#rowaelinmonth2024

[leiawritesstories]

The First Concert

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 16: Opening of the Royal Theater (canon) @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: none!

posted late bc college lol. enjoy!!

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

The morning of the opening of the Royal Theater of Terrasen dawned bright and sunny, clear skies and a crisp chill in the autumn air. The queen had been restless, and as the sun crested the mountains in the east, she stood on her balcony, silk robe wrapped loosely around her frame, and watched the dawn paint the sky in hues of rose. 

You’re awake early. Her mate’s sleepy rumble drifted across her mind. 

Couldn’t stay asleep. 

Footsteps padded across the tiled floor, and it was only a moment before warm, thickly muscled arms banded around Aelin’s waist. It will be a good day.

She leaned back into his embrace. How can you be so sure?

Because our people love you, and they love what you have done for them. Rowan kissed the top of her head. Besides, if you get bored of shaking hands, I know you had a private box built. 

Naughty buzzard. With a half-smirk, she turned to face him, drinking in the sight of his calmness, so rare in the years they had spent together. “I just want it to go well,” she said, quietly. 

Unconsciously, his fingers traced the wings inked across her back. “It will,” he promised. 

“Good.” She pressed her lips to his, lingering in the kiss for a long, sweet moment. “When did you get all the optimism?” 

“When the world ran out of crazy-ass demons trying to kill us all.” Rowan’s tone was completely deadpan. 

Aelin laughed, bright and clear as the Orynth sky. I love you, Ro.

I love you too, Fireheart.

~

Aelin had insisted on coordinating finery for the evening, reveling in Rowan’s suppressed groan when she brought out the linen shirt and emerald silk jacket with silver embroidery that she’d had made for him. He grumbled, but he put on the fine clothes, and she stunned him speechless with her emerald silk dress, its cuffs and hem detailed with the same silver thread, the back a plunging V that dipped nearly to her hips, revealing her tattoos in all their glory. The kingsflame crown sat atop her head, its weight light but solid, grounding the queen in the solemnity of her position. 

“Beautiful,” Rowan murmured, touching his lips to the back of her neck. 

She sucked in a gasp, sparks climbing her spine at the subtle teasing. “Later, my love.” 

He smirked and linked his hand with hers, thumb tracing the obnoxiously large emerald on her wedding band. “As my queen commands.” Together, they ascended the cobblestone steps that led to the entrance of the Royal Theater, exchanging smiles and greetings with the crowd of Orynth’s residents that had gathered for the opening concert. 

At the top of the steps, a forest-green carpet had been rolled out, a matching ribbon looped across the handles of the soaring mahogany double doors of the entrance. Aelin’s court waited there, beaming proudly at the queen who had brought the theater back to its home, and she felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes at the sheer joy on her family’s faces. 

Even Lorcan was…not scowling, though she supposed that had more to do with Elide than the theater. 

Aelin and Rowan stopped beside their court, and with a twist of her hand, flames curled around the prongs of her crown, adorning the symbol of Terrasen, and a twin circlet of fire wove around her mate’s brow. Aelin of the Wildfire, the crowd murmured, a soft rumble of support for their queen. She smiled. “My beloved people!” She kept hold of Rowan’s hand, drawing her strength from him lest she be overcome with emotion. “Welcome back to the Royal Theater of Terrasen!” She pinched her first two fingers together, and a fine ribbon of flame sliced neatly through the ribbon on the doors. Rowan spun out a cool northern wind, and it wrapped around the door handles and tugged them open to the people. 

And they walked into the theater, footsteps falling on plush carpet and polished hardwood, eyes wide at the marble sculptures and gilded frescoes worked into and across the walls and vaulted ceilings. Tales of their beautiful nation—from Brannon to Gavin and Elena all the way down to Rhoe and Evalin, to Orlon, to Aelin. She had protested at first when the artists showed her the sketches, saying she did not need to be pictured all over the walls, but Rowan was…very convincing. 

Overhead, a bell sounded, calling the people into the theater itself, and they slowly filed in, filling the emerald velvet seats that lined the floor and the galleries and the balconies curving around the massive stage. The thick stage curtains were drawn back for the arched tiers of chairs that filled the stage floor, and as the members of the symphony walked onstage, applause rippled up in waves from the crowd. From the royal box, which Rowan had specifically situated in the third tier of balcony boxes on stage left, Aelin was beaming as she applauded. 

The conductor appeared to joyous applause, and he bowed to the audience and to the queen before he stepped onto his podium, tuned the orchestra, and, with a flourish of his baton, launched into the opening chords of the Stygian Suite. Aelin’s hand flew to her mouth, and the tears that had been hovering behind her composure all evening broke free, dripping soundlessly down her face. 

Rowan’s hand splayed on her thigh, warm and firm and reassuring. Are you alright?

It’s…it’s been twenty years since this music was played. In her glassy eyes, he saw a reflection of the child she had been when she snuck into the opera house in Rifthold to hear the symphony, and a reflection of the young woman who had brought the music to life on the keys of a forgotten pianoforte on a spring afternoon. Did you know?

Perhaps. She flicked him a glance, and he chuckled softly. Yes. I asked the conductor if he could prepare this piece for the opening. For you.

The music swelled to a crescendo, the notes bursting into a waterfall of descending arpeggios that crested and swept through the theater like water over the audience. As the final triumphant chords echoed around the vaulted ceiling, Aelin brought her hands together and rose to her feet, leading the standing ovation with tears still tracked down her cheeks. 

She waited for a long while before she left the box, heading down the stairs to greet the orchestra along with the rest of the audience. Most of them had already gone home, and Aelin spoke gratefully to the conductor, wiping the tears from her face. He shook her hands eagerly and introduced her to the symphony members, who were a mix of awestruck and overwhelmed at the appearance and support of the queen. 

“And we have a few particularly special members,” the conductor continued. “You see, Your Majesty, these five were part of the last ensemble to perform this piece—the orchestra that vanished. Five of them made it through the war and chose to come to Terrasen.” 

Aelin’s throat thickened. “I cannot possibly express how much that means,” she choked out. “Thank you. Thank you, so very much.” 

One of the symphony members, a woman with dark hair shot through with silver, set down her violin and took the queen’s hands. “And we can’t thank you enough, my queen, for welcoming us home to Terrasen. For giving us a new home.” 

Aelin could only nod wordlessly, and she was silent all the way back to the palace, overcome with emotion from the performance and the people who had created it. Tucked into bed behind her, sensing the swirling of her mind, Rowan linked his fingers with hers. 

For you, Fireheart. All of it is for you.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day One: Long Distance Surprise @rowaelinscourt

Month Masterlist // AO3

Notes: drabbly and quick (poor edits), most of my energy went into different prompts, haha. But I wanted to write for as many as I could this year!

Warnings: none, ~1k words

.*.*.*.*.

Thinking of You

A chill clung to the air as Aelin stepped from the English Department building.  It was late and cold and all she wanted to do was go home and change into her pajamas and not have any type of responsibility until next week.  Unfortunately for her, she was in Grad School and taking a break didn’t exist in her routine functions. In fact, she probably wouldn't know what a break was until she was graduated with a degree in hand.

Adjusting the strap of her backpack, she took off for the other side of campus.  If she kept a quick pace, she could be safe inside her apartment in under half an hour. She didn’t live too far from the school, something she’d insisted upon when moving to Adarlan.  While she refused student housing, she still wanted to be close for events, classes, and her internship.  Thankfully, she’d gotten all her wishes.  Well, all except one.

When her phone buzzed in her pocket, she fumbled for it.  She caught it on the third ring, pressing the screen to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Fireheart.” Rowan’s voice was a balm to her soul, washing over her with warmth and affection.

“Hi,” she said again, trying to fight off the emotion that burst in her chest just by hearing his voice.

“Are you back at your house yet?” Rowan asked.

He always called her around this time, knowing it was when she got out of her last workshop of the day and was leaving campus.  He always said it was a coincidence but Aelin suspected he didn’t like her walking alone and in silence.

“No, just left,” she sighed. “Things ran long.”

More words threatened to spill out, but Aelin bit them back.  It wasn’t worth bringing it all out now.  She ducked down a path that cut between the administration offices and south parking lot.  The path was lined with maple trees, their canopies hanging low with gold and yellow leaves.  It would only take another sudden drop in temperature before all the leaves would fall away leaving behind bare and empty branches.

“How was your day?” she asked, hoping to push any attention away from her. “Did you get funding for your project?”

Rowan, over a thousand miles away, had accepted a prestigious job at a museum in Terrasen.  With his degree in Ancient Slavic History and Languages, he was invaluable to his team.  He was working towards his own master’s degree with this internship. Which meant different schools.  It was remarkable what he’d been working on over the last few months.  And even though she missed him more and more each day they were apart, she as insanely proud of him.

“Yeah, I did,” he said.  Aelin could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re going to be able to work on a new display with access to those journals from Germany I was telling you about?”

Aelin couldn’t help her own smile as she listened to him talk about his project.  It always sparked warmth in her chest to hear him talk about his passions.  It was a comfort to, just hearing his voice.

They’d met on their first day of undergrad classes in a biology course.  Despite their names being on opposite ends of the alphabet, they’d been partnered together through the entire semester.  It had gone horribly from day one.  They hadn’t gotten along, in fact, all their lab assignments ended in an argument and a threat from the TA to flunk them both.  Why they weren’t separated, Aelin would never know, but she was grateful for in nonetheless. 

Somehow in the chaos of it all, they’d become friends.  And then more.

“Aelin?” Rowan’s gentle prodded broke her from her revere.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she said.

She made it to the main road, streetlamps bright as day.  This side of campus was always well lit, even as it neared ten.

“You sure you’re alright, Fireheart?” Rowan asked. “I know the start of a new semester is hard.”

“Yeah,” she said again, “yeah, I’m fine.”

She tried to lighten her voice and stay upbeat, she didn’t want him to worry.  Rowan already had enough to worry about.

“Aelin.”  Rowan shifted on the other side of the phone and Aelin heard a door shut and what sounded like a beer opening. “I know you.”

Aelin blinked back the tears that started burning behind her eyes.  She would not cry.  She hurried through the courtyard of her apartment complex, cutting a direct line to her apartment.

“Hold on, I’m almost to my door,” she said.  She really just wanted a second to collect herself, especially while on the phone with Rowan.

“Good,” Rowan said, “there should be something waiting for you.”

“What?” 

His words didn’t register until she was hurrying up the stairs that led to her door.  As soon as she reached the landing she found a large box waiting on her welcoming mat.

“What did you do?” she asked.  She unlocked her door, pushing it open so she could toss her bag in. “Hang on, I need two hands.”

After dropping her phone on the couch, she returned back outside to grab the box.  She carried it to the kitchen before returning for her phone.

“Buzzard, what did you do?” Aelin pressed again.  She put the call on speaker so she could open the box a little less chaotically with a pair of scissors.

“I thought you could use a pick-me-up,” Rowan said.

The box wasn’t a simple little thing either.  Aelin started pulling things out—fuzzy socks, candles, bath salts, and chocolate.  So much chocolate.  In fact, most of the box was chocolate.

This time, Aelin couldn’t hold back the tears. Hot tracks rolled down her cheeks as she stared at the items now laid out across her counter.  It had been ages since anyone had done something like this for her since she’d felt loved.

“Ro—” she began.

“I wanted to come down myself but we got the approval—”

“Rowan,” she chuckled, shaking her head as she lifted the phone closer to her mouth. “I know.”

She sniffed, wiping her nose on the collar of her shirt.  Dealing with emotions had never been her strong suit.  It had taken nearly a year to tell Rowan she loved him for hells sake. 

“I know you won’t listen, but try not to eat all that chocolate tonight, yeah?” he said.

“Ha-ha,” Aelin mocked.  She rolled her eyes and cracked open the hazelnut truffles. “I make no promises.”

Rowan let out a laugh. “Hmm.  You going to tell me how your day really went?”

“No,” she said. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

And it didn’t.  because now at least, she could talk to him.  She could listen to him ramble on about whatever new quirk he’d learned in his studies.  She could listen to his steady breathing.  She could simply spend a few minutes with him. 

It wasn’t until she was drifting off to sleep with the phone tucked between her ear and her pillow that they finally disconnected, Aelin whispering a soft I love you and Rowan promising to see her soon.

She hated this routine of theirs but soon…soon they’d be reunited.

[rowaelinscourt]

this or that — ROWAELIN EDITION! reblog with your answers!

[goddess-aelin]

Hide And Seek

Day 19 of Rowaelin Month: A day with the kids

@rowaelinscourt

Masterlist

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none other than this is unedited and not at all coherent because I wrote it in the dead of night 😂

Aelin watched over her book as her daughter’s blond curls bounced by for the third time. Aelin lounged on the settee near the small, personal, library, romance novel in hand and a glass of iced tea by her side. These were the moments that Aelin lived for: the quiet times where she could take a breath, only interrupted by her daughter’s sweet giggles.

Only, she had no idea what her daughter was actually doing. Alma’s little feet pattered across the wooden floors, quieting as she receded down the hallway and getting louder as she came nearer. The three year old’s cycle seemed to last a few minutes, a ceasing of her footsteps entirely as she ran into the other room.

Aelin was just about to get up and see what exactly Alma was doing in the other room when a muffled “psst,” sounded from nearby. Aelin’s head swiveled, looking for the source of the sound. Her gaze landed on a cracked door to what she assumed was a supply closet considering its position in the middle of the hallway. As she got closer to the door, a familiar tattooed hand pulled her into the dimly lit room.

“Rowan! What are you–.” The rest of her sentence was muffled by a hand over her mouth.

“Shhhh! You’ll give us away!”

Aelin went to bite his fingers, still over her mouth, but Rowan always had a mind for exactly what she was thinking. He pulled his hand away just in time, glaring at her slightly.

“And what, pray tell, am I giving away exactly?” Aelin tried to school a bored tone to her voice but amusement still leaked through.

“Alma and I are playing hide and seek. I’m hiding, she’s seeking.”

“Rowan, you’re playing against a three year old. She’s never going to find you if you’re hiding in here with the door closed.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “She will. Our daughter is very smart. She has the mind of a future queen.”

