or had ever known in the past, turning thirty would be insignificant, to her it felt important, to her it felt weighted—heavier than twenty-nine had been.

And she felt a little bit crazy for it, especially given the fact that she had settled, and she was going to live to see eighty-five (if the battlefield allowed for that to happen).

She should have been home, tucked up on a sofa with her parents, her friends, and her cousins. She should have been in the castle, enjoying the oversized chocolate hazelnut cake her parents had made for her. She should have been married, she should have had children, and she should have been more like her mother. She should have been a lot of things. But she wasn’t.

She wasn’t, and that was the crux of it all.

It was why, two weeks ago she had left a note saying she would be on holiday for the foreseeable future, and that should anyone need to contact her, she would be arriving in Varese, two weeks from that date (today), and that they could talk to her then.

And now, she was regaining her land legs, having spent the last fourteen days on a boat. She had a bag with not much in it, but that had been dumped in the tiny room she was renting, and now she was sweating herself silly walking through the streets.

Varese was so much hotter than Orynth had ever been, and was still and stagnant compared to the wild, vicious waters she had been sailing over, and living on, for the past two weeks. She felt ridiculous in her loose-fitting clothes, with her hair toppled together on her head to keep it off her hot neck, leather sandals on her feet that left her toes on display.

Left them in the open to be trodden on—which they had been, several times. Too many times.

Dusk had just descended, and the nightlife was beginning. People were already unsteady on their feet, and Aelin had already found herself wading through a crowd watching two rather large fae males fighting.

The red tile rooves—she wondered if it was terracotta, or if they could paint rooves in a city like this—provided a glow that she hadn’t seen in Terrasen, lights were reflected off metal finishing and mirrors, and the white walls of the houses and establishments she wandered past.

She was waiting until she found a quieter street, a darker street, a street she would never normally be allowed to walk down. Because surviving a war meant that she was obviously incapable of keeping herself safe. But Aelin did not, and never once had, pretend to understand how her mother’s mind worked (in mysterious ways), she just liked (in fact, to live her own life).

Hence the drastic measures.

Her ears twitched at every sound, and every movement had her eyes following, each time a person was pushed into her, or brushed her skin as they hurried past—her skin tightening, and her mind throbbed with the urge to punch them.

Healthy, it was not. But Aelin, it most certainly was.

With her senses having taken all they possibly could, ignoring the need for somewhere down a dark and deserted street she would never normally be allowed down, she darted into the doorway of the nearest bar.

The walls were white, or as close to white as they could be given the fact it was a bar and drinks got spilt and stains got left. The bar was blonde wood, which was shined and sanded, smooth to her delicate, explorative touch. She picked her fingertips up, rubbed them together, and blew on them.

Found no dust.

She took a seat, and she cursed her mother for creating this clean freak.

With her head cradled between two hands, she couldn’t imagine she was the kind of person that frequented a bar like this. But when she looked around and found people talking quietly, subtle piano music playing over the speakers, and too many open chairs to call this place busy, she found that she happened to be their target audience, no matter who that might be.

“Rough day?”

Aelin startled, looked up to find green eyes peering down at her from his place behind the bar. He held a cloth in one hand, and a jug in the other. He had on simple clothes, those you would normally find on a barkeep.

But Aelin couldn’t help but notice the warrior’s tattoos that featured all across his body, trailing up his arm, along his fingers, and across the backs of his hands. He had symbols drawn on his face, markings that displayed his rank, his wars, and his kills.

They were the markings of an ancient warrior. The exact collection belonged only to six men to ever exist, the elite. They were rumoured to have dispersed years ago, never to be seen together again. But here Aelin was, staring her history books right in the face, wondering if he could tell her war stories, wondering if he had any tips and tricks to prevent nightmares from waking her up.

She couldn’t stop, once her mind had started. Wondered which one he was. There was the hawk—Rowan Whitehorn. There was also the dark—Lorcan Salvaterre. The white wolf—Fenrys Moonbeam. The black wolf—Connall Moonbeam. The lion—Gavriel, but Aelin couldn’t recall his last name. and finally, the osprey—Vaughan, again, whose name she couldn’t remember.

