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aelinschild · 9 months

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Season Of Forgiveness

Main Masterlist

Happy Holidays everyone!! I'm a little (Very, sorry!!) late with this post, but this is my gift for the 2023 Rowaelin Secret Santa! Big thank you to @rowaelinscourt for organizing it!! This is dedicated to the lovely @shyvioletcat , I wish you a very merry holiday season, and hopefully you enjoy this absolute monstrosity. I actually do not know what took over me during writing this, but I'm just happy its done.

SYNOPSIS: Holidays are known to be the season of joy, but when that joy is no longer Aelin's, she is forced to find peace in the unknown. WORDCOUNT: 9k GENERAL WARNINGS: Very light one bed trope, mentions of sex, angsty for no reason, swearing, alcohol, arguments, choking and CPR, happy ending dont worry

(A/N: After writing this, I realize it has the same vibe of calling Die Hard a Christmas movie. Granted, I actually didn't finish the movie, but from what I watched, how the fuck is it a Christmas movie?? This is me telling you that this fic is probably like that lol)

Hour One

Fuck.

There was really no other way to put it. Fuck is such a versatile word, situationally. Aelin can recount the times she's moaned out breathy fucks, and the times she's roared them during moronic altercations.

This type of fuck? Certainly not the cathartic type.

This fuck is the sum of all past mistakes in her life, multiplied by her best friend's scheming mind, and then raised to the power of the irrational choice to return to her old university town.

On the queen-sized bed were two plush towels. A robe. Face cloths and minimal toiletries.

Oh, and a fucking red rose.

In Lysandra’s plush apartment – a classic Victorian style, with ivy creeping up the brick fireplace, and stained glass windows at odd intervals – she was the owner of three bedrooms.

And to Aelin's luck, there happened to be two couples staying here this evening. Which meant two of the three bedrooms were now occupied. Mathematically speaking, the two other individuals would each need their own room.

It seems that math slipped Lysandra's mind when she organized her little yearly anniversary Yulemas Eve dinner. How…pleasant.

Chest rising and falling with barely contained frustration, Aelin didn't know whether to yell or cry. Her hand held her overnight bag so tight her knuckles were pressing at the whites. Nails digging into supple skin.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Lysandra had done. But it took a lot of willpower for Aelin to not storm out of the room and choke her friend for the transgression. And just past the blood rushing in her ears, she could hear the friendly greetings of her other friends as they crossed the threshold of Lys’ little home. Welcomed into the warmth of tradition.

Oh, I'm going to kill you, Lysandra.

Aedion and Lys would – obviously – take their master bedroom. Located around a corner and at the end of that hall. Far from where Aelin was. A feature she was grateful for, given Aedion and Lysandra's… healthy love life. And Lorcan and Elide would slip into the downstairs spare room. The one the couple had claimed during the first year of this tradition.

Leaving Aelin, in this spare room with a queen-sized bed and the bloody rose, to bed with Rowan.

Oh, how she loathed her life at this moment. What foul god had she angered to be punished this way. Maybe that same god would derail Rowan’s cab en route. Shucking it into a frozen lake, or something of the like.

Gently brushing over the towels, Aelin traced the other memories this room held.

The queen-sized bed hardly fit her and Rowan, that she knew from experience. His height alone ruined the tucked edges of their duvet, which always ended up on his side of the bed by morning. The pillows would have to be mushed together in the middle so that they would not fall off. And Rowan, he at night would roll around. Restless, even in the deepest hours. He would usually end up on top of Aelin, face along her breasts and hair tickling her chin.

Her fingers moved from the towel to the rose. Plucking it up, she held it at eye level. Studying the contours of the flower, it was beautiful. But Aelin couldn't get past the fact that Lysandra had set this up. And put a godsdamned rose on the towels.

Aelin might just take the couch.

The front door opened and closed again, voices rose up from the entry through the open bedroom door. Aelin began unpacking mechanically. The drawers where she set her clothes were the same as she had for the last decade. The dent on the wall by the left corner was also the same. Seems like Aedion never got around to patching it. Aelin chuckles under her breath, the talking-to she and Rowan had received after denting the wall from a vigorous…activity, would never fail to not make her laugh.

Once the unpacking was complete, only taking a few moments as Aelin wouldn't be staying longer than the night, she took a moment to sit on her side of the bed and breathe.

This would be disastrous. And she had no way of getting out. Unless she jumped from the window to her left.

A decade ago, Aelin and Rowan had met through their friends. Their family. Aedion had bridged the gap by dating her best friend, Lysandra. Their quickly evolving and fiery romance meant that there would no longer be Aelin-Elide-Lys days. Now, they included the Ashryver cousin. Lorcan and Rowan had been over Aedion’s lovesick puppy act and had forcibly inserted themselves into the group. As her cousin rarely left Lysandra's side anymore.

This meant that Aelin and Elide were left to deal with two grumpy college guys. It was like babysitting rocks, who could probably show more emotion than the lot of them. But somehow, somewhere along the line, Elide fell for Lorcan. And when Aelin was forced to watch another friend fall in love, she turned to the only bastard left.

But Aelin and Rowan had always been…different. Difficult entirely. It started as sex. Each of them too busy with their respective degrees to foster any more of a connection.

It worked, and it worked well.

For two years, Aelin was exclusive with Rowan Whitethorn without anyone knowing the depth of their friendship. To her girlfriends, he was the hot guy whom Aelin should really give a chance. To his boys, she was the girl who could obviously help blow off a little steam.

Time stretched out, and steadiness had replaced the need for romantic connection. Post graduation, Rowan and her barely crossed paths anymore, unless the entire group got together. But there still existed an attachment built during years of intimacy – which Aelin never voiced, not wanting to ruin the entire affair by breaking the principle rule of their arrangement. And due to that principle, Rowan had also never expressed any interest above surface-level desire.

She had been left in the dark of his feelings for her, just as she had left him in the dark of hers. They were two polar magnets, separated only by the fear of shattering the fragile closeness built from tentative familiarity. Neither were any good at subtly hinting at something.

When the parallel lines of their lives crossed, ever-diligent Rowan proposed something rather different. Unpredictable.

He offered a relationship.

Looking back, it was hilariously clinical. It wouldn't surprise her if he had stored papers in her bag with a list of what their relationship could entail. Numbered – or alphabetically ordered. Probably about who did what and when hand-holding was allowed. Such a stickler for the rules.

But Rowan had shocked Aelin that night. When she had said yes, fuck it let's give it a chance, and they had gone back to his apartment, there was a bouquet of fragrant red roses placed on the counter. A box of her favourite chocolates beside it. Things she had mentioned in passing, probably after a hook-up. Maybe during a romantic comedy that they would often watch together. Where she’d point out the little things men can do that show a deeper appreciation.

They had cracked open a bottle of wine, and talked for hours under the stars and above the rushing traffic. And it was like peeling back a layer, revealing this steadfast and romantic man. The one who had refiled her glass more than once. Used his hand to cover sharp edges when she leaned around after a few too many drinks. Who had carried her to bed, gently unclasping her stiletto heels and massaging the tired soles of her feet. Who had carefully removed the maxi dress she wore, hanging it up to prevent creases. Then, with permission, undressed her further.

That night hadn't been like before. Aelin wasn't sure she had ever felt that way. Not a blinding, stretching heat or an all-consuming pressure. No, rather a connection. When Rowan had caressed her like a piece of art, she felt revered. Holy. Her skin had tingled with the unfamiliar feeling of adoration.

Breathless whispers and tight holds had conveyed words that were far too new to speak aloud.

That night had been the beginning of a long-standing understanding. The two of them weren't open about their connection. Rather, it was a pleasant slice of life, cut out to fit the shape of two lovers who aimed to navigate the crossroads of their future. And for years they existed peacefully in the space they had made for each other.

Until they couldn't anymore.

The door creaked open, its hinges never oiled. Lysandra was allergic to a chemical in WD-40.

A whoosh of breath came from the entrance, and Aelin’s spine felt the all too familiar tingle of the presence of the man she had loved.

“Aelin,” came the voice, like gravel smoothed by arctic winds. There always existed some sort of unrest under Rowan’s skin. It could be heard in his voice, worn from use. Had she still been his, she would have made him a cup of tea. Extra honey. As he liked.

Humming out a noise of acknowledgement, Aelin turned slightly. Cheeks starting to heat. “Hello, Rowan.” She said, breathlessly.

She watched his throat work. He had gotten leaner since she last saw him. His eyes less bright. Cheeks sunken. His unachievable tan had faded.