Now it was Aelin’s turn to roll her eyes. “Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She’s three.” Even if Aelin was half-joking (her daughter was, indeed, very smart in her opinion), she couldn’t help but get caught on Rowan’s words: our daughter. Even years after the end of the war, after their second wedding, after having a baby together…sometimes it didn’t seem real. That she was here with her family, that she got to have all of this…that she deserved all of this.

Rowan, the perceptive buzzard, was again able to immediately tell where her thoughts went. “This is real, Fireheart.” His hands came up to cup both of her cheeks, the calluses of his palms a grounding comfort against the softness of her cheeks. “We are here. And we are hiding from our daughter, who we get to love every damn day. It’s real.”

Aelin could’ve sobbed. How he knew her so well, she’d never know. But she was certainly grateful for him. “Thanks, Buzzard.” She gently pulled him toward her, placing a gentle peck on his lips, a kiss that was over before it really started. Just as she was about to go back in for a more hearty kiss, the door was yanked open. Aelin pushed herself away from Rowan, as if they were getting caught by a parent for making out in a closet.

“I found you, papa!” Alma was giggling, her blonde curls bouncing up and down with her movements. “And mama! You’re here, too! I’s found you!”

Aelin swooped down to her little menace, picking her up and snuggling her in her arms. “You found us, little sunshine.”

A feline smile crossed over Alma’s features, looking a little too similar to Aelin’s own expressions. “I fink you guys were kissin’ in here.” Alma put her hands over her mouth and snickered.

Aelin glanced to Rowan, who was already looking back at her with eyebrows raised. “And who told you that?”

“Uncle Moon!” Aelin couldn’t help her chuckle at her child’s nickname for Fenrys. Alma heard him use his full name once and never let it go. “Uncle Fen” was less common than “Uncle Moon,” or “Moon Moon.”

“Well what if we were kissing in here? Huh, sunshine? What then?”

Alma crinkled her little nose, “YUCK! Mama and Papa no kiss!”

Aelin could feel her face mirroring Alma’s earlier expression. “And what if we give kisses to….” Aelin made a good show of thinking about her next words. “...ALMA!” At her words, Aelin peppered kisses all over Alma’s face, Rowan joining in from her other side. Her daughter’s sweet giggles would never get old. The girl didn’t calm down until they all emerged from the closet. Aelin’s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.

As they made their way back to their rooms, Alma gasped and looked right into Aelin’s eyes. “Mama, ice cream?”

“Hmm…I’m not sure. It’s pretty late already. Someone has to go to bed soon.”

Alma pouted slightly, her lip doing its job well. Aelin was about to give in when the little stinker turned her pout on her father. As their matching green eyes met, Rowan took one look at the pouty lip and was done for.

Aelin laughed as her husband sighed. “Fine, we can go get some ice cream.”

Alma bounced up and down, trying to escape Aelin’s grasp. She ran ahead of her parents, who just shared a look of both happiness and knowing they both had been played by a three year old. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

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 @mariaofdoranelle @dreamer-133 @elentiyawhitethorn @writtenonreceipts @shyvioletcat @aelinchocolatelover @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @athena127 @tothestarsandwhateverend @highqueenofelfhame

[highqueenofelfhame]

ROWAELIN MONTH DAY 11: SONGFIC

better late than never, right? this is kind of a mashup of tis the damn season and stick season.

warnings: language, sexual content

The irony wasn’t missed on her that she chose the middle of the night to drive into the sleepy mountain town. It was well below freezing and everything around her looked stripped from her very own soul: cold and dark. Almost like if she saw everything under the sun it would be too real and too hard to keep running from.

The thoughts were pushed, once again, to the back of her mind as she pulled into a long driveway that took her to a little cabin at the end of a gravel road. As soon as her car was turned off, she took a few moments to collect herself. In that short span of time, fog coated the windshield glass and she knew it would be a chilly evening all around. The interactions, the weather.

The part where she left.

Pocketing her keys and her phone, she slid from her SUV and approached the door. Snow crunched beneath her boots while two owls talked back and forth somewhere above her. Her breath was nothing more than puffs of vapor slipping from her lips as she raised her fist and knocked. It was so cold it stung her knuckles and left her rubbing her hands together to produce any sort of heat to bring them back to life.

“Rowan! It’s fucking cold out here,” she shouted, not worried about disrupting any neighbors. He didn’t have any for miles.

Aelin’s teeth began to chatter, the heavy cold settling into her bones as she waited. Just as she was nearly ready to kick the door, the porch light flicked on and it swung open, revealing a shirtless and slightly disheveled Rowan Whitethorn squinting down at her.

“You have a key.” She brought a gust of cold air with her as she breezed into the cabin, dropping her things on the coffee table.

“I lost it,” she lied. It was sitting in a landfil somewhere, rotting under thousands of pounds of garbage at this point.

“You were supposed to be here two hours ago.” Rowan stepped close enough that she could see goosebumps all over his arms and chest. Her eyes moved to his face and a fake smile forced her lips to attention.

“Work beckoned, traffic out of the city was terrible and all that.” It was getting too easy to lie to him– almost as easy as lying to herself. Maybe that’s why she was so good at it.

Aelin crossed the living room and put the kettle on, fingers tapping on the counter while she waited with her back to him. His presence sucked all of the air, along with her sanity, out of the room and being too close for too long while she wasn’t high off the touch of his hands was too much. She needed to be doing something.

“Oh, are we pretending you want to have tea and catch up? Not skipping straight to it?”

“We’re not pretending to do anything, I’m cold and want to warm up. You could have changed your mind since I clearly woke you up, and if that’s the case I’ll be out of your hair and on my way as soon as this is ready to go,” she rebutted, barely glancing over her shoulder.

“Gods, Aelin, I wish I could change my fucking mind when it came to you.” Rowan’s body was warm as he stood behind her, one arm bracing the counter and the other reaching around to turn off the stove before she was caged into the confines of his arms. She gulped down her anxiety, feet glued to the wooden floor as his lips grazed the back of her head.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The man behind her took a long deep breath as his fingers carefully pulled her hair to one side of her neck. Out of instinct her head tilted to the side and one of his fingers dipped beneath the fabric of her turtleneck and tugged down. Everywhere he touched was like she’d been branded, goosebumps following the trail of his fingers.

No word of admission would ever be muttered from her lips but she was touch starved for his hands on her body. The first graze of his lips against her neck had the smallest sigh filling the large room, and the first flick of his tongue elicited a moan. It was building up to be the perfect storm: his mouth on her neck, the pull of her shirt the mockery of what his hand would feel like around her throat. The final nail in the coffin was the low groan that Rowan let out at just tasting her skin. She knew he was dying for more, for everything, to be buried so deeply inside her that neither of them could think straight.

“Take it off,” she muttered, spinning in his arms while he pulled the shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor.

Aelin hopped up into his arms and he didn’t miss the catch, a hand on her lower back forcing her body to be flush with his while he carried her to his room blindly. Their kisses were feverish, punctuated with bitten lips and throaty moans. They didn’t even make it to the bed; Rowan was quick to push her back against the wall and sink to the ground in front of her. Clever fingers worked at the button on her jeans while she kicked off her shoes and the pants soon followed.

Standing in nothing but lacy underthings, Aelin combed her fingers through his hair. Warm lips pressed against her lower stomach while his fingers traced the shape of the lace on her hips.

“You wore this for me.” The growled words weren’t a question. Both of them knew it was the truth. Aelin had a knack for driving him insane and she hoped he couldn’t see through the wall she built up when it came to him. He drove her crazy, too.

Soon he tugged them down her body, slowly dragging the lace down her thighs. Everywhere he touched felt like sparks that would turn into a flame and engulf her entirely. She was proved right moments later when her thigh was over his shoulder, mouth pressed to her center.

Gods, his mouth, his tongue, the gentle nip of his teeth against her clit sent her spiraling into madness. Everything felt so good, too good. Waves of pleasure crashed over her as she cried out. Her fingers were knotted into his hair and daring him to stop, but he didn’t.

Rowan worked her until her legs were shaking, two fingers deep inside her. It was a tease of how his cock would feel and she needed it. She would wager they both did if the way he feasted on her was any indication.

“Please,” she gasped, pulling his head back by his hair and leaning down to press her lips to his in a messy kiss. Something about tasting herself on his mouth had her groaning again. “I want you inside me.”

“Fuck.” It was more of a hiss than anything else. Rowan was quick, stripping off his clothes and tossing her on the bed.

Aelin laid back, spreading her legs as he knelt between them. His thumb rubbed in smooth circles over her clit while his cock slid against her center. Rowan loved to tease her like this, loved to have her begging for pleasure only he could give her.

“Please,” she groaned, reaching down to line him up.

“Say it.” Fuck.

“I need you inside—” her desperate pleas were cut off by a sharp inhale that twisted into a moan as he slid into her. Gods above, nothing and no one could compare to this feeling. Every thought she had turned to ash. There was only Rowan.

Moments like this made her wonder why she ran from him, made her wonder why they didn’t and couldn’t work. Anything that felt this good had to be right. Nobody else could compare. Only ever him.

“You feel,” he breathed, leaning over her body to kiss her mouth, “So fucking good.”

Aelin swallowed his words, lifting her head to catch him in a searing kiss that threatened to undo her. All she could do was nod in agreement and allow him to take her hard and fast. Everywhere he touched was lit with flames, heat coursing through her body down to her toes. They curled when he hit a perfect spot inside her, a gasping moan escaping her swollen lips.

Rowan groaned, lifting her leg onto his hip to get even deeper inside her. Every thrust elicited a moan from her. Red nails scratched over his back and he bit the curve of her shoulder. He went faster and harder and Aelin knew he was close.

“Come for me,” she groaned, angling her hips up for him. Those words seemed to unravel him because he finished deep inside her.

In the aftermath he remained on top of her and inside her until he slipped out. Rowan flipped them and pulled her on top of him, strong hands rubbing up and down her back while they came down from the highest high Aelin had felt in a long time. Since the last time she saw him, if she was being honest. She had a knack of lying to herself, though.

“I need to go,” she whispered, raising onto her knees and smoothing her hair from her face. Rowan sighed heavily.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I—”

“It’s the middle of the night, you don’t have anywhere to be. You’re just running like you always do.” Aelin sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and gazed toward the window. He was right. “All you have to do is stay with me, Aelin. I’m not going anywhere.”

It was a conversation they’d had a million times over but the words never seemed to sink in. She didn’t like getting too close to people, they always left. Her parents had died in a car accident when she was young, her foster father was abusive. Even her romantic partners always decided she was too much and turned away.

Everyone except for Rowan. It had been ten years of tip-toeing around a relationship but her fears drowned everything else out. They dated in college until she got scared and broke things off. Yet he remained, patiently waiting for her to come around to the truth: that he wasn’t ever going to leave her or give up on her.

Rowan propped himself up on one shoulder and used his thumb to coax her lip from her teeth. Aelin’s eyes dropped to where he tangled their fingers together, how he lightly tugged on them.

“Baby,” he said softly, and Aelin curled up on her side next to him. With her head on his arm, she looked at his face. “You know I’m not going anywhere. You know this is a good thing. What are you scared of?”

“People change their minds.”

“I’m never going to change my mind about you. I would have already done it. I want you. I want us. I've been so devastatingly in love with you from the moment I saw you. There’s no one else for me but you.”

“Okay,” she whispered, fingers tracing lines over the tattoo on his chest. Maybe she could try. Maybe Rowan wouldn’t be like the others.

“Yeah?” With her ear on his chest, she heard the quickening beat of his heart. Aelin nodded, face nuzzling his side.

“I want it all, too.”

“You’ll be here in the morning?” Aelin chewed on her lip again. Everything in her told her to run because she could get hurt. But she was tired of running. In her bones, her soul, she was exhausted. She wanted to feel safe and secure and the only source of that lately was Rowan.

“Yes,” she breathed, a slight nod of her head.

In the safety of his arms, she drifted off to sleep.

@rowaelinscourt

[goddess-aelin]

😭😭😭😭😭 I love them your honor

How sweet is this fic!? I was so sad for aelin but then of course, Rowan pulled through like he always does 😉

Day 1 of Rowaelin Month! I thought it might be fun to revisit this one for Long Distance Surprise. Head over to @rowaelinscourt for more Rowaelin Month goodness.