The Cadre.

That was what her books liked to call them, and Aelin had liked the term. She and her cousin, Aedion, had spent much of their shared childhood playing like warriors. Stealing moves from the history books, using them on each other. Until Aelin’s mother had deemed it inappropriate and had stopped it from happening.

“Such a rough day that you’ve lost your hearing?” he asked again, becoming impatient in the time she was thinking.

“No. Not all.” She let out a harsh laugh, that maybe said today was a rough day, “it’s the best damned day I’ve had in fifteen years. Just a little over the crowds, I’m not quite used to the noise of this many people without the noise of war, accompanying.”

“It can be rough, but for now, I can offer you a drink, and my company. I’m Rowan, the owner.” His voice slid over her skin like honey, soft and silky, sticky as though it would never leave.

Aelin was glad when he said his name. he had always been her favourite; she had loved his bravery. Wondered whether his wind, his ice, would be enough her calm her fire, and be enough o encourage it.

She was glad, when he placed a drink in front of her, his own dangling from his fingers.

As they talked, telling stories, reminiscing about days gone by, and sharing war stories—each worse than the one before—Aelin was glad she had walked into the bar.

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day Thirteen: Pregnant @rowaelinscourt

Month Masterlist // AO3

just fluff. wasn't really wanting to post but here we are

.*.*.*.*.

Morning Light

Winter hung low over the city one early morning in December.  The gray clouds were impenetrable, even to the brightness of the sun, leaving the world in a pale gray haze.  Ever since October, the weather had taken a turn.  It left everyone in a violent desperation for warmth.  Instead, Terrasen was gifted freezing rain, cold wind, and darkened skies.  Everything had transformed in the span of a few weeks leaving Aelin desperate for summer.

She’d always preferred those warm months with the bright sun, blue skies, and warm air.  Summer was when everything felt alive and real.  Now, as she stared out the from window and at the trees that surrounded the house, the world simply felt bare.

It was strange considering most of the trees in the forest were evergreen and there was only the occasional alder and maple stripped bare to empty branches.  And the foliage was still rich and vibrant.  Not even the freezing weather could kill the sword fern or blackberry bush.

Still…the world felt different now.

She raised her mug of hot chocolate to her lips taking a long sip.  Most of it was still whipped cream.  She fully believed that if a mug wasn’t at least half full of either marshmallow or cream, it wasn’t hot chocolate.  The sweet drink seeped through her body, warming the near perpetual chill that had been settled in her bones since September.

Through the window she watched a red breasted robin land in the bird feeder, plucking away at the seed she’d refilled yesterday.  It didn’t seem bothered by the chill.  Or maybe instinct had driven it from its nest.

She took another sip of cocoa.

Upstairs she listened as the bedroom door opened and a pair of soft feet descended the stairs.  She didn’t turn, waiting for the inevitable feel of her husband coming up behind her.  In a matter of moments, she was wrapped up in his strong arms.

“You’re up early,” Rowan said, his voice rough with sleep as he nestled his nose into the juncture of her neck.

Aelin smiled, enjoying the feel of him against her. “I had to pee.”

A chuckle rippled through Rowan’s chest.  He pressed his lips to her skin, kissing and nipping a small love bite there.  One of his hands stretched out over her stomach.

“Is the little firefly causing grief again?” he teased.

“Always,” Aelin said.  Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.  She couldn’t help it these days.  Ever since learning she was pregnant; she’d been so damned emotional.  Every little thing set her off.  If it wasn’t Rowan’s gentleness it was the dog giving her morning kisses.  And if it wasn’t either of those things it was eating a warm piece of toast.  She couldn’t even go to Wal-Mart in case she accidently walked past the baby department and saw little baby slippers for sale.

