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writtenonreceipts · 10 months

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Rowaelin Month Day Five: A Bad Date @rowaelinscourt

Link to my Rowaelin Month Masterlist

~3K words—welcome to cliché hell. Enjoy your stay.

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The Words We Share--Part One

Sam Cortland was the absolute definition of asshole and Aelin Galathynius could make her point in three simple facts. He didn’t tip well. He spoke for her. And he consistently forgot when they had dinner plans.

Which was how Aelin found herself sitting at a table alone at one of the nicest restaurants in the city trying not to look at the final roll sitting in the bread basket. She’d already scarfed down the other three, she really shouldn’t eat the third. Especially not now as she could catch the looks her waitress and others were passing her way. She’d at least only gone through one glass of wine and was nursing a water.

Aelin would have owned up to the idea of eating alone, she was a confident woman--she didn’t need anyone’s validation. By now, it was too late. Nearly an hour had passed since she’d been seated and she’d told her waitress she was waiting for someone else. That combined with the fact that she look sexy as hell with a tight green dress, her hair perfectly curled and her make up sharper and neater than any awards show actress.

She’d have to live up to the fact that she’d been stood up.

Hell.

She wished she could say this was the first time Sam had done this. Wished she could say that he would make it up to her later. Wished she could say that it didn’t really bother her.

Aelin glanced at her phone. One missed text but that was from Elide.

>>Elide: anything?

<<Aelin: no. I texted him twice. It’s been forty-five mins. I’ve well and good passed the pathetic mark.

>>Elide: ur not pathetic. Imma report his insta for porn hold on

Aelin rolled her eyes at the message. Elide had been her friend since college when they were first paired together on a project. It had turned into a mess of over caffeination and potential misuse of school property but they’d been inseparable ever since. It was Elide who had helped Aelin get the job she had now with Terrasen Publishing as a content creator. She had a full social media platform where she could share books, reviews and all the likes. She even hosted the company's podcast on a bi-weekly basis.

As far as Aelin was concerned, she was successful. She was capable. She was well on her way to reaching so many of her goals.

Sam, it seemed, couldn’t care less about her.

This was supposed to be a dinner to celebrate her promotion. Dorian, the actual CEO of the company had allowed her to open her own department as Lead Content Creator. She’d be her own manager, get a pay-raise, have more liberties with what she could do, get an office credit card, hell she’d be able to hire her own assistant. She’d told Sam she wanted to celebrate by coming here to her favorite restaurant no matter how expensive it was. She’d worked so hard to get here after all.

And how here she was—alone.

She knew Sam was busy, he was a lawyer after all, but after nearly eight months of dropping everything for him, she’d thought he would give her just one night. One night for her.

Aelin felt tears begin to prick that back of her eyes and had never been more grateful for the dim lighting of this restaurant. Hopefully no one would see the silver lining her eyes, the growing flush of embarrassment to her skin.

It was made all the worse when Aelin noticed a familiar person walking towards her. Someone she wanted to see even less than she wanted to admit that Sam was standing her up.

Hell.

Kaltain Rompier had been hired after Aelin by a few months and ever since decided she was the one who should be in charge of everything in the office. To the point of undermining and condescending everything Aelin did. In the end, Aelin was the one with the promotion and the office but Kaltain still made her life a living hell any chance she got.

“Aelin,” Kaltain crooned as she came to the table. And it wasn’t even to give a brief pass by, no, Kaltain had a look of feral delight gleaming in her black eyes and Aelin could feel the attack coming. “What a surprise to see you here.”

Behind Kaltain was her date, a man Aelin had never seen before and average enough looking. He didn’t seem to be even paying attention to the drama Kaltain was eager to whip out.

“Kaltain.” Aelin offered one of her own beaming smiles in return. Despite the tension radiating through her body, she was determined to be civil. She would not stoop to the other woman’s level. She would not stoop.

Kaltain didn’t bother waiting for the kill. “All alone tonight?”

Her full red lips pouted sympathetically, but Aelin had spent enough time around the woman to know how much delight she was taking in Aelin’s potential misery and embarrassment.

She could lie—her date was in the bathroom. She could own up to eating alone. On a Friday night. At the hottest restaurant in Terrasen. She could use Aedion as a scapegoat and have him come by the office on Monday and make a big show of—

“Sorry I’m late,” a deep, accented voice cut through Aelin’s wall panic as a giant, stupidly attractive man slid between Kaltain and Aelin’s table. “Traffic was impossible tonight.”

Aelin stared up slack jawed at her savior.

Rowan Whitethorn in all his glory stood before her. His silver hair was coiffed back out of his face, chin riddled with stubble, and a black suit that fit his broad frame perfectly. His green eyes gave her a significant look, one brow raised meaningfully.

Aelin pulled herself together and let out a relaxed, charmed laugh. At least she hoped that’s what it sounded liked because this was Rowan Whitethorn. The company’s biggest author. One of the most sought-after writers at conventions who had multiple Hollywood deals piling at his feet.

He was also the biggest ass Aelin had ever worked with.

“Let’s hope you're not this late for your next deadline,” she said, voice light and easy. Or as close to it as possible. But Aelin could see a muscle tick in Rowan’s jaw and watched as a smirk drew across his face. Savior of the night or not, she wanted to punch him.

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Rowan drawled, his thick Scottish accent low and hard. “We know how punctual you are.”

“It’s a good quality to have,” she said. She narrowed her eyes to which Rowan grinned. He was insufferable. An ass. Arrogant. And—

Rowan flicked a lazy look at Kaltain. “Was there something you needed Kaltain?”

The dismissal was clear and left no room for argument. It was such a fascinating sight to see Kaltain at a loss for words that Aelin forgot her disdain for Rowan. Kaltain had always been a busy body around the office, always gossiping and looking for a way to undermine everyone else as long as she came out on top.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Aelin,” Kaltain said, her cold eyes cutting into Aelin. And with that, she turned away with her date.

It was far too satisfying watching them go. Even Aelin had to admit that. Though, she’d be damned if she admitted so to Rowan.

She finally, reluctantly, turned her attention to him.

He leaned in his chair looking utterly at ease with himself and the situation. With his features as stoney and impossible to read as ever it would appear the last five minutes hadn’t even occurred. But Aelin could see the subtle gleam in his eyes. Sharp and calculating like a hawk.

She’d had five years to get to know him, he was Terrasen’s biggest client and she’d been the one to personally promote his first book on her review blog, not to mention act as a beta reader for early drafts of his work.

He was talented. Remarkable even. She’d never seen anyone wield a metaphor or create an image as he could. It was a shame they hated each other.

It had started innocently enough. In her critiques early on, Aelin hadn’t held back. She’d given the early drafts of his manuscript’s hell. She wouldn’t apologize for it. Wouldn’t he want his book to be the best it could? To have enough feedback to work with and accept or decline? Hell, he didn’t even have to take most of her opinions if he didn’t want to, but she was on the team of readers.

Well, he hadn’t taken well to most of her words and Aelin found a giant box of red pens waiting on her desk one morning from him.

Seems like you ran out last week.

Asshole.

She didn’t hold back though. Not at all.

Between overly marked up pages, passive aggressive notes, and blissful ignorance—they’d never known harmony in all their time of working together. The closest they’d gotten was in the last seven months while Rowan was finishing up a new manuscript and had avoided the office all together.

Aelin could hardly admit it to herself, but it had been a strange few months. She’d found herself looking up to catch a glimpse of him in the hallway in all that time. She hated herself just a little for it.

“What do you want, Whitethorn?” she asked, she did her best not to glare, knowing their table was in direct line of sight of where Kaltain was now sitting.

Rowan raised a brow as he leaned forward and took Aelin’s wine glass. He took a long sip, never breaking eye contact.

“That’s the thanks I get?” he asked, accent a low rumble that Aelin could feel straight in her belly. “By my accounts, I saved you from a rather embarrassing conversation.”

Aelin raised her chin. “Kaltain is harmless.”

Rowan only grinned. “Oh, aye?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Aelin insisted.

“She’s never been an easy person and I doubt my time away has changed anything,” Rowan said. He spoke with such sincerity that Aelin could only stare at him.

In her silence, the waitress came back by their table with a new glass of wine for Rowan. The bastard then went ahead and ordered for her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“We’re on a date, are we not?” he asked.

“Not.” She stared at him; his eyes sharp even in the low lights of the restaurant. His tattoos peaked out beneath the collar of his shirt. She’d never seen them in their full glory and now really wished she could see just a little bit more.

“Shame,” Rowan sighed. He glanced idly into the bread basket and took the one remaining roll for himself. “I really was going to pay.”

Aelin sighed and leaned back in her chair. As she looked at him, she tried to understand what he was trying to accomplish with this. He’d chased off Kaltain and saved her from feeling like a fool…but why?

They’d always played a game like this--one of touch and go, of give and take, of hate and hate some more.

She decided to try and approach this from another direction.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked, fingering the stem of her own wine glass.

That grin of his returned, a flash, but impossible to miss. Aelin tried to reel herself in. She couldn’t let him rile her up like this.

“Was out with some friends.” He nodded to the bar behind her.

Aelin turned in her seat, catching sight of two other men, one with curly blond hair and the other with a cut of shaggy black hair. The blond gave her an enthusiastic wave when he saw her looking. Aelin scowled.

“We were celebrating my finishing another book and getting Havilliards seal of approval,” Rowan explained, drawing Aelin’s attention back. “And I saw you sitting by yourself when Kaltain showed up. I know the two of you don’t really get along.”

And how long did you wait before stepping in? She wanted to ask. But she knew she wouldn’t want the answer. He’d probably been there since the beginning watching as she slowly spun into madness.

She glanced at her phone but didn’t touch it. It hadn’t lit up or vibrated or given any indication that anyone was worried about her. She tried to not let it sting. A full hour at this point. Maybe she should break it off with Sam. Officially this time.

“I figured you’d rip my head off if I came over sooner,” Rowan continued, his voice softening just a touch. “Figured it was none of my business.”

Aelin didn’t need his pity, didn’t want it either. “Yeah, well it’s not.”

He didn’t get the chance to respond as the waitress returned with their food. A steak for Rowan, salmon for Aelin. Exactly what she would have wanted for herself, even with the side of risotto.

Her stomach growled just loud enough that Rowan definitely heard. She grabbed her fork and started eating. Angrily.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Aelin pointed her fork at him.

“New book have a title?” she asked.

“Why would you care?”

“So I can figure out all the puns to call it on my podcast,” she said.

Rowan smirked. “I’m on your podcast now?”

“You? No. Your book? Sure.” She took another bite of salmon and sighed. “It’s more fun that way.”

“Right,” he said. “‘Course.”

She watched him as he cut his steak, medium rare, and dredged it in a bit of peppercorn sauce. He wasn’t at all uncomfortable with the act they found themselves in. Not at all concerned over the fact that his friends were leaving (Aelin couldn’t help but check). He was focused on her.

She didn’t know how she felt about that.

“So, the book?”

He paused before shrugging just barely. “Nothing special. Ancient weaponry and the likes. You’ll hate it.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. Rowan had written several historical nonfiction novels surrounded with ancient lore, weaponry, and conspiracies. It all seemed interesting when you thought about it--but Aelin loved the fantasy. She loved the whimsy. The strange. And while Rowan's books were well written and captivating, they never quite captured her.

“Are you finally going to write a book about kilts? You said you would.” She couldn’t help but smile at that. His first book had been a look into early Scottish history, connecting the Old Language and how it shaped fairy tales and other shared stories. She told him it needed more kilts; he’d told her it wasn’t that kind of book.

Ever since, the same question had been asked.

“Not this time,” Rowan said, returning the smile.

“Shame,” Aelin said, “I would have given you an excellent review.”

The rest of dinner progressed in somewhat amicable silence. They only exchanged a few words about what the next few weeks would look like for Rowan’s new manuscript. And Aelin of course ordered a slice of chocolate cheesecake to go.

When the waitress returned with the bill, Rowan swept up the little black book and deposited his credit card all before Aelin could ask for a split bill.

She raised a brow in silent questioning.

“I told ye I’d pay,” he said, accent slipping just a bit deeper than he usually allowed it. Something flashed in his eyes that kept Aelin from arguing further.

So she allowed him to pay for the meal, which couldn’t have been cheap, and help her stand and put on her jacket.

It wasn’t until they were outside in the warm summer night that Aelin stepped away from him, eyes narrowed. She fully expected him to turn back to the grumpy old writer she’d always seen him as, but as she took him in she noted that smoldering look remained in his eyes.

The sun was close to setting, casting them both in the soft golden light of dusk. Despite how it was nearing nine, it was still warm. Though, Aelin felt more than just the lingering effects of the summer heat rolling through her.

She had no idea what to make of the last hour with Rowan. No idea what to make of the look that he still held her with.

“You’re going to give me hell tomorrow, aren’t you?” he asked.

Aelin grinned, she couldn’t help it. “Oh, I guarantee it.”