~ Masterlist Pending ~

~~~~~

Aelin knew what she was getting into when she decided to enter a relationship with a global singing superstar. She was no stranger to fame herself with her highly successful talk show and it had been what had brought her and Rowan together in the first place. It still didn’t make certain aspects any easier. She could brush off the constant rumours plastered on the front of the tabloids, the lies for a quick sell didn’t bother her. They were both old hands when it came to the lack of privacy and they did the best they could in that regard. It was the time spent apart that took its toll, now more than ever. 

They were newlyweds and they were having a baby, a time they should have been basking in their overabundant love. But instead Aelin was alone and absolutely miserable about it.

This pregnancy wasn’t planned and that came with some obstacles. Rowan still had obligations, locked in months in advance, and he had done his best to work his way out of the non-essential ones. After they’d had their fun with the stunt on Aelin’s show they’d taken a fortnight off work. Those two blissful weeks were far too short and then Rowan had needed to leave for a tour in Rifthold. For more than a month Aelin had been moping around, missing her husband and trying not to think about how sad she was.  

Rowan hated it too. He was very vocal about his displeasure and the tirade he’d directed at Lorcan in their living room the night before he left had been one for the history books. Lorcan, the levelled headed manager than he was, calmly explained Rowan was under contractual obligations and the fallout from breaking those was not worth it. Rowan was ready to throw the remainder of his career out the window, but Aelin had managed to convince him that they could survive a few months, there was no reason to risk giving up doing what he loved. Right now Aelin had regrets about her practicality. 

She was alone in her dressing room, the call to be out on the soundstage was in about 15 minutes. The phone call she’d had with Rowan this morning had left her in tears and she could still feel the lingering effects. It was usually a video call, but Rowan explained he didn’t have enough service for it to work properly. He ran on her schedule so sometimes he only had a few minutes. Aelin had got used to seeing his face and giving him a bump update, soaking in his words of pure adoration he had for her and their baby. This morning she’d missed that, luckily she had been able to keep it together until she hung up the phone. As soon as the red button had been pushed Aelin had promptly burst into tears. Her face still felt puffy and her eyes felt heavy. If she didn’t have work to do she’d just sleep. 

It was the hormones, she was sure of it. They had to be the reason she was so teary all the time. Everything set her off, just last week one of her guests had told a story how they missed out on their favourite doughnuts and Aelin had been reaching for the tissues. That had been embarrassing to say the least and it had taken a lot of placating and a spicy kind of call with Rowan to make her feel better.

Just like that and her thoughts were back on Rowan. Aelin looked up to the mirror in front of her and watched as her eyes mist up her reflection, threatening to ruin the make-up that had just been finished. She had to pull herself together. Another hour and a half and she could hide in here, lock her door and cry her eyes out. Then she would go home and eat an entire block of chocolate and wait for her evening phone call with Rowan. It was as easy as that. Aelin stood, snapping a photo of herself and the bump, another ritual for her and Rowan while they suffered through this hellish long distance separation. The flower bouquet on her vanity that Rowan sent her every week was starting to wilt, she was more than confident another one would appear today. She was surprised it hadn’t already. 

By some miracle Aelin had made it through the whole show without shedding a tear despite her horrid mood. The segment on the local animal shelter had pushed her close to breaking, but she held out. Phone in hand, Aelin was headed back to her dressing room, ready to try and call Rowan despite knowing he wouldn’t be available. When the message tone pinged Aelin excitedly flipped the screen into view, hoping it was a text from her husband. It wasn’t. It was a reminder from her doctor about her scan appointment tomorrow. 

She was meant to get it when she was closer to 20 weeks, not 23 weeks that she was now. But Aelin, miserable and busy as she was, had been delaying it. Now her doctor was insisting and there was no real reason for Aelin to delay any longer. It was routine and the doctor had no real concerns so she hadn’t felt too guilty in waiting. Of course she had wanted Rowan to be there, and that might have been part of the subconscious reasoning behind her avoidant actions. This unfortunately was one of the sacrifices they had to make. It wasn’t like he was missing the birth and he promised he’d be able to video call her through the whole thing. They were meant to find out the gender, and that was a moment Aelin had wanted to share in real life. 

The first thing she noticed walking into her dressing room was the giant bouquet of kingsflame obstructing her mirror. It was damn hard to miss, even with the smallest of glances that she given the room. With a heavy sigh she turned and locked the dressing room door ready to follow through with her plan so that she could wallow in peace. 

“Locking the door without even knowing I'm in here?”

Aelin whiled, hand going to her stomach. Rowan was sitting on her couch, arm draped along the back of it and looking devastatingly handsome and right there. Not a grainy image, not a voice through a phone, the man was physically in her dressing room. 

“Should I be worried about your lapse in personal security?” he raised a brow at her, the corner of his mouth following. “Or did someone give me away?”

“Rowan?” Aelin said she didn’t know why it came out like a question, like maybe she had fallen asleep and was dreaming. 

“Aelin,” he said far too smoothly, his eyes darting over her. She saw the way his gaze softened when it landed on her stomach. 

They were locked in that moment for a heartbeat and then Aelin was striding forward as fast as she could manage. Rowan was on his feet a second later waiting to catch her once she threw her phone on the couch cushions. Aelin threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, breathing him in and just so happy to be holding him. Rowan’s arms gently wound around her too, and he pressed a single kiss to her head before resting his chin there. 

“What are you doing here?” Aelin asked, voice thick and tears already falling.

Rowan’s hands were gentle as he cupped her cheeks, wiping away the dampness from her cheeks. “It’s the scan tomorrow, I couldn’t miss that.”

Aelin broke completely, a sob shaking her entire body. Rowan just held her, running soothing hands down her back. He knew she just needed to let it out, he would wait. Her ever patient husband was everything she needed right now. 

“Come on, love. Let’s sit down,” Rowan insisted after a while. 

Aelin’s laugh came out on a bit of a choke, it had been five minutes and he was already fussing. Rowan sat down first, helping Aelin to ease down with him. She did the best she could to sit so she was facing him but her bump was making it a little difficult to get her legs how she wanted them. When she managed to get comfortable Aelin sighed, smoothing a hand over her dress. Rowan tracked the movement, his hand reaching out and resting on her stomach.

“You’ve gotten so big,” Rowan said, awe in his voice. If it hadn’t been for his pure amazement Aelin might have hit him, but he quickly realised his mistake, glancing up with a shy smile. “You know what I mean.”

She did. The last time she had seen Rowan, Aelin was really just starting to pop. Now she had a defined 23 week old bump. There had been some necessary wardrobe updates and she only saw more in the imminent future.

Aelin was never more thankful for her choice of couch. The seat was deep and the cushions were soft—it made her impending plans all that much easier. Tired of being so far away from Rowan, she shuffled over and despite the baby between them she manoeuvred herself to sit straddling his lap. Rowan was more than accommodating, helping her until they were both comfortable. It was a little difficult but thanks to Rowan’s hulkish size it made things easier, and Aelin managed to rest her head on his shoulder. 

“I missed you so much,” she sighed. 

“I missed you too,” Rowan said. 

Then he tilted her head up and kissed her and Aelin was cursing herself for crying and not getting to this sooner. She ran her hands over his shoulders, his neck, wanting him closer like she would never have to let him go again. Rowan wasn’t idle either, his hands were a heavy presence on her thighs, holding her steady as she took everything she needed from him. Aelin could feel the scratch of his stubble under her fingers and her lips as she kissed a path to his neck. She would have kept going but the baby moving startled her out of her plans.

Aelin sat back, hand on her stomach. “That still feels so weird.”

Rowan’s hand followed to cover hers. “I still won’t be able to feel it, right?”

”Not for a couple more weeks, but I know that won’t stop you from trying,” Aelin said. 

The smile that Rowan gave her had Aelin’s heart lodging in her throat and she was crying again.

“I’m fine,” Aelin assured her husband before he started fussing again. “It’s the hormones, I’m crying at everything these days.”

Rowan’s chuckle was light, refraining from wording the teasing that was in his eye. Then his expression turned thoughtful, head tilting as he looked at the door. 

“Why did you lock the door?” He asked. “You’ve never bothered before and we’ve been interrupted so many times. We have literally traumatised Lorcan.”

Aelin couldn’t look her husband in the eye and hoped he didn’t notice the flush on her cheeks. Being caught out about her crying session shouldn’t be this embarrassing. But she was so dedicated to keeping up the appearance that she was one hundred percent okay while he was away, she didn’t want him to know about this. 

“Aelin,” Rowan said, the name half scolding and half pleading. 

Aelin sighed, her head tilting to the ceiling. “I locked it so no one would walk in on me crying my eyes out.”

”Fireheart,” Rowan said sadly, like that admission broke his heart. 

“I just missed you so much.” Aelin looked at him and brought her hands to rest on his shoulders. “I just needed a good cry to make myself feel better.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Rowan said resolutely before his voice dropped lower in a way that had Aelin leaning closer on instinct. “Let me make you feel better.”

This time when Rowan kissed her, Aelin held nothing back. Nothing would distract them now, not when they were about to get utterly lost in each other. Today might not have started out terribly, but it was ending much better than Aelin could have ever predicted.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading!

[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

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

[leiawritesstories]

Practice

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 19: A Day with the Kids (canon) @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none!!! enjoy the fluffy fluffs!

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

“Mama?” A knock pattered softly against the half-open door of Aelin’s study, and a pair of irresistibly huge emerald eyes peered into the room. “May I come in, Mama?” 

Aelin set aside the stack of letters she was reading through and turned in her seat, opening her arms to her youngest daughter. “Of course you can, my little love.” 

Rielle Whitethorn Galathynius, all of seven years old, came slowly into the study, looking curiously around at the shelves of leather-bound books, journals, rolled-up maps, and scattered artifacts that lined the walls of the queen’s study. After a moment, though, she raced to her mother and all but threw herself into Aelin’s lap. Aelin laughed and caught her daughter, kissing her wild silvery-blonde curls. “Hi, lovey.” 

“You’re so busy, Mama,” Rielle murmured, small hands curling into the soft cotton of Aelin’s loose blouse. 

“Never too busy for my family,” Aelin promised. “What’s going on?” 

Her daughter’s eyes glossed over with tears. “When are Dada and Lana gonna come home?” 

Oh.

Aelin pulled her youngest close, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “Well, according to the letter that Lana just sent me, they should be home in a couple of days. Definitely by the end of the week.” Gently, she brushed a stray tear off Rielle’s cheek. “I know they’ve been away for a while, lovey, and I know Dada misses you too.” Rowan and Lana, their oldest daughter, had gone to Doranelle for a few weeks to visit Sellene and give Lana the chance to train at the Academy that the Fae Queen of the East had established for all young magic-wielders. 

Rielle’s lower lip quivered. “I miss Lana,” she whispered. The oldest and youngest Whitethorn children had a close bond, even though they were nearly fifteen years apart in age. 

Aelin kissed her baby girl’s forehead. “I know, lovey.” She glanced out the study’s wide, arching windows, looking down into the courtyard, and an idea sparked. “Do you want to go practice with me?” 

“Practice?” 

Nodding, Aelin curled a ribbon of golden flame around Rielle’s head. “Practice.” 

The little girl beamed and jumped off her mother’s lap, ecstatic. “Yes!” 

“All right.” Aelin stood up, reshuffled the papers on her desk, and left the study hand in hand with her daughter. Rielle chattered excitedly as they came out to the courtyard, where two of her siblings were already sparring with a mix of wooden practice knives and their magic. 

Light as air, Charlotte danced circles around her brother Brannon, flicking ice darts against his shield of hard air even as she slashed at him with the wooden dagger in her free hand. Bran fended off each stroke, but Aelin could tell that her son was starting to flag under the constant strain of Charlotte’s offense. He broadened his shield, pushing wind behind it to propel him forward against her onslaught, lunging at her with the short wooden sword in his left hand, but she swiftly gathered her darts into a long ice sword and batted away his lunge. 

“Watch your right, B!” Aelin called across the courtyard, and Bran flicked his sword sideways just barely in time to dodge the sly jab that Charlotte was sending towards his unprotected right side. 

“That’s…cheating,” he panted, clenching his fist so that his shield shrank in size. He wove a breeze around one of Charlotte’s legs and tugged, yanking her off balance. 

She swore at him as she wrenched out of his magic’s grasp. “Says the dirty cheat himself.” With a flick of her wrist, her ice sword shattered into tiny, bladed crystals that she shot at Bran’s shield. He grunted under the onslaught and focused hard enough on blocking that attack that he didn’t notice her swoop in with her wooden dagger and jab him hard in the thigh. He topped with a yelp, and she had her practice blade at his throat in seconds. “Do you yield?” 

He grumbled in frustration and tried to wriggle free, but she pinned him with ice around his wrists and ankles. “Gods damn it! I yield.” 

Charlotte retracted her ice and let Bran up. He shook out his wrists and begrudgingly gave her a short bow. “You would’ve had me if Mum hadn’t said anything,” she said graciously. 

Some of Bran’s grumpiness—inherited directly from his father—ebbed away. “Yeah, I guess.” 

Rielle tugged at Aelin’s hand. “I can practice too, Mama!” she declared. Aelin nodded encouragingly, and Rielle walked a few paces away, closed her eyes, and pressed her hands together in concentration. After a long moment, sparks flickered between her palms, and she carefully brought her hands apart, growing the ball of red-gold flame between them. Scrunching up her little face as she focused, she grew the flames into a sphere, then a ring, then two rings that turned in circles. 

“You’re doing so good,” Aelin praised, and she spun out a ribbon of blue flame, weaving it through her daughter’s flickering flame rings. Her magic brushed up against her daughter’s power, greeting it warmly. 

“Look, Mama!” Rielle’s grin was infectious as her flames fell apart into ribbons, and she wove them through the air. Her small fingers flexed with the strain of control, and she clenched her fists, trying to spool the flames back into a ball. 

But the red-gold fire just winked out. 