She pressed a hand to his, keeping it rooted on her barely swelling belly.  She was only about three months along and would honestly say that she was still in shock over the whole thing.  After five years of marriage, she and Rowan had been slowly moving on from actively trying to grow their family.  They’d seen doctors and even done a few hormonal treatments to try and help things along.  But with money being tight anything more was outside of their budget.  They’d been told it would just take time (some doctors even saying there was nothing to do).

In short, they’d given up hope.

“Please tell me you already ate something?” Rowan asked. “Hot chocolate isn’t real food.”

“It’s what the baby wants,” Aelin insisted.  “You know I can’t keep anything down.”

It was true.  Everything she even looked at made her queasy.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a full meal.

“What about waffles?” Rowan insisted.  He pulled back enough to turn Aelin in his arms so he could kneel down and press a kiss to her belly. “What do you think, Firefly?”

“You know he’s not going to start moving for another three weeks, right?” Aelin rolled her eyes, though still endeared at her husband’s antics.

“It’s a girl,” Rowan replied swiftly.  He kissed her belly one more time before standing, taking the hot chocolate from her. “And baby agrees with me.  Waffles are in order.”

It was a common argument of if they were having a boy or a girl.  Neither was planning on yielding anytime soon.

“With strawberries,” Aelin conceded.  It was the one fruit that she could stomach.

“Absolutely.”

Aelin let her husband lead her to the kitchen and sat at the table while he insisted on bustling around to get breakfast in order.  He even made her more hot chocolate without her even having to ask.

It was a simple Saturday morning, but she wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

[julemmaes]

Payback

Rowaelin Month, Day Five

A/N: Yall I'm dying. I didn't even wanna write today and I kinda forced myself to and I'm not proud of myself for this but I just wanted you to have something so yep. Tomorrow's will be a lot angstier and sadder than this one, so soak up the very light fluff I'm giving you till you can

Signing off, goodnight yall

Word count: 3,614

Aelin hated the underground car park reserved for the residents of her building. It was dark, so narrow that you had to do at least a hundred swerves to avoid taking any corner and scratching off half your car, and it was impossible to find a spot when everyone came home in the evening after hours and hours in the office and parked as they saw fit while still thinking about the thousands of pieces of paperwork that would be waiting for them at their desks only nine hours later, sometimes taking up more than two spots at once.

The only reason she still tried to park down there was that there was a flock of pigeons in the trees just outside their block of flats, on the main road, which had made a nasty habit of shitting on anything - or anyone, on some unpleasant occasion - that stopped for more than five minutes under the thick branches. A perfect hiding place for birds, that no one had thought to warn her about when she had moved in only a few months earlier.

She had deemed herself lucky the night before, when she had returned before anyone else and found the lot completely empty. She'd been so happy that she'd driven around a bit down there just for the hell of it. She'd pulled up next to the exit, thinking it would be easier to get out the next morning.

She hadn't anticipated the three assholes who had parked so as to block her path in every conceivable way.

She grunted, banging her fist against the steering wheel when she realised she still wasn't clear, and put the car into reverse for the twelfth time, before changing gear and driving three inches forward. And so on, and on, and on, until she managed to steer the face of the car towards the exit and let out a satisfied howl.

She started up the slope towards the road, taking her eyes off the driveway and distracting herself for a moment to choose which radio to listen to, when the car hit something and the dull sound of the bang echoed throughout her body, propelling her forward.

Aelin squealed, hitting the brakes hard enough to cause a high-pitched squeal, and soon the smell of burnt plastic filled her nostrils.

The car shut off and she pulled the handbrake vehemently, getting out of the car and trying to figure out which wall she had hit, already cursing every deity that had ever existed. She didn't have enough money to afford a repair, and she knew perfectly well that the dent would be there for months before she let any of her friends help her.

She wrinkled her brow, noticing how no side of the car was touching walls or columns.

"What the..."

And then she heard it, a grunt of pain.

She opened her eyes wide, running around the car and finding a man on the ground.

To the view of a head full of stark white hair, the fear she’d just ran over one of the oldies that lived on her floor stuck her. But then the person got up on their elbows and she let go of a sigh of relief.