He was still the beautiful boy–man, she had always known. Pleasure and pain united, each moment in his presence stole some of her oxygen. She loved him. Loved.

A shrill squeak this time, and a crafty brunette head popped into the doorway. “Ah! Okay! Guess, how many candies are in this jar!” Lysandra asked the both of them. Their moment shattering and instead opening up to accept another's presence. Lysandra was holding a large mason jar filled with red and white peppermint swirl candies.

“Uh,” Rowan scratched the back of his neck. “Two hundred?” Lysandra just snorted and then turned to Aelin.

Aelin studied the jar, fighting to not break out into goosebumps with the feeling of Rowan’s eyes on her. “One hundred…and… forty-three–no! Twenty!”

“Final answer?” Lysandra taunted.

“Yes.”

“Wrong.” She cackled. Turning away and hightailing it down the hall, laughing like she was possessed. “Come downstairs, you losers!”

Hour Two

Aelin had left with no word to Rowan. She couldn't bear it. The wound still so fresh. Instead, she had sauntered by and shut the door gently on her way out. Missing the pleading look in his eyes as she walked away.

“Ae!” Elide shouted at her approach. Aelin couldn't help but smile. As awful as the next eleven hours may be, Aelin was grateful she had her best friends by her side. Lysandra's still on thin ice.

“El! Look at you!” Aelin grabbed a hold of her friend's hand, letting her do a little twirl. The sequined skirt she had on fanned out around her. Reflecting the lights in the room across the walls. “You like our own little mirrorball.”

Elide just let out a soft laugh. Grinning. “Gotta get the party started somehow.” She said. Stepping back she put her arms on Aelin's elbow, holding tight. She made a show of looking around the room, and upon it being clear, Elide looked her right in the eyes. “I'm sorry.”

“For what,” Aelin asked, perplexed.

She gave her a pointed look. “I tried to explain to Lys that she wasn't being fair. It's not fair. I offered to get a hotel room for me and Lorcan, but you know how Aedion is about traditions.” She rolled her eyes. “I realize that this isn't… you know. This was not on the healing plan–”

“Maybe, El, just being with my best friends could be healing. Maybe we switch the healing plan around for a little.” She said softly, speaking from a place of honesty.

Elide’s eyes were misty, and Aelin had to look away. This was a hurt that was deeper than her.

She took a breath, “Okay. But–no I'm serious. Don't look away. If you need anything, anything at all, I'm here. And we can have a little girl meeting with Lys after we put the boys to bed.” She gave a choked laugh.

Aelin nodded. An understanding passing through them both. Everyone knew that tension would be high this evening. Aelin herself knew it would be brutal. Facing her ex at Lys’ annual Yulemas Eve Dinner, a tradition shrouded in love and comfort. But she was eternally grateful for Elide – and Lysandra, but maybe not currently. How she found such caring women would never fail to surprise her.

Elide nodded back, smile and eyes watery. They both let out laughs. This solidarity was something Aelin needed more than she knew.

“Okay, no more tears.” Aelin sniffed, disconnecting their hand-elbow position to wipe at her waterline. Elide laughed and did the same; laughing at the growing pains. Embracing and squeezing love into each other.

Hour Three

They had all moved to the living room. It was three o'clock, and the festivities would run until midnight.

This tradition of theirs started years ago, when Lysandra had been given this apartment by her uncle, conveniently on Yulemas Eve. As a group of broke college students, they had gotten together at noon at Lys’ new abode, flocking towards the offer of free food and drinks. But, they had spent the next twelve hours renovating, each of them finding different tasks every hour to keep the boredom away. At midnight, the promised food had been delivered and all of them had pigged out and slept on the worn carpet of the living room, full of holiday spirit.

That tradition continued on, and it proved to be extremely helpful in the days when family ties were harder to save than simply forget. When the lonesomeness of the holidays overtook the youths, twelve hours at Lysandra and Aedion's home would never fail to rekindle that merriment.

And so, for the past decade, everyone would arrive at noon, and each hour would be filled with something new; usually holiday-themed, but it was truly left to Aelin’s best friend’s imagination.

So at hour three, the group found themselves in the living room, sipping on sparkling wine and snacking on appetizers. This would – apparently – be the hour of catching up.

“... And so I told him, if he wanted a maid he could hire one. I mean, the man is rolling in money. What fucking scumbag hires someone, and then lets them play servant for the rest of the office, and then drops all his work on them? I mean, truly.” Elide was saying. Aelin was nodding along, enjoying the fresh gossip about her best friend's workplace. “But then he got all on his high horse, all you can't talk to me like that and I'm your superior, you know. Stupid bullshit.”

“So what did you do?” Lysandra asked, thoroughly enthralled by the story. Lorcan let out a hearty chuckle, his arm slung across Elide lovingly.

“I fucking stole the glass plate from his microwave. Then took all the ink cartridges from his pens. And all the extra toilet paper in his washroom? Not there anymore!” Aelin snorted out her bubbly wine. Lysandra was racked with giggles, and Lorcan was trying not to laugh out loud. Aedion’s cackle joined the fray. And like she always would, Aelin picked up on Rowan's breathy laugh, it ignited flames through her veins.

“Oh my gods, El. You absolute heathen,” Aedion got out through fits of laughter. Lysandra attempted deep breaths while wiping stray tears from the corners of her eyes. Aelin stared into her drink, suppressing giggles.

“Well, it's not like he didn't deserve it,” Elide added, smiling smugly. Lorcan just kissed her temple.

“Certainly not. Where’d you get those ideas though?” Leaning for a piece of cheese, Aelin asked. Grabbing a few pieces and rolling them around in her palm. Lysandra’s giggles were waving in and out, each time Aedion whispered something in her ear, they’d begin again.

“My gigantic brain.” Elide snorted, pleased at her joke.

“Nice, El.” Came from Rowan.

“See, I thought you'd crucify me for that. Mister straight and narrow.” Oh.

Rowan didn't falter, “No, actually, if anything that gives me ideas.” He said. “Sometimes the corporate world can be a little too uptight.” He glanced at Aelin.

Aedion laughed again. “Rich! That’s rich coming from you.” He taunted.

Rowan leaned into the jest. “Maybe I want to break free.”

“Uptight life not suiting you anymore, Boyo?” Came from Lorcan.

“Maybe.” Rowan shrugged. “Maybe life is worth a little more than corporate deviances.” He pulled at the seams of his shirt. Fingers twirling the stem of his sparkling wine.

Aelin didn't think anyone else had noticed the stall in the conversation. The way the bright energy slowed and sputtered. Pausing momentarily and applying enough pressure to Aelin’s soul that she felt winded. But everyone moved on, Rowan included. Laughing and sharing stories as they might.

The conversation didn't end, and Aelin’s buried sorrow didn't dissipate. But she would keep breathing. Keep moving forward, exchanging banter all in the hopes of drawing out the sound of her heart breaking slowly.

“By the way, Lys, how many candies were in the jar?”

“None. It was the paper decoration that it came with from the store.”

Hour Four

It was cocktail hour.

This was Aelin’s favourite tradition. One she actually prepared for. And it consisted of each of them having to make a holiday-themed cocktail, completely customized. There could be no research during the competition – before was a grey area Aelin loved to exploit – and they each had ten minutes.

The order would follow; Lorcan, Lysandra, Elide, Aedion, Rowan, Aelin. And so, a silver tray had been placed in the middle of the table, and six yellowy drinks in champagne flutes sat. The colour was truly horrifying.

“So, explain.” Lysadra motioned to start.

“Right,” Lorcan grabbed a flute, examining it carefully. Like he didn't even know what was in it himself. “So, this…drink–”

“Sound a little more enthusiastic babe, or I'll be really worried about what you made.” Elide interrupted.

“I'm already worried,” Rowan whispered to Aedion, face set in a perplexed grimace.

“Hush, you goons.” He waved at the other guys. They broke apart laughing. “In here there is…Gin, uh, some Limoncello and creme de Banane. And I call it the…uh, I don't know. Yellow shot?”

“...of death,” Aelin whispered to Lysandra. Who nodded solemnly. Elide looked disgusted at her fiance’s creation, but schooled it into a look of pride when he turned to her. The moment he looked away, she made a fake gagging motion to Aelin and Lysandra.

“Sounds wonderful, my dear Lorcan. Now, my great sir, would you please bring me my beverage.” Aedion declared, hands aiming to move in a dignified manner. He looked like he was trying to swat away flies.

“No.”

“It was worth a shot,” He sighed, reaching for a drink.

Aelin grabbed a flute, “Limoncello and Gin, what the hell were you aiming for here Lorcan?” She delicately sniffed at the drink. Oh god.