Frustrated, Rielle let out a half-sob, half-yell and slumped down to the sandy ground. Aelin snuffed out her flames and dropped down next to her daughter, tucking her fingertips under Rielle’s fallen chin and lifting her face. 

“That was so good, Rielle,” she said, comforting her daughter. “Lovey, when I was your age, I could barely hold onto the fire for a few seconds, and you’re already making shapes.” 

Rielle sniffled. “Really?” 

“Really,” Aelin reassured her. “Can you show me again?” 

Slowly, Rielle nodded, and she curled into her mother’s warm embrace as she clenched her small fist and brought forth a shuddering ball of flame. Aelin cupped her hand under her daughter’s and wrapped Rielle’s flame in her own wildfire, guiding the flames into the shape of a sword. Together, she and her daughter slowly brought the sword down as if striking a blow. 

And it struck a shield of ephemeral silver flame. 

Rielle’s flames flared bright and disappeared, and she shot across the courtyard in a blur of silver-blonde curls and eager shrieking. “LANA!” Indeed, her oldest sister leaned against the archway at the entrance to the courtyard, and as Rielle launched herself up, Lana caught her, hugging her tightly. 

“That was so good!” Lana praised, grinning at her little sister. 

“Really?” Rielle’s eyes were big and hopeful. 

“Really,” Lana beamed. Unlike either her mother or her sister, the crown princess of Terrasen wielded flames of silver—moonfire, a gift that ran parallel to the Galathynius wildfire. A gift that had lain dormant until the goddess Deanna co-opted Aelin’s body that fateful day on the ship, leaving behind a remnant of her gift that had passed down to Aelin and Rowan’s firstborn. 

“Lana’s right, little love.” Rowan wrapped his arms around both girls from behind. 

Rielle shifted from her sister’s arms to her father’s embrace, beaming. “I missed you, Dada!” 

“I missed you more, little love,” Rowan murmured. He swung her up into the air, and she shrieked with joy, a cascade of laughter echoing around the courtyard. 

Lana crossed the courtyard to Aelin and wrapped her arms around her mother. Aelin smiled into her daughter’s hair, marveling at how she had grown so tall. “How was the trip?” she asked. 

“It was…a lot, but in a good way.” Lana wove a thoughtful strand of sheer fire around her wrist. “Aunt Sel and the instructors at the Academy know so much, and I hardly had any time to absorb even a little bit of it.” 

Aelin raised a brow. “And the rest of it?” 

Pink crept into the edges of Lana’s cheeks. “The rest of it was fine.” 

Aelin chuckled and took pity on her oldest. “We can chat about it later, if you want.” 

“Hopefully without half the castle snooping on us,” Lana mumbled. She turned to go and greet the rest of her siblings—which meant spar with them, probably—but flashed her mother a sly wink and a little smirk. “I hope you won’t be too scandalized.” 

“I believe your father and I are plenty scandalous enough already.” Aelin winked right back. 

Lana groaned loudly and covered her eyes. “No!” She headed across the courtyard, seeking refuge from her mother’s naughty humor in the laughter and companionship of her siblings. 

Have we not scandalized her enough already? Rowan’s amusement curled around the corners of her mind. 

Never. Aelin winked slyly at her husband. One might think, though, that after twenty-two years and, perhaps a love of her own, our crown princess wouldn’t be quite so shocked. 

Do not get me started on Lana’s lover—life. On her love life. 

You know I heard that. 

You’ll forget about it soon enough. Rowan slid his arms around Aelin’s waist, one broad hand landing squarely on her hip, his thumb moving in a languid, heated touch. 

She dipped her fingers under the hem of his shirt, dragging her nails lightly across his smooth, warm skin and reveling in his tightly leashed inhale. Is that a promise, buzzard?

It is. That quickly, he turned her own game right back around at her as he brushed a teasingly light kiss against the side of her neck. 

Welcome home, love. She rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him, and he cupped the back of her head, supporting her. We missed you. 

Missed you more. He kissed her again. 

A shower of snowflakes burst over the queen and king’s heads, abruptly yanking them apart. From the other side of the courtyard, their children were alternately catcalling or groaning with theatrical disgust, though they’d all long since grown used to their parents showing affection. 

“Are you done yet?” Lana teased, snickering. 

Aelin laughed. “She’s got the commanding voice, for sure.” 

“She’ll be a wonderful queen one day,” Rowan agreed, his eyes soft, distant. 

Naturally, Charlotte chose that moment to drop a handful of conjured snow down Bran’s shirt, and he shrieked like a small child and chased her around the courtyard and into the gardens, as if the two of them were children rather than nearly adults. Rielle, seeing the fun, hurtled after her older siblings, yelling “You’re it! You’re it!” and Lana, with a flash of a wildfire grin, followed suit. 

“They’re a handful,” Rowan chuckled, pulling Aelin back against his chest. 

She smiled, the warmth of it radiating from her face. “They’re our handful, love.”

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@mysterylilycheeta

[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:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

[goddess-aelin]

He was a WHAT!? Omg

Of Rumors and Bodyguards

CO-WRITTEN WITH @leiawritesstories

Written for Rowaelin Month’s Forbidden Love day; @rowaelinscourt

We’re just two writers sharing little evil giggles and big plans, that’s all.

Warnings: swearing

Words: 1,2k

AELIN GALATHYNIUS CHEATING SCANDAL: SPOTTED IN INTIMATE MOMENT WITH BODYGUARD!!!

“QUEEN OF GLASS” STAR SHARED EMBRACE WITH SECURITY GUARD! DORIAN HAVILLIARD IN TEARS!

Aelin Galathynius caught cheating on Dorian Havilliard with bodyguard! Hollywood’s Darling Has How Many Darlings??? See New Photos

After the third ridiculous headline, Aelin dropped both the stack of magazines and her phone and flopped backwards on the hotel bed with a groan. Her publicist had woken her up with coffee and the tabloids, and she wished she had time to wake up before she had to look at the absolutely crazy stories that the gossiping tabloids spread. Even though she had been acting for years, she still wasn’t used to their prying and the constant cameras clicking in her face, even when she wasn’t trying to be noticed.

Besides, that garbage about her and her bodyguard? It was pure nonsense.

Well, mostly nonsense.

The photos they had taken were true enough, because Aelin had hugged her bodyguard last night. However, there was absolutely no romance involved—Whitethorn had been physically supporting her, keeping her on her feet.

Because he’s her bodyguard. He was guarding her body, that’s all—and a lot less than she would like.

She had been about to collapse after she had received a very brief, very shocking call on the phone she rarely used. The voice on the other end had been low, curt, and to the point. There was an accident during a job. We haven’t heard anything from them. That was two weeks ago.

The implication—they could be dead—made Aelin’s whole body go weak, and her security guard’s rapid reflexes were the only thing that had kept her upright. For a moment, she let him hold her, let him stabilize her, leaned into the solid strength of his Kevlar-covered chest. And then she pulled herself together, put away her burner phone, and stepped away from Whitethorn’s hug. She’d given him a nod of thanks, and he nodded back in quiet understanding.

Simple support, and not even an emotional one. That was all that had happened.

Leave it to the tabloids to take that moment out of context and start rumors that spread like wildfire across the Internet.

And Dorian—he was probably too busy with the boyfriend he was definitely hiding from the tabloids to notice the Rumor of the Day, but his publicist would surely give Aelin a piece of her mind soon.

Elide stuck her head into Aelin’s hotel room, rolled her eyes when she saw the magazines discarded on the floor. “You know they’re a load of crap,” the publicist said as she walked over and picked them up. “Also, I need you to read this one.” She flipped one of the magazines open and laid it across Aelin’s lap.

“Why?” Aelin glanced quickly down at the pages, scoffing at the grainy, zoomed-in photos splashed onto the glossy paper. “Gossip pisses me off, Ells.”

“Yeah, I know, but you need to read the actual words so you know how to respond when the people today ask you about it.” As usual, Elide had a good point.

“Fine.” Aelin frowned, but she began to read.

Is Aelin Galathynius Taken By Someone Else?!?!?

The “Queen of Glass” star was spotted last night in an intimate embrace with a man who sources say is her current bodyguard, Rowan Whitethorn, who has been on her security team since March, when Galathynius began this press tour for the newest season of the Netflix hit series.

Sources report that Aelin and her co-star Dorian Havilliard are often seen getting cozy together outside of press appearances, and an exchange in a recent interview confirmed that the pair’s wild, explosive chemistry on-screen has spilled off the screen too. Fans all over the world were overjoyed to hear of the star’s new romance.

But the photos from last night tell an entirely different story. Could it be that the actress has more than one man after her heart? Or could she be keeping something secret?

Last night, sources say that Galathynius was walking back to her hotel with Whitethorn as her escort when she stopped briefly in a nearby park. Only minutes later, she was spotted in her bodyguard’s arms! Looks like a romance is brewing, or even already in progress! After all, her incredibly popular character in “Queen of Glass” spent the whole first season secretly in love with Dorian’s character until they finally brought their romance to light. Is life imitating art?

According to an eyewitness, the embrace lasted for several minutes before the actress moved away from her bodyguard and began walking to her hotel again. At this time, we do not know any additional details, but with the ongoing press tour, we are certain that she will make an announcement soon. Keep your eyes on our social media for the latest, hottest updates!!

“They’re such vultures.” Disgusted, Aelin threw the magazine at Elide, who caught it before it could smack her in the stomach.

Elide huffed. “It’s their job to stir up the people. Be prepared for at least half the interviewers today to ask you about this.” She launched into her daily spiel about what Aelin should expect during the press that she, Dorian and a few of their castmates were filming. “And above all, don’t you dare let Dorian answer any of the questions they’re going to ask about the plot of this season. You know better than anyone how much of a spoiler machine he is. He gets one spoiler this time. One.”

“I might have to tape his big mouth shut,” Aelin joked. “Bet the press would eat that up.”

“Honestly, it might give them something else to yap about.” Elide straightened, one finger up as she recalled something. “Pap walk! We’re doing a round of pap walks to get their attention somewhere else. I’ll text the details, but so far…”

Elide flipped through her notes, and Aelin was about to ask a few follow-up questions when there was a rapid, firm knock on the door.

“What?”

Rowan Whitethorn cracked open the door and stepped into the room. “They’re ready for her in hair and makeup.” He scanned the room, his gaze sharp, alert. “Morning, Miss Galathynius.”

His face was perfectly neutral like it always was, making it impossible to tell if he knew anything about the new rumors. He probably did, but Rowan was so professional, it got unnerving sometimes.

“Morning, Sergeant Whitethorn.” He’d never been in the military, but she called him “Sergeant” anyway. Mostly because it made him delightfully grumpy.

True to form, he frowned, but instead of his usual snarky retort, he just held the door open for her and walked her across the hall to another room, this one full of stylists. She was swept into their whirlwind, and by the time she turned around, her bodyguard was once again outside the door, on watch for any potential mishaps. Rowan really was an excellent security guard.

Too bad he was also a highly wanted criminal.

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @mariaofdoranelle-fics or joining my (sometimes glitchy) one general tag list!!

TAG LIST

@aelinchocolatelover

@anarchiii

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@booksandteaonarainydayislife

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@elizarikaallen

@emily-gsh

@empress-ofbloodshed

@fangirlprincess09

@fauna-flora11

@goddess-aelin

@gracie-rosee

@leiawritesstories

@lululululululuop

@mis-lil-red

@nayaniasworld

@renxzs

@rowanaelinn

@s-uppertime

@sarahjswift

@staghorn-mountains

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@thegreyj

@throneofus7

@violet-mermaid7

@wishfulimaginings

[leiawritesstories]

Stunning

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 7: All Dressed Up @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: flirting, swearing, rich people talk, badly concealed horniness, NSFW content, a few fun little hidden jokes teehee

A/N: hi hello this is technically for tomorrow BUT it's getting posted now because i'm taking the LSAT tomorrow and i'm going to be way too mentally exhausted to function, yayyyyy 😃 also, i might disappear for a little while after the exam, bc i also just started my senior year of college and it's a bit busier than i thought lol. anyway.....enjoy!!! at your own discretion please :)

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

If the club was fancy, its VIP lounge was a study in luxury. A pair of black-suited bouncers flanked the door, their dark-shaded eyes constantly scanning the club, scrutinizing each and every person who approached the lounge doors. Rowan handed over the thick square of embossed ivory paper from his tux jacket pocket and nodded amiably at the bouncers as they checked his invitation and waved him in. Conspicuous as he’d felt before, when he was walking through the club in a custom three-piece designer tux, he felt positively unremarkable among the sea of haute couture that thronged the VIP lounge, all of them centered around a tall, elegant woman in a fitted sheath dress of molten gold with a slit that crept dangerously high up her right leg. Her head tipped an inch sideways with the echo of her laughter, and she rested one graceful hand on the forearm of the handsome man she was talking to, crimson-tipped fingernails contrasting sharply with his black jacket. 

Aelin Galathynius. 

The only daughter of perhaps the most influential voices in Terrasen’s political scene, Aelin filled the spotlight like she was born to it. Which she was. She’d been appearing in front of press cameras and journalists practically since her birth because Evalin Ashryver, the first female secretary of state, had wanted to show the world that a woman could have both a successful high-profile career and a family. Furthermore, her father was Rhoe Galathynius, the deputy prime minister, and he had personally taught his only daughter how to handle the press. 

At twenty-nine, Aelin was one of the most recognizable faces in Terrasen, though that was mostly due to her success as a former professional volleyball player and current coach, as well as an incredibly generous philanthropist, rather than her parents’ collective renown. Rowan had known Aelin since high school, had harbored a crush for her practically as long, and since he was also a retired athlete and the head of a foundation that supported talented young athletes whose families couldn’t afford their sports, he often crossed paths with Aelin at events like this one. 

She was chatting with Dorian Havilliard, the oldest son of Prime Minister Havilliard and a childhood friend of hers, when Rowan strolled over and nodded cordially at the dark-haired man. “Good to see you again, Havilliard. Do you mind?” 

“Not at all!” Dorian air-kissed Aelin’s cheeks. “Whitethorn, good to see you as well. I’ll have my assistant reach out to yours to schedule a proper meeting, yes?” He had recently indicated his interest in sponsoring one of Rowan’s foundation events. 

“Sounds perfect.” Rowan shook Dorian’s hand and pretended not to notice as the other man stage-whispered “he’s so hot” to Aelin before he left the two of them alone. 

“Rowan.” Aelin’s crimson lips curled into a smile. “What brings you here? I thought you usually avoided these little parties like the plague.” 

“I try,” he said dryly. “Unfortunately, there are several key donors here, and my VP practically threatened to strangle me if I didn’t show up and have a drink with them.” 