But still, she had just runapartment someone over. She hurried his way.

"Oh, fuck." said Aelin, approaching the stranger. The man pulled himself up to sit, bringing a hand to his face, on his cheek, where a cut was bleeding profusely on his shirt.

"Holy shit." muttered the guy, looking up at her, "That hurt."

Aelin was frozen in time, her hands to her gaping mouth, looking for the right words.

When he tried to stand, swaying a little, she pushed through the fog in her mind and truly looked at him, searching other injuries, but not failing to notice his sheer handsomeness.

The man looked like he’d been made in heaven.

She shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself – now was not the time – and started talking.

“I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t see you there and- oh god, you’re bleeding. You need me to rush you to the hospital? Fuck, you think you broke something?” the words just kept flowing and flowing. “Where were you even going? Why didn’t you just got out of the main entrance? This fucking parking lot. I swear we have to call the landlord and have him put some lights down here. Your shirt,” she grimaced, eyeing the blood standing out on the white fabric. Aelin looked him in the eye, “I have a very similar one upstairs? You want me to go fetch it for you, I could-”

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, putting his hands in between them, forcing her to step back, “Shut the fuck up!”

Aelin’s mouth closed shut and her eyebrows raised so high she felt her skin pull on her temples. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes popping out.

This man. Sure, she’d just ran him over, but no one had ever talked to her like that.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled, “And I live in this building, I’ll go take my own shirt, thank you.” He took a deep breath, brushing off his trousers and bending to gather his stuff that had scattered around during his fall. When he lifted his head again, he gave her a tight smile and his piercing green eyes stared at her with an intensity that had Aelin’s toes curling in her shoes.

“Have a nice day.”

He then proceeded to walk away, leaving Aelin alone in the darkish driveway.

She looked around, hoping to see someone who could confirm that it had just been a figment of her imagination, but there was no one.

Getting back in her car, Aelin started the engine and drove up to the street, chewing on her lips, “What the fuck just happened?”

***

Aelin had thought all day about the mysterious man. She hadn’t been able to focus during her meetings and hadn’t even finished one of her projects. Something that she sure as fuck knew her boss would make her notice and work her ass off to make up for once word got to him.

Her day had started off so bad she knew it couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong.

Her assistant had spilled coffee over her only finished drawing and herself. One of her coworkers had decided today was the perfect day to quit her job and pile her projects on Aelin’s desk. Then she’d gone out for lunch with some of her friends and it had started raining so heavily she’d been forced to stay in the office, only eye-eating the mouth-watering dishes her friends had posted on their instagram stories. They’d made it to the diner just before the sky cracked open.

And, the cherry on top, someone had keyed her car.

She’d been on the verge of tears when she’d spotted the red stains of her neighbor’s blood on the parking lot floor when she got back home, but she didn’t let any fall.

She had a date.

And she wouldn’t let all these little things get to her and ruin what could possibly be the best night of her life.

One of her life-long best friends had set her up on a blind date with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She’d promised the man was the perfect match, someone Elide thought would keep her on her toes and match her overflowing personality.

Aelin had been hesitant at first when Elide hadn’t wanted to give her a name, or show her a picture, claiming she’d go all FBI style on him and ruin their first meeting, but she’d also promised Aelin she’d met the guy a few times and he’d been nothing but a gentleman.

And she had heard so much of him she felt like she’d known him her whole life.

Some of the things Elide had told her, she’d liked better if she’d found directly from him, but Aelin was a picky woman and she wasn’t risking another date with a creeper.

She pulled up in the restaurant’s parking lot where Elide had reserved the four of them a table and turned off her car, clutching the wheel. She took a deep breath. And another.

She was still a little worked up and all the pent-up emotions of the day were threatening to spill over the surface any minute, but she could make it past dinner and then have her little monthly breakdown in the peace and quiet of her apartment.

She fixed her lipstick, tightened up her ponytail and let two strands of hair cascade on the side of her face. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, “You can do it.” she whispered as a short pet talk.

