#we were robbed of more pining in qos so i am legally required to give yall as much of it as i can

[cicada-bones]

Could we get a snippet of The Warrior and The Wildfire please?

Hi! so first of all im so sorry for leaving this in my inbox unanswered for like 2 months, second of all i have graduated!!!! So now ive got some free time!!!! Extra long snippet for you guys as a treat (and perhaps a bit of a bribe lmao) for being so patient and nice to me ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Rowan spent the better part of dinner trying to convince Aelin to say something, anything, about what their next step was. How he could help, what she was doing with the money she get from the bank that day, even just what she planned for them tomorrow morning.

But Aelin just smiled that pretty smile of hers, and munched on a spare bit of toast. Apparently, all she could cook was breakfast. Rowan had to keep himself from smiling, and remembering all the ruined meals she had made back at Mistward. Those few nights they had spent around the fire, beneath the trees. He really should have tried harder to teach her how to cook.

Rowan would never regret coming to Rifthold, even though it had been against her direct orders. But he wished he could spirit her away from here, from this dank city, crawling with people and shrouded in the scent of monsters. Wished he could be back in the wild again, where the air felt clean and open all around him. Where his magic wasn’t crushed deep within him, so tightly that it made his skin crawl.

He had slowly gotten used to the feeling, though it was still uncomfortable. And every now and then, tremors would still wrack his muscles, making him shiver in discomfort. But they were getting less and less.

He could adapt, he could endure.

Aedion kept silent through most of his cajoling, either still nursing a grudge from their fight this morning, or already accepted it as a lost cause.

Aelin had decided to keep them in the dark, and Rowan would just have to figure out how to live with it. He just wished that he could explain to her that she didn’t need to bear this burden on her own, that the reason he was here wasn’t only because he wanted to be. She deserved help, and so much more than he could offer her.

So once again, they separated after dinner, Aedion moving into his bedroom while Aelin pulled Rowan into hers. Again, he grumbled as she insisted that he share her bed, but he put up far less resistance than he knew he should.

Aelin went to wash her face in the bathroom, and Rowan turned to the window, stripping off his weapons and extra clothing. It was dark in the bedroom, so he knew no one could see in. But still, he scanned the nearby streets and rooftops, watching and listening for anything untoward.

Of course, he didn’t notice anything. But when had Lorcan ever been known to leave a trace?

Rowan sighed and turned to slide between Aelin’s cloud-soft sheets, forcing down the guilt that pooled in his stomach. He knew it was a mistake to let her get so close, to let their scents get even more tangled up in each other. But he just couldn’t help it.

It was an inexpressible comfort, to have her so close, almost wrapped in his arms. It made him settle, feeling the undeniable truth of her safety.

Or it would settle him, if she wasn’t so insistent on provoking him with her scandalous clothes every night.

This time, the nightgown was a delicate blue. The soft silk hem stroked over the tops of her breasts like petals, and those paper-thin straps barely held the dress in place on her shoulders.

So narrow, so light, so easily brushed out of place –

Rowan shook himself, barely keeping his gaze from dragging down further, and glimpsing what awaited below. But that meant he couldn’t miss the brazen confidence of Aelin’s smile. As if she knew he was fighting a battle doomed to loss.

Aelin slipped into place beside him in bed, the silk billowing over her chest as she turned on her side to face him. “So, what do you think? Pink, or blue? Personally, I’m more fond of the pink, but I figured I’d test this one out, see where your preferences might lie.”

Rowan just clenched his jaw, scowling at her.

Aelin laughed at him.

···

 Within a few moments, she was asleep, her breathing calm and even, eyelids fluttering with night visions. But once again, Rowan lay awake. Trying in vain to calm his blood.

It kept seeming to get worse and worse, more and more difficult. He had wanted her in Wendlyn, during those many nights they had spent together in the fortress. But his ties to Maeve had kept the desire in check for him. He had wanted her during those nights they had traveled together back from Doranelle, especially that first night, the night he had given her that tattoo. But abstaining, keeping himself and what he wanted in check, hadn’t been so difficult.

Now, it felt like trying to move mountains with his bare hands.

And seeing that ghost of Lyria today, seeing that remnant, that reminder of her, it had pulled all of his fear and doubt right back into place.

Hearing Lyria in his head again, those screams of agony…it had been far more complex than just pain. There was so much guilt there. And not that old, familiar guilt of his unforgivable failure. It was new guilt. Fresh and hot and roiling in his stomach.

The guilt of having fallen for another. And seeing Lyria, or at least this facsimile of her, and not being cleaved in two, not being rent through with agony – had him stunned in place. Unable to move.

Not with pain, but with shame. It was only the echo of a remembered hurt, one he had held on to for far, far too long. But one that Rowan knew he should still be holding on to. One that he knew should weigh on him until his deathday. And it honestly scared him more than he could admit, scared him senseless, scared him motionless, that this wouldn’t be true.

He had betrayed her once again. Betrayed Lyria in death, even. And Rowan had no idea how he could possibly atone for such a deep, yet wholly unexpected, betrayal.

And then Aelin had taken him to the theater. She had taken him to this small sanctuary from her past and she had reminded him of just how beautiful she was. And not the beauty of her body, but the beauty of her very soul.

And Rowan knew that he couldn’t help but love her. No matter who it betrayed, no matter if it was a tearing of his own soul, of the partner of his heart, of the only person he expected waited for him in the Afterworld.

It was like the movements of the tide, the phases of the moon, the rising of the sun in the east and setting in the west. Uncontrollable, unstoppable. He couldn’t help but love her.

And gods, he wanted to kiss her.

But Rowan just closed his eyes and turned over in bed, forcing himself into an unsettled, disquieted sleep.

Until, in the deepest part of the night, he felt the covers rustle slightly as Aelin silently slipped out of bed and across room, heading right for her black armor.