Plopping himself nearly onto Elide, who let out a squeak, he just shrugged. Grabbing his flute, he threw it back in one fluid motion. Everyone paused, waiting for the reaction. He swallowed, looked around, and then quickly turned away to gag and cough.

Laughter erupted.

Once everyone had a glass, clinking them together in cheers, and shot it down like Lorcan. He watched from on the couch, eyes a little watery. There was a pause as everyone swished the drink around in their mouth, tasting the flavour.

It was fucking godsawful. Aelin had never tasted anything so evil. The hint of banana flavour nearly had her spitting the drink back into the glass, and the way the Gin nearly curdled it was almost worse. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she tried to swallow. Forcing the atrocity that was Lorcan’s drink down. Catching Elide’s eye, as the woman got up and ran for the washroom. Lysandra was the only one who seemed unbothered.

“Fuck!” Aedion shouted when he could speak again. “Holy gods man, I have never put anything worse into my mouth. Ever.”

“And that's saying somethin',” Rowan choked out. Also beyond bothered by Lorcan’s monstrosity.

“You evil, evil man,” Aelin added. A shudder racking her body.

The cocktail hour carried on. Lysandra had made a mojito with cinnamon rather than mint, and it was not nearly as bad as Lorcan’s. Elide had done a ‘Sunrise Suprise’, which was simply tequila and orange juice. The ability to make a good cocktail skipped both Elide and Lorcan. Aedion had wanted to send everyone to their death, combining four different whiskeys and a melted spoonful of ice cream. It hadn't been as bad as expected, but there were much better choices out there. Rowan had mixed pickle juice and vodka, to create a dill martini. Interestingly enough, that had been the most palatable drink of the night.

When Aelin’s turn came around, she began to pull out the individual ingredients. Lining them up in the order in which she would mix. Her focus on the drinks made her unaware that another body was present in the kitchen. Until they spoke up.

“You look well,” Rowan said from the opposite end of the room, his body leaning up against the cabinets. Jumping at the sudden sound of his voice, her head snapped up. There he was, cataloguing her every move, a familiar feeling; his eyes on her.

Startled, she stared at him. And kept staring at him, not realizing she had been ogling him for a few moments. She took in the lines of his body, the way his dress pants hugged his legs. The black leather belt, cinching in his waist. The sweater – cashmere, most likely – was elegantly draped over his upper body. The hard planes of his stomach were slightly in sight as the soft material moulded to his form. Everything about Rowan meant something. And looking at him only brought back bitter-sweet memories. Her gaze snapped away when he gave a light noise of acknowledgement.

Blushing and caught, Aelin turned back to the drinks, cracking open the bottle of vodka she had slipped mint candies in a few weeks ago. She planned to let the flavours permeate the liquor and add a nice flair to her drinks. She felt Rowan’s inquisitive eyes on her every move.

“Thank you, Rowan.” Acknowledging him, she hoped he would just walk away. She wasn't strong enough to just stand here and allow him to be there. To feel the gaping divide between their beings.

Silence.

“I– Look, I need to talk to you Aelin,” He approached from the other side of the room, slipping around the counter where she was. “I know it’s not the best–”

“Rowan.” A firm command, all blushed drained. She could be strong. She could. She was back to looking at him again. Green eyes, full lips, strong jaw. The silver strands that ghosted his brow. Gods she hated how looking at him hurt her so deeply. His smile, and laughter, earlier had been the knife to the gut. His presence here now? A twisting.

“No, Aelin. I'm serious.”

“I am too.”

“Wait.” He breathed. Gentler this time. His hand stretched out, muscle memory. She knew it would land at the curve of her waist, how the weight of it would ground her. The warmth would slip under the fabric of her dress, warming her bones.

He retracted it before it got close enough, burning the neuron pathway that made the movement instinctual.

She steadied herself, leaning towards him slightly, but not enough to communicate any more interest in where this was going. “Not now, Rowan. Not now. You had your chance, let me be.”

“What chance? The fucking run-in at a cafe? That was not a ‘chance’ Aelin.” He snapped. Letting his frustration run into his tone. She hated him when he was like this. Not frustrated, no she understood that. But…seeking. She knew what he wanted, and she knew it would break her down quicker than she could turn away. Her sanity rested on the finalization of this conversation.

Smiling politely, in a way she knew brought more frustration, she turned away and began preparing the drink.

“Not now,” She whispered. More to herself, a silent prayer of resistance. She heard more than saw Rowan turn to walk away, over the entire conversation entirely. He missed the tear that raced down her cheek, or the hitch in her breath when the door swung close.

“Peppermint Cocktails!” Aelin announced, waltzing into the room with her usual charm, all emotions wiped. She avoided Rowan’s look like the plague. Offering a drink to each friend, she was pleased to hear that her concoction was the best of the night – an unsurprising win – and the group sat around talking still. The light buzz from all the alcohol had Aelin feeling looser. The unease from moments ago slipped away like sand between her fingers.

“I saw Rowan walk into the kitchen,” Elide whispered into her ear. Everyone else had been looking at a picture on Lorcan's phone.

“Mhm.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Hour Five

Rowan likes the cold.

He liked it in a way many others didn't. He liked the way it nipped at his body slowly in the beginning, a feeling that was urgently chased away by shivers. He liked it when it froze deeper. When it slowly crawled into the heat of his body, dousing it and cutting off feeling. He liked the stiffness. The slowed movement as the cold reached his core, seizing feeling. It isolated him in a way many things did not.

Sitting on the front porch of Lysandra’s apartment, he embraced the cold.

Everyone had just finished up with a game of cards, and Aedion had rushed out, forgetting some ingredients for dinner. He had excused himself, just need a moment, and walked all of three steps before stopping. Allowing his body to freeze, his cashmere sweater not saving much heat.

As he lost feeling of some body parts, he embraced the thoughts rushing through his mind, all seemingly racing in circles around the fiery blonde. The one whose embers never burnt out, but now seemed to be slowly dying. The consistent crackle and warmth of her presence, all leaking away in a manner he knew he was responsible for.

The cold he had embraced wholeheartedly was killing his fireheart.

His thoughts spun like the twirling snowflakes as they fell to the ground. Circling gently, melting away. But all things seemed to lead him back to his bedroom. To the moment this morning, before he had slipped away into the cab to make it here tonight. His thoughts brought him to the second drawer in his nightstand, underneath a notepad and tissues. In an embroidered box, sat a diamond ring, inlaid into a gold band that had sweeping leaf designs along its curves. Two emeralds set into the inside, to rub against one's finger.

All thoughts seemed to lead him back to Aelin

Hour Six, Hour Seven, Hour Eight

“Can you pass me the salt?” Lysandra called from Aelin's right. She was before the stove, stirring the gravy and watching the vegetables as they cooked in the pan.

Handing her the salt, Aelin brushed by her to grab some butter from the fridge. Needing it for the bread that would be coming out of the oven soon, steaming hot.

They worked in a comfortable silence, only waiting for Aedion to return with some forgotten ingredients. Lorcan, Elide, and Rowan were all in the living room, having not been drawn for cooking duty this year. A method that was quickly taken up once the group realized six people in the kitchen was less of a pleasant experience. Top many bossy chefs.

Post-cocktail hour, tipsy cards had commenced. And the many, many, shots of straight liquor had reached Aelin by that time. She was feeling much better, her heart no longer aching and screaming at her mind to just look at the man across from her. Rather, she had enthusiastically played cards. Letting the feeling of her family around her and the laughter that kept escaping cocoon her. Unfortunately, that joy had meant that Lorcan had swept everyone off their asses, wiping the board clean and winning the one hundred and twenty dollars put into the pot. That had sobered her up pretty quickly, arguing that he had cheated. He had just smirked.

Then when Aedion rushed out, Aelin caught sight of Rowan walking out the front door too. She had been standing at the other end of the hallway, out of his view. She had watched his expression fall as soon as he crossed the threshold. It was like night and day, the crinkle around his eyes and the brightness of his smile, wiped away. He just stepped out, closing the door softly behind him.

She had waited a moment, arguing mentally if she should go after him, until Lysandra had called, telling Aelin she needed her help.

She wasn't ready to face him alone.

“Aelin,” A soft hand was at Aelin's wrist, pausing her chopping of vegetables. She glanced up, shocked out of her reverie. Lysandra was staring at her, looking deeply into her, her brows pulled together in confusion. She must've been calling me for a minute. When it seemed Lysandra had the other woman’s attention, she added softly, “I couldn't not invite one of you.”