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t missed this subtle game of theirs. The verbal sparring had been the only thing getting her through the work day on most occasions. He was aggravating, certainly, but the only one who hadn’t dismissed her, who would take her shit and return it just the same.

Rowan flagged down a cab for her and opened the door for her, resting a hand on the small of her back. The action was so unlike anything she’d experienced before. All the other men she’d dated, or known casually, would have simply left her on the side of the road to flag her own cab or just toss her in the cab and be done with it.

Aelin remembered her dad treating her mom well and how he would always open her doors, make sure she was taken care of, buy flowers and chocolates…but then Rhoe had died. It had been ten years since the accident, but Aelin would never forget the kind of man he’d been.

“Thank-you,” she said. She even managed to muster up a sincere smile, even knowing that as soon as the cab pulled away, she’d be lamenting over the embarrassment at being stood up and found out by Rowan Whitethorn.

His expression was unreadable even as he made sure she was tucked into the back of the cab. Then he leaned in, close enough that she could see the cool green of his eyes.

“Whoever stood you up is an idiot, Galathynius.” He pulled back before she could respond and shut the door firmly before patting the top of the cab.

The cabbie shot off into the street before Aelin could even register Rowan’s words.

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Tag are not working 😕 please reblog! It would mean so much!

#rowaelin #rowaelin month #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #throne of glass #tog #fanfiction

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acourtofquestions · 22 days

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Okay okay, so... who, out of everyone you know about rn is your favorite? (Fleetfoot is included, Fleetwood is adorable)

Thank you for such a great question!

I love a lot of things about so many characters, & am really enjoying getting to know them in my first read of the Throne of Glass series (so it changes a lot)… Honestly, Fleetfoot might be my most consistent😂favorite😊, I don’t think any character can ever be better🥹???

— Especially as in a world of such prejudice Fleetfoot loves every person for who they are (including Archer; who she does not love; because who he is sucks🤣). — She doesn't care that Dorian has magic she stays with him until Celaena can come back, she follows Celaena into the woods on the 10 year marker of "Aelin's dark day" just to sit with her. — She also defends Celaena from the monster even while injured herself she wouldn't let them hurt her person.

She was the outcast of the litter, the "underdog" and became the bravest hulking wolf of them all.

Fleetfoot serves as the “save the cat” for both Celaena in showing her disgust at the idea of calling a dog a burden to be rid of because of a shy temper and at not liking humans after they stole it from its mother (which also speaks a lot to her, as if Fleetfoot is her Abraxos style “spirit animal”) while showing even the Assassin has moral lines. While also giving Dorian the chance to “save the cat” or in this case the dog. She even heavily serves as a plot telling device such as recognizing Nehemia from beyond the veil. More than that she becomes a beloved by all character… as you can see by this very dramatic explanation. Also I’m just a sucker for dogs & golden retrievers😂

Otherwise (sry this is gonna ramble😂): if ya want more

+ I’d love to hear yours if you want to share: so, who are your favs/fav?😃

I really want to learn more about Aedion because his relationship to Celaena thus far in HoF heavily reminds me of my siblings (and normally makes me cry because of it). I want Celaena to come to know that kind of love, and I already love Aedion for it.

Dorian really astounds me in his character — I mean that word literally & in phrase — he is a good man, he consistently shows it, and I give him props for being such a healthy emotional male character in a YA series.

Of course I have to mention our main gal Celaena / Aelin; there’s a lot to love. First I’d say the tropes she breaks (reminding me of a Nesta/Feyre mix of leading female perspective book traits) which I really appreciate. — She is tough, she is a warrior, she is not a damsel; she also loves makeup, and fancy dresses, and wishes to dance; she can be entranced by the romantic fantasy of just being normal. She is not equated to her love interests alone but she does love many and remains quite a loveable character within her resilience; as most of them come to say & bring to further light as well. She is fiery in all she does, there is something beautifully magically brave & empowering in that.

Sam Cortland will always get a shoutout because I will always love him.

Chaol used to be on this list and still isn’t off it but it’s complicated; I can say though I wish he didn’t take pieces of what he dreams people to be and try to make them fit that mold, he does apologize from it come to recognize it learn and try to do better. I genuinely believe he loves Dorian and Celaena (which doesn’t fix everything but does mean something); that he is a good man who just wants to do the right thing; he’s still a young kid. And so, he hasn’t lost me yet.

Rowan has entered where he will stay in the list of favs forever & ever “to whatever end”.

Emrys right now (& probably always) has my heart; I love a good loving character who makes everyone soup and tells stories. Give me a Hagrid, Chiron, kinda character any day. One that makes them feel at home; strangers, friends, foes, legends alike. Calls them out when they’re an idiot, and welcomes them with open arms after every exhausting day… He’s just good and kind.

And after a recent HoF chapter (some might say THE HoF chapter) Lady Marion deserves a mention & round of applause; mad respect, absolute adoration; the true hero; a mothers love. The way it made me cry at the love of a mother, the way I love my littles, etc.

P.S. for ACOTAR it’s probably Feyre, Nesta, Gwyn, Rhys, Azriel… also the house if it counts? lol 😂

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draconikia · 4 months

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she is majestic to watch. her movements are fluid. her aim deadly. he could, and has, spent hours watching her train. combating her. and even at night - he dreams of her. there’s something about her, maybe her open dislike of him, that lures him in. gods he wished she’d be less reckless, her self assurance is admirable but - a panicked part of him that cannot admit to the depths he cares for her - longs for her to just be careful.

arobynn watches from the opposite balcony, a nod at him - and then to her. of course. a slave always obeys his master. while they are afforded much in the way of seeming freedom, sam knows the truth. he is owned. just as his mother had been, just as lysandra is - he and celaena are owned for their bodies. not for pleasure but for violence. and he isn’t sure which is worse.

with light steps he’s swinging over the balcony and landing softly in the sand covered sparring ground. he dodges the flung dagger, a cocksure smile on his lips. she’s fast, but he’s reactive. he knows her every move, and that - that he will use to his advantage.

‘ sloppily done sardothien. i wasn’t even quiet and that was the best you could do? ‘

it’s easiest to incite her flash point temper, to watch fire burn in eyes that so easily transfix him. she could set the world aflame and he thinks he’d stand there as it consumed him and all he’d ever know, and all he’d do was stare into her eyes so his last memories would that turquoise and gold. they ought to be tranquil, those colours, but instead he is reminded of the heart of a bonfire. the blue and the white flame the hottest where you will burn before you even feel the pain.

that’s what loving celaena sardothien is like. burning so hot and so fast, you don’t even notice the pain.

sam cortland for celaena sardothien // @ircnwrought

#sam cortland // interaction #ircnwrought #i hope this is ok!!! and also - i’m sorry this took so long 😭#if you need any changes lmk!

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whimsicallyreading · 3 years

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Dark Roast, No Sugar

“Last night I woke the hell up. I realized I need you here, as desperate as that sounds, yeah.” - Jon Bellion

Masterlist

Chapter Nine-

Aelin showed up to the police department in a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt. She didn't even bother putting on the new-ish sneakers she owned, opting for the ones with holes because they didn't squeeze her feet. It wasn't the first impression she wanted to give, but you deserve a little forgiveness when making a whole-ass human.

Leaning over the dash of the car, she presses a friendly kiss to the side of Chaol's face. "Thanks for the ride, boys."

His cheeks redden, and Dorian leans as much of his body as he can into the front of the car, "No sugar for me?"

Aelin laughs and kisses his cheek good-naturedly. "Feel less left out now?"

"Much better," the corners of his happy smile dim, his blue eyes dart to the doors of the precinct. "Are you sure you don't want me to call you a lawyer, Aelin?"

Chaol nods his agreement beside him, his hands clenching the steering wheel despite the car being in park. "Do you want me to go inside with you?"

Aelin feels a bubble of warmth blossoming in her chest. Their worried faces and eagerness to help her- it was almost enough to warm an assassin's heart. "Don't worry. They just need me to clarify a few things in my statement. Nothing serious. Paperwork issues."

Dorian and Chaol had shown up right as she was walking out of the front door of The Stag. When they realized she was leaving and offered her a ride... Aelin couldn't say no. Not with how her feet were aching.

It took some more reassuring, but they finally agreed to let her leave their caring grasps.

Fenrys met her at the door with a smile, "Hey, Baby Mama. Looking beautiful."

Aelin is surprised to find she's genuinely happy to see him. She can't help the toothy grin he brings out in her. "I'm well. How are you this morning, Fen?"

Fenrys lights up at the nickname. "I bought us some donuts. We have a hard day of work ahead of us, and I figured we would deserve a treat in advance."

Donuts sounded phenomenal and vastly improved her outlook of the day.

He steers her through the PD, and several heads turn to stare as she passes. Aelin didn't particularly care. Whatever they thought they knew about her, they probably didn't.

When they finally reach Rowan's office, they find him slumped over a laptop at a desk piled high with neatly stacked papers. The room is minimalistic. Only necessary office items were visible—no personal effects, knickknacks, or pictures of any kind adorning the space.

Rowan himself is also in his usual state of neatness, minus the dirt she could see staining the underside of his nails. He must have been gardening this morning.

Aelin doesn't bother with greetings. She grabs a chair opposite him and sits down. The last few days, she'd been feeling more drained and quick to tire. At first, she attributed it to the baby getting larger and demanding more of her body's resources, but now Aelin started to think that she caught a bug galavanting through the night.

Fenrys set a blueberry donut and a cup of hot tea in front of her. Bless him. Aelin mumbles her thanks before stuffing her mouth.

Rowan shuts his laptop with a snap and replaces it with a yellow notepad. "Alright, Aelin. I need a name. Who do you think is doing this?"

"When is Aedion getting released?" She says around a mouthful of glazed blueberry.

Fenrys slumps into an office chair at a tinier desk in the corner of the room. "This afternoon."

"If all goes well at this meeting," Rowan tacks on the thinly veiled warning. "I need a name."

Aelin leans back in her seat and takes a deep breath. There was a strange heaviness in giving his name. As if speaking it would materialize him into existence in front of her. Her goal when she moved to Ornyth was to forget about him and push her old master as far from her mind as she physically could, but she supposed it was naive to think he wouldn't come looking for her.

This wasn't just for her, Aelin reminds herself. Aedion would benefit from this conversation.

"His name is Arobynn Hammel. He's thirty-five, red hair, grey eyes, and an utter asshole." Aelin lays the name of her childhood tormentor out on the table. A bad taste sours her mouth.

Rowan tosses the notepad to Fenrys, who relays what she said to the paper. He looks at her over his desk with an unreadable expression. "What is your relation to Mr. Hammel?"

"Why?" Aelin chuckles as if the stress is trying to escape her with each half-hearted chuckle. "Do you want to know if he's my baby daddy?"

"Yes," Rowan and Fenrys say simultaneously.

Aelin's smile falls, and she scowls at both of them. They didn't know better, but she still felt insulted.

"He isn't, but I suppose he probably would have liked to be. Make sure to underline that," she points at Fenry's pad of paper. "Arobynn raised me. I don't think he was legally a foster parent, but he is who I was given to in the shuffle after the occupation."

Rowan dips his chin. Green eyes focus on her intensely, as if he's trying to absorb and commit her every word to memory. "How old were you when they put you in his care?"

"Eight," Aelin breathes out, a sharp tingling of grief comes with that admission. "I lived with him from the time I was eight until I turned nineteen."

"Why do you suspect him of producing and distributing Synth?" Rowan asks the nail-in-the-coffin question, and Aelin has to bite back old instincts to lie and conceal this information. It makes her feel vulnerable to expose Arobynn.

Vulnerability isn't an emotion she handles well. After all, when you bare your neck to someone, it becomes within their power to cut their throat.

"I've seen where he makes it, and I oversaw some of his high-risk contracts and dealings with the distribution," Fenrys chokes beside her, but he smothers it with a cough. Even Rowan looks a little taken back, eyes narrowing.

"At what age did you start assisting with his-" he struggles to find the words. "-His business practices."

Aelin blinks, "Eight."

This time, neither of them covers their reactions. They both freeze in their seats, an air of disbelief hanging over them. Aelin feels a chill and tugs at the hem of her shirt, wishing the sleeves were longer.

"What?" Rowan is the first to break the tension.

"I was displaced in the occupation," Aelin begins the watered-down version of her sob story. "I was carted into Adarlan and placed in the care of Arobynn Hammel. Within a couple of months, he was already using me as a mule to get orders across Rifthold. He trained me in various skills to carry out larger jobs, along with a few other children."

"There were others?" Rowan looks saddened by that tidbit.

Mentally Aelin wants to laugh.

Of course, he would be upset at the prospect of other good children suffering from such a fate.`Ones who had the potential he thought she lacked.

If only he knew what bastards they all grew up to be, and she by far was not the worst of them.

Fenrys' eyes were gleaming with more pity than Aelin was comfortable with because, unlike Rowan, she knew it was directed towards her. Gratefully he didn't dig too deeply. Instead, Fenrys picked up the next question. "Can you name the others?"