She chuckled and took a delicate sip of the champagne in her hand. “I wasn’t aware I was one of your key donors, Rowan.” 

“Maybe I’m using you as a human shield,” he teased. 

“I’m afraid I’m more of a spear than a shield,” she said with a wink. “That means I’ll charge at your big scary donors with you if you can work up the balls to ask.” 

“Can you blame me for hesitating?” He swiped a glass of champagne from a passing server’s tray and locked his gaze onto Aelin as he took a deep sip. “You look stunning in that dress, Aelin, and I’m afraid that’s all anyone will see.” 

“Ah, stop it.” She swatted his arm. “I’ll get their attention, and you’ll capture it like you always do with your cute little big-old-shy-guy smile and blush.” His cheeks heated, and she grinned. “There, you see? One of your usual protests that you ‘don’t do as much as you want to do’ and you’ll have those donors eating from the palm of your hand.” 

“I’d like to eat you from the palm of my hand,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “You’re sure?” 

“Of course.” She set down her champagne and looped her arm through his. She lowered her voice to a throaty whisper. “And if you want to eat, Whitethorn, all you have to do is ask.” 

His pants tightened. He swallowed thickly, forced himself to think about the donors in order to control his traitorous body, and covertly poked Aelin in the ribs. “Quite a naughty thing to say, Aelin.” 

She winked lazily at him. “We’re at a club, Rowan. Certain things happen at clubs.” 

“Such a brazen woman.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, and his lips just barely brushed her neck. “What kind of things are you thinking about, hmm?” 

“Schmoozing with donors, for one.” She laughed softly at his disgruntled expression and brushed a megawatt smile across her face as they approached one of the couples who were frequent donors to his foundation. “Connall, Sorscha, delighted to see you here!” 

Connall had been one of Rowan’s teammates, and he’d retired a year before Rowan so he could spend more time with his wife, Sorscha, and their family. “Surprised you made it, old man,” he joked as he clasped hands with Rowan and affectionately thumped him on the back. 

“Trust me, we both are,” Rowan deadpanned. “Sorscha, you look lovely as always. How are the little ones?” 

“Growing up too damn fast,” Connall sighed. 

Sorscha nodded in agreement. “Lyla started walking the other day; I turned around for five seconds and she made it into the other room. I almost had a heart attack.” She laughed. “And Gray has been obsessed with taking care of the garden, except that he doesn’t know the difference between the weeds and the herbs.” 

“Little guy brought his mama a fistful of ‘bad weeds’ that were actually dill,” Connall added, snickering. “Oh, and James is doing fantastic at the football camp.” 

Rowan smiled. “That’s amazing! How is it having him stay with you?” One of the projects he was trying to start involved pro athletes having orphans and foster kids stay with them when they participated in training camps for their sports. 

“We love it.” Con grinned down at his wife. “He’s still a little shy with the kids and he basically lives out of his duffle bag, but he’s a lot more talkative now.” 

“He seems more at ease,” Sorscha said. “It could be that he’s made friends at the camp, or that my son pretty much idolizes him because he’s a big boy who plays sports, but I think he’s also just more… comfortable.” 

“That’s almost exactly what we were hoping would happen.” Rowan squeezed Aelin’s hand, and she beamed up at him. “Good. Well, I hope this helps convince the board.” 

Con thumped Rowan’s shoulder. “We’re in your corner, man. I’d be happy to tell the board about our success if you need.” 

“I just might take you up on that.” Rowan shook Con’s hand and accepted Sorscha’s hug. “Thank you so much.” 

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Aelin teased as they walked away, heading for another donor that Rowan had spotted. “You’re a natural—just get them talking about how much they want to help these kids or how much they love what they’re already doing, and they’ll give you their support.” 

His hand slid to her lower back, guiding her through the throngs of people. “Wish I had half as much confidence as you have, Ae.” 

“Stop that,” she chided. “Rowan, your foundation is hugely successful because of you. That much is evident, and I’ll keep trying to convince you of that until you accept it.” 

“I know a few ways you could convince me,” he murmured, half to himself. 

Her smile melted into lazy dangerousness, and sparks kindled behind her stunning turquoise eyes. “Do you, now?” 

His hand curled possessively around her hip. “I do.” Heat raced through her blood at the weight of his touch. “Dance with me.” 

“Of course.” 

They stepped into the swirl of couples dancing in the middle of the lounge, and Aelin gasped quietly when Rowan pulled her so close that she was almost flush against him, wrapping one arm around her waist with his hand on her hip and lacing his free hand with hers. So close she could feel the thrum of his heartbeat, she draped her free arm around his neck, fingers toying with the collar of his pressed black shirt. The song changed, shifting to a deep, pounding bass and sultry vocals, and her body moved in near-perfect tandem with his as he led her through the dance. 

“All that hockey training certainly gave you good moves, Ro,” she teased, flicking her gaze up to his through her lashes. 

He smirked languidly and rotated his hips in a borderline lustful circle. “And all your volleyball training probably gave you strong legs.” He tipped his head down and purred his next words into her ear. “But how long until they start shaking?” 

“Dream on, hockey boy,” she whispered, even as desire uncoiled between her legs at the sinful rasp of his voice. 

“Every night.” Her breath caught at the admission in those words, and when he brushed a thumb across her lips, she leaned into the touch. Her nod was confirmation enough, and he replaced his thumb with his lips, kissing her softly at first and then deeper, slower, the stroke of his tongue almost too slow for the heat pounding in her blood. 

In a hazy blur, they were in the club’s bathroom, Aelin sucking in a sharp breath as Rowan yanked her dress up around her waist and planted her bare ass on the marble countertop. He chuckled, a low dark gravelly rasp that curled up her spine like smoke, as his eyes traced down her body and discovered her lack of underwear. “Dangerous move, darling,” he murmured, attaching his lips to her neck and pressing his calloused thumb directly onto her clit. “No panties? Anyone could see you, Aelin.” 

“Anyone—ahh, Rowan!—isn’t going to see,” she panted, her words broken up with gasps and hitched breaths. “Just…fuck, just you.” 

“That’s what I like to hear.” Free hand reaching down the front of her dress to tease her hardened nipples, he thrust three fingers into her, reveling in her broken moan and the way her eyes scrunched shut in pain-edged bliss. “Hold still for me, pretty girl.” Wordlessly, she nodded, bracing her hands on the countertop to stabilize herself. He smirked and kissed her hard, swallowing her moans, and pumped his fingers roughly, bringing her to her first orgasm of the night within a few minutes. He worked her through the high, teasing her sensitive clit just enough to make her whimper when he withdrew his glistening fingers and licked them clean, gaze locked on her the whole time. 

“Please, Ro.” She whispered his name, her plea a raspy breath. “Need you to fill me up.” 

“Good girl.” He pushed his trousers and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, and her eyes went wide and dark as she stared at his size. 

“Th-that…” Her mouth went dry. “That’s not going to fit.” 

He brushed his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. “It will, pretty girl. Trust me, it will.” He pushed one of her dress straps off her shoulder and palmed her breast. “Your pretty pussy took my fingers so well, Ae, getting all ready for my dick.” 

Her breath escaped in a shuddering groan. “How is it so hot when you say filthy things like that?” 

“Because you’re my dirty little good girl.” He smirked and tilted her chin up to brush a bare feather of a kiss over her smudged lipstick. “Can you stay quiet for me?” She nodded, and he kissed her as he dipped his fingers into her cunt again, working her in long slow strokes. When she wrapped her hand around his wrist and whispered that she was ready, he lined his cock up and pushed into her slowly, savoring the tight grip of her pussy around his dick and the muffled whimpers she made as she struggled to stay quiet while accommodating the size of his velvet steel schlong. 

“Rowan,” she choked out, near desperate. “Please!” 

“Good fucking girl,” he groaned, and he rocked into the cradle of her hips, thrusting with increasing force. Gripping her waist, he pinned her to the counter and fucked her hard, and she buried her face in his shoulder to muffle the uncontrollable moans that tore from her throat. The soap dish clattered to the floor, and he just kicked it underneath the sink and thrust harder, hurtling them both towards climax. Aelin tipped her head back and rasped out his name as she came, ecstasy written all over her features, and he groaned her name as he came inside of her. As their bodies stilled, he gently pulled out, smirking at the sight of his rowillymilk dripping down her legs. 

She trailed a finger between her thighs and lifted it to her lips, licking their cum off and humming softly in pleasure. “Delicious.” 

He growled and pulled his pants back up and lifted her off the counter, stopping to fix her dress before he laced his fingers with hers and led her out of the bathroom and back through the flashing strobe lights of the lounge and out a side door. “Your place or mine?” 

“Mine.” She flicked a heated glance at him from under her darkened lashes. “Got a few toys I like to use in my bedroom.” 

“Get in the car.” Rowan pulled the passenger door of a sleek black SUV open with more force than strictly necessary, the muscled lines of his body tense, the gleam of his eyes predatory. Aelin touched the smudged lipstick at the corner of her mouth, wiping it away as she slid gracefully into the car. He closed the door and went around to the driver’s side, and she sucked in a half-surprised, half-aroused gasp when he accelerated down the dark, empty city streets with a hand splayed on her thigh. Heat pulsed between her legs, radiating outward from the warm, firm weight of his palm atop her leg. 

She at least had enough of her wits to direct him towards her townhouse. “Turn left here,” she directed, guiding him down the familiar path to her home. “First right, then second right.” He navigated the turns with expert precision, and it was only minutes before he’d pulled into the single parking space marked out in front of her property. 

A sudden, thick silence blanketed the vehicle, and Aelin had the urge to caress Rowan’s face when she caught sight of the faint uncertainty nearly buried in his fiery gaze. So she did, gently tracing her fingertips across his cheekbones. “Welcome to my home, Ro.” She winked lazily. “Want me to show you my bedroom?” 

His lingering hesitation melted into molten, commanding desire. “That’s my good girl.” The praise flowed over her like sunlight. “Can you get out of the car, Ae, or do you need to be carried?” 

“Someone has a high opinion of himself.” She clicked her tongue and smoothly climbed out of the car. He prowled around from the driver’s side, banded one thickly muscled arm around her waist, and pressed her back against the door. 

“Still so naughty,” he murmured. “What should we do about that, hmm?” 

“Why don’t you come inside and show me?” she whispered right back. 

He kissed her, and it would have been sweet if not for the cum sticking to her thighs. “Good girl.” Hand in her hand, he followed her into her townhouse, locked the front door behind them, and waited all of twenty seconds for her to drop her small purse before he hauled her over his shoulder and stormed up the stairs. She managed to point him towards her bedroom door, and he set her onto her bed with uncharacteristic gentleness. 

And tore her dress down the middle. 

She was halfway through an outraged gasp when he yanked her hips to the edge of the mattress, dropped to his knees, and licked her dripping pussy. Her outrage kindled into lust, and she plunged her fingers into his hair, shoving him closer as his tongue drew harsh patterns on her needy clit. Through the incoherent, garbled whimpers and moans streaming from her throat, she managed to reach sideways and grab her wand vibrator from her bedside table and switch the toy on before tracing the buzzing tip around her stiff, aching nipples. 

“What,” Rowan growled, “do you think you’re doing, hmm?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just took the vibrator from her and replaced his tongue with the toy, teasing her cunt with too-light touches and biting kisses, ignoring her breasts altogether. “Did I say you could touch yourself, Ae?” 

“N–no, sir,” she whispered. Calling him sir had been impulsive, but it felt so right. 

He swore filthily and shoved his pants off, letting his massive meat pole spring free. “That’s correct. Now be a good girl and put your hands above your head.” The vibrator skimmed her throbbing pussy and dipped farther back, circling the rim of her ass, and her fists curled into the pillows above her head as words failed her. He seemed pleased with her obedience, because he kept the toy there as he returned his mouth to her cunt and devoured her, tongue spearing into her and teeth scraping her most sensitive parts. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes before stars exploded across her vision as she came so hard she shook with the force of it. 

He turned off the vibrator, threw it across the floor, stripped out of the rest of his clothes, and hauled her up the bed, kissing and nipping up her body as he went. “Don’t hold back,” she breathed, the words shaky from the last waves of her orgasm but no less confident. 

“Scream for me, pretty girl,” was all he said in response, and he flipped them over and pulled her down onto his cock. She was so wet that her cunt slid down effortlessly, and he didn’t give her any time to adjust before he lifted her hips up and down, helping her ride his dick at a frenetic pace. “Fuck, Aelin!” 

“Fuck, Rowan!” she screamed in tandem, head falling back in bliss. He sat up, deepening the angle, and fucked her relentlessly, until she was a mess of broken cries of his name. 

“Come with me,” he ordered, and he pinched her clit sharply. She screamed his name to the gods as she shattered, and he came with her, burying himself deep. He rocked his hips gently as she shook, working her through every last second of the drawn-out orgasm, milking his own pleasure. As she calmed and rolled off of him, sprawled onto her stomach, he ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing the mussed strands. “So fuckin’ good, Fireheart.” 

She turned onto her side and grinned, linking her fingers with his. “Happy anniversary, my love. Should we do that again next year?”

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

[leiawritesstories]

Best Dream Ever

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 3: Idiots in Love @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: some swearing, alcohol, ridiculous amounts of fluff

Enjoy!!!

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

Why the hell is someone knocking on my door at eight p.m.? Aelin grumbled to herself as she reluctantly walked to her front door, wine glass in hand. It had been a heck of a work week, and she was a grown woman who was entitled to her post-work drink. She rose up onto her tiptoes to look through the glass panes near the top of the door and did a double take when she found her neighbor from down the street standing on her porch, looking for all the world like he was about to bolt. 

“Rowan?” She opened the door. “You alright?” 

He ducked into her house, pushed the door closed, and looked frantically out the window, chest heaving like he was afraid for his life. “I am now, I think.” 

She raised a brow. “Look, I know we’re neighbors and friends and all that, but seriously. What the hell?” 

He held up his hands. “I’m sorry, Ae, I really am. I texted you like fifteen times.” 

“Ah, shit.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and waved it in front of him. “Dead, I’m sorry. Ran out of battery on the way home from work and honestly haven’t wanted to charge it.” 

“Fair enough.” He walked beside her down the hallway to her living room and flopped down on the couch he liked, groaning in relief when his head hit the throw pillows. 