Dropping the knife, “Lys.” Aelin pleaded, not wanting to have this conversation. It felt like the entire night had been her running in circles around her and Rowan. Her and Rowan. Rowan and I. “Seriously, I can't do more of this.”

Lysandra paid no mind to Aelin’s plea, pushing forward. “Listen. I love you deeply, very very deeply. Sometimes I wonder why,” at that, Aelin cracked a mirthful smile. “But I see the way you two look at each other. And while I know it's not my business, I think this is something you two seriously need to talk out.” She said solemnly.

This was the point she'd been dancing around for such a long time.

Pushing the cutting board away from her, Aelin slumped into her arms, leaning against the counter.

“Did I make a mistake? Breaking up with him?” Like a breath after being underwater, Aelin let it out, asking the question that had rattled in the back of her mind for months. Breathing in a little deeper when some new space opened up because of it.

“I have my own opinions, but whether or not you made a mistake is up to you.” Lysandra was soothingly rubbing her back.

“Some days it feels like the biggest fucking mistake I've ever made, Lys. Some days it hurts so much I can't even get out of bed.”

She hummed, letting Aelin speak.

“I just– it felt right at the time. But it doesn't feel right now. How is that fair? How could I have made a decision like that? What would have happened if I stayed?”

“You wouldn't have done well, Ae. We all saw what was happening.”

“But you can't know that.” She whispered out.

“I can, and I did. Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is let go. And that's what you did, my love. Maybe something could have gotten better, but maybe not.” Lysandra took a deep breath. “I'm proud of you regardless, that's not an easy choice to make.”

“And it clearly wasn't the fucking right one.”

Lysandra's hand stopped, she grabbed onto Aelin's shoulder, squeezing firmly.

“You can say that all you want, Aelin, but ultimately it was the right choice for you at the time. You blossomed. But now? Maybe it's different. And maybe every time I see you two lovesick fools in the same room, I am simultaneously sick and overjoyed. I see his face when he looks at you Ae, like you hung the stars.”

“What's this? Therapy hour?” A loud voice broke apart their moment, jerking both women out of their moment. It was Aedion with the groceries. He was smiling widely, but it fell when he took in the expression of the other women. “Oh. Shit, sorry.”

Aelin just groaned. “And look at me now, ruining the festivities.” Watching Aedion's smile drop was just a reminder of the emotional burden she forgot to check at the door. Bringing that cloud of gloom inside. It was not fair to everyone else, they didn't deserve to bear witness to the sorrow leaking from her.

“You're not ruining anything, Aelin. Aedion, stop being an idiot.” Lysandra amended.

Aedion, clearly understanding the situation now, came over to drop the groceries on the counter and pull his cousin into a tight hug. “Lys is right. You have nothing to be sorry for. We all love you lots and want to see you happy, and if drinking shitty cocktails and spilling your gossip helps you feel better, I'll gladly do it alongside you.” He kissed her temple.

Aelin wanted to break down. This was not how she expected to spend this evening. Granted, she has predicted being in the same vicinity as Rowan would test her. Bring those choked feelings up to the surface. It would hurt just as it had when they split, as there was truly no way to prepare for seeing him again after months of no contact. Months of isolation and heartache. Months without the half that made her whole.

“Lys, baby, is the gravy supposed to bubble like that?”

“Shit!” Exclaiming, Lysandra rushed away from Aelin's side to check on her portion of dinner. Leaving Aelin, still bent over the counter, staring at the herbs she’d have to chop to sprinkle over the potatoes.

She felt a gentle shoulder push against her side, and then her cousin was beside her, close enough she could feel the warmth radiating off his huge form. “Your parents would be so proud of you, Ae. No matter what. And I think you should do what you feel is best. Even if that's walking away. I love you, we love you.” Mumbling into her ears, lower than anyone else could hear. Aelin nodded, brushing the moisture away from her face.

“I love you too, Aedion.”

“Cheers to this year!”

Glasses chimed as they clinked together, bubbly wine spilling over, onto the feast laid up on the table. Decadent smells wafted up, making Aelin's stomach rumble. She was ready to dig into the spread, and let the food smother the churning anxiety in her stomach.

She was seated next to Elide, and Aedion on her other side. Everyone else was spread around the round table – Lysandra hated the idea of a square table. Not wanting any fighting over the head of it.

Aelin had spoken to Lysandra and Aedion for a few minutes more, opening up a little about how she had been feeling. It took some pushing, given her displeasure at possibly ruining everyone's evening with her issues, but the couple had assured her that it wasn't possible. Highly doubtful of that. But it had been…cathartic, to really speak about how she had felt. How she was dealing with her wounded heart. It meant more than Aelin would realize at the moment, for the two of them to give her a little perspective.

Then, once the timer for the roast had gone off, and the main part of dinner had been pulled out of the oven, it was dressed up in the herbs Aelin had finally finished chopping – after getting a few more hugs in from both Lys and Aedion. Lys and her had started dishing up the plates and Aedion set off to cut some of the roast. Lorcan and Rowan had joined to set the table. And Elide had popped some bottles of prosecco, pouring glasses for everyone.

Seated now, in front of a plate of aromatic food, a balm for the soul, she felt the urge to voice her appreciation. “So,” she started, drawing attention from everyone, especially Rowan. “I- I wanted to say thank you. To all of you. I think… that because of the lives we live today, I really don't have the opportunity to look at all of you and say that. To be able to sit around with each of you means more than anything, and I can't imagine being anywhere else right now. It wouldn't feel right.”

“Cheers to that,” Lorcan added, a slight smile aimed in Aelin’s direction. If that wasn't the definition of a Yulemas miracle, she didn't know what else could be.

Glancing around the table, the circle of the most important people in her life, her eyes stalled upon Rowan. She meant what she said, meant every piece of it. She loved all of them. Grumpy Lorcan, meddling Lysandra. But gods, she loved Rowan, and she lied to herself every day when he was no longer a warm presence next to her. His side of the bed uncharacteristically cold. The feeling of it cooling her.

She hadn't noticed the change in the environment, her focus being locked on Rowan. Their eyes connected, as if reading each other's minds. A choked wheezing noise almost drew her away, but she couldn't. Not when she was swimming in him, not when–

SLAM

“Elide!” A shrill scream. Ripping Aelin away, she was met with a panicked Lysandra, and a horrified Lorcan.

Elide was facedown on the table, and amid chaos, Aelin noticed her chest was not rising and falling as it should. Shouts ensued, voices yelling about get her up and call an ambulance. What had happened in the seconds Aelin wasn't present. How could this have happened that quickly? What was happening!

“She can't breathe!”

“Start CPR. Now!”

“Has someone called an ambulance?”

What is going on!

Lorcan had gently laid Elide on the floor. He had his finger down her throat. His face was panicked, but he was hiding it well, focusing on Elide. Chairs were shoved back, and Lysandra was rushing away, Aedion was on the phone, Rowan was getting on his knees by Elide. They were saying something to each other. Rowan pushed Lorcan away. Lorcan fought back before he realized what was happening. Rowan placed his hands by Elide’s middle, his fingers laced together. She looked so frail there, on the floor.

Rowan started pushing down, one two three four. One two three four. Onetwothreefouronetwothreefour– What is happening!

Aelin was frozen. Frozen in fear, in disbelief, in shock. How. That's all that was going through her mind. How. It had been going so well, how could one moment lead to this? To Elide, down on the floor, not breathing as her fiance shouted panic commands at Rowan. Equally freaked out. To Aedion, shouting instructions from paramedics. Two minutes away! To Lysandra, distraught, not knowing what to do. To Aelin, standing as her best friend couldn't breathe.

Lorcan leaned down, his ear by Elide's mouth. His hand on her neck, searching. Rowan paused, breathing heavily.

Aelin thought she knew what it was to feel her heartbreak, to feel it shatter. But she had never felt it as it fell. Dropped straight out of her chest when Lorcan looked up, eyes wide as saucers, pupils fully dilated. As he looked at Rowan and a lone tear slipped from his eye, dropping down, down, down. Down to where Elide was not breathing.

Hour …

Seated in the emergency ward of the local hospital, Aelin listened to a dull Lorcan list off what had happened. She had choked. She had something lodged in her throat for so long that she passed out. It got lodged deeper. She has two broken ribs. It's not your fault Rowan. You saved her life. She had an endoscopic surgery. To remove the food. She’ll need to stay for the night. Observation.

Struck by disbelief, Aelin couldn't do anything more than trace the lines on the floor. Her hands shook, a later symptom of the shock that had paralyzed Aelin in the moment of action. As Elide was carried out to the ambulance –still not breathing – she had only stood there. Rooted to place. Snapping out of it only when Rowan said he was going to follow them to the hospital. Aelin hadn't even said anything, snapping out of her state and running to the door to grab her boots and jump into whatever car Rowan would be taking.