Aelin bites her lip, leg fidgeting under the table. "Tern Fletcher, Archer Flynn, Adam Mulligan, Lysandra Ennar-" she swallows past the lump in her throat. "Samuel Cortland and myself."

"Lysandra was involved?" Rowan leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. He hasn't looked away, barely blinked, since the questioning began. Aelin feels naked as his eyes seemed to be raking in her every movement.

"Not-" she tries to think of how to phrase it in a way that respects her friend's privacy. "She wasn't involved in the same capacity I was."

"Are the others you know still working with Hammel?" Rowan asks, and Aelin gladly lets them move the conversation away from Lys. She wasn't comfortable digging into her friend's wounds when she wasn't around.

"I suspect Mulligan, Flynn, and Fletcher. They were extremely loyal, and as of the last time I saw them, very active in the business." Aelin fondly remembers the beat down she laid on Archer before their parting words. He sold them out, and she hopes for his sake that they never run into each other again.

Fenrys looks up, "What about Samuel?"

"What?" Aelin flinches, the question taking her back.

"Samuel Cortland," Rowan reiterates. "You named him as one of the employees in Hammel's custody but implied he's no longer active in the business. Where is he then?" He leans forward, and Aelin wishes she could shrink back. "Would he be willing to speak with us?"

"Children." Her voice comes out as gruffer than she intends. "We were kids. Not employees. It wasn't a mutual agreement. None of us could consent to what became of us."

Aelin is surprised by the emotion that makes itself known. She swallows back the tears that want to fall and stuffs her trembling hands under her thighs. The implication any of them had a choice in serving Arobynn was disturbing and utterly wrong.

The taste of skin between her teeth, blood crusting under her nails, and being surrounded in pitch-black darkness consume her. Aelin suddenly feels more ill than she had this morning.

"Of course, Aelin." Fenrys placates. "That's understood. We just need to know where Samuel is. He could be very useful to the investigation."

"Dead," Aelin throws the word out like a dying fish on the table. "He died."

It hurt to say that. Tears burned in the corners of her eyes. Sam dying was worse than talking about Arobynn. A million times worse.

Aelin tries to swallow the lead rock in her throat. Arobynn didn't deserve to be known. His legacy was of blood, abuse, and control. It belonged in the sewer alongside his corpse.

Sam, on the other hand, deserved to be known. He abandoned by the system, forgotten by his family, and still chose kindness above all else. Sam's story deserved to be told, and it killed Aelin that it hurt her so much to share it.

"How did he die?" Fenrys prods delicately.

"What?" Aelin asks dumbly, heart accelerating in her chest.

"How did Samuel die? Any details you can give are beneficial. and you agreed to cooperate." Rowan reminds her sternly.

Mala save her, she couldn't go into detail about how she found him. She couldn't. Aelin feels blood rushing up to her head, and the room seems to sway.

"Sam. He liked to be called Sam-" Is all Aelin manages to choke out. "Excuse me."

Pushing herself from the desk, she shakily bolts for the office door. Their complaints are silenced as the glass shuts behind her. Outside, Aelin can feel the trembling beginning in her hands and spreading up her arms.

Sweat beads on her forehead in the oppressive heat of the building, but when she rubs her face, it feels damp and cold to the touch.

Aelin frantically strides down the hall, eyes darting around madly for a bathroom door. Nausea was creeping up her throat, and she really didn't want to throw up in someone's trashcan. She knew she was moving quickly, that someone might see her and become alarmed, but anxiety made everything feel like it was moving in slow motion.

A dainty hand grips her elbow and tugs in gently. "Follow me, dear. I can help you."

Aelin's head is swimming, and she allows the calming voice to steer her back in the other direction. When the person pushes open the bathroom door and Aelin sees the navy blue stalls, she rips her arm away and falls to her knees before the porcelain bowl.

Long, slender fingers pull her hair back from her face and rub her shoulders as Aelin loses her breakfast. "You are okay," the voice consoles—a hand massages up her spine and soothes the aches there.

Aelin's whole body is shuddering now. Her stomach rolls over itself, and the muscles of her diaphragm are quaking with exertion. She doubts she could get to her feet if she tried. A strand of drool hangs from her lips, and Aelin would be humiliated if her head wasn't still reeling.

Gouged eyes. Bent fingers. Blood on her lips.

A wad of paper towels appears and dabs at her cheeks, which Aelin hadn't even realized were wet with tears. She failed to notice that her body was shuddering under the intensity of the sobs coming from her. The woman continues to pat her cheeks and nose. Then to her mortification, it swipes at the spit hanging from her mouth.

Mala end me now, she mentally pleads.

Aelin looks up to find a woman with raven hair and onyx eyes looking at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, dear. I don't mean to overstep. I've been where you are before. Please don't be embarrassed."

Opening her mouth, Aelin makes to apologize, but another crackling sob breaks from her chest instead.

She's just tired. Tired of being sad. Tired of feeling sick. Tired of being unable to even say his name without breaking down.

Arms wrap around Aelin's shoulders and tug her into an embrace. She allows her face to burrow into the woman's blazer as the grief racks through her body.

"Oh, sweety. It's going to be alright. I promise whatever is going on right now will work out." Fingers rake through Aelin's hair soothingly. It turns her to jello in the woman's arms. Her presence was just so motherly in a way that Aelin sorely misses.

She holds Aelin tight until she's calm enough to hold a plastic cup of water without dropping it. The woman helps her stand and wipes the mascara smudges off her cheeks with a damp towel. "There you go," she tosses the towel in the trash when she deems Aelin presentable. "Brand new, again."

"Thank you," Aelin breathes out at last. "I don't even know what to say."

"Say nothing," the woman waves her hand. "I've been pregnant before. Hormones. Nausea. It isn't an easy ride, dear. Besides, no one comes to a police station for a good reason." The woman pulls a stick of gum from a purse sitting on the sink and offers it to her. Aelin accepts it gratefully.

"Has anyone told you that stress isn't good for you?" Her kind eyes bore into Aelin worriedly. "You look very pale."

"I've been told. Many times." Aelin rubs her forehead, an ache already forming there. "I just don't have much of a choice."

"What's your name? I'm Maeve." She smiles and extends a hand for Aelin to shake.

Aelin takes the hand, happy that they aren't trembling so badly. "Aelin."

"Do you have any name ideas for the baby?" Maeve's eyes glance down towards the slight swell of her belly a little wistfully.

Names? Aelin periodically forgot that the human growing inside of her would pop into the world and require such a thing. It was a far-off event where she had plenty of time to accommodate for things in her head. In reality, she was halfway through her fourth month.

Time was ticking.

"No. I don't have any ideas yet." Aelin admits.

Maeve pats Aelin's shoulder kindly. "That's just fine. Ignore my curiosity. You have plenty of time if-" she emphasizes, "you take better care of yourself."

There is a knock on the door. "Aelin, are you alright?"

Rowan.

"Yes. I'll be back in a minute," Aelin says through the door.

She waits until his footsteps echo back down the hallway before she makes towards the exit. Eager to leave the bathroom and the memories of her awkward breakdown with it. "Thanks again. Really. I appreciate it."

Aelin truly meant it despite the utter humiliation she felt.

"Let me walk you back to Rowan's office?" Maeve asked. "It's easy to get turned around in this building."

They walked in a comfortable silence back to the office. Maeve's demeanor is so tranquil it surprises Aelin when the demure woman pushes the door open without knocking. "I have a delivery for you boys."

"Chief?" Rowan stands up, confused.

What? Aelin blinks and turns back to the woman, noting the black and whites and the metal badge on the breast of her blazer. The same blazer Aelin had just cried on.

Blood rushed to her face, and her brain curdles in her skull. Of course, it was the law of Orynth whose arms she just broke down in. Adarlan's Assassin reduced to a ball of hormones clinging to the chief detective of Terrasen like a baby clinging to its mother.

"Has she caused trouble?" Rowan's eyes glint with steel.

If you've done anything to degrade me to my boss, the deal is off.

"Not at all. We ran into each other in the bathroom and had a lovely chat," Maeve brushes an invisible piece of dust from Aelin's shoulder. "I will let the three of you get back to business. You are in excellent company."

Aelin's lip quirks. Just the opposite. She loves me. Congratulations, you are already reaping the benefits of my presence.

"Oh, and Fenrys?" Aelin looks at Fenrys, who is actively ignoring them. "The reports you promised are late. Have them to my desk by the end of the day, please."

"Will do, Chief." Fenrys' reply is dry and lacks his usual pep.

Aelin notes the worried glance Rowan throws him, but he swiftly covers it with an expressionless mask. "I will make sure he gets it done."

What was that? Aelin tries to pry an answer from Rowan, but he avoids her look.

When Maeve leaves, the tension eases from the men's shoulders.

"You are trouble," Rowan tosses at her without venom.

Aelin picks up the cup of tea she left at his desk, glad it's still warm. "Yes, but only the best kind."

"We haven't laid out a single plan for weaseling out Arobynn," Fenrys makes an irritated face at them. "If either of you could focus for ten minutes, we can do the rest of the questioning later, but we need to start throwing out ideas."

"Did Rowan piss in your tea in the last ten minutes I was gone?" Aelin shoots back, not appreciating his sudden attitude.

"Thirty," Rowan says. "You were gone for thirty minutes. That's why I came looking for you. Also, ruining beverages is your thing, not mine."

Damn, had she been gone that long? A glance at the clock confirms he was correct.

When she turns back to Rowan, there is almost something like worry in his eyes? That couldn't be right, Aelin rubs that aching side of her head again. She needed to stop reading so deeply into things.

"We can continue with questioning later," Rowan announces. "Fenrys is correct in saying we need to start making plans. You've given us enough to work with for now."

They sat back in their chairs, pulled out more notepads, red pens, and sticky notes. Together, Aelin helped them form a list of potential places Arobynn would be laying low. Hotels, rental homes, and vacant manors. He had a taste for luxury Aelin knew he wouldn't sacrifice for anonymity.

Test results were still running on the Synth. Technicians had let them know it showed highly abnormal properties compared to average street drugs, and they promised to send them an extensive report when they were through.

Rowan had hushed any potential news stories about The Stag shooting. He didn't want anyone who may know Celaena to catch wind and start snooping around. Aelin was his best lead, which afforded her a certain level of discretion he acknowledged.

They didn't know about the Bane patrolling her block at night, keeping their eyes on the streets for unusual activity.

The clock ticked, and the light beaming through the winders grew warmer as the afternoon trickled away. It was nearly five o'clock when Rowan declared then done for the day, and Aelin was utterly exhausted.

"Come on," Fenrys offered her a hand to help her stand. "I can drive you by the prison. Aedion should be getting checked out as we speak."

"Thank you," Aelin accepts the help. Her feet ached, and she felt entirely drained. It was good Fenrys was offering a ride, or she'd have to call Dorian to come and get her.

Together, the three of them made their way to the parking lot. Conversation between them was sparse but not unpleasant. They'd fallen into a rhythm at some point while working together. It helped break up some of the awkwardness between her and Rowan.

Aelin hustled a little bit when she spotted Fenry's luxury car. She wanted to claim the front seat before Rowan did. Her gut couldn't handle the stress of riding the back.

Her fingers barely grazed the polished handle when Fenrys started yelling.

Arms wrapped around her waist, and Aelin's face throbbed as it found itself slammed into the asphalt. A loud explosion rattled her ears, and chunks of debris went flying through the air. A thick foggy smoke started filling the air, and she immediately started choking on it.

A dense weight lifts off her back, and hands grab her shoulders, rolling her body to face the clouded sky instead of the ground. Rowan is in her personal space immediately. He's speaking to her, but no sound is penetrating the ringing in her ears.

His hands are running along her arms, the side of her face, checking for injury. Aelin tries to ask him if he's alright, but he doesn't seem able to hear her either.

Suddenly, Fenrys is there, and he's grabbing them both by the arms. They are moving away at a sprint. Fenrys is yelling, but the smoke is stinging her eyes, and even seeing is becoming hard.

There is another explosion, and Aelin can feel the tremors beneath the soles of her shoes as the three of them hit the ground once more.

People are pouring out of the precinct. Aelin spies Cheif Maeve at the front of them, ordering people out of the building. Red and blue lights reflect off the smoke, and she knows that ambulances must be on their way.

Rowan is lying beside her. She hadn't noticed the rips in the back of his suit jacket at first, but there were long gouges in the material, and smoke wafted off a couple of scorch marks. The fact he'd thrown himself over her body and shielded her from the explosion was only starting to register when something warm squeezed her hand.

Are you okay? Green eyes were scouring her body for wounds.

I'm fine, Aelin assures him. She's more concerned about the spots on the back of his suit growing wet as he bled.

"Someone blew up my car," Fenrys is gaping at the spot where his vintage ride used to be. All that remained was a roughed-up frame that was lit ablaze like a campfire.

"Gods," Aelin breathed out, the ringing in her ears dying down. "I almost died."