She got off the car, pulled out her phone to check if Elide was already inside and she was so focused on the screen she failed to notice someone backing up right in front of her until it was too late.

The car only bumped into her hip, but it was enough to make her lose her balance.

Aelin merely had time to register what was happening that she found herself lying in a puddle of rain and mud. She closed her eyes at the dull pain on the back of her head, but she knew for a fact the hit hadn’t been that bad.

She lifted her arms up, looking down at the wet spots on her dress, darkening by the second. Her seventy euros purse soaking up the water all around her.

The tension behind her eyes just increased when she heard the driver’s door open and someone step out of the car. She couldn’t have stopped the sobs even if she wanted to.

“Miss? Oh god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Strong arms circled her waist and pulled her up in a standing position. She brought her hands to her face, her body now racked by her crying as she tried to get a handle of herself.

“Miss?” the voice called again, now nearer. “Are you hurt? I didn’t-” the man talking stopped suddenly and Aelin looked up, not seeing anything through the tears. “You.”

And then it hit her.

That voice.

She knew that voice.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes and staring right back at the man she had ran over that same morning.

Her mouth fell open.

He was looking at her with an amused expression and Aelin couldn’t find the words once again.

What was it with this man and his ability to take her ability to talk by just showing up?

He had a transparent band-aid on his cheek, his cut far less severe than she had thought, and his eyes were glistening with mirth. He was wearing a simple black pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt, but he was even more handsome than in his work clothes.

Aelin was taking rushed, trembling breaths, and she was about to kill this man with her bare hands. Shred his skin off his bones and have him beg-

“I guess we’re even now, uh?”

His attempt of a joke flew over her head and she charged at him, a scream lodged in her throat.

His eyes widened and he took a step back when she flung her arm at him, trying to hit him. His hands closed around her wrists, blocking her from causing him more harm that she’d already done.

“You asshole!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “You ruined my dress!”

Aelin lifted a leg, more than convinced to kneel his balls, but he managed to block her blow again, infuriating her even more.

“I was about to meet the love of my life and ruined my fucking dress!”

He tried to push her away from him, still squeezing her wrists, and his brow furrowed.

“He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He’s a pediatrician! He loves children! And he has a cute fucking dog my friend said I would love and cuddle the shit out of! Her name is Fleetfoot and she’s a golden retriever and Elide knows I fucking love goldens. And he’s from Orynth, just. Like. Me!” she got louder and louder with every word she spit out. “And he’s tall, and handsome and he’s the perfect match! And I deserved this one night!”

The man was now looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, his hold slightly loosening.

“I’m so done with this dating thing and I’d finally found him and you!” she shoved a finger in his chest, making him retreat a few steps. “You wanted your payback so bad you ran me over with your car!

“And now he’s gonna take one look at me and think I’m a fucking psycho! I bet my hair are the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen and my make up. Oh fuck, I must look like a panda.” Aelin started crying harder, laying her hands flat on the man’s torso, pushing her head to his chest. “I look like a fucking panda.”

She tried to speak again but her mind just couldn’t form any coherent thought, until she felt the man’s arms closing around her shoulders. He stepped closer, running his hand up and down her back, whispering something she couldn’t really hear over her crying.

Aelin didn’t know how much time she spent in the stranger’s embrace, but when the gravity of the scene she’d just made in front of him downed on her, she felt her body flare up in embarrassment.

That was her life now?

Having mental breakdowns in a dark parking lot after someone she’d ran over with her car had returned the gesture and then making them console her?

She detached herself from the man and for a second she thought she’d felt him hesitate before he took a step back. And another, leaving her standing her in her soaking wet dress and her puffy, surely-red eyes. He bent down, picking up her purse and handing it to her.

She lowered her gaze, not even daring looking at his shoes and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

The man made a sound of surprise, “Why would you be sorry?”

Aelin wished she could die on the spot. Evaporate out of existence.