Only she and Rowan were at the hospital, alongside Lorcan. Aedion had made the executive decision for Lys and him to stay back. Lys had been hysterical, shouting, but shaking just as Aelin was now. She hadn't thought of them once, only what might happen to Elide. To her lovely Elide.

“But she’ll be okay?” Rowan whispered. Agony weaved into his question. He felt guilty, this Aelin knew. Even if he had saved a life, he felt guilty he had hurt someone. She could scream.

Aelin didn't hear an answer, assuming that Lorcan had nodded when Rowan let out a great sigh. Cut short by the sob that burst out. Lorcan was there in an instant, wrapping his brother up in a tight hug. She palmed her thighs, squeezing so tightly.

Eventually, Lorcan released Rowan. The both of them were slightly breathless. Eyes red and sad. Lorcan said he was going to check on Elide, and Rowan sat down next to her. For a few quiet moments, no words were exchanged. A too-real grief hung heavy in the air. They almost lost someone, and now here they were, waiting for Elide to be here again. Because she almost wasn't. She was so close to not being here anymore.

Standing up abruptly, “I- I have to go.” Aelin walked off, not waiting for an answer from Rowan. She was walking quickly through the halls, adrenaline coursing through her so quickly she could barely breathe. And then her breath was coming too quickly. And then she was running, running for the exit. And in her haste, she didn't hear the other feet running after her.

All she could hear was her breath. Elide’s lack of.

She slammed through the front doors, flat-out sprinting now. She had no idea where to go, and it was snowing hard. The wind whipped at her dress-clad form – she hadn't grabbed her jacket. But she kept running. Tripping up on ice, pelted by the rising blizzard. She had no idea where she was, but the blood rushing in her ears, and her hyperventilating had her in a dizzying state.

“AELIN!” A voice roared. She couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, completely surrounded by falling snow, as it blocked out the light. Spinning wildly, she could feel the tears as they rushed down her face, freezing on her cheeks.

She was panting, barely in control, when Rowan came from her side, nearly slamming into her and knocking them both over. He was breathing heavily too. His hair was out of place and his eyes were wild.

“What were you thinking!” He yelled, grabbing onto her. “You can't fucking run like that! Aelin! What the fuck!” His tone kept increasing. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Unlike Elide. No movement, no breaths. No breaths, no breath, not breathi-

“Aelin! AELIN! Look at me!”

Her eyes were wild, nails pressing into Rowan’s biceps as she held onto him for dear life. Where was she, where was she, wherewasshe…

A chilled hand grabbed her chin, pulling her – not roughly – to look into Rowan’s frantic gaze. Her breathing wasn't slowing, and Rowan’s gaze was unbreakable. He was whispering something, his lips moving. Aelin watched as they moved, shifting up, down. The corners of his mouth pinching. Another hand came up, and her face was now being cradled between Rowan’s large hands. And she saw his lips still moving, and then the crease in his brow, the worry dancing in his eyes. And then she was pressed against his warm chest.

Her head was against his heart. The thump-thump a grounding. She felt her breathing start to ease, felt arms tighten around her. Felt as she leaned further into Rowan. The tears falling faster now, but her breaths slowing enough that her brain could finally catch up. To where she was. Where she was, here in Rowan’s arms. In Rowan’s ar–

“No!’ She shouted shoving away from him, breaking the cage that was his grasp. “No! No, no, no!”

Rowan just let his arms drop, hanging by his sides. His expression was one of worry, and confusion. Frustration and dismay. “What?” He said. His voice carried through the snowstorm.

“Dont– Dont do that!” Aelin sobbed out, hands going to her hair. Pulling at the roots and turning around aimlessly.

“Do what.” His hands clenched. His worry wiped away, a vexed expression appearing instead.

“Do that! Care for me! Stop!” She kept shouting, the snow thoroughly soaking her now. The chill seeping into her bones.

“Care for you? What?” He shouted back. “What the fuck do you mean Aelin!”

“I mean, don't come r-rushing after me! Don't fucking p-pretend you care!”

“Pretend I care?!” He took a step forward, she took one back. An undecipherable look crossed his face, before it was set back into a frown. His shoulders lined with tension, and fists opening and closing around nothing. “Aelin, what do you mean?”

“You don't care. S-so don't c-come running after m-me like you do!” The chills were shaking her body now, and she wrapped her arms around herself as tightly as possible, trying to keep in body heat. The storm was getting worse. Rowan’s image was getting blurrier, maybe it was her tears, still flowing freely. Along with her nose.

“What… Aelin– I,” His hand went to his hair, raking through the soaked strands before pulling. “I chased after you because you fucking ran away hyperventilating! Out of a hospital! Into a fucking blizzard! What do you think I’d do? Sit there like an idiot and let you freeze to death or get hit by a car?!”

“It doesn-”

“Yes it does! Yes, it fucking does!”

“Why!” She screamed, shaking and watching as Rowan stepped forward. This time she didn't step back.

“Aelin.” He said, this time it was more of a command, a telling. “Are you asking me why I’d come for you?”

She considered it for a second, then nodded.

A moment passed before Rowan's face morphed into one of genuine pain.

“Because I would always fucking follow you! And I would always make sure you are okay, no matter what.” He snapped. “And I'm sorry I can't turn my feelings off as easily as you, but watching you walk away, no matter what, it fucking kills me!”

There was a pause as the words sunk in, as Rowan’s chest rose and fell with laboured breaths, as his eyes traced her face for any hint – of anything.

“You what?” Aelin squeaked out. Not knowing if the question was swallowed up by the storm until Rowan took a tentative step forward. Then another, then they were just a few breaths apart.

“I would always follow you, Aelin,” He whispered, face drawn in sorrow. Her cheeks hurt from the frozen tears, but they warmed at his confession. “Because… because I still love you. Still so, so much. Ae, it hurts.”

“What,” She said, more to herself. But Rowan's face crumpled, and she felt the fall directly in her heart.

“Aelin,” He whispered, reaching for her hand that was tucked under her exposed bicep. Slowly freezing. She let him grab the hand, warming it between his palms, and then pulling her forward to place it on his heart. “I have missed you every day, and I- I couldn't do anything about it, ‘cause I fucked it up in the first place. I made you have to leave. And so I watched you walk away. I let you,” He took a deep breath. “I never wanted that to happen. Ever. But I did, and… gods Aelin, I’ve never regretted something more in my life.”

She just looked up at him. Not really believing the words she was hearing, because how could this be possible?

“Rowan…” Her lips were turning blue, and she could barely feel her legs. She was going to freeze out here, in the midst of a blizzard, as she heard her ex-boyfriend tell her how he messed up, how he missed her.

A tear fell on his face, and she watched it trail down. “I love you, Fireheart. I still love you. I am in love with you.” He shook his head, his hair had froze. “I'm sorry.”

“Rowan, I t-thought you wanted m-me gone. I thought it w-wasnt working.” Her teeth were clacking together so hard, she could barely get the words out. That and the weird feeling erupting from inside her.

“I never wanted you gone, Ae. I was just so… I didn't realize what I had– what we had.”

“And now y-you do?” She mumbled, her feelings dancing on the edge of a knife.

His pine-green eyes scanned her face so quickly, moving over every feature. As if he was re-memorizing them all. She watched his throat work.

“Ae… I don’t know how to– I,” He closed his eyes.

Aelin took in her hand on his chest, the tear tracks along his beautiful face. The soaked sweater. Her frozen body, and she took a chance, stepping forward, pressing up.

Rowan must have sensed a change, because his eyes snapped open, searching, before finding Aelin closer than she had been in months.

“Rowan…” She breathed, “I love you so godsdamned much.” She slung her arms around his neck, and pressed a cold kiss onto his stunned lips. He didn't react for a second, and she almost darted away, before she was pulled back.

Her lips crashed back into Rowan, into a fiery and all-consuming kiss that warmed her from head to toe. Rowan's hands moved all over, making purchase along her frozen body. Never settling, like he didn't realize she was real.

There, in the middle of a raging blizzard, Aelin got back what she had been searching for. Her other half. The man who was only everything to her, all along, and forever.

Once Rowan had realized that Aelin might actually contract hypothermia, he had rushed her back to the hospital, where she was treated for minor frostbite, and then released soon after. The pair had visited a sleeping Elide and tired Lorcan, before heading back to the house to update Lysandra and Aedion. Once they had gotten past them, Rowan had gone up to their room to run a bath for Aelin.