Rowan hadn't let go of her hand and made no move to do so as his eyes fixed on the burning car. "That was meant for us."

He didn't have to elaborate for Aelin to understand. Whoever had placed the bomb hadn't been targeting her, but Rowan and Fenrys. They arrived and left work together. The bomb wasn't there when they got to the precinct this morning, so someone must have placed it while they were inside.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" Fenrys runs a dirty hand through his hair.

Sirens wailed as paramedics filed into the parking lot. Other detectives and officers were starting to approach them. Firefighters approached the car with extinguishers and began to tame the burning fire.

Aelin didn't have an answer. Just the sinking feeling that the game they'd entered into had more players than she'd thought.

Here is part one of the mass updates! Thank you SO much for reading. I’ve gotten so much feedback and love on this fic it’s been so wonderful 💚

I do have an ✨IMPORTANT QUESTION✨

Would you all prefer I have tag lists specific to certain fics or an overall tag list for ships? So one tag list for all of my rowaelin fics, one for all my quinlar fics, or would you like me to keep it as I have been? Please let me know! ✨

Tag list- Let me know if you would like to be added or removed. :D ( names in bold won’t tag)

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#coffeeshopau #rowaelin #throne of glass #angst #aelin #fanfic #rowan whitethorn

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rowanwhitethornisbae · 4 years

Text

Faking It Chapter 1

Rowaelin Fake Dating High School Au

A/N: This is going to be told through Aelin and Rowan’s POV’s but will also feature other characters.

masterlist

Aelin Galathynius had never been this pissed off in her entire life.

“I need to focus on myself.”

“You can be a lot to handle sometimes.”

If Aelin hadn't been so shellshocked she most definitely would've slapped that grimace off his ruggedly handsome face. Chaol Westfall and her had been dating for as long as Aelin could remember. Grade six graduation, he was there. Grade eight dance marathon, him again. First day of high school, Chaol. Junior prom night, guess fucking who.

Now, she was barely a week into senior year and everything was already going to shit. It’s not that she was completely torn up about the breakup - she wasn't - it was more about her pride. Aelin’s bitchy side could not believe that she hadn't been the one to dump him first. They’d barely spoken to each other all summer long. Aelin had been lifeguarding at a pool on the south side of town and Chaol had been a camp counsellor on the north. Still, their friend groups crossed over in every way possible. Aelin was the head cheerleader, leader of about every committee you could think of, and as Aedion liked to call her, “Queen of Terrasen High”. Chaol was, you guessed it, the football team captain and starting quarter back. They were the textbook couple in every way possible. Still, despite the cheerleaders and football players hanging out nearly every night, Chaol and Aelin had barely talked. It had been that way since their huge fight on the last day of junior year. They’d claimed to forgive each other, but never really had. They’d both said some really fucked up shit. Still, Aelin couldn't bring herself to be completely regretful of what she’d said to him.

“This is a good thing A.” Her best friend Lysandra was saying beside her. “You’re way hotter than him anyway.”

Snapping back to attention, Aelin smiled. “I am aren't I.” She laughed.

“Hell yes.” Lysandra assured her. “He was never in your league.”

Aelin laughed and threw her arm over her best friends shoulders. School was out for the day and they were heading out to meet Aedion for a drive home. Ignoring the faint anger in her gut, Aelin had to admit she felt more free. She hadn't been single since the sixth grade - save the small break her and Chaol had taken in 10th year. Aelin didn't like to ponder too much on that time in her life.

A blast of warm air hit her as they pushed open the heavy doors to the school. Aedion’s face broke into a wide grin as he spotted them. As soon as her and Lysandra reached him he pulled her into a bear hug. “Welcome to the world of miserable and lonely single people. You’re gonna love it.” He messed with her hair and she groaned for him to put her down.

“How the hell do you know already?” She asked.

“Oh my sweet naive cousin. Everyone knows.” He smiled sympathetically.

“Everyone?” Aelin said, a hint of desperation in her tone.

“Everyone.” Aedion echoed. “It’s the biggest news to hit the school since, well, you and Chaol took break.”

Aelin swore under her breath. “Can’t people focus on their own lives for once.”

Lysandra laughed softly. “We need to find you a rebound.” She said, bouncing on her toes. “I finally get the chance to be my best friends wingman.”

“I don't want a rebound.” Aelin said frowning.

“Would you rather Chaol find one first. He broke up with you, you’re already losing.”

Damn Lysandra. She knew that Aelin was probably the most competitive person alive and could literally never shy away from a fight.

“Fine. Who?” She swung open the door to Aedion’s car and climbed in the back.

Lysandra clapped her hands together and joined her in the back. “How about Fenrys Moonbeam?”

Aelin shook her head back and forth. “No way.”

“Why?” Aedion asked. “He’s unfairly attractive.”

“You date him then.” Aelin shot back.

“Maybe I will.” He smiled wickedly at her in the rearview mirror and pulled out of the parking lot.

“How about Sam Cortland.” Lys suggested.

For a moment Aelin considered it. Despite being a year younger than her, Sam was extremely cute. His messy brown hair and constant smile didn't hurt matters.

“Too nice.” Aelin insisted. “I’ll feel too bad about using him.”

Lysandra had just begun naming someone else when their car slammed into something else. Aelin’s body lurched forward uncontrollably, head slamming into the seat in front of her.

“Fuck!” Aedion swore. “Fucking hell!”

Aelin didn't even have time to revel in the fact that Aedion had actually cursed. Instead, she surveyed her body to make sure she was alright. Lysandra appeared to be doing the same and they both exchanged weak smiles of comfort. All three of them slowly got out of the car to see who exactly they had run into.

Aelin was stilling rubbing at her temples when a voice sent a chill down her spine.

“Are you fucking kidding me Ashryver?” He said.

Heart racing, Aelin lifted her head slowly and met the anger filled green eyes of Rowan Whitethorn. He looked absolutely flawless in his leather jacket and white tee. His too tight jeans were ripped around the knees and cuffed just above his black combat boots. Rowan’s silver hair was messy and unkept and his tattoo was just as beautiful as ever. The vibrant green of his eyes never failed to take her off guard. Eyes that were now staring directly at her.

He blinked twice, the only reaction he would show, and went back to yelling at her cousin.

“I’m sorry man.” Aedion was saying in the background. “I didn't see you.”

“It’s not his fault.” Lysandra jumped in. “We were all distracted.”

“Let me guess.” He snarled back, tone as pissed off as ever. “Discussing the recent breakup.” Rowan was looking at Aelin now, waiting for a response.

“Something like that.” She mumbled, not looking directly at him.

“Didn't hear that princess.” He said loudly.

“Fuck off Rowan.” Aedion yelled, subtly stepping between them. “It was accident, send me the bill for your bumper. We’re going now.”

“Whatever.” Rowan didn’t look at her once. He only got back in his dented black car, flipped Aedion off, and hit the gas.

“Come on A.” Lysandra said softly, wrapping an arm around Aelin’s trembling form. She pulled her gently back toward their car. Aelin could feel Aedion’s gaze on her, yet for some reason she couldn't bring herself to care.

After a few more minutes of silent and awkward driving, Aelin couldn't bear it anymore.

“I’m fine guys.” She said with as much confidence as she could muster. “Please stop looking at me like I'm a time bomb.”

Lysandra laughed and smiled. “Whatever you say A.” Aelin had never been this grateful for her best friend.

“How about Rowan.” Lysandra continued. Every thought left Aelin’s head and she jolted upwards in her seat.

“Are you insane? Are you literally fucking mental. I would get burned alive then have a conversation with him.” Aelin was practically yelling now.

Lysandra only shrugged. “What’s the one thing that hurts more than sleeping with the best friend?” She asked Aedion.

“Sleeping with the guy you told him not to worry about.” Her cousin recited, smirking in the rearview mirror.

“Absolutely not. No way in hell.” She paused. “Besides, he wouldn't even give me the time of day.”

Lys squealed. “So you’re considering it.”

“No.” Aelin murmured, ignoring her friend’s pointed glares.

“Alright.” Lysandra finally relented. “Just think on it.”