“Long week for you too?” 

He grumbled something incomprehensible and moved the pillow off of his face. “Have you ever had six adult men show up at your door armed with gods-only-know how much booze and zero warning and proceed to set up shop in your house?” 

“Can’t say I have,” she drawled. 

“Wouldn’t recommend.” He raked his hands through his messy, pale hair. “I made the mistake of telling the guys that I got that deal with the MLB team, and they apparently decided that this was their sign to come into town and crash my weekend. Seems like I ‘don’t celebrate right,’ whatever the fuck that means.” 

Aelin hid her smile behind her wine. “Which one of the twins said that?” 

“Fen, of fucking course,” Rowan said dryly. “Who else d’you think could convince all the guys to drop everything and converge on my house for a weekend? We’re not in college anymore, not like he understands that.” 

“I’m sure he’ll come around eventually,” Aelin offered. “For now, though, you know you always have a place here. Just…you don’t need to crash for the night, do you?” 

Pink tinged Rowan’s cheeks, and he slipped his backpack off of his shoulders. “Well, now that you mention it…” 

She laughed and stood up. “You know where the spare room is, Ro. Want a beer or something?” 

“Sounds fuckin’ amazing.” He went down the hall to drop off his bag in her spare room and returned a few minutes later in sweatpants and an old university t-shirt. Gratefully, he took the beer bottle from her hand and tipped half its contents down his throat. “Fuck, that’s good.” 

“It’s from the case of ‘good stuff’ you dumped in my garage three weeks ago,” Aelin said, pairing her words with a poke to his side. “Quit using me as your beer overflow, Whitethorn.” 

“Who else could I trust not to drink it?” he grinned, slinging one arm around her shoulders. “If I let one of the guys keep it at their place, it’d be gone in a day, never mind that it’s a small batch craft brew that needs at least thirty-two hours of chilling before you can really get the tasting notes.” 

“Snob,” she teased, turquoise eyes sparkling with laughter. 

He smirked. “It’s called good taste, Ae, and you—” 

A fist thudded rapidly against Aelin’s front door. 

She looked at Rowan, and he looked back at her, eyes wide. “Please don’t let them in,” he whispered, and he took off down the hall to hide in the spare room. 

“Men,” she sighed. She strolled down the hallway, peered out the window, and cracked open her door just a few inches. “What the hell do you want, Moon Moon?” 

Grinning broadly and probably tipsily, Fenrys tried to lean on her doorframe and stumbled sideways before regaining his balance. “Where’s Rowie?” 

Aelin fixed the blonde man with a flat, unimpressed look. “Ask me in normal-people words, Fenny boy.” 

Fenrys inhaled dramatically. “My dear darling Aelin, have you seen Rowan lately? We came to his place to celebrate him getting the MLB deal, but we’d barely been there for an hour before he said he needed to grab something from the store. Haven’t seen the guy since.” 

“Does this look like the store, Moon Moon?” she deadpanned. 

“Nobody thought he was actually going to the store!” Fen protested. He tried to push open her door, but she clicked her tongue and fixed him with a look that made him stop in his tracks. 

“Fen, you’re a good friend, but this is my first work-free weekend in months, and if I have to miss any more of 10 Things I Hate About You, I will eviscerate you with my work heels. Okay?” 

“Leaving!” he yelped. “Text us if you know where Rowan is, though, yeah?” 

“You’re the ones at his place, you can text him,” she returned. “Goodnight, Moon Moon. Don’t fall off any rooftops again.” 

“It was one time!” he yelled, but she’d already closed the door. 

Aelin went back down to her living room, plopped onto the couch, and grumbled something rather unpleasant about the amount of men who banged on her door at all hours of the day. “Coast is clear, Whitethorn,” she called. 

He came back into the living room a minute later. “Thanks for handling him, Ae.” 

“Anything for a little bit of peace, right?” His huff of a laugh tugged at a thread low in her stomach, but she ignored the odd sensation. “Let me know if you need anything that you can’t find. I’m gonna go upstairs and watch brain-rotting chick flicks until I fall asleep, but you’re more than free to watch one of those docuseries you have such a hard-on for.” 

“Aelin!” Rowan’s face reddened, and he choked out her name in a shocked, strangled cough. “Gods, why’d you have to say it like that?” 

“Because you’re too cute when you’re all flustered, buzzard,” she laughed. “G’night!” She headed upstairs to her bathroom, and after a very long shower and a solid half hour of carefully applying her skincare, she tugged one of her favorite nightgowns over her head and rolled into her bed. She could pick up the faint sounds of water running in the guest bathroom down the hall, and coupled with the soft whir of her ceiling fan, she was soon asleep. 

Only to pop awake not quite three hours later. 

Groaning, she rolled onto her other side and closed her eyes, taking deep steady breaths to try and encourage her restless mind to quiet down. As soon as she managed to quiet her roiling mind, though, her stomach rumbled. 

Traitor. 

Aelin flopped onto her stomach and ignored the growly rumble it emitted in protest, but the more she tried to fall back asleep, the more her body resisted. Finally, in defeat, she muttered a string of curses under her breath and rolled out of bed. She pushed her feet into her slippers, flicked on her bedside lamp, and crept out of her room and down the hall. She took the stairs slowly, because at least half of them creaked loud enough to wake the whole street if stepped on too firmly, but she eventually made it out to the kitchen. The glowing numbers on the oven clock flashed 1:55, taunting her with the ridiculous hour. 

Quietly, Aelin pulled open the pantry door, scanning the shelves quickly and finding nothing that sounded particularly good. She moved over to the fridge and glanced inside, huffing in irritation when she didn’t immediately think of anything quick to grab. After a few minutes, she gave up and opened the freezer, her fingers closing around the pint carton of ice cream tucked into the door shelf. She got a spoon from the drawer and sat down at one of the barstools at the high-top counter, not bothering with a bowl. 

She was only a few bites into the deliciously rich triple chocolate when heavier footsteps creaked on the stairs and a very sleepy, very mussed Rowan half-stumbled into the kitchen. 

His bleary gaze wandered around the kitchen, skipping over her once before snapping back to where she sat with her ice cream. The corners of his mouth tipped up, and he mumbled unintelligibly to himself. “Don’t fall over,” she heard him mumble, and he slid his hand along the countertop to guide his steps as he crossed the kitchen. Straight over to her. 

“Hey, you.” She couldn’t be entirely sure whether he was awake or sleepwalking, so she left her spoon in the carton of ice cream and stood up. “Having a good dream, Ro?” 

“’Bout to get even better.” His arms looped around her waist, and he dipped his head and kissed her. A soft hitched gasp broke from her lips, and she slid one hand up the back of his neck into his messy hair and angled his face so she could kiss him properly. It was a long, drawn-out moment before he pulled back, head tilted back to catch a gulping breath, and his eyes snapped back to hers, clear and aware. “Best dream ever.” 

She blinked slowly. “Ro, are you asleep?” 

“I gotta be.” He passed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “It’s the only time I get to kiss you like this, Ae.” 

“Rowan,” she breathed, heart skipping in her chest. “I…I’m awake.” 

His jaw went slack, and he impulsively grabbed her hand. “Pinch me.” 

“What?” 

“Pinch me, Ae. Gotta know if I’m still dreaming.” Obligingly, she pinched the skin at the crease of his elbow, and he let out a tiny, high-pitched squeak. “Fuck, that—am I awake?” 

“I’d imagine so.” Her eyes traveled slowly downwards, until they landed on their linked hands. “This wasn’t what I was expecting when I came down for midnight ice cream.” Uncertainty clouded his face, and she squeezed his hand. “It’s better.” 

Hope, bright and buoyant, broke free in his grin. “Really?” 

“Really.” She closed the distance between them, rolled up onto her tiptoes to meet his lips. “I think I’ve had this dream before, but it’s better in real life.” And she kissed him.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

[leiawritesstories]

We're Really Doing This

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 28: Eloping @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: some swearing, innuendo

A/N: ✨happy birthday to me✨ here have a fun little elopement fic!! enjoy!!

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

“And do you, Aelin Galathynius, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?” 

Aelin looked at Rowan, grasping his hands. “Are we really doing this?” she whispered, her breath hitching. 

He grinned at her, eyes bright. “We’re really doing this.” 

The officiant cleared his throat politely, and Aelin snapped her attention back to the ceremony. With a smile bright enough to shame the sun, she met Rowan’s gaze. “I do.” 

~

Three Hours Earlier

“So, to clarify, you’re actively trying to give your entire family and his entire family a massive heart attack?” 

“That’s exactly what we’re going for.” Aelin smirked at her best friend. “Are you in, maid of honor?” 

“Hell yes!” Lysandra kicked her feet giddily. “We need to go find you a dress like, now!” 

Aelin laughed. “One step at a time, Lys.” 

“Bullshit.” The brunette leapt to her feet and caught Aelin’s hand. “I wasn’t expecting this at all, since you and your mom have been planning a big-ass wedding ever since you and Ro got engaged, but you go, girlie. And if it’s your wedding day, you need a dress. Now.” 

“What if I told you I already have a dress?” Aelin and Rowan had gotten engaged just over a year ago, and Lys was right—practically since the day Aelin came home with that emerald glittering on her left hand, Evalin Ashryver had been in full event-planning mode. 

Lys stopped in her tracks. “You do not.” 

“Oh, I do.” Aelin’s grin turned wicked as she crossed the hotel room and opened the closet, revealing a garment bag that she unzipped. With a flourish, she pulled the dress out of the bag, and it unfurled in a spill of white silk. 

“Holy fuck!” Lys stared at the sleeveless sheath dress, examining its beautiful tailoring and the slit running up one seam. “Where did you get that?” 

“Ells knows people.” Aelin shrugged. Elide Lochan, another of her close friends and one of her bridesmaids, worked as a modeling agent, and she was always picking up clothes from various designers that she gave to her friends. “I had a few alterations done, and here we go.” She hung the dress up and picked up a smaller, flat box. “And I have my mom’s veil, so she can’t be too mad at me for defying tradition.” 

Lys laughed at that. “I still stand by my heart attack statement.” 

“Oh, you were a hundred percent right about that.” Aelin glanced over at her phone, where her notifications had been pinging for almost a whole minute. “Lys, what the fuck? Did you text the groupchat?” 

“Of course I did!” Lys patted Aelin’s shoulder. “Just the one with you, me, Rowan, and Lorcan.” 

“That’s marginally better.” Lorcan was Rowan’s best man, so the groupchat with just the four of them was where they handled most of the wedding details. Aelin looked at the string of texts. “Why is Lorcan asking if we have a limo?” 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” Lys beamed. “Why shouldn’t you get a limo?” 

“Because they’re tourist traps, and before you say it, hell no. We’re not getting married by Elvis.” 

Lys frowned. “What happened to your sense of adventure?” 

“Ro and I already went and applied for a marriage license at the courthouse, and we have an appointment there later today.” Aelin flicked Lys’s shoulder. “We aren’t drunk enough to get married by some middle-aged man in a shitty Elvis suit.” 

“Fair enough.” Lysandra rolled her shoulders. “All right, lady, you better have brought all of your hair and makeup stuff, because so help me gods, you’ll be the most glamorous bride in the courthouse.” 

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.” Aelin grinned and opened up her makeup bag. 

~

A good two hours later, she had her makeup done and her hair resting in rollers, lips held apart as the smudge-proof scarlet lipstick dried. Lysandra made her close her eyes as she sprayed her face with setting spray, and Aelin obediently sat and waited until Lys told her she could open her eyes and stand up. She looked at herself in the mirror, and she beamed. 

“I love you, Lyssie.” 

“Love you too, Aelie.” 

Aelin wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, why? We’re not in college anymore.” 

Lys snickered. “You said it first.” 

“Oh, fine.” Aelin went over to the closet, dropped her robe, and let Lysandra help her into the dress, carefully sliding up the zipper in the back. She turned slowly, admiring the way the silk flowed over the lines of her figure, molded to her body. The slit climbed up her left leg, stopping at the middle of her thigh, and the heels she’d brought paired perfectly with the sleek look of the dress. 

Behind her, Lys sniffled as she pinned the veil into Aelin’s curls. “You’re really a bride,” she murmured, and Aelin turned and flung her arms around her best friend. 

“You’re the best maid of honor,” Aelin murmured thickly. 

Lys managed a smile. “Of course I am.” She blinked back the sheen of her tears. “Let’s go get you married.” 

She and Aelin went downstairs to the hotel lobby, and a car was waiting at the curb. They climbed into the back seat and went off to the courthouse, only a short drive from the hotel. As she hopped out of the car, Aelin looked across the limestone steps, a smile unfurling across her face when she saw Rowan and Lorcan standing shoulder to shoulder at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Hey there, handsome,” she hummed, touching his shoulder. 

He turned, and wonder suffused his face as he gawked at her in her wedding dress. “Holy gods, Fireheart,” he finally managed to say. “You’re so beautiful.” 

She blushed under her makeup. “Thank you, love.” She swept a long look up and down his figure, appreciating the fit of his tux. “You look stunning, too.” 

“Luckiest man in the world,” he murmured, holding out his hand. “Ready?” 

“For you? Yes.” She tucked her hand into his, and they walked up the courthouse steps together. 

They checked in at the reception desk in the lobby, and an aide led them back to a small, unassuming courtroom. It looked like an office, just with a small version of a judge’s bench in place of a desk. The placard on the desk read “Justice of the Peace,” meaning that the man behind the desk was officially authorized to perform weddings and other official duties. He greeted them and had Aelin and Rowan stand facing each other in front of the bench, with Lysandra and Lorcan a couple steps away as the witnesses. Hand in hand with Rowan, Aelin lost herself in his gaze as the officiant began the wedding ceremony. 

~

“Do you, Rowan Whitethorn, take Aelin Galathynius as your lawfully wedded wife?” 

Rowan’s eyes were soft and filled with love. “I do.” 

“And do you, Aelin Galathynius, take Rowan Whitethorn as your lawfully wedded husband?” 

Aelin smiled. “I do.” 

They exchanged rings, Aelin sliding a steel-gray platinum band with an inlay of tiny rubies onto Rowan’s finger and Rowan slipping a gold band engraved with a subtle flame design onto Aelin’s finger, tucking it into place beside her engagement ring. 

“With the authority vested in me by the state of Nevada, I hereby declare you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride.” 

Rowan smoothly hooked an arm around Aelin’s waist and dipped her into a fervent kiss. 

Behind them, Lysandra whooped, applauding vividly. Lorcan joined in, whistling lowly when Rowan finally pulled away and set Aelin upright on her feet. She was smiling brighter than he’d ever seen her smile, her joy warming his heart, and his smile matched hers. 

“Hi, husband,” she whispered. 

He kissed her again. “Hi, wife.” 

Aelin raised her and Rowan’s hands into the air like a winning boxer as they walked out of the courthouse and down the steps. They climbed into the car that was waiting for them, Lys and Lorcan following, and they drove off to the hotel, where the families were gathered for what they thought was going to be an engagement party. Aelin’s mother had repeatedly questioned her daughter’s desire to hold her party in Vegas, but she begrudgingly agreed when Aelin told her that was where the bachelor and bachelorette trips were going to be. 