Lysandra had told Aelin she could take Lorcan and Elide’s room – given that they wouldn't be home that night – and when she had objected, saying she preferred her room, Aedion and Lysandra had looked at each other questioningly. But they let her go without a fuss, Lysandra already planning to get this information out of the woman.

Aelin had paid them no heed, moving lethargically upstairs, where she found Rowan sprinkling some of the petals from the rose into the bath.

She had kissed him, and then gotten distracted kissing him, before timidly inviting him into the bath as well. He agreed, and the two of them spent a gentle moment together, not initiating anything further, but Aelin sunk into the feeling of Rowan, of having him back in her life, in her heart.

When they had both pruned up, Rowan hopped out and brought the towels over, drying the both of them off. Running on the dregs of her earlier adrenaline rush, Aelin leaned heavily into Rowan as he got her ready for bed. The soft moment bringing her back to where she felt safe, where she knew she belonged. And when Rowan picked her up bridal style, gently laying her on her side of the bed, tucking her in and then crawling in behind her, she knew she was home.

“I love you, Rowan.”

“I love you, Aelin.”

Hours Later

That morning, when they went as a group to visit Elide and Lorcan in the hospital, carrying some gingerbread cookies, flowers and a present for Elide, they found the couple asleep together in bed. Lorcan's large body curled protectively around Elide, his great arms placed with a delicateness reserved only for the woman he loved. They had tried to backtrack – let them sleep – only for Elide to snap at them. Telling them to get their asses back in the room because she wants to spend Yulemas morning with her family.

Aelin could have cried happy tears, and she had. Rushing forward to hug Elide. Careful of her ribs, and the giant man behind her. She had cried into her arms. Mumbling incoherent words into the woman's skin. And soon she was joined by Lysandra, who was equally as teary. Lorcan had mumbled something about wanting to spend the morning with his fiance and had slipped off the bed with a groan, headed elsewhere. His spot was quickly replaced by the two other women. All of them snuggling up together. Rowan had snapped a quick photo.

Aedion and Rowan pulled up chairs, and Rowan grabbed an extra for Lorcan when he returned. Chattering happily, Elide was in the center of her family. And even if she had been in pain, had almost died, she was forgetting about it instantly with their arrival. And she sat with them for the entire morning, basking in the love so freely available.

And when it was time for them to leave, she didn't miss the way Rowan folded his arms around Aelin, and the beaming smile she reserved for him. The way their hands snaked together when they thought no one was looking. And the kiss Rowan dropped onto Aelin's brow as they walked off, away. Intertwined again.

Taglist: @backtobl4ck // @goddess-aelin

Thank you for reading!! Happy holidays to you all :))))

#rowaelin #throne of glass #aelinschild #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin x rowan #rowaelin au #aelin fireheart #rowan x aelin #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius

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writtenonreceipts · 3 months

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In honor of my birthday I'm sharing some blogs and stories that I love and mean the world to me!

@shyvioletcat

Beautiful brilliant creator that you are! You're simply a wonderful soul and such a delight in the fandom. It's always such a delight to see you come across my dash. Not only with your fics but everything else, the humor, the other fandoms, and just being you!

>>It Takes Two--One of my biggest comfort reads. Honestly I re-read this one on the regular. I love the way you capture Aelin and Rowan and their personalities. The tension and the growth in this fic is one of my favorite things.

>>Striking Matches--Second biggest comfort reads. I get a stupid grin every time I read it and will scream my adoration from the rooftops. It's just such a delight in seeing how you created this story from various prompts and tropes. I love it! And even the tiny bits of elorcan, haha, my fav.

>>Fish are Friends--We all know I am a fool for single parent fics and this one is just wonderful. Its fun and cute and just a great read.

>>Dressing Room Drama--Have I mentioned how much I love how you capture Aelin and Rowan's dynamic?

Really, anything by Caitlin is worth reading. Thanks for all you do for the fandom friend!

#shout out #rowaelin recs #fic recs #shyvioletbrilliantmindofafriend

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rowaelinscourt · 9 months

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Masterlist for the Rowaelin Secret Santa Gifts! Thank-you everyone who participated and everyone who has shown love to these fabulous creators! This fandom wouldn't be the same without each and everyone of you <3

Season of Forgiveness by @aelinschild

Mistletinder by @backtobl4ck

Feels Like Home by @goddess-aelin

The Universal Rules of Mistletoe by @leiawritesstories

Rowaelin Dancing (art) by @sahana-draws

sleep in heavenly peace (art) by @sassyhobbits

In From the Snow by @shyvioletcat

Our Solstice Miracle by @tomtenadia

Until the Dust Settles by @writtenonreceipts

>>let us know if a link doesn't work!<<

#rowaelin #rowaelin secret santa #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius

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punkassbookjockey26 · 2 years

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Show and Tell

Yo yo yo, waddup. It's been a while since I posted anything, and not gonna lie, I'm not even sure if this is any good. But here it is.

Thank you to @shyvioletcat for providing the inspo for this story. Although, I did take a few liberties lol.

Rating: PG? PG-13? Who knows?

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

“Alright, everyone – let’s get our listening ears on and catch a bubble in your mouth!”

Rowan Whitethorn always felt a bit silly pulling on his ears and puffing out his cheeks, but whatever got his rambunctious group of Kindergarteners to quiet down was worth it. When pursuing a degree in education, he didn’t think he wanted to be in a classroom full of five and six-year-olds, but he had such a fantastic experience while student teaching that it seemed like a waste to be anywhere else.

“Now remember, we’re doing show-and-tell today. What do we do when our friends are up here talking?”

“Listen!” A chorus of children practically yelled it at him, and he smiled widely.

“That’s right. We listen, and we pay attention to what they’re saying. Now, is there anyone that wants to go first?”

Several children shot their hands straight up in the air, but one, in particular, was practically bouncing in her seat, almost too excited about getting selected. Everly Galathynius was a very precocious child. She had an overabundance of energy and effusiveness for a five-year-old that surprised even him. He had learned early on that when she felt emotions, she felt them strongly. Happy, sad, angry, upset – it didn’t matter. It was always a production.

It wasn’t that she was a bad kid. She loved school and being around her classmates. She caught onto concepts quickly and had a bright openness that made everyone want to be her friend. She was also fiercely competitive and wanted to be first in everything, whether answering questions or being a line leader. Needless to say that Rowan was not surprised to see her tiny hand shoot up in the air.

If there was anything that Everly struggled with, it was waiting her turn. Patience was not a strong trait that she possessed, and Rowan was adamant that she learn at least some measure of it before she left his classroom. So he purposefully selected another one of her classmates to come up first and almost laughed at the enormous pout that spread across her face.

His amusement only grew when he continued to ignore her pouting and called other members of her class up to share. Everly was practically vibrating in her chair when Rowan finally decided it was her turn. He barely finished calling out her name before she sprinted to the front of the classroom with her backpack, her two blonde pigtails flying behind her.

Rowan sighed. “Everly, you know we’re not supposed to run in school.”

Her excitement didn’t even dim for a second. “I know, but I want to share!”

He supposed it was his fault for keying her up with his impromptu “lesson,” but this child was going to be the death of him. “Alright then. Go ahead.”

Everly took a deep breath and pulled out what she had brought from her backpack. “Today, I brought my mama’s favorite toy!”

Rowan quirked a skeptical eyebrow toward the young child in front of him. “Your mother has a favorite toy?”

“Yes! I found it a while ago, and she told me. She keeps it in her room and won’t let me play with it, even though I ask really nice. But today, I found it in the bathroom!”

Everly dug through her bag as Rowan had a brief moment of clarity. But before he could reach the front and stop, she displayed the item she had brought high above her head like a trophy.

It was a vibrator.

A hot pink, glittery vibrator.

And Rowan was now in hell.

“Okay, that’s enough now, Everly!” Rowan exclaimed hastily. “Thank you for sharing! Let’s go ahead and put that away now!”

Everly took a step back and pouted. “But you let Declan share! I wanna share!”

Rowan stepped in front of her, blocking the view of the class. “You did share, Everly. And now it’s time for you to put it away.”

“No! I waited forever, and now I want to share! Please let me share!” She was near tears, and Rowan knew he had about two seconds to solve this before he had a full-on meltdown on his hands. He was quite unsure how to handle the situation, though. It wasn’t like they taught him this in undergrad. But he needed to remove the... object from his classroom, stat.

He hesitated, and Everly took full advantage immediately, darting to the opposite side of the classroom, still holding the vibrator above her head. “I didn’t even get to show the best part!”