“For hitting you. Or at least trying. And crying all over you.” she said and then grimaced. She ran a hand over her face. “I just had a very hard day and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come, but this guy seriously seems like he could be the missing piece to whatever the fuck my puzzle-life is. I didn’t want to take a raincheck and have him thinking I’m not serious about this.”

A beat of silence, “I’m sure he would have understood.”

She shook her head, keeping on talking as if he hadn’t even been there, “And now I can’t go in like this.” she passed her hands on her dress, the tears building up again in her eyes. “Plus, Elide didn’t tell me what he looks like, cause she thinks he’s a real snack and wanted to see my face when I saw him for the first time.” she was bordering on pouting, “That means he’s gotta be smoking hot or I’ll be so pissed at her.”

The man snorted loudly, “A snack.” he hummed, “Maybe I should meet your friend and thank her.”

Aelin’s head snapped up, “Oh no, she’s taken.” she shook her head vehemently, “Like so freaking taken. I swear she and her boyfriend have been together for a whole of three months and they already act like a married couple.”

He nodded, a lopsided smile on his face, “I know the kind.”

She’d been so absorbed by her talking that she hadn’t noticed she’d stopped crying.

She breathed through her nose and clasped her hands together, before reaching one out towards him, “I think introductions are needed. I’m Aelin.” she offered a tentative smile.

His hand engulfed hers, shaking it with impressive gentleness. His smile grew even larger if possible and Aelin was starting to think she was about to het murdered.

But then he said his name and the world ceased existing around them.

Their hands still moving up and down between them.

She tilted her head forward, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

He licked his lower lip, “I’m Rowan.”

Aelin closed her eyes, holding her breath.

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. She took a step back, wishing for the ground beneath her feet to crack open and just eat her whole.

“I’m gonna go kill myself now, if you’ll excuse me.”

His laugh reached her ears with painful speed.

Rowan.

She couldn’t believe it.

Well, she could. The man laughing his heart out at her expense was probably the most handsome person she’d ever seen in her entire life.

At least Elide hadn’t lied about that.

“A tad dramatic, if you ask me,” he said as his laugh died down. He pointed at the restaurant behind him, “You want me to go fetch the married couple so we can go back at the appartment and you can change? I’m not against you walking in there with this outfit at all,” he gave a pointed look, matched by a shit-eating grin that seemed to be etched in his lips, “I’m not gonna think you’re a psycho, not for this at least, and I’m ready to fight everyone who looks at you the wrong way. But you look like you could use the comfort of a warm house.”

Aelin looked up at him with a questioning look, trying to understand if this man she’d just tried to maul was seriously offering her options, letting her choose after everything that had gone down so far between the two of them. As if still giving her a chance.

Rowan arched a brow, looking around and glancing back at her, “Aelin?”

Oh, fuck.

She had been oh so not ready o hear her name from his lips.

She nodded and he smiled, leaning down a bit.

She could smell his cologne from here.

“Yes to what? Me calling Lorcan and Elide or getting inside even if you dripping wet?”

Holy fucking shit, this man shouldn’t have been allowed to say the words dripping wet.

She stilled herself.

What the hell was she thinking? She brought her hands to her face, “Please call them and let’s head home. I’m so fucking tired.” a yawn broke her sentence, as to prove her words, “And I’m freezing in this skimpy dress.”

Rowan rushed to her side, “Oh, god, sorry for not offering sooner, here,” he opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a huge blue sweater. Without even waiting for an answer he snatched her purse from her hands and shoved her head in his sweater.

Aelin felt better right away and gave him a big smile.

Rowan answered with one of his own and of course he had to be this perfect and more.

“I’m sorry for ruining your dress, I’ll make sure they wash it carefully when I take it to the laundry. If you’d let me.”

She nodded faintly, exhaling the panty-dropping smell of his sweater.

“And I’m hoping to see you wear it again once we finally get to go on a proper date.” he smirked, “I bet you looked amazing before I went and ran you over.”

Aelin chuckled, shaking her head, “You truly are a gentleman. Elide wasn’t exaggerating.”