Lorcan and Lysandra went into the hotel event space first, giving Aelin and Rowan a few minutes to themselves. She and Lys had planned it out during the drive—the best man and maid of honor would say some words of welcome, and when Aelin and Rowan were ready, they’d walk in and be announced as Mr. and Mrs. to everyone’s shock. 

“Ready?” Rowan asked, wrapping one arm low around Aelin’s hips. 

She flicked a sultry glance up at him. “I might need a few more minutes.” Even in her heels, she still had to rise up to kiss him, and in a blur of hazy kisses, she’d tugged him into the closest coat closet. It was empty except for some hangers, since nobody was wearing a jacket in Vegas, and he backed her swiftly against the shelves, his lips attached to her neck. 

“Love you so much,” he murmured against her skin. 

She wove her fingers into his hair. “Love you more, Ro.” 

A fist thudded against the door, shattering their little bubble. “Break it up, you two,” Lorcan grumbled. “I’m not opening this door, but you might want to get your lovebird asses out here.” 

“Jackass,” Rowan muttered. 

Aelin snickered. “Thank you, Lor darling.” 

“Gods above.” Lorcan left, probably rolling his eyes. 

“We should go,” Aelin whispered, deftly tucking Rowan’s shirt back into place. 

He raised a brow. “Do we have to?” 

“I want to show you off, husband.” She kissed the corner of his jaw. “Please?” 

“Anything for you, love.” He laced his fingers with hers and led her down the hallway and through the double doors into the event space, where their family and friends were gathered. 

Lysandra leaned into the microphone in her hand as the couple walked in. “Mr. and Mrs. Whitethorn, everyone!” she whooped. 

And the crowd went wild.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@mysterylilycheeta

[leiawritesstories]

The Princess & The Warrior

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 15: What if? and Day 30: Alternate Canon @rowaelinscourt

Ending Rowaelin Month with a little bit of a bang 🤭 What if...Rowan and Aelin's powers were swapped, giving Aelin ice and Rowan fire? And the alternate canon is that Rowan comes to Terrasen to train Aelin teehee

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: some swearing, sparring/fighting, big surprises ehehe

enjoy!!!!!

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

Dressed in her usual training uniform of fitted pants, loose belted tunic, and flexible-soled boots, Aelin tossed her braid over her shoulder and raised her arms above her head, loosening the muscles in her shoulders. She paced back and forth across the packed dirt ground of the training courtyard, trying her best not to spiral into self-doubt at the thought of this new phase of her training. 

A few weeks ago, her parents had informed her that they were in the process of bringing over a Fae tutor for her from Doranelle, where most of the immortal Fae lived. Queen Sellene Whitethorn, a longtime ally of Terrasen, was known for her dedication to training magic-wielders, and when Rhoe and Evalin had discovered that their daughter’s powers were far more vast than anticipated, their first thought had been to reach out to Doranelle. Aelin’s tutors from Rifthold, as educated as they were, only had experience training people with ordinary levels of magic. 

Not since Brannon Galathynius had there been a wielder of her caliber. 

And it terrified the shit out of her. 

Almost unconsciously, Aelin formed a razor-sharp blade of ice in her left hand, the exact same size and weight as the sword in her right hand but made of magic rather than steel. She went through the familiar motions of her warm-up movements, focusing on her breathing to feel the way that her body shifted and moved over the dirt. With the fluid swoops of her blades, she trailed a pattern of glittering snowflakes through the humid summer air. 

“Good form.” A male voice, calmly measured in a way that could only come from centuries of life experience, sounded from the far side of the courtyard. 

She turned around, dropping both swords to hang loosely at her sides, and waited as a Fae male a good seven inches taller than her with corded muscles lining the breadth of his shoulders tucked back his hood and strode—no, prowled—across the courtyard towards her. “You must be the new tutor.” 

His nostrils flared briefly, and his lips tightened into a flat line. “You can call me Rowan.” 

Her eyes widened slightly as she put together the details—the name, the green eyes and silver hair, the tattoos scrolling down half his face and the length of his arm, the handles of the hatchets strapped to his belt. “Prince Rowan Whitethorn, hmm? I wouldn’t have expected Queen Sellene to send one of her relatives all the way to Terrasen.” 

Rowan snorted softly. “Apparently, there’s a princess in Terrasen who can’t control the depth of her magic.” He ran a critical gaze up and down Aelin’s form. “That would be you, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.” 

“Just Aelin is fine.” 

“Whatever you say, princess.” Without further warning, Rowan launched a blade of blue flame at Aelin’s face. 

She whipped her ice sword out, just barely managing to deflect it. “What in the hells?!” 

Fire ignited around his left fist, a short dagger appearing in his right. “Welcome to training, princess. I thought you already had some.” Sarcasm dripped from his words. 

“Maybe I’m deliberately keeping my guard down.” She flicked her fingers, propelling a burst of tiny, sharp-edged ice crystals towards his smug face with a winter breeze. 

Bored, he cast a shield of orange flame, easily fending off her attack. “Maybe those idiot tutors of yours couldn’t teach you anything but crude basics.” 

“Hmm, I suppose modern training does seem crude to you in your old age.” Smirking, she coiled a wind around his left leg and tugged hard, throwing him off balance. 

Faster than she thought possible, faster than he had any right to be, he punched her. 

She’d barely even seen him move. 

“Asshole,” she snarled. She shook the blurriness from her eyes and hurled a fist at his thigh, engaging him in hand-to-hand combat. Rapidly melting her ice sword into a solid glove around her left hand, she kicked a knife out of her boot and swiped at Rowan, who batted off her attacks as if she were nothing more than an untrained recruit. His technique was precise and vicious and brutal, honed by centuries of training with the Fae legions of Doranelle, and Aelin felt her strength rapidly flagging as she strained to block his relentless jabs and punches and bursting bites of flame. 

“Shift, princess,” he ordered. “You have more strength and stamina as a Fae.” 

“If you’d give me a godsdamn minute, I could,” she panted. 

He shook his head and kicked the back of her knee. “In battle, you won’t have a godsdamn minute. You think an enemy is going to stop so you can fucking shift?” 

She swore angrily at him and whipped her knee up, hitting him squarely in the groin. He wheezed and doubled over, and she had just enough time to gather her depleted strength and shift into her Fae form. With her enhanced senses, she saw his knife slipping towards her, and she managed to deflect it just before the blade could nip at her skin. 

“Better,” he murmured, and he unleashed a furious barrage of punches that had her head spinning as she fought off the strikes that came from every angle. A coil of fire snaked up her leg, and she snuffed it with a breath of icy wind, only to find Rowan’s leg hooked behind her stabilizing leg, jerking in a twisting motion that sent her tumbling to the packed dirt. 

“That’s cheating,” she gasped, flinging a handful of dirt into his face. 

He hissed, and faster than she could see, he held the edge of his knife to her throat. “Yield.” 

As covertly as she could, she gathered a handful of snow above his head, and she grunted, straining to break free of his hold, as she dumped that snow down his back. 

He jerked at the shock of the cold, and the edge of the blade grazed her skin. Tiny pricks of blood welled up on the knife’s edge. “First blood is mine.” He withdrew the knife and stood up, holding out his tattooed hand to help her to her feet. She stood up reluctantly, brushing the dirt off of her clothes, and he went to wipe his knife on his tunic when he scented the blood on the blade. 

And he froze dead in his tracks. 

“No,” he whispered, shock bared on his face. “It can’t be.” 

Aelin seized the chance to slice the tip of her dagger across his fingertip, as his free hand was hanging loose, and the scent of his blood on her knife crashed into her with the force of a blizzard. 

Mate. 

This ancient, rude, insufferable male…was her mate. 

“Impossible,” she breathed, echoing his stunned silence. She was only twenty-four, and although she knew from her family’s Fae heritage that she would eventually Settle, she’d never given any thought to the idea that she might have a mate. Royalty married for prestige, not for any other reason. 

His face shuttered. “This changes nothing.” 

“Wrong.” She folded her arms across her chest, defiance blazing in her eyes. “This changes everything. I don’t care how terrified either of us are, you don’t get to use this as an excuse to leave.” 

“I wasn’t…” Rowan bit back his words. “It might not be the best idea for me to train you.” 

“Bullshit,” Aelin scoffed. “Queen Sellene clearly chose you for a reason. Certainly you can manage to teach me the control you think I lack without letting any of your damn territorial Fae instincts get in the way.” 

To her utter shock, his lips twitched upwards into something resembling a smirk. “What the hell would you know about ‘territorial Fae instincts,’ princess?” 

“I’m Fae too, you know.” Bitterness clogged her throat, the anguished screams of the one she couldn’t save echoing through her mind. “I can be incredibly protective.” 

He must have read the hollowness in her eyes. “All right. I’ll stay.” 

“Good, then you’re not a coward.” 

“One condition, though.” 

She raised a brow. “Oh?” 

He sighed, mumbling something indecipherable under his breath. “We cannot tell anyone.” 

“Why in the hells would I want to?” She tucked her knife back down the side of her boot. “You have been here for all of a day, and the last time I let someone into my heart, he died.” She whirled on her heel and left, her footfalls like thunderclaps in the suddenly silent courtyard. 

And Rowan could only stare, shell-shocked, an unidentified emotion beginning to stir in his heart.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@mysterylilycheeta

[leiawritesstories]

Naughty Chef

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 4: Accidental Nude @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content/slightly NSFW

Surprise! Another episode of Chef Rowan! Enjoy!!!

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

“42 up, 43 up, 51 in two minutes, and—what do you want, Moonie?” Wiping the rolled-up sleeve of his white chef’s jacket across his sweaty, flushed face, Rowan shot a sharp look at Fenrys, who had appeared out of nowhere in the expo window. “Hurry the hell up, we’re buried in tickets.” 

“I know.” Fen cleared his throat. “Just stopping by to check on the 86 list and give expo another set of hands.” 

Rowan glanced at the scribbled notes on the back of a guest check that was tucked into his side of the expo window. “We’re down to three halibut all day and one of the prep cooks said the mushrooms were slimy, so no stroganoff besides what we have in the fridge. That’s all for now.” 

“Fen, I need a comp on table 52!” Dorian, one of the servers, hurried around the corner. “You got a minute?” 

“Go on, boss man.” Rowan waved an empty frying pan at Fenrys as the blonde man left the expo hall. “Lor, where the fuck is that ribeye for 51?” 

“Don’t fuckin’ rush me, asshole!” Lorcan yelled from his station. Rowan chuckled and turned back to the orders he was working on, knowing Lorcan’s surliness was his way of showing affection. The two of them had been working for long enough to know each other’s cooking times and moods, and every so often he liked to needle the grumpy man in the middle of dinner service just to get a reaction. 

The music pumping from the speakers abruptly paused, and the voice on Rowan’s phone—it was his turn to pick the music—announced a message from Aelin. “Fireheart sent you a photo. Would you like to open it?” 

“No,” Rowan called, and the music started back up. He’d check his phone as soon as he was done with this ticket, because he didn’t want to miss a single photo or text about his precious angel baby girl, and Aelin frequently sent him Lana updates while he was at work. 

Lorcan snickered. “Aww, is Daddy Chef anxious about his wittle girwie?” 

“Asshole.” Rowan finished plating up the shrimp skewers he’d been grilling, slid the plate across the expo window, and threw a wadded-up rag at Lorcan’s ass. “Give me five, I’m gonna go check what Aelin said. You want music, Lor?” 

“Want me to play you a lullaby?” 

“Hey, Vaughan!” The chef down at the cold line looked up, brows raised in question. “How about you run the music while I duck into my office for a minute? Lorcan decided to be a dickwad.”

“When is he ever anything but a dickwad?” Vaughan pulled out his phone and connected to the Bluetooth speakers. “Go on and cry over your baby, Chef.” 

“All of you are dicks,” Rowan grumbled, affectionately. He left the kitchen, walked past the dishwashing station in the back, and pushed open the green-painted door of his office. Technically, he shared it with Lorcan, but his co-executive chef had once walked in on him cooing and blowing kisses to his baby daughter over the phone and declared that the office was ruined and he never wanted to step foot in it again. 

Taking a seat in the worn leather swivel chair, Rowan pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his texts. He tapped on Aelin’s name, which was the top of his list, and opened the photo she’d sent him a few minutes ago. 

And his heart fucking stopped. 

Eyes the size of dinner plates, jaw nearly on the floor, and all of his systems short-circuiting, Rowan gaped at the picture on his phone, desperately trying to control the sudden rush of his blood directly to his groin. Because the picture was not Lana, but Aelin. Aelin, who was standing in front of her full-length mirror wearing tiny, nearly sheer scraps of flimsy lace, the pieces so tiny that he couldn’t tell what color they were from the photo. Aelin, whose artfully tousled wavy hair and smoky eye makeup and bold red lipstick made a forest fire erupt in his blood. 

>>what do you think of this for tonight?

<<You’re fucking stunning, Fireheart.

Seconds later, gray dots pulsed as Aelin responded. 

>>oh my gods

>>i’m so sorry!!!

>>that was supposed to go to the girls chat

>>oh my gods

<<You send…those pictures to the girls chat?! Aelin, you’re naked! It was irrational, he knew, to expect his fiancée not to ask her close friends about her outfits, but he was hard in his office and he wanted that photo only for himself. 

>>yes, you hovering buzzard. who else would give me honest opinions?

<<Me

>>love, you like everything i wear

>>it’s not a complaint, but i do want to surprise you sometimes

<<Naughty girl

<<You’d better be wearing that when I get home tonight. That, and nothing else.

>>ro, we have a baby…

<<We’re gonna have two babies if you keep getting new lingerie, baby. I want to see it when I get home. On you, then on the floor. 

>>hmm, sounds like someone’s a little worked up. He could practically hear the smirk in his fiancée’s voice. Instinctively, he locked the door, stood up, and angled the cheap mirror that was propped against the far wall. She wanted to tease him with photos of her looking absolutely sinful while he was at work? He’d give her something to think about, too. 

Rowan unbuttoned his jacket, revealing his bare, tattooed skin, and unzipped his pants. Shoving a hand into his boxers, he wrapped a fist around himself and faced the mirror, turning slightly to emphasize the rock-hard bulge. Before he could think better, he turned his flash on and snapped the photo, the bright light illuminating the gloomy space of the office and casting the angles of his figure into light and shadow. He sent it, turned his phone back to Do Not Disturb, shoved it in his pocket, left the office, and made a beeline for the staff bathroom. 

Several minutes later, he emerged more composed, straightened his chef’s jacket, and headed back to the kitchen. He nodded his thanks at Nico, the sous chef, who had taken over his station while he was…on break. Lorcan shot him a knowing smirk, wiggling his dark brows suggestively, and Rowan flipped him off, turning his attention back to the flood of tickets pouring off the printer. 