Oh, dear god.

A loud buzzing noise filled the classroom, and his students were suddenly very interested in what Everly had in her hands. His students crowded around her, excited to see her new “toy.” Rowan forced himself through the throng to reach the perpetrator of the insanity, deftly plucking the offending object from her hands.

There was a moment of stunned silence before all hell broke loose in his classroom.

------

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose, running through what he would say to a Ms. Aelin Galathynius about why he needed to speak with her urgently regarding her daughter. He hadn’t met her yet if he remembered correctly. Everly and her mother were noticeably absent at the parent night a few weeks back, and she hadn’t responded to any of the previous requests he sent out to meet. It was exceptionally bad luck that their first meeting would be him discussing how her daughter managed to get ahold of a vibrator and bring it to school.

Everly sat dutifully in the corner, her eyes cast down on the floor and her blonde pigtails hanging limply off her head. Realistically, he knew he shouldn’t punish Everly. She was five and couldn’t possibly know her item was inappropriate or how it was used. But that didn’t negate that Rowan now had to talk to a woman he had never met about her masturbatory aids.

They sat in uncomfortable silence until Rowan heard the sharp unmistakable clacking of heels hitting the tile floors outside his classroom. The door pushed open, and while he hadn’t known what to expect, he hadn’t expected an impossibly gorgeous golden-haired woman dressed in an impeccable business suit glaring at him with anger scorching hot.

“Is there a reason you’re holding my daughter hostage, Mr. Whitethorn?”

Her hands were placed on her hips, her full lips downturned in a deep frown, and Rowan couldn’t help but be stunned by the fiery woman standing before him. He almost forgot why he needed to speak with her, but he quickly regained composure when it became apparent that she was surveying him like a lioness ready to pounce.

Rowan cleared his throat and came to greet her. “Ms. Galathynius, thank you for coming today. I need just a moment of your time to speak about what happened with Everly in class today.”

“Is she in trouble?” The blonde quirked her eyebrow at him.

“Well…no, not exactly.” Rowan flushed, rubbing his hand behind his neck.

“Was she hurt? Did you allow someone to bully her?”

Anger flared inside him. “Excuse me, Ms. Galathynius, but seeing as you have never met with me or really know anything about what happens in this classroom, I resent the accusation that you think I would ever allow any child to be bullied.”

She rolled her eyes, dismissing his anger. “Okay, well, if she’s not in trouble, hurt, or being bullied, why are you wasting my time?”

Rowan felt the indignation surge at the audacity of this woman. “ I didn’t realize that your daughter’s well-being was a waste of your time. Perhaps I should have called her father instead to help with this matter.”

Rowan visibly saw her shoulders tense. “He wouldn’t have cared, just like he didn’t care when he chose to walk out of her life four years ago to make a brand new family with his brand new wife.”

Her venomous admission momentarily stunned Rowan as she stared him down, and he felt some of the anger filter out of him. Regardless of the situation, he needed to understand why he had asked her to meet. “Ms. Galathynius, I apologize for that comment. It was uncalled for –

“You’re damn right it was.”

“- However, I do need to discuss with you the nature of Everly’s show-and-tell contribution today.”

She sighed deeply, and Rowan watched all the anger drain from her lithe body. “Alright, then. What happened during show-and-tell today?”

Rowan paused a moment before walking back to his desk. He pulled open the top drawer and gestured to the offending object, now stashed in a Ziploc bag and lying on a stack of papers.

He watched as Ms. Galathynius lifted an eyebrow in suspicion before rounding his desk to peer at what he was trying to show her. Her color completely drained as she took in the pink, glittery vibrator nestled inside the drawer. She looked back up at him with shocked eyes, a heavy silence hanging in the air.

Rowan wondered how long it would take for someone to break the silence. He had been mortified knowing that he would need to have this conversation. And although it hadn’t started out quite the way he had planned, he wanted to spare Everly’s mother the indignity of shoving her personal private life back in her face.

Ms. Galathynius stepped back, and Rowan noted the bright red heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck. She turned towards her daughter, clearing her throat. “Everly Grace, can you come here for a moment, please?”

Rowan watched as Everly gingerly slid out of her chair and shuffled towards her mother. She looked up with wide eyes lined with tears, and it broke Rowan’s heart. She hadn’t been in trouble with him, not really, but he couldn’t explain why he had to take her ‘toy’ away and why she couldn’t keep showing it to the class. The tantrum that ensued had been nothing short of legendary.

Her mother cleared her throat. “Everly, love, can you tell mama why you took her…um… special toy to school today?”

Everly perked up a bit, smiling at her mother. “I heard you talking about how much you like it with Auntie Lys the other day!”

The red on her face deepened, and Rowan stifled a laugh. Everly’s mother continued. “And you know you’re not supposed to go into mama’s room without permission, right?”

The brightness on her daughter’s face dimmed. “I know, mama, but I really, really wanted to share it because you said you like it so much! I like sharing my toys, too!”

Rowan couldn’t help it. A snort escaped him at the exchange, and Everly’s mother glared in his direction. Despite the hell this child had put him through today, her absolute innocence in the situation was damn near comical. And if he weren’t so embarrassed about the position he and her mother were now in, he likely would have laughed when it happened.

It sure explained a few things, though.

Her mother sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Sweetie, can you please wait right outside the door? I need to speak with your teacher alone. Just wait right there, and I’ll be out in a minute.”

The second the door shut behind Everly, Ms. Galathynius snatched her vibrator from the drawer and stuffed it deep in her purse. She turned to look at him, her hands back on her hips but with a noticeable flush still lingering on her skin.

“So, I suppose this is the part where I apologize for being a pill, but seeing as my child has embarrassed me enough today, I’m not going to.”

There was a beat of silence before both of them burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, I had no idea what to do with your child today, Ms. Galathynius. She ran around the room, waving it above her head like a flag. She even managed to turn it on, and that was a whole thing by itself.”

Everly’s mother wiped tears away from her eyes as her laughter died down. “Please, call me Aelin. And I swear, I had no idea she snuck into my room this morning. She told me that she was bringing her doll today. Serves me right for trusting my child.”

“Oh, so you know how your child behaves sometimes?” Rowan smirked down at her, and she rolled her eyes, albeit playfully this time.

“Would you believe me if I told you she got it from her father?”

Rowan pretended to think about it for a moment. “After meeting you today? Absolutely not.”

He smiled widely at her, and she returned it with a grin, momentarily stunning him for the second time that day. It transformed her whole demeanor. Gone was the stubborn mother who accused him of allowing her child to be bullied. Instead, Rowan had a beautiful woman standing before him, with hair spun like silk and bright turquoise eyes ringed in gold.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back away from Aelin just to get some distance. “Just one question, though.”

Aelin cocked her head to the side. “What’s that?”

“Grace? Really?”

Aelin's answering laugh drew him right back in. "I was hoping she would take after her name, but here we are."

She smiled at him again, and walked out the door to his classroom. Rowan felt himself warm with that smile, and watched as the door slid shut, wondering if he would ever have a chance to see her again.

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#rowaelin #rowaelin month #rowaelin court #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin and rowan #aelin x rowan #modern au #songfic #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #fanfic #fanfiction #pabj26writing

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bookofmirth · 1 year

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hiii pls rec your fave rowaelin fics ❤️👑

oh my goodness okay, well I haven't read them in a long time and so all of my favorite ones are really old, but I love this one and this one which are both smutty, pwp. @writtenonreceipts has a lot of rowaelin fanfic! As well as @shyvioletcat.

I have written quite a few things for them as well, not to toot my own horn, but I have them sorted here. Some of them are one-shots and some of them are incomplete long fics. I periodically think about In That Dim Light, A Spark which is sitting at 60k and I ended on a cliffhanger five a few years ago, whoops.

If other people have recommendations please feel free to include them here! I haven't been keeping up with them well enough to give current recs.

#rowaelin #ask #aelinsolo

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tswaney17 · 8 months

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Hey! I thought it was you who wrote it but now I'm not sure. I'm looking for a TOG fic titled It Takes Two??? I read it on Tumblr a while ago and desperately wanna reread it. Can you help??

Hello friend!

It was not me, but I do know who wrote it! @shyvioletcat did and here’s the link to the fic. It’s a good one. 🩷 Enjoy!! https://www.tumblr.com/shyvioletcat/188674729791/it-takes-two-masterlist-when-a-drunken-argument

#ask #anon #anonymous #fic rec

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live-the-fangirl-life · 1 year

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Hi! 👋

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morganofthewildfire · 2 years

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The Best Things Always Are

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@shyvioletcat and @house-of-galathynius you guys have put me in the baby fic mood 😂 so enjoy this little oneshot, i wrote it in like an hour

~1.7k words

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Aelin stared at the test in front of her, not believing what was right in front of her eyes. She knew it was a possibility, knew she and Rowan had had a few times where their passion had made them a little less careful, but it was still a shock to see those two lines staring back at her.