“Fine.” Aelin nodded, and went back to staring at nothing through the car window.

~~~~~~~~

“Lorcan!” Rowan yelled out. “Where are you guys?”

“Out back.” Came the booming yell of Lorcan Salvaterre.

Sighing, Rowan put his coat back on and walked through the house to the back door. Only, Fenrys greeted him, patting him on the back and moving over on the couch. “How was your day?” His friend asked.

“Horrible.” Rowan admitted.

Fenrys stuck out his bottom lip. “How come?”

“I talked to Aelin Galathynius.”

The rest of the group instantly stopped whatever conversations they’d been having and whirled towards him. Fenrys’ eyes were blown wide open as he struggled to find the words.

“Explain.” Lorcan said at last, falling back in his chair. Vaughn and Gavriel were staring at him cautiously, as if he might have another breakdown. “Her cousin hit my car.” He grumbled.

“The first time you speak to Aelin in nearly two years is because you crashed into her car” Vaughn reiterates.

Rowan only nods. Fenrys, bless him, somehow restrains from laughing.

“So do tell.” Gavriel gestures for Rowan to go into more detail.

“I made some comment about the breakup, she refused to look at me, I basically mocked and condescended her, and then Aedion told me to fuck off and I left.” He reached down into the cooler for a drink.

“Um wow.” Lorcan sighed. “Nice going asshole.”

Rowan just held his beer out in salute and took a long drink. He was more than ready to forget about the whole day and move on. Unfortunately, his friends seemed less inclined for his plan.

“The news of their breakup is all over the school.” Fenrys told them. He had always been their number one source of gossip, considering the rest of them despised most social interaction. “Guys are already placing bets on who can sleep with her first. Cairn bet Nox 1000$ he can nail her by Dorian’s party this Friday.”

Rowan tried and failed to ignore the tightening in his chest.

“Will she even go to that?” Gavriel posed. “Dorian is Chaol’s best friend anyway.”

“She’ll be there.” Rowan blurted before he could take it back.

All eyes again flipped to him. “Why don’t you make a move Rowan?” Lorcan asked, a smirk etched onto his lips.

“Fuck off Salvaterre. I hate the bitch.” Rowan snarled.

“You didn't seem to hate her so much when - “ Fenrys began.

Rowan was already up and moving before he could hear the end of the sentence. He ignored their calls of apology and to come back, instead getting into his car and pulling out. At last, he pulled into the parking space in front of his aunt’s house and leaned his head against the car window.

It had barely been a week and his senior year was already shaping up to be a fucking mess.

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

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julemmaes · 4 years

Note

Congrats! "They should have known that fake dating never goes according to plan." for Rowaelin please 😊

He Truly Loves Her - October 8th

Rowan Whitethorn x Aelin Galathynius

A/N: Same as before, I’m really sorry I didn’t post it yesterday, but I couldn’t find the time to write this and didn’t want to post some shitty stuff just because. I hope you like it, enjoy!:)

Word count: 1,502

Elide was watching Lysandra desperately trying to get Aelin away from the bar.

She and Nehemiah had sidelined with Lorcan when the songs had become too slow for them to keep on going and now couples on couples were swinging like a herd of dying cows.

Elide laughed at her own thought, only slightly drunk. Lorcan looked at her confusedly, arching an eyebrow, "What are you laughing at?" he asked her by putting his arm around her hips and pulling her to his side. Nehemiah looked at them with affection and Elide winked at her, smiling slyly.

She turned towards her boyfriend, taking his nose between two fingers. Lorcan moved until he was free from her grip, and squeezed her wrists to hold her still while she giggled. Elide knew full well how much Lorcan loved the drunk her.

"Nothing, I like that you and I are not cows." the boy burst out laughing, asking her what he was babbling about, but Elide was no longer watching him. Her attention was once again captured by Aelin and Lysandra.

Nehemiah squeezed in her shoulders next to Elide, "I feel so sorry for her." she murmured as Alein struggled to stand on those heels, then her expression got sour, "And I'd really like to talk to him about what an asshole he is."

Elide's gaze shifted to the center of the improvised dance floor in Dorian's house, where an equal slightly drunk Rowan was dancing with a girl they all knew very well.

Lyria Ballard had been with Rowan for more than four years. They had met at the end of high school and had been together all through college, making everyone believe that once they were out of school they would live together in one of those mansions you see on TV, with a perfect, large, happy family. No one would have expected that once back from summer vacation they would announce their breakup.

It hadn't been difficult to keep the group together, Lyria had moved to another state shortly afterwards and Rowan had met other people, including Aelin.

The blonde girl had been a thunderbolt for the boy and a burst of life for the whole group. She had brought so many new people into their small circle that sometimes Elide forgot how many they really were.

"Maybe I should go talk to him, this story is getting too complicated," said Lorcan interrupting her thoughts.

She shook her head, "Ae asked us not to say anything and we will do so. Rowan will realize the mistake he is making on his own."

In front of Lorcan's upset but determined face, Nehemiah added, "We mean it Lor, Aelin says that if he doesn't realize it himself, it's not worth it. If he really has any feelings beyond friendship for her, he should act of his own, not because a friend of his has pointed it out."

Lorcan turned to her at that point, "So should we just stand here and watch while those two destroy each other?"

Elide was inclined to support his point of view, but she took his hand squeezing it, "Aelin asked us not to interfere and we won't."

Nehemiah sighed next to her and then they fell silent again, watching Rowan laughing at something the girl in his arms had just told him.

When Lyria had returned it had been embarrassing to say the least.

Aelin and Rowan had never been together and there had been a long period, at the beginning of their friendship, when they couldn't stand each other for more than two minutes before one of them lashed out and started to insult the other badly, but once they got over that cliff, they started acting like an old married couple.

Elide still remembered when Fenrys had gone to her completely euphoric and gave her a speech about how he had never seen Rowan so happy with anyone, not even Lyria.

So when she had come back from Hybern only a few months later with the intention of staying in Adarlan forever and Rowan had proposed to Aelin that she pretend to be his girlfriend on some occasion to make Lyria jealous, the few who knew about it were shocked.

And they were even more shocked when Aelin had accepted the deal, saying that she, too, could use this to make one of the guys in her class, Sam Cortland, jealous.

Elide had read enough books to know where the bullshit was going.

Manon approached the trio with a clever smile on her face and patted Elide on the shoulder before asking, "What are you looking at? You guys all look like creeps."

When no one answered, she frowned, following the gaze of her friends to the massive figure of Rowan, "Ah, yeah." she whispered, taking a sip of her water. Manon was the designated driver that night, " Would anyone care to tell me what Galathynius' boyfriend is doing, or?"

Lorcan snorted, "They're not really together M, they were just fake dating."

Manon's head snapped in Elide's direction, looking for confirmation, "Fake dating? You're joking."

Nehemiah shook her head, "I'd rather."

"Rowan really got everybody. Aelin especially," added Elide, sitting on one of the chairs against the wall.

Manon laughed, "No guys, mine wasn't a question. You're joking, period." she said. Elide looked at her with a confused grimace, "What do you mean?"

"That they're not fake dating," Manon pointed out, taking her seat next to her.

Aelin, from across the room, burst into tears, and although Elide could not hear her, she knew it must have been a desperate cry, because all the people around her turned around and looked at her worryingly. She was about to get up and go to her, but Lysandra was already escorting her out of the room.

Elide turned again towards Manon, "Yes, they are."

"No, they're not."

"Yes, they really are." Nehemiah meddled.

"Are you trying to tell me that every time we went out and Lyria wasn't there or that Sam wasn't nearby, those two were making eyes at each other for fun?" asked the white-haired girl, "Or that every holy football game we've seen in the last few weeks when Aelin ran out onto the field to hug Rowan and kissed him in front of everyone, it was just practice?" Manon puffed, irritated, pointing to the dance floor where an upset Lyria was standing motionless in front of Rowan. Rowan, who was looking around alarmed.

"I have known Rowan since we were children. We grew up together and in the last few months he has done nothing but talk about Aelin." she started, "Aelin this, Aelin that." she huffed a laugh. "Yeah, it's true. They think they're faking it, but that-" she pointed a finger back at Rowan, who was now talking to a not-little-irritated Aedion, "Well, that's not faking it." she took a sip of water, "And believe me when I tell you I haven't heard Rowan say Lyria's name half a time in the last ten days."

Fenrys approached the two boys, an equally pissed off expression on his face. Elide managed to pick up the words "Lyria" and "piece of shit" from his speech. Rowan looked like a clubbed dog desperately trying to hide his tail between his legs.

"No one looks at anyone else the way he looks at her unless they promised eternal love to each other." Manon concluded, crossing her legs. "Those two are not faking dating. They just don't know it."

Rowan ran his hand over his face and Elide almost snapped when he turned around and walked towards Lyria. He took her by the hand and pulled her off the dance floor.

Lorcan did not seem to be in a more controlled condition than she was and Elide was amazed to see such outrage on his face. After all, Rowan was his best friend, but she was happy to find out that if Rowan did something stupid he wouldn't just blindly support him.

"They should have known that fake dating never goes according to plan." Nehemiah murmured, she sighed and walking away shortly afterwards towards the bar where Fenrys and Aedion were still talking.

Lyria was nodding disoriented, but she smiled at the end when Rowan seemed to apologize and put her hand on his arm. He smiled apologetically and she stood up tiptoeing, leaving a kiss on his cheek and pushing him towards the exit.

Manon got up at that point, looking at the couple sitting next to her. "Trust me guys, he truly loves her and if I know Rowan even a little bit, we can all trust that tomorrow morning Aelin will be the happiest person in the world," she smiled like one who knows what they're talking about and walked away.

Rowan was nodding, looking more scared than anything else, and ran towards the door of the house, towards Aelin.

Perhaps Manon was right. Maybe the next day Aelin would finally be happy.

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wilteddaisies · 3 years

Text

Done Waiting

Throne of Glass one shot

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Aelin going into the afterlife.

Warnings: death, TOG spoilers, fluff, many feels, cursing, just a teensy bit of suggestiveness and the end

Notes: Here’s an unedited, purely self indulgent fic that I put off writing for so long cause I kept tearing up thinking about it. And you fucking bet your ass I cried while writing this, too. Here, take it. *shoves fanfic towards you*

A moment ago, Aelin was laying on her bed in the Castle of Orynth, looking into the teary eyed faces of her beloved family. It was a bittersweet moment. She had begun to Fade about half a century ago, and had lost Rowan a century and a half before that, never quite healing from the loss of her mate. She felt sad knowing she was going, but she knew what was coming, what was waiting for her, who was waiting for her. And she knew that her children, and grandchildren, and great great grandchildren were more than capable of taking care of themselves and Terrasen. She remembered meeting the eyes of her eldest daughter, who squeezed her hand once more and told her, “It’s okay mom, we’ll be okay. Tell daddy I said hi.”

And then they were just gone. Aelin blinked in surprise, surprise because she was now standing in the middle of a sunny clearing in the woods, but even more so because of the lightness she felt. She no longer felt the ache in her limbs from old age, nor the sheer exhaustion from holding on for so long. She looked down to find herself in a body she had not seen in a very long time.

It was as if she had gone back in time, to centuries ago. She wore a familiar green gown, with an even more familiar crown. The exact same that she wore during her coronation after the Battle of Terrasen.

“You know, even Dorian didn’t show up in the afterlife wearing a crown on his head.” Her heart stopped. That voice, she knew that voice more than any other in the world. But, it sounded different from the last time she heard it, no longer raspy with age, but deep and powerful once again. She turned towards her favorite sound in the world and when she saw him, she let out a choked sob.

“Fireheart,” Rowan breathed, he looked exactly as he did on that first day in Wendlyn.

“Buzzard,” she managed to sob. And then she ran to him, closed the short distance between them as fast as she could and leapt into his arms. He caught her and embraced her tightly. She buried her face in his neck and breathed in his scent of fresh pine and snow, the scent of home. She pulled away just enough to look into his eyes, which were also wet with tears. Rowan pressed his forehead to hers, sweetly relishing in their long awaited reunion.

Aelin cupped his face gently and pressed their lips together for the first time in almost two centuries. His lips felt just as she remembered, soft and sweet. His arms tightened around her as he deepened the kiss, kissing her so fiercely she lost her breath.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, both of them had pupils blown wide and were panting heavily from the passionate moment they shared.

“We have all the time in the world to do that and more, my Fireheart,” Rowan whispered a hair's breadth away from her lips, “But there is something I want to show you.” He set her down gently and led her out of the clearing, and they walked through the forest.

He held her hand as they walked in a peaceful silence, listening to the birds sing. She wondered what it could possibly be. Perhaps he was leading her to the others. Her heart clenched at the thought of seeing her old friends who had passed centuries ago. She hoped Dorian, Chaol, Elide, Lysandra, and all the others were somewhere in this realm as well.

After a few minutes, she could see the trees stop suddenly. Was that another clearing ahead? No, it was a ledge, high overlooking this realm that seemed to go on forever.

“It’s beautiful,” Aelin said, “Is this really where I get to spend forever with you?” Gods dammit, she was going to start crying all over again. “It is,” Rowan smiled, “But that isn’t what I wanted to show you.” He looked over her shoulder, about a hundred meters further down the cliff and she turned to see a figure dangling his feet over the ledge. She drew a ragged gasp and clasped her hand over her mouth. He looked just like he did before he died. His chocolate brown curls dancing in the light breeze and catching an auburn tint in the sun.

“You kept me waiting here a long time, Fireheart, but he’s been waiting even longer.” Aelin looked to Rowan in disbelief and he nodded gently, as if saying ‘It’s alright. Run to him.’ And she did.

She broke out into a sprint and called out, “Sam!” His head turned towards her voice and his eyes widened in shock and his face crumpled into a teary eyed sad smile. He got to his feet and walked towards her. But unlike with Rowan, they slowed to a stop a few paces away from each other, taking each other in. Had it really been nearly a millennium since they had last met?