Rowan’s demeanor changed completely and Aelin feared she’d said something wrong, but he averted his gaze as if he was embarassed.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” he said. Aelin almost tripped on her feet. He was sorry? “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that but I was just coming back from the hospital and Elide was right saying I work with kids, but I’m not a pediatrician, I’m a pediatric surgeon.”

His gaze grew dark as he looked over her shoulder, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs.

“Yesterday night we lost a eight years old and I wasn’t really there when you hit me with your car. I didn’t mean to yell at you like I did, it was just-”

Rowan couldn’t finish his sentence that Aelin lunged for him, hugging him as tight as he’d held her a few minutes before, hoping she could relieve some of the pain that was surely clutching his heart. She felt him sag in her arms and hold her in turn.

She was glad she could offer some kind of support.

“It must be hard.” she whispered against his chest.

Rowan nodded, hitting her head with his chin, “It is, but it’s part of the job. The only way you can live with something like that in your baggage is knowing you did everything you could to save them.”

Aelin could feel the emotion lacing his every word and tightened her arms for a moment before freeing him of her embrace. He silently thanked her and told her he’d be right back with their friends.

The second he was gone she realized she couldn’t wait for when he’d be back and they could keep talking.

She’d never felt this way before. Not this fast at least.

Sure, she had loved all her exes, but this. This was different.

There was something there, a connection.

And while he walked back to her, Lorcan and Elide in tow, a bright smile on his handsome face, she couldn’t help but think she was ready to find out all about it.

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[mariaofdoranelle]

Fake It Till You Make It

Rowaelin Month masterlist

@rowaelinscourt

I got my driver’s license this year, so I wrote this a few weeks ago for today because I’m kinda invested in DMV horror stories loll

Warnings: language

Words: 1,2k

For Rowan, becoming an employee at the Department of Motor Vehicles—also known as DMV—was a fairly easy process. He was unemployed, they had spots open, all the pieces fell right into place.

The hard part was staying in this damn job.

He grabbed the information of the next applicant he was going to examine. A 62-year-old woman who failed her driver’s license exam five times. Rowan tensed. As long as she didn’t kill anyone with that car, it’d be alright.

He crossed the threshold between the restricted area for employees and the waiting room, stepping inside that crowded space that reeked of cheap room deodorizers.

“Evalin Ashryver?” he called over the low chatter.

The woman who approached him was… not what he expected. Apart from the gray roots in her hair and conservative clothing, this woman didn’t look 62 years old at all.

"Ma'am, can I see your ID?"

The charming smile she gave him hit Rowan right between the legs. He looked away, waiting while she searched her purse. Holy rutting Mala, he needed to get a grip. The woman was old enough to be his mother.

She handed him the ID, and Rowan held it right by the woman's side to examine it.

She looked like the same person in the ID, but not quite. In the picture, the nose was a bit different, and it showed more signs of her age. Sagging skin, a few more wrinkles. But is there anything doctors couldn't do these days? It was the exact same shade of blonde hair, the exact same blue eyes with golden hues.

He cleared his throat and handed back the document.

“Ma’am don’t get me wrong, but…” Rowan trailed, carefully selecting his next words. “You should consider replacing your ID.”

Evalin tilted her head, exposing her neck that looked way too smooth and lickable for someone twice his age. “Is something wrong with it?”

“Your fillers.” Rowan gestured to his own face with a swift twirl of his finger. “It could confuse a security agent.”

Her grin was bright, assuring him that she wasn’t embarrassed. "I have a very good doctor, thanks."

Evalin's slow smile built, her eyes studying his biceps and shoulders.

Was this unbelievably hot old lady flirting with him? Rowan took a step back and gestured for her to walk ahead of him. He didn't mind her age, but he also noticed the wedding ring on her finger.

Rowan cleared his throat and led her to the garage. He braced himself when she started the car, his stomach as hard as his muscles felt tight, but the deadly driving he expected never came. It was actually smooth, and the car didn’t stall once.