She’d started feeling nauseous a few days before, and had been unusually tired and snappy. She’d thought it was just her period, as she always felt it badly, but when she checked her tracker and realized she was already two weeks late, she’d gone to the convenience store nearby.

Taking a pregnancy test in a communal bathroom hadn’t been ideal, and she’d debated between staying in the stall or going back to her dorm room to wait for the results, but in the end she’d stayed there. Her roommate was due to get home at any time, and she hadn’t wanted to deal with that at the same time.

Especially with who it was.

After moving thousands of miles away from her hometown for college, having gotten a crazy difficult acceptance to the prestigious University of Doranelle, she’d had to pick a random roommate. Leaving her with Remelle LaFleur.

She hated the girl, and the feeling was clearly mutual. From move in day to now, their relationship had never been anything less than tense.

In fact, Rowan had been the only good thing to come out of college so far. Sure the education was great, and she didn’t regret choosing here over the University of Terrasen, but she hadn’t exactly found her place socially yet.

She and Rowan had met at the beginning of the summer semester. It’d been a requirement of her acceptance, that she started early in the summer instead of in the fall with everyone else. It essentially meant her academics were good, but not quite good enough for regular acceptance. Aelin just took what she could get.

Rowan Whitethorn was a sophomore already, and they’d met in one of her classes: Survey of Doranellian Literature. It was an introduction class for her major, and one for his minor, and they’d ended up sitting next to each other. It’d been a whirlwind of a summer, starting from rivals, to rivals with benefits, to weirdly friends with benefits, to finally admitting feelings by the start of the fall semester. Gods she read too much.

They’d really only been officially dating for two months. What the hell was she going to say?

Aelin let out a shaky sigh, curling her legs under herself as she sat on her bed and stared down at the test. A stray tear slipped out of her eye and she wiped it away before it fell down her cheek. Her heart was already beating fast, but the more she sat there the more panicky she began to feel.

Gods. How the hell was she supposed to do this? What the hell was she supposed to do?

She shoved herself off her bed, pacing back and forth across the pink rug Remelle had bought. Most of the decor in the room was hers; Aelin had been confined to just her bed and her desk, which was just a tiny corner of the room.

Whatever, she spent most of her time at Rowan’s apartment anyway.

Rowan.

How in Hellas was she going to tell him? She scrubbed at her face with her hands, her head aching horribly.

The distinct sound of the door unlocking reached her ears and Aelin straightened immediately, shoving the test in the pocket of her sweatpants. Remelle sauntered into the room, throwing her bag on her bed without even acknowledging her.

Aelin didn’t say anything either.

She’d luckily been able to room on her own for the summer, but these two months she’d been dealing with Remelle had been pure hell. She always had a gaggle of friends with her, caring little to none about Aelin’s personal space and her input on the decorum in their room.

There’d been multiple times already this semester that Remelle had brought guys back to the room, not caring that Aelin was there. Aelin took those opportunities to go over to Rowan’s place, which led to their own activities. Which led to now.

Remelle had pulled out her phone and was already chatting with someone on facetime, so Aelin just grabbed her keys and slid on her shoes, heading out of the dorm.

It didn’t take long to get outside, and once she was she was glad she had on her University of Doranelle sweatshirt. Well, Rowan’s University of Doranelle sweatshirt. They were well into fall, and it was already cold outside.

The cold air made her eyes water even more, and she wiped her face with the sleeve to stop the tears from spilling once again. She barely even registered the walk before she was at the main campus plaza, tucked on a bench away from the main lawn. Crowds of people were gathered in various places, laughing and chatting, or even studying, laptops and textbooks scattered across the place.

Aelin just curled up on the bench, staring blankly until her phone rang.

She felt disconnected from her body as she reached for it, not even looking at the screen as she answered it.

“Hey baby,” Rowan’s voice came warmly, and Aelin felt tears gathering again. “I just wanted to see what you were up to, if you wanted to grab some coffee.”

Coffee sounded wonderful, but at the sharp realization that she couldn’t even have real coffee anymore - a sob escaped her.

She covered her mouth quickly, trying to hide the sound, but it was too late.

“Aelin?” her boyfriend asked, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“No,” she croaked out, shaking her head. She couldn’t lie to him. “I’m not.”

She could hear shuffling on his end, like he was getting up, and the distinct sound of a door opening and closing. Aelin couldn’t stop her tears.

“Hey, where are you?” He asked, his keys jingling in the background. “Are you at your dorm?”

She sniffed, croaking out another no. “I’m at the plaza,” she answered weakly.

“Okay, I’m on my way,” Rowan said, “I’ll be there soon.”

Aelin hung up after that, wiping her face with both sleeves of his sweatshirt in a pointless attempt to stop the tears. Well, at this point she was just trying not to draw stares. She was in a more secluded part of the plaza, under some trees and off to the side, but she still didn’t want to draw too much attention.

She rested her hand on the front of the sweatshirt, clutching the dark blue material, as she waited for him. She didn’t know how much time passed, but soon enough Rowan was sliding onto the bench next to her, his silvery brows furrowed.

All he needed to do was look at her like that, with so much love, and she collapsed into his arms, crying a bit hysterically. She couldn’t quite catch a breath, but she tried to calm herself down, relaxing into his grip. Rowan was running a hand up and down her back soothingly, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

Eventually her tears slowed and she took a few deep breaths, head burrowed in Rowan’s neck.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked quietly, and Aelin slowly pulled back, wiping at the mascara streaks undoubtedly on her face. A quick glance around showed no one was paying attention, and with a thump of her heart she reached into her pocket, emerging with the pregnancy test.

She handed it to him and tucked her knees into her chest as she waited for him to process the revelation. All he was doing was staring down at the piece of plastic, his face unreadable. And the longer it took, the more nerves fluttered through her.

“I took it this morning,” she said weakly. “I don’t know how long it’s been.”

Her lips started to tremble again as he loosed a breath, nodding his head before looking up at her.

“You’re pregnant,” Rowan said simply, and she nodded back, wiping at her face again.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence fell over them again and she tucked her chin onto her knees, looking at him warily. But then he smiled softly.

“There’s a little us in there,” he said, and it was so unexpected a small laugh escaped her.

“I suppose there is,” Aelin said, sniffing. He was looking at her so lovingly that she felt warmth spread throughout her whole body, but she couldn’t fight the fear. “What are we going to do?” She whispered, and he sighed, turning to face her properly.

He reached out a hand, grabbing hers on the bench gently.

“Whatever you choose to do,” he said softly. “I will be right there by your side.” He shrugged, looking confident and strong, and she sought out that strength. “I have savings, I’ll get a job, you can move in with me or stay in your dorm for however long you want. We can kick Remelle out and live there,” he said with a smile, making her chuckle. “But just know that I will help you through this. I’m not going to abandon either of you.”

He gripped her hand tightly when he said that, looking at her intently, and she nodded, breathing in shakily. She believed him.

“I’m scared,’ she admitted quietly, and he pulled her into his arms again, brushing a hand through her golden locks.

“I am too,” he said just as quietly, and somehow the admission made her feel better. “But hey,” he said, pulling back and smiling down at her. “You’re going to be an amazing mother.”

Aelin smiled back at him, a watery smile. But - “It’s not supposed to happen like this,” she said, shaking her head. “We’re in college, Rowan. I’m eighteen years old. I can’t be a mother. I don’t know how.”

Rowan just grabbed her hand again, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“It’s certainly unexpected,” he said, and she nearly chuckled again at the sheer understatement. “But the best things always are.”

Aelin sighed heavily, resting her forehead against his. Their hands were still interlocked, but his other one went to rest on her stomach through his sweatshirt.

“I love you,” she whispered, the words foreign yet so familiar. She’d never said them to him before. But it was true.

Rowan smiled, saying “I love you,” before leaning in to kiss her softly. “And I love our baby, too.”

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#rowaelin fic #rowaelin #rowaelin au #throne of glass #throne of glass fanficiton #throne of glass au

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highqueenofelfhame · 1 year

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

rowaelin // 7k words // masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

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

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

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

“I just want to do a good job.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

“Nobody.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gods above, he needed to get a grip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

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

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

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

“I can go. I didn’t mean to fall—”

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

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

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

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

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