“Celaena. Or should I call you Aelin, now?” He smirked through his teary gaze. Oh how Aelin had dreamt of Sam seeing her as she truly was, a fae, a princess, a queen. The name sounded so strange coming from his lips, but it was not an unwelcome strangeness.

“You can call me whatever the fuck you want if you kiss me right now,” she managed to say. Her legs were frozen to the ground as he closed the distance between them, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek and using his thumb to wipe away the tears. She looked at him longingly, he was taken from her much too soon. He gently brought his lips down to meet hers in a tender kiss. She pulled away to whisper against his lips.

“I love you Sam Cortland, I know I’m about a thousand years too late but I don’t mean it any less.”

“And I love you, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius Whitehorn.”

Speaking of Whitehorn, Rowan had made his way down to them at this point and was leaning casually against a tree, watching their reunion from just far enough not to intrude. Aelin searched his face for any signs of unease but found none. In fact, he was smiling, he knew how much Sam meant to her and that she had enough love in her heart for the both of them. Sam also appeared to be fine with Rowan’s presence, even comfortable with it. They almost seemed like. . .like friends. Perhaps the last two centuries in this realm had given them the opportunity to work out the strange dynamic this was going to be.

Rowan pushed off the tree and made his way to stand behind Aelin, holding on to her waist from behind and nuzzling his face into her hair. She couldn’t help but arch into his touch. And Sam kissed a trail from her lips to her neck. She lifted her chin, giving him more access and moaned softly. Both men growled in response. Aelin shivered. Never in her lifetime did she imagine being pressed between the two loves of her life. Well, she also supposed this wasn’t really her lifetime. No, this was her very well deserved happy ending. But, it was only the beginning of forever.

Author’s Note: If you couldn’t tell I fucking LOVE Samlaena just as much as I love Rowaelin, so I gave her both. Sorry not sorry.

I do not consent for my work to be reposted or translated on tumblr or any other site, but reblogs are always welcome and very much appreciated!

#throne of glass #tog #sarah j maas #samlaena #rowaelin #aelin #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #sam cortland #sjm #acotar #aelin x rowan #aelin x sam #my writing

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charincharge · 4 years

Text

Cruel Summer, Part 11

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Some NSFW action in this one. You are all the best. Things are going to start to get slightly bumpy. Don’t hate me.

Sunlight streams through the slotted blinds into the guest room, waking Rowan slowly. He’s warm and content, tangled up in Aelin. His arm is draped over her stomach, and his face is pressed into the mess of blonde waves that spill over her shoulder. Rowan breathes slowly, unwilling to let this moment end yet. He knows as soon as Aelin wakes, he’ll have to put back on his mask of indifference, and he’s not quite ready to do that.

For a prolonged second, he lets himself feel. Feel how perfect it could be. He tries to imagine Aelin waking in his bed every day in an apartment, just the two of them – no roommates, no parents, no chaperones, no secrets. But the picture is too blurry, too far out of reach. Rowan grasps for it, but it quickly evaporates into smoke as he feels Aelin start to wake.

He closes his eyes, feigning sleep, as she turns to face him. He feels her trace her finger over his parted lips, and he can’t help but let them curl into a smile as she presses her mouth against his softly.

“What time is it?” he mumbles, cracking his eyes open. He tries not to gasp at how the gold around Aelin’s pupil flares and melts into turquoise in the early morning sun. She’s stunning.

“Early,” she croaks, her unused voice thick with sleep.

“Early enough to shower?” Rowan asks.

“Together?” Aelin asks, running her hands across his shoulders, and Rowan nods sleepily. “In my house, with my sleeping parents? In broad daylight?” she sasses, her attitude coming in full force, despite not being fully awake yet. “Risky, Mr. Whitethorn...”

Rowan is about to say never mind when Aelin rolls out of bed and pulls her nightgown over her head. She looks over her shoulder and tosses the silky fabric at Rowan, who watches her naked backside sway from side to side as she makes her way into the en suite bathroom.

Aelin is already in the shower by the time Rowan’s body catches up with his lust-addled brain. The water sluices down her tanned skin, dripping over her soft curves, and Rowan wants to touch her everywhere. He puts soap in his hands and rubs them together, lathering them up before running them down the smooth expanse of Aelin’s skin. It’s a weak excuse to touch her, but he doesn’t particularly care. She lets him soap her up thoroughly, letting his hands spend extra time on her breasts and between her legs.

“Please tell me you can be very quiet,” Aelin challenges him, holding up a condom he hadn’t even seen her grab. Rowan nods silently as Aelin rolls the condom onto him and turns around and bends over, hands pressed against the side of the wall. Rowan nearly passes out at the sight. He hasn’t had her like this before. From behind. And as he slides between her legs, he knows he won’t be able to do this often. She’s so tight and wet and warm. He swallows a moan as he bends over her, reaching for her chest and resting his head on his shoulder to hear her shallow pants. He holds her against him as tight as possible as their hips slap together, barely covered by the sound of water hitting the shower floor. He runs his hands between their legs where they’re joined, and Aelin’s knees suddenly buckle as she squeezes around him. It’s all too much and too fast, and Rowan follows behind her quickly. Aelin’s body sags, and Rowan has to work quickly to hold her up, lest they collapse.

He kisses his way down her back, keeping her upright in his sturdy grasp, both of them breathing hard. Not a word is exchanged as the pair finish their shower. But Aelin squirts some shampoo into her hand and motions for Rowan to lean down. He does so willingly and nearly purrs at the feeling of her hands in his hair. Once they’re cleaned, Aelin tosses the dirty condom down the toilet and grins widely.

“Good morning,” she says, pressing her lips against Rowan’s.

With one last kiss, Aelin disappears across the hall, completely undetected. Rowan lays back down in bed. It’s still so early. Before he knows it, he’s asleep again.

Rowan wakes to the sound of loud, chattering voices downstairs. He’s slightly disoriented before he realizes where he is and what room he’s in. He quickly gets dressed and makes his way down the stairs to join the rest of the family, but he’s surprised to see an unfamiliar face at the breakfast table, sitting next to Aelin.

His dark hair is parted to the side, and his brown eyes light up at something Aelin’s said. He’s wearing a short-sleeved button down with some sort of whale pattern on it and expensive looking sunglasses hang at the collar.

“Rowan!” Evalin greets him with a chipper smile. “Come meet our neightbor, Sam Cortland.”

Sam stands, revealing his salmon-colored shorts, and stretches out his hand for Rowan. He’s everything Rowan is not. Prep school born and bred, wealthy, sophisticated. He looks like he belongs in the Ashryver’s Italian marbled kitchen. Unlike Rowan, in his park uniform polo and khakis. He can’t help but notice that Aelin matches him, in a pink and green flowered dress. They look like a match made in prepster heaven. Rowan’s stomach sinks, but he offers his hand back with a forced smile and introduces himself in turn.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Evalin asks, and Rowan declines, saying he’s not a breakfast person.

Dorian shovels eggs into his mouth. “Come sit anyway. We’re going to walk over to the park in a few.”

Rowan sits. He tries to relax and participate in conversation, but it’s hard when his body tenses each time Sam leans over to tell something to Aelin; each time Aelin laughs or smiles in response it’s even worse. He knows he’s driving himself crazy over nothing – that he was the one inside Aelin this morning, and last night, for that matter. But there’s something in Sam’s disarming tone and lackadaisical smile that unsettles him.

Rowan’s more than relieved when it’s time to head to work. The four of them walk down the beach together. Rowan manages to take his spot walking next to Aelin, letting his fingers brush against hers occasionally “by accident.” Aelin smiles each time, and so he doesn’t stop.

“So, what’s the best ride at this place?” Sam asks, looking directly at Aelin and no one else. “I think the last time I was here I was about ten, so…”

“The Firecoaster is my favorite,” Aelin answers immediately. “But Dorian likes the log flume.” Aelin pauses. “What’s your favorite ride, Rowan?”

“Uh, I haven’t actually been on any of the rides,” Rowan admits, and Aelin stops walking, her eyes widening in shock.

“What do you mean you haven’t been on any of the rides? You’ve worked at the park for a month!”

Rowan frowns. “Yeah, working.” He pauses, thinking. “My least favorite ride to work is the ferris wheel.”

Aelin looks as if her mind is being blown at Rowan’s answers, though he can’t quite comprehend why. “That’s it,” she says resolutely. “Next day off I’m taking you to the park.”

Dorian laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what Rowan wants to do on his day off, Ace. Go to his place of work.”

“It’s the best place in the world!” Aelin replies. “He should be so lucky to have me show him around.”

Sam interjects. “I know I, for one, feel incredibly lucky to have you take me today.”

It takes everything in Rowan’s willpower not to roll his eyes.

“Sure,” Rowan answers, and Aelin smiles.

“Yeah?”

Rowan nods, and Aelin’s smile widens. He would do anything to keep that smile on her face.

They arrive at the park all too soon, and Rowan is reluctant to let Aelin out of his sight, but he knows he needs to check what shift he has first. He brushes by her and squeezes her hand softly, and he smiles when she squeezes back, acknowledging their small secret moment, before she takes off with Dorian and Sam.

It turns out he’s stationed at the log flume first, so he’s not surprised when he runs into Dorian nearly immediately.

“Where’s Aelin?” Rowan inquires, looking around for her familiar golden ponytali.

Dorian rolls his eyes. “The princess apparently didn’t wear the right outfit to get wet in, so they’re going to play games until I’m finished.”

Rowan pauses. “Sam didn’t want to come with you on the ride?”

Dorian scoffs. “I don’t think Sam is particularly interested in hanging out with me.” Rowan’s brow furrows, and he swallows, his mouth suddenly extremely dry. “Aelin’s a big girl,” Dorian clarifies, upon seeing Rowan’s face. He pats his shoulder. “Don’t worry. She can handle herself.”

“I’m not worried,” Rowan says too quickly, and Dorian throws him a knowing smirk as he hops onto the ride. Rowan reminds himself to work harder on his poker face.

The sun beats down on Rowan’s shoulders, and by mid-afternoon he can feel a burn starting to heat the back of his neck. Rowan’s mood has progressively gotten worse. He’s spotted Sam and Aelin and Dorian a few times in the park, but Aelin hasn’t stopped by to say hi to him once. He knows it’s because she’s entertaining Sam at the behest of her parents, but it still hurts a bit.

Which is why at the end of the day, when he sees a text waiting from her, Rowan is relieved and thrilled.

We’re getting dinner at Town Dock Tavern. Come join when you get off?

Rowan heads to the restaurant without even changing. It’s off the beaten path a little – overlooking the water with a perfect view of the sunset. It’s more intimate than he expected, the small tables it only by candles on the inside with a large wraparound window to get the best glimpse of the waterfront view.

Rowan takes a look at the menu in the window and notices the prices. $18 for a bowl of chowder? $30 for fish tacos? Rowan wonders if they’re putting gold into the food. Even though it’s a bit – okay, way – out of his price range, he’s still anxious to see Aelin. Maybe he can just sit with them and pick up something cheaper on the way home.

He enters the restaurant and spots her immediately. She and Sam are at a small table, just the two of them, heads huddled together and laughing over something. Sam reaches over the table and grasps Aelin’s hand, and she doesn’t pull away. In fact, she tilts her face down, tucking her chin into her chest, the way she does when she’s flustered and blushing. Rowan looks around, wondering where Dorian is, but he’s nowhere to be found. There’s not a third seat. Not a third plate. No, it’s just the pair of them. Looking very much like they are on a date.

Rowan’s stomach twists when he realizes that Sam has taken Aelin out before he has, despite them sharing beds for the last week. No, that’s not quite it, he reminds himself. Apparently, Sam is allowed to take Aelin out, but he’s not. Rowan exits the restaurant without alerting them of his presence.

Once he’s safely back in his truck, he texts Aelin back, working hard to keep his tone light and unaffected.

I think I’m going to head home. Someone kept me up late last night and woke me up early this morning…

He’s surprised when his phone vibrates a minute later with a reply.

Who would be so inconsiderate?!

It vibrates again.

Get some sleep. See you tomorrow?

By the time Rowan arrives back at this apartment, he’s a mess of feelings. It’s not that Aelin doesn’t like him – he knows she does. But they haven’t established any rules or regulations to this thing they’re doing. What does casual even mean? Does it mean she can hook up with other people? Date them? Is it too late to clarify? He hates this.

Manon can sense his bad mood immediately and sighs loudly as she follows him into the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of whiskey.

“Want to bake?” she asks, and Rowan turns in surprise at his roommate.

“You’d bake with me?” he asks tentatively.

Manon shrugs. “I had a crap day, too.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asks as he pulls out the flour, sugar, butter, eggs and some mixing bowls.

Manon raises a carefully groomed eyebrow. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Rowan chuckles.

“Yeah, me neither,” Manon agrees. She looks at the ingredients and then back at Rowan. “Okay, what are we making?”

Rowan explains the recipe he’s been wanting to try out – a sweet tea bundt cake with a pecan glaze. Manon is actually an excellent sous chef, helping him measure out everything, and the pair work in efficient silence, creating the sugary treat.

“You need to take a day off from her,” Manon finally says, her voice cutting into the silent room.

Rowan sets the timer as he closes the oven and sighs loudly. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about this.”

Manon shrugs. “Yeah, I can’t help myself.” She pauses and tugs at her platinum hair, clearly uncomfortable, before barreling forward. “Listen. I’m all for casual whatevering. That’s my life’s blood. But, what you’ve been doing isn’t actually casual. You’ve seen her literally every day for nearly a month. And the past two weeks have been all day, every day nonstop.”

Rowan wants to protest, but Manon isn’t wrong.

“I’m not saying ghost her for days. Don’t be a fucking ass,” she explains. “I’m saying, maybe just take one day off.”

“That’s not horrible advice,” Rowan admits.

Manon smirks. “Yeah, I know. If you’d ever fucking listen to me, you’d know I’m a genius.”

Rowan refills his whiskey and offers a glass to Manon, who gladly accepts it. They make their way to the couch and both plop down.

“Your turn?” Rowan asks, prodding Manon with his toe. She kicks him away and takes a large sip of her whiskey.

“Remember the date I went on the other night?” Rowan nods. “Well, turns out I thought it was a date, but she didn’t.”

Rowan rubs at his stubble. “Sorry, Man. That’s…shit.”

Manon shrugs, playing it cool, but even Rowan can see the hurt behind her golden eyes. “The trials and tribulations of being a gay girl. Whatever. We’re friends. It’s fine. I don’t care.”

Rowan laughs, softly at first. But once it takes off, he can’t stop. The laughter becomes raucous, releasing the tension he’s held in all day. “Oh, Man. We’re a mess.”