It was almost eleven o’clock by the time he clocked out and left through the back door, tiredly driving home through quiet streets. He unbuttoned his jacket as he walked up the steps to his house, and pushed through the front door. Inside, he carefully stepped out of his shoes and left them on the shoe rack before heading down the hall towards the bedroom. 

Where his fiancée was waiting, sprawled on their bed wearing barely more than a smirk.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

[leiawritesstories]

Small Steps

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 27: Single Parents @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: mild innuendo, Maeve, reference to parental loss

enjoy!!

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

“…and this week, as we all know, is Parents’ Week, so the kids will be bringing their parents to school most of the days. There’s a family breakfast on Tuesday and the barbecue on Friday evening, so please remember to remind your classes of these events. That’s all.” Maeve, the principal, finished her long, drawn-out speech, and Aelin covertly tucked away her phone and stood up with the rest of the teachers. It was her third year teaching the second grade at Orynth Academy, a private grade school that catered mainly to families with working parents. The school made an effort to have a wide range of after-school programs so that the kids could stay later, allowing the parents to get through all of their 9-5 hours before they had to come pick up their kids. 

It was a little bit elitist, especially given Maeve’s attitude towards the students who were there on scholarship, but Aelin genuinely loved her job. She’d graduated university with a master’s degree in education, and the best parts of her day were the big smiles on her students’ faces when they were able to grasp a new concept. 

Sleek silver thermos of coffee in hand, Aelin walked down the hall with the other second grade teacher, Elide Lochan, the two of them exchanging lesson plans for the day and snickering quietly about Maeve’s long speech. She did that far too often—dragged what could have been a fifteen-minute Monday morning staff meeting into an hour-long affair, which forced the teachers to come into work earlier than usual. 

“I’m convinced she’s secretly a witch,” Elide murmured. “No human woman is that pale all year.” 

“Maybe she’s a vampire,” Aelin offered. “That would explain why she never has lights on in her office or comes by the classrooms during the day when there’s sunlight.” 

Elide giggled. “No wonder all the kids are scared of her.” 

They came to Aelin’s classroom, and Elide waved as she continued down the hall to her classroom. Aelin flicked on the lights as she walked in, illuminating the space that she had carefully planned and decorated for her students. The desks sat in orderly rows—as specified in the damn school handbook—but each desk had a hand-lettered name card. Soft white twinkle lights draped around the whiteboard and along the row of windows on the left side of the classroom. The colorful alphabet posters that circled half the classroom were also handmade; Aelin had spent hours carefully outlining each letter in both print and cursive. A multicolored rug spanned the front of the classroom, where the students gathered for storytime every day, and the plastic bins with paper, craft supplies, and pencils were also brightly colored, giving a cheerful atmosphere to what would otherwise have been a sterile environment. 

Aelin’s desk was neatly organized with wire racks that held her graded and not-yet-graded assignments, lesson plans, and instruction sheets. Clear plastic organizers held her pens and pencils, and her computer had a neat row of sticky notes at the bottom of the monitor that held reminders and a couple of passwords for instructional sites she frequently used. She set her coffee down and opened up her laptop, pulling up the first few things she would need for the day. 

Knocking against her open door pulled her attention over that way. Maeve stood in the doorway, checking in on the staff as she often did before the students began to arrive. “Ms. Galathynius?” 

“Yes, ma’am?” Another thing that needled Aelin about this place—Maeve insisted that the staff refer to her as ma’am. 

“Do you need anything for the day?” 

“I don’t believe so, but I will let you know if anything comes up, ma’am.” 

“Very good.” Maeve left, headed for the next classroom down. 

Aelin rolled her eyes as she stood and went to the whiteboard. She lettered the day’s date neatly in the upper left of the board, turned on the projector, and brought the Morning Question up so it was clearly visible. She had her students fill out a Morning Question every day on a worksheet that she gave them each week, so that they had something to do that worked as both another form of roll call and a way to practice their writing. 

The first bell rang, and it was only a few minutes before students began to enter the classroom, many of them with their parents in tow. Aelin took a long pull of coffee and went over to the door, where she smiled and greeted each student and was introduced to a long string of parents, many of whom were absorbed in their email or phone calls as they began their workday. 

“Good morning, Emerson,” she said warmly to one of the boys.

He grinned widely at her. “I lost my tooth, Ms. G! See?” Indeed, there was a gap between his front teeth that hadn’t been there on Friday. 

“Congratulations!” She gave him a fist bump. “Did you get a dollar from the tooth faerie?” 

Wide-eyed, Emerson turned to his mom, tugging at her hand. “Mama! Did you hear? Auntie—I mean, Miss G says the tooth faerie gives money!” 

Emerson’s mom Lysandra, who was Aelin’s dear friend and practically her sister-in-law, fought back a burst of laughter as she glared teasingly at Aelin. “Is that true?” 

“Happened when I was growing up.” Aelin shrugged. “But maybe the economy has gone down since then, who knows?” 

“I can’t say what I want to say since you’re at work, but you know what I’m thinking.” Lysandra winked at Aelin. “Have a good day, my boy! I love you.” 

“Love you too, Mama!” Emerson went to go put away his backpack, and Aelin smirked at Lys as she headed down the hall. 

Another small hand grasped hers. “Hi, Miss G!” 

Aelin turned and found a pair of huge, emerald green eyes staring up at her in near adoration. She smiled and squeezed the girl’s hand. “Good morning, Charlotte. Did you bring your dad?” 

The second week of school, Charlotte had come to Aelin in tears during morning recess, crying over the unkind words of some older students. It was then that Aelin learned that Charlotte’s dad was a widower, having lost his wife when their daughter was only a few months old. With her heart bleeding for the girl, Aelin had shared that her mom was in the afterlife too, and she had quickly become Charlotte Whitethorn’s favorite teacher. 

Charlotte nodded slowly. “Daddy’s in the hallway. He said he didn’t want to feel ak-sard around the other parents.” 

“Did you mean awkward?” Aelin asked, gently correcting the girl’s pronunciation. 

“Uh-huh.” Charlotte went back into the hallway, and she came into the classroom hand in hand with her father, looking for all the world like she was forcefully tugging him along with her. “Daddy, this is Miss G! She’s the bestest teacher!” 

“We just say best,” Aelin reminded her, the teacher part of her brain in full force. She turned her smile onto Rowan Whitethorn, whom she’d met once during back-to-school night and immediately decided to try and charm. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot to your daughter.” 

Rowan scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, flicking a glance around the room at the parents who were following their kids to their desks. “To be honest, Ms. Galathynius, I almost didn’t get out of the car.” He looked fondly at his daughter as she ran across the classroom to say hi to her friends. 

“Well, good on you for doing this. Small steps, right?” 

He huffed a breathy laugh, a half-smile tilting his unfairly full, definitely kissable lips. “Right. Speaking of that…how are your small steps, Ms. G?” His eyes twinkled at her teacher title. 

She put on the pretense of shaking his hand so she could poke him in the ribs. “We didn’t tell the next-door neighbor to mind her own flipping business when she started rambling about the ‘aesthetic of the community,’ when she knows that I work full-time and don’t have the means to keep my tiny scrap of a front yard immaculately pruned, and I consider that a win.” 

Rowan chuckled. “Well done, Ms. Galathynius.” Good girl, said the look in his eyes. 

Gods burn me, thought Aelin as she read the unspoken words. “Well, it was lovely of you to bring your daughter to school, Mr. Whitethorn. I’ll remind you of the same thing that I will tell the students: we have parent-student breakfast tomorrow morning from seven to nine, and we have the family barbecue on Friday evening.” She winked. “You should come.” 

A blush flared bright on his cheekbones, a splatter of crimson atop his tan. “I’ll try to make room in my schedule.” 

“Wonderful!” She waved as he left, and she put her smile on again as she turned to the next set of parents. “Good morning!” 

~

At the end of the day, Aelin locked her classroom and let her hair down as she went out to her car, sighing in relief at the warm sunshine on her skin. She drove back to her house and put down her school bag, then climbed right back into her car and headed into town again. The drive was familiar and easy, and she cut through the neighborhood streets to avoid the congestion on the main roads. Soon enough, she was pulling into the small parking lot at Wee Ones Daycare, which offered care for infants and children from six months to three years old. The staff there was absolutely wonderful, if overly enthusiastic about concepts that they were currently learning about, and Aelin felt completely and utterly safe trusting them. 

She slung the car seat over her arm, walked in the doors, and greeted the receptionist, a friendly young woman named Evangeline whose shy smile masked a heart the size of the universe. It was only a short walk to the baby room, and Aelin knocked softly on the doorframe as she entered. “Hi, Kaltain.” 

The lady who was in charge of the infants aged six to eight months smiled. “Hi, Aelin.” 

A younger girl, one of the part-time college students who worked at the daycare, noticed Aelin and went to the other side of the room. She came over with a sleepy baby girl in her arms, and Aelin beamed wide as she picked up her tiny daughter, who made a soft, contented sound in her sleep as she settled into her mama’s arms. 

“Hi, Lana lovey.” She passed her thumb over the baby girl’s little button nose, feeling her heart settle as she snuggled her daughter. Every morning when she dropped Lana off at daycare, she felt a piece of herself missing, and it clicked back into place the instant she had her girl in her arms again. “How did she do with naps today?” 

Kaltain checked the log where she tracked each baby’s nap times. “She did great! She slept for an hour after she had her morning bottle, and she fell asleep about forty-five minutes ago.” Lana was seven months old and was only waking up one to two times at night, huge progress from her newborn phase, when she was up every two hours without fail. 

“That’s awesome!” Aelin kissed Lana’s forehead. “You’re doing so good, lovey. Are you sitting up too?” 

“She is,” Kaltain said cheerfully. “We practice sitting up with the pillows every day.” 

The assistant peered over Kaltain’s shoulder. “Have we talked about sleep training yet? That’s something that you should definitely be doing, since it’s been shown to improve babies’ sleep quality and patterns, which allows the parents to get sleep too—” 

“Thank you for your input.” Aelin put on her teacher voice, speaking politely but firmly. “At this time, I do not plan to sleep train my daughter, as that is not in the best interest of our family. Lana sleeps perfectly well, and her wake windows work for both of us since I can breastfeed, pump, or both.” 

The assistant flushed, recognizing that she’d spoken too quickly. “But the studies do show data in favor of sleep training for infants,” she mumbled. 

“Oh, I completely believe that,” Aelin reassured her. “I’m only saying that sleep training is not the right situation for every infant, particularly for situations like mine.” She got Lana settled into her car seat, still sleeping, and headed for the door. “See you tomorrow!” 

She secured Lana’s car seat, checked the mirrors to make sure she could see her daughter, and drove away, weaving back through the neighborhoods. It was only a short while before she was back home, and she brought her baby girl inside as Lana was waking up. In the house, she scooped the baby girl into her arms and peppered kisses on her sleepy, rosy cheeks, making her squeal. 

Lana started to squirm within a few minutes, so Aelin got her changed into a fresh diaper and outfit, settled down in her comfortable recliner, and helped her latch. She rocked gently back and forth as Lana fed, using her pump on the other side. Fed and happy, Lana burped easily, only spitting up a little bit, and made happy sounds as Aelin stole a few more moments of cuddles. Eventually, though, her stomach growled like a feral cat and she had to get up and head for the kitchen. She buckled her baby carrier around her waist and got Lana happily situated. Screw what the mommy blogs said about “spoiling the babies,” she would wear her baby as much as she wanted. 

“Mama’s hungry too, little lovey,” she cooed, chuckling as Lana waved her little arms and gurgled. “That’s right, my girl, you eat good food, and I have to eat good food too.” She popped a glass container of leftover pasta into the microwave and took a carton of strawberries out of the fridge. The berries were delicious, and when the microwave beeped a few minutes later, she had steaming hot pasta as well. “Ooh, that’s yummy!” 

Lana reached for the spoon, and Aelin chuckled and let her daughter wrap her little fist around the handle of the spoon. She waved it around, managing to splash tomato sauce in her wispy brown hair, and Aelin could only laugh at the sight. “What on earth are we going to do when you start eating solids, hmm? You’re going to need a bath every other hour, lovey.” 

The doorbell rang. 

Aelin’s brows shot up, and she glanced at her phone. Oh, gods. She’d forgotten that Rowan was coming over that night. This…thing between them was still new, and they had agreed to take it slowly, so she hadn’t yet been over to his house. That would mean telling Charlotte that her teacher was dating her dad, and she didn’t want to burden the girl with that knowledge. 

It also meant that Rowan didn’t know Lana. 

With a deep, steadying breath, Aelin went to the front door and opened it wide, her jaw dropping slightly at the beautiful bouquet of flowers that Rowan was holding. The burst of bright pink, yellow, orange, and crimson gerbera daisies popped against his plain, pale gray shirt. 

And his jaw hung loose at the sight of the baby she cradled in her arms. 

“Hi, Rowan.” Aelin broke the thick silence. “Come on in.” 

He came slowly into her house, still staring at Lana. “H-hi, Aelin,” he whispered. “I, um…”

She exhaled deeply. “Rowan, I want you to meet my daughter, Alanna. Lana. She’s seven months old, and she is my whole entire life.” 

“Hi, Miss Lana,” Rowan murmured, hesitantly reaching out towards Aelin’s baby daughter. Lana gurgled happily and wrapped her tiny fingers around his pointer finger, her grip surprisingly strong. A smile bloomed across his face. “You’re such a strong little miss,” he praised, grinning at her. “Just like your mama, hmm?” 

“Rowan,” Aelin whispered, her throat going thick. 

He flashed her a crooked, endearing grin. “Strongest woman I know, raising a baby while having a full-time job.” 

She swallowed heavily. “It’s just me and Lana.” Smiling at her daughter, she brushed over the soft brown waves atop her little head. “You…Rowan, you’re probably the only person besides my family who knows my daughter.” 

“Thank you for letting me meet her,” he murmured, utterly charmed by Lana’s wide turquoise eyes and infectious happiness. “You know why it’s only me and Charlotte, Ae, and very few people know about that.” 

“Yeah,” she breathed. “It’s not easy, Ro. Being her only parent.” 

“Hey.” He slid the container of pasta closer to Aelin. “Maybe we can help each other out, every once in a while.” 

The simple ease of his suggestion warmed her to her core. “I���d like that.”

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@mysterylilycheeta