Weird. That was the kind of conduct he expected from an experienced driver, not someone who failed this test five times.

He narrowed his eyes at Evalin, studying her relaxed posture. "I see you’re not nervous.” Rowan was sure of it, but his tone made it sound like a question. It was strange, seeing a repeater so at ease when most of them reeked of terror and anxiety.

"I had lots of practice with my daughter." Evalin wiggled her eyebrows. "She's single, you know?"

Rowan froze. Something dawned on him, an odd gut feeling, but it made him inspect that woman further.

"Is she?"

"Yep. Her name's Aelin. I can't show you a picture now, but she looks a lot like me." Evalin—was that really her name?—winked. "But with cuter clothes."

Rowan gestured for her to take a turn to the left—not the regular path the DMV used for this exam. Evalin didn't seem to notice this change, which was unusual for someone who was doing this for the sixth time.

"And I'm assuming your daughter was very invested in your exam?"

"Aelin's the most wonderful person who ever existed." She let out an affectionate sigh. "She's clever, fascinating, very, very talented. Not to mention that she's a rare, staggering beauty."

“I’m sure she is,” Rowan sneered with his arms crossed. That woman couldn’t be serious.

He told her to make another atypical turn. Another one she didn't question. Another one she did with too much ease for someone who historically struggled to drive.

She didn’t even pretend to have a hard time. That woman—who wasn’t Evalin, and he suspected it was her daughter—was so confident about this she didn’t even notice Rowan gave her the directions to the nearest police station.

"Can you parallel park in front of this building, please?"

She did it in a matter of seconds, on her first try.

"How did I do?" she asked with a big, smug smile. Aelin had no clue about the route she was supposed to do for this exam, but at least she knew that parallel parking was the last part.

Instead of answering, Rowan swept a finger against her hair.

It came out with gray paint.

He gave her a bored look. "Fake gray roots? Seriously?"

She crossed her arms, eyes narrowed. "It's blonde spray to cover gray roots. You're colorblind."

"And you're under arrest for identity theft."

Her mouth fell open, and it took a second before she yelled, "You're from the DMV, you can't arrest me!"

"That's why we came to the police station." He left the passenger side, rounded the car and opened the driver's door. "Come on, Aelin."

"It's Evalin."

"Aelin."

"E-va-lin," she repeated as if he were mentally disabled.

“Well, E-va-lin, can you please explain your identity issue to a police officer?”

Aelin leaned back on the driver’s seat and crossed her arms. Her head was cocked to the side, her lips pursed as her probing gaze focused on him for a moment.

"If you don't snitch on me, I'll let you take me on a date."

He raised his brows, surprised by this offer. "What makes you think I'll accept that?"

"Because not every man gets to take me out, and you'd rather do that than spend your evening filling all the paperwork it takes to explain why you took an examinee to the police station."

To be honest, she had a point.

Rowan hated this job. He didn't give a fuck about it, especially since most people forgot every driving rule the second they got their license. Aelin committed a crime, but who didn't? As far as he knew, she wasn't a serious threat to society.

"Get off the car."

She sighed, shoulders slumped in resignation, but complied. However, he stopped her as soon as she closed the car door.

"Are you vegan?"

"What?" She blinked. "No, I'm not," Aelin said in an uncertain tone.

"Good. Meet me at Emrys' Steak House at seven." He gripped the door handle to get back to the DMV, but before he left, Rowan looked her up and down and said, "I'm not expecting sex, but please don't wear your mother's clothes."

“Oh.” Aelin perked up, her eyes sparkling this time. “Okay. Did mom pass?"

That bold question made him snort. “I didn't even meet her, so no.”

She smirked. "You wanna meet my parents already? That was fast."

Rowan shook his head in disbelief and got in the car, but not without watching Aelin walk away from him, her hips swaying since she knew he was watching.

There was no way someone could look this good in her mother’s granny clothes. Rowan drove away with a smirk on his face.

If that woman could flip his boring morning routine on the DMV like this, he couldn’t wait to see what she’d pull tonight.

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