Manon looks at him seriously. “Take a day off. A full twenty-four hours.” Rowan looks at the phone in his hand with uncertainty. “You can do it,” Manon insists.

Rowan opens his phone and texts back.

I’m actually busy tomorrow. But let’s meet up later this week?

Rowan shows the text to Manon. She nods in approval, and he hits send. Rowan immediately turns his phone off, not wanting too see if Aelin replies or not. He hopes he has the strength to make it through one single day without her.

~*~*~*~*~

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤

Rowaelin modern AU ▶ Masterlist

note: before you start, my sincerest apologies to your heart. i tried to postpone the real angst for as long as I could; this made my heart hurt.

──────✧❅✦❅✧──────

Aelin Galathynius didn't know what possessed her when she let Lysandra drag her to a party on school night. She didn't know how her best friend had managed to convince Aedion to throw a god damned party in his house. She didn't know why she called up Rowan to extend the invitation, and she certainly didn't understand why she was still disappointed he couldn't make it.

She'd managed to hide her marks from Arobynn and he'd been too drunk to remember anything of use himself. She'd be surprised if he knew his own name with the condition he was in.

That was one of the reasons she was out tonight: it was rare that Arobynn wasn't home and rarer that he was home and too gone inside his head to give two fucks about where Aelin went. She planned to make the most of it.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" Dorian asked, drinks in both hands. He offered her one.

Aelin accepted it, already having lost count of the amount of alcohol she'd consumed. "Mm, can't wait to turn eighteen and move out of the damn house." She didn't like the way Dorian looked back at her, with pitiful eyes. But it was soon replaced with his usual dazzling smile.

"Where is Sam?" he asked.

Aelin furrowed her eyebrows. "He's here?" She'd been hanging around the diner a lot since he asked her out. He was going to ask her to be his girlfriend soon, she could tell.

It was a strange realisation. His advances were far from unwanted, she liked it. She liked him. But there was no excitement, no ecstacy. Her face didn't light up with a smile every time she saw him. That was just all of Lysandra's romance talk getting to her.

She tried not to be envious of her cousin and her best friend. It was hard when they looked at each other like no one else existed. She thought dating Sam would quell that discontentment but it only worsened when she realised that even though she was in a relationship, she didn't feel any of those things her friend gushed about.

Maybe Lysandra had exaggerated.

Or maybe she was broken?

Aelin wasn't an idiot.

She saw how Sam looked at her, at least. It was the same lovesick look on Aedion's face. It just didn't make her stomach flip in excitement.

God, she was too sober for this.

Aelin refilled her cup, then went to find her soon to be boyfriend. He grinned when his eyes fell on her. "I've been searching for you. You should've told me you were coming here tonight." The words were delivered in a joking manner, though she could detect a hint of hurt beneath them.

She smiled apologetically. "It was a last minute plan. Plus, I didn't think this was your scene."

Before their conversation could turn even more awkward, she was interrupted by a familar voice. "Oh. Hi, Sam. Aelin." She turned towards Rowan, grinning like a fiend.

"I thought you weren't coming."

Rowan said, "I wouldn't have."

"Then why did you?" she quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Fenrys dragged me out here." Her smile dimmed a little at his words. What else did she want to hear? He added: "I figured if you started throwing vases at people again, I'd better be there to capture it in a video."

Aelin gasped. "Did Rowan Whitethorn just make a joke? A historical moment."

Rowan rolled his eyes. Sam was engaged in a conversation with someone from his school when she turned around. So Aelin accompanied her friend to get more drinks with every intention to return to her unofficial boyfriend. But one drink turned into more until she was hammered.

Rowan remained a dedicated babysitter by her side all through the night.

Aelin laughed and danced and sang and drank and danced some more. When it was time for everyone to leave, most of her group decided to crash on the couches in Aedion's living room, none of them wanting to go back home, exhausted as they were.

She convinced Rowan to stay with them, even though he was sober and fell asleep snuggled next to him on the couch. Sam Cortland didn't cross her mind even once until she woke up to a text from him: You disappeared through the party and won't pick up your phone so I returned home. Sorry. Hope you had fun. She told herself it was all the alcohol. She would have remembered him otherwise, and that he must not have tried to search for her hard enough. But then why did she feel so guilty?

Aelin Galathynius didn't know how a day could possibly worsen more.

──────✧❅✦❅✧──────

She woke up on Aedion's couch, her head throbbing and her limbs groaning in pain. Her neck and back muscles hurt everytime she moved. Adding to her agony, she had cheerleading practice in her third period. That meant more muscle exertion. By the time recess came, she was ready to burst into tears.

Except it was about to be worse.

After lunch, she and Rowan made their way to class only to discover they would be working in groups of four. Since they were the last ones to enter, the two of them were grouped together with the only two students left: Chaol Westfall and an exchange student, Elide Lochan.

Rowan gave her a sympathetic look as they drew their chairs together.

The four of them stared at each other uncomfortably. Elide broke the silence. "Sooo what topic are we doing?"

Even Aelin, right in her element, couldn't think of something. She suggested topics off the top of her head but they were all overused. Everytime she tried to focus, she felt her ex boyfriend's eyes on her and her mind turned blank. Should she talk to him like they were friends or pretend they were strangers?

She opted for the latter.

After some discussion, they decided on a topic and their roles. Aelin walked up to the teacher's desk to claim their topic when her ex boyfriend followed. She wanted to shout at him. He hadn't once tried to talk to her in the two months after their breakup and now that she was moving on, he wanted in. She didn't want to hear what he had to say. Not now, not yet.

He shook his head. "If you'd just listen to me once, Ace—" Rowan interrupted them, calling her name.

Aelin shot him a grateful smile as she returned to their seats, directing her attention towards the dark-haired girl with them. Aelin liked Elide Lochan. She was smart, funny and kind as far as she could tell. She listened without judgement, and had a lot of interesting things to add herself.

──────✧❅✦❅✧──────

Aelin had been right in introducing her friends to Elide. She was shy at first, but all of them were accommodating enough that she got comfortable, sitting between Lysandra and her.

Aelin reserved a seat beside her, she didn't know why. It was a pleasant surprise when Rowan ditched his usual corner seat and asked, "Is this seat taken?" Heat rushed to her cheeks and it was all she could do to nod.

She liked having Rowan close. His presence calmed her nerves. Only last period, thrice Chaol tried to start a conversation with her, and thrice Rowan quieted him down.

After calming her heart, Aelin asked, "Where's Lorcan?"

A deep voice said from behind her, "Here, of course," and there he stood, lunch tray in hand and dark eyes fixed on the girl sitting in his chair.

Elide noted with surprise all the chairs on their table were occupied. "Oh—uh, you can sit here, I'll bring, uh, another."

Lorcan smiled.

Either Aelin was having a ridiculous, strangely vivid dream or the sun had risen from the west because Lorcan smiled at a stranger. And gods, that was a faint blush on his cheeks.

She grinned. "Fuck, no! Wait. I'll move; Lor, you sit here." There he sat.

Aelin pushed Rowan's lunch tray into his lap, climbing on the table in front of him. She kicked off her heels, then crossed her legs and placed her own lunch tray in front of her. Elide fit right in with the rest of them, listening with a small smile and adding her own accounts of things occassionally. If the rest of her friends noticed Lorcan paying extra attention to the lunch conversation, no one mentioned it.

"Didn't know you play matchmaker too," Rowan told her.

Her lips twitched upwards. Aelin Galathynius looked down at him from her position with an expression that was borderline inappropriate, she said, "I'm a woman of many talents, Mr. Whitethorn. Many talents."

Rowan's answering blush was everything she'd hoped for.

──────✧❅✦❅✧──────

Aelin Galathynius entered her house, the quiet making her heart ache.

She expected Arobynn to be passed out on the couch where he ended up every morning after a night of spending her inheritance away on drinks and gambling. But Arobynn wasn't there.

He's not home, she told herself. He probably passed out somewhere.

And then there were footsteps. A red-haired man stepped into the living room, sidestepping all the empty bottles on the floor. He wasn't drunk, he looked very much sane. She didn't like that. When he was drunk, it was easier to slip past him. He didn't care about her existence and that was the best she could hope for.

But he wasn't drunk and she didn't know what he planned to do.

Heart racing fast, Aelin spared a look towards the stairs. If she could run fast enough and make it to her room, she'd lock herself inside. But what was to stop him from coming inside after her? The locks weren't strong enough to keep him out for more than a few minutes—

"Don't think about running, Aelin. I want to talk, nothing more," Arobynn warned.

Talk. She didn't believe that for a second. Aelin looked at him, then at the stairs and then at the phone in her hand. She could lock herself inside, then call Aedion or Lorcan or someone. She needed to buy herself time.

"Aelin, stop!"

Aelin made a run for it, tripping on the red carpet that stank of alcohol. It had been her mom's favourite once. She fell face first on the table, the sharpened corner making a cut across her cheek. She swore out loud, her phone fell away from her. She ran towards the closest door from her position, struggling with the lock in her panic.

Arobynn stuck his foot between the door, trying to open it again. She'd once known him to be a kind, caring man. In a different world, where she didn't have to hide inside her house and her biggest problem had been the homework she needed to submit the next day, where her parents still lived and this house wasn't a reminder of everything she'd lost. Sweat beads formed on her forehead and the back of her neck; Aelin pulled the door close with all the strength she had. She locked the door, pushed the drawer with toiletries in front of it and slumped against the wall.

The adrenaline faded, tears rolling down her cheeks and the fear set in.

"Open the door, Aelin," Arobynn said. She hated his voice. "Open the fucking door if you know what's good for you."

She realised with a jolt her phone was still outside, then slowed her breathing down, arms wrapped around her knees.

Eventually, his shouts quieted down. Aelin couldn't tell if he was still there or not but she didn't dare check. She washed the blood away from her face. The sobs subsided but the tears didn't leave the whole night. Sleep didn't come to her at all. It was in the morning, when there was still no sign of Arobynn being home that she sneaked out of the bathroom, heart thumping inside her chest that she left the room.

She grabbed her phone, then ran towards her room. Once she made sure it was locked, she turned her phone on. Ignoring all the missed calls from her friends, she dialled the first number she could. "Aelin, you know how I feel about you not picking your phone. I thought the worst, god—"

"Aedion?" a sob escaped her mouth.

"Yes? Are you okay?"

"Aedion," her voice came out coarse and much softer than she intended, "Please—I can't—Can you pick me up?"

Aedion barked a curse in the background. "Of course, I'm coming. I'll be there in a few minutes, ok? Don't end the call—" his words were drowned out when someone knocked on her door.

"You can't dodge me forever, Aelin."

Aelin sank to her knees, vision growing unfocused as more tears escaped. Before her cousin could arrive, her world went black.

──────✧❅✦❅✧──────

I'm trying real hard to resist my inner wattpader and not make this a cliche so y'all better appreciate my efforts.

tags:

@thesirenwashere // @courtofjurdan //@fangirltrash74 // @the-dark-swan // @queenofgreenbriar // @clockworkgraystairs // @julemmaes // @rowaelinforeverworld // @mymultiversee // @queen-of-glass // @strangely-constructed-soul // @mijaldraws // @http-itsrebecca // @aesthetics-11 // @lord-douglas-the-third // @flowersinvegas // @towhateverend17 // @aelinchocolatelover // @justabunchoffandoms // @cool-ish-nerd // @faerie-queen-fireheart // @sad-book-whore // @didsomeonesayviolin // @atozfantazyxx // @hizqueen4life // @the-gods-killer // @booknerdproblems // @annejulianneh111 // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @curlyredqueen06 // @moondancer-204 // @thesurielships // @witchling-leonor // @ladywitchling // @amren-courtofdreams // @ifinallygavein // @jlinez // @faequeenaelin // @df3ndyr // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @bitchy-knees // @superspiritfestival // @xx-fiona-xx // @stardelia // @maastrash // @miihlovesnoone // @totenhamboys20

there's so many people whose tags won't work, I feel bad, I'm sorry.

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polaroidsintheocean · 3 years

Note

I know I'm super late for the ask game thing but here's me sending it in anyway in hopes that you'll reply 🥺

Sam Cortland, Ruhnn Danaan, Amren

Time is just an illusion, my friend (lol no you're not late time does not exist on this hellsite)

Sam Cortland general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff best quality: WHERE DO I START?? he's super sweet, considerate, caring, thoughtful, sensitive, charming, funny, protective, just an all around sweetheart 😭😭 worst quality: absolutely none. ship them with: celaena ig brotp them with: lysandra needs to stay away from: i'd say arobynn, but it's a bit too late for that misc. thoughts: no one's death hit me as hard as sam's. i went into the book knowing he was gonna die, and as much as i tried to brace myself for the inevitable, his death absolutely wrecked me, body and soul. i sent my friend a hundred voicemails of me sobbing and crying about sam after his death scene, and i couldn't read the book for weeks afterwards.

#ask game #ask #you really wanted to make me cry with sam and then see red with amren huh #thanks for the ask bell <3

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knittingdreams · 3 years

Text

Fireheart - Chapter 23

Sorry for the wait! Here’s another chapter for y’all <3

If you’re following the story on Ao3, I uploaded the newest chapter there last night!! It’s a good oneee :D

If you’re not up to date, here’s the Masterlist

Tiny tag list: @tillyrubes10

CHAPTER 23

Owning the title

As Aelin got her gown out of the plastic bag from the dry cleaners, she found herself still thinking about the night before. She had stayed with Sam at the beach long into the night, and they had talked about the past few years, about everything they knew about Arobynn and their secret dreams of wishing he was out of the picture.

Sam explained he wasn’t scared about himself, but about her when he had made the deal with Arobynn; and after a lot of convincing, Sam had agreed to stop passing information to him, and only give him the information they would agree on. He also told her Arobynn had been oddly distant, traveling all the time and having secret meetings Sam wasn’t invited to.

Aelin had even confided in Sam that she was gutted to have lost Nehemia and that it sucked not to be able to be herself with people. She was tired of lying and hiding all the time, and Sam was the only other person who could understand that. But what other option did she have? He had suggested for her to try again, to give Nehemia the chance to get closer, to get a glimpse of the real Aelin, and she had almost told him to fuck off for it. But she had promised herself to try and be the sister Sam had always seen her as, so she had just punched him in the shoulder for being obnoxious and unrealistic instead.

She had woken up that morning feeling so much lighter, so relieved to have let such a huge weight off her shoulders. She might have fucked things up with Nehemia, but at least she had Sam back.

A knock on the door startled her, and she went to open up.

“Since when do you knock?” She raised her brows at Sam and made sure her dressing gown was properly closed.

“Well, after our chat last night, I thought you’ve earned it.”

“You’re such a weirdo, Cortland. Come in before anybody sees you lurking around.”

She pushed Sam into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Everything good and ready for tonight?”

“Actually, I heard Arobynn talking on the phone today,” Sam said as he followed her into the bedroom. “And he’s going to that gala.”

Celaena turned around swiftly. “He, what?”

“I think he’s someone’s plus one, but I’m not sure I got that right. I just thought you ought to know.”

“Well, that sucks.”

She paced up and down the room, considering what she could do about it. Did it change anything?

“It’s a masquerade though, isn’t it? He might not even recognize you.”

“No chance of that,” she said, showing him the dress she was about to put on. “It’s one of the dresses he gifted me, and I was going to wear Fireheart’s mask because it matches it perfectly. He will know it’s me.”

The dress was a red long gown, with a low V neck that went down almost to her navel and a closed-back, all embroidered with silver and gold stones. It had short sleeves that hugged her shoulders nicely, a tight bodice that accentuated her curves, and a flowy skirt that seemed to dance around her every time she walked.

“Well, you have an excuse to be there, it’s not a big deal. I just wanted you to be mentally prepared to run into him.” Sam grabbed the dress off her hands and took it out of the hanger. He ran his fingers across the stones in the back and started opening up the hidden zip on the side. “What shoes are you wearing?”

Feeling a bit weirded out, Celaena grabbed the shoes off the side of the bed and lifted them for Sam to see them. They were high heels that wrapped up halfway through her calves.

“You’re going to give Dorian a heart attack,” Sam said laughingly. “Want a hand getting into it?” he asked as he passed her the gown.

“Oh, fuck off, Cortland, we’re not that kind of friends!” She set the gown down on the bed and started pushing Sam out of the room. “Now, come on, get out of here, I need to get ready.”

“We could be that kind of friends, you know.”

“Out, now!”

Sam laughed out loud as he was shoved all the way down the hall, and walked the rest of the way towards the front door. He grabbed the duffel bag by the entrance and turned around to smile at her before heading out the door.

“See you later!” he chanted as he closed the door between them.

“Fuck sakes, I give him a fingertip and he grabs my whole damn arm.” Celaena walked back to her room biting her lip, the laughter stuck on her chest as she tried too hard to keep it down.

An hour later, she walked down the hall, hit the call down button, and jumped into an empty elevator. When the doors opened up at the lobby, Dorian was already waiting for her, leaning against the front desk casually while talking with one of the receptionists. As she walked out, he straightened up and walked over, meeting her in the middle of the lobby.

“Wow,” he said as he offered her an arm. “You look stunning tonight, not like you don’t usually look stunning.”

“Thanks.” She hooked her elbow on his, and they turned towards the exit. “You look pretty okay yourself.”

“Okay? Wouldn’t you say… dazzling? Marvelous? Splendid?” He smiled broadly at her, and Celaena stifled a laugh.

“I’ll stick with okay.”

It was a lie, Dorian was wearing a dark blue tuxedo with a red bowtie that matched her dress perfectly, and he did look indeed dazzling. He had a dark blue mask that covered only his eyes, making them seem a lighter shade of blue if that was even possible. They would have matched so much better if Celaena wasn’t wearing those damned contact lenses. His dark hair was the perfect contrast to her ash-blond curls, and as she caught a glimpse of themselves in the mirror by the entrance, she realized heads would be turning their way all night... And there was no way Arobynn wouldn’t notice her.

They rode alone in a limousine, Dorian trying to make small talk and convince her to stay till later the whole time. Walking into the venue, heads did turn their way, and Dorian greeted absolutely everybody, introducing her to other businessmen, female entrepreneurs, and even a few family members. He was polite and kind to everybody, and Celaena was surprised to see a side of him she hadn’t seen at school.

The stuck-up guy was gone, and a more formal but caring Dorian was showing instead.

“Celaena, would you like a drink before we head towards the dining room?” he asked her once they had greeted everybody.

“Uhm, sure, just a glass of water would be fine.”

“Really?” He scowled.

“Yes, that’s all I want for now. Get them to pour it in a flute if it makes you happier. You can even make it sparkling water. Fancier, you know.”

Dorian shook his head before walking away and leaving her in the middle of the room by herself. She shouldn’t have been surprised that Arobynn found his way to her side as fast as he did once Dorian was gone.

“Funny to see you here,” he whispered into her ear, casually standing next to her with a drink in his hand.

“I could say the same,” she replied politely.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for a fight? I have a lot of money on tonight,” he said as he looked to the front, pretending he wasn’t talking to her.

“Don’t worry, you won’t lose a dime.” She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at him sideways.

Arobynn was wearing a black tuxedo with a black shirt and black bowtie. He was freshly shaved, and his hair was shorter than the last time she had seen him, which meant he was probably trying to impress someone; but who?

“Let’s just hope things don’t go sour like last time.”

Celaena turned to look at him nimbly, but Arobynn was already walking away, getting lost between the crowd.

“Are you okay?” Dorian asked, reaching her at that moment, and passing her a flute of sparkling water with a slice of lemon inside. “Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yes, fine. Let’s go find our table, my feet are sore already.”

“Sure thing, this way.”

Dorian guided her between the crowd, saying a few words here and there to people she didn’t pay any attention to. Plates came and went, and she cut food up and shoved it into her mouth without really tasting it. She said her piece when people talked to her, and stared at the stage as strangers gave out speeches. But the whole time, Arobynn’s words were playing back in her mind.

Sam couldn’t have told him anything; Sam hadn’t even known.

And Arobynn had acted like he didn’t know anything about it during the weekend, so what had changed? Had anything even changed, or was Arobynn playing with her? He was seated on a table towards the back, and she could barely see his figure from so far away. She had glanced his way a few times, but all she could see was his profile, and the long dark hair from the lady sitting next to him.

Once the time for her to leave came, she purposely walked past his table and caught the lady as she was standing up and walking out of the room. She was wearing a silver gown that hugged her curves nicely and watching her from behind, she could have been anywhere between 20 and 40 years old. Celaena tried to follow the woman but lost her in the lobby as she walked into the women's bathroom. She considered going into the bathroom for a fraction of a second, but she was running out of time and she couldn’t afford to be late.

She walked out of the venue and found her motorbike parked at the back, where Sam had left it for her. She lifted the seat and pulled out her black leggings, then put them on under the dress, and folded the dress up as much as she could manage. She closed her jacket over the dress covering most of it and pulled her hair up in a low ponytail. She rode over to the fighting pit, where Sam would be waiting for her with the full change of clothes. At least, she already had her mask on and didn’t need to worry about makeup or hiding her identity any further.

The Fossa was already packed when she arrived, and the crowd was going wild. Celaena nodded at Connall as she walked through the back door, who barely nodded back. She didn’t see either Rowan nor Fenrys as she made her way to the backroom; not like she was looking for them anyway.

Sam handed her the duffle bag as soon as she walked in and she sneaked into the changing rooms. Luckily, there was a women’s changing room that was always empty, where she got rid of the dress and put on a short-sleeved red top. She was done with black, she was out of the shadows, she was fire, and she would live up to the name.

“Ready?” Sam asked as she walked back into the room and scanned the small crowd. To her surprise -and delight- Cain was nowhere to be seen.

“Always.”

“Good, because I think you’re up first.”

“Great. By the way, the mask suits you.” She laughed at Sam’s annoyed look; the black mask was similar to hers and looked hilarious on Sam. But it was a necessary measure now that they knew someone from school was lurking around the pits too. If Lorcan recognized either of them, they could potentially get into a lot of shit. It was better if neither of them could be traced back to the school and stayed anonymous. The masks didn’t conceal the whole of their faces, but it was enough to make them harder to recognize to strangers. Or so she hoped.

Fenrys poked into the back room as Celaena was still laughing at Sam’s expression, and looked straight at her with a serious look on his eyes.

“Fireheart, you’re up.” He turned his gaze towards Sam for a moment, and then turned around and was out of the room. She followed him out, and they walked the short hall towards the stage.

“Missed me?” Fenrys whisper-yelled as they walked, the crowd roaring around them.

“Not at all.” She kept her eyes on the stage, her chin up, not looking at the crowd.

“Was that your mysterious boyfriend?”

“None of your business.”

“So sassy, I love it. Good luck, girl.”

They reached the stage, and she looked at him for a fraction of a second. “I’m not your girl, and I don’t need luck.” She finished with a wink and jumped onto the platform.

While her rival jumped onto the stage too, she looked around the crowd quickly. No woman was lurking in the shadows, and there was no sign of Rowan anywhere around the venue either. She spotted Lorcan far away, minding the crowd close to the customer’s entrance; and then the fight started.

She was back to her usual self, and she felt fast and confident as she danced around the stage, giving the crowd the show they had paid for. After the suffering she had endured after the last fight, she wasn’t looking for a clean and quick fight, she was eager to get her hands dirty, to make someone suffer. She was merciless, she was ash, and smoke, and embers. She was blazing, and no one could beat her. Fireheart punched and kicked, sidestepped and twirled, blocked and jabbed. She was unstoppable, and by the time the fight was over, there wasn’t a single new bruise on her body.

“That was impressive,” Fenrys said as she jumped down, the crowd roaring so loud that she could barely hear him. She scoffed as she walked right past him, and kept walking towards the back room.

“I was just warming up.”

#throne of glass fanfic #tog fanfic #fireheart #chapter twenty three #aelin #nehemia #sam cortland #fenrys moonbeam

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mrsren · 3 years

Photo

March Reads + Sticky Tabs

There may be spoilers for all of these in under the line!

(These are in the order I read them)

The Assassin’s Blade (Throne of Glass Novellas) by Sarah J. Maas

I knew that Sam had been killed before Celaena went to Endovier. I knew that. I knew that and somehow still ended up so invested that my plans to not be invested in everything that is Sam Cortland were derailed so massively.

It’s not a secret that Celaena irritated me a lot in the first book (majorly improving in the second) but these were really helpful to learn her character. The novellas are really a book of their own, and I will always read it after Crown of Midnight now (except for that one page that I know word for word because I was thoroughly traumatized.)

My name is Sam Cortland and I will not be afraid.

No, I’m not okay, your honor.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab

After buying this last year, it has been one of my most anticipated reads ever since. I wanted so badly to love every aspect of this book, but I didn’t. And the reason why is really just convoluted, and only annoys me. I do love every part of this novel. Schwab is truly a master storyteller, and she writes an incredible villain. (Please, I don’t care how problematic it may be, I would like a Luc of my own.)

I loved every part, but I didn’t necessarily love them all together. I had issues with the pacing, and keeping my attention on the novel. A few times, I wanted to close the book because it wasn’t doing it for me. That changed once I met Luc, and I’ve told quite a few of my friends that I was really reading for Addie and Luc, but also as close as I could get to Addie’s resolution as well.

It may not be a book I reread often, but it sticks with me. Given what the book is about, who Addie is, and the lengths she goes to in order to leave her mark on the world, I think that may be even more important.

Heir of Fire (Throne of Glass #3) by Sarah J. Maas

I had my worries. I really loved that love interest in book two, and I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t love Rowan. I was wrong. Again. Surprise.

I’ve been told that the first few books were slow and HoF is where it picks up. In comparison, the first two books are slow but they’re actually packed full of action.

I think about the slow thaw between Aelin and Rowan all the time. They stick in my head. My family and boyfriend are annoyed that I’m still talking about Rowan and playing his song on repeat weeks later. Sucks for them.

Queen of Shadows (Throne of Glass #4) by Sarah J. Maas

Arguably my favorite book of the series so far, but I have one more to go.

I read the scene where Aelin and Rowan reunite ten times before I moved on.

I love Lysandra so much, when I thought I would hate her.

Still love Chaol, but want to throttle him more now.

I just want Dorian to be happy and safe.

I have the biggest ever crush on Manon Blackbeak

Where Dreams Descend by Janella Angeles

DNF around page 200. It wasn’t doing it for me, but I tried to love it.

Empire of Storms (Throne of Glass #5) by Sarah J. Maas

I am in so much pain.

QoS may be my favorite book but this one has some of my favorite scenes.

From Blood and Ash (FBAA #1) by Jennifer L. Armentrout

WOW. Listen, I recognize that there may have been some problems with the plot, pacing, or whatever I’ve seen on Goodreads but I actually am so in love with this series.

So in love that I might have ordered several bookmarks for it and I’m not sorry.

I don’t like dystopians, but this has a very dystopian feel but I love it so much. I haven’t been able to read vampires (it’s basically vampires, right?) for years but I LOVE THIS.

Two days and I haven’t stopped thinking about Hawke for a second.

A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire (FBAA #2) by Jennifer L. Armentrout

I loved the sequel even more than the first one. Now I have to wait for book three, and I’m having withdrawals.

I love a couple that fights but uses it as their way to create a barrier. I love a couple that says “this is just pretend” when I know damn well this is real.

Please, JLA, can I have book three.

Tower of Dawn (Throne of Glass #6) by Sarah J. Maas

I missed Chaol so badly in EoS and I was so happy to see him again. I guess it’s an unpopular opinion to love him, but I still do. What I loved even more was reading his character heal and develop while also reading him accept how things ended with Aelin.

(Still wanted to strangle him in QoS but I’ve always loved Chaol.)

I struggled to get into Nesryn’s storyline because I was so busy looking forward to when I would see Yrene again. By the end though, I more than loved Nesryn and Sartaq. My eyes were getting watery at a certain part for the two of them.

MARRIED. OH MY GOD.

HEIR.

I haven’t even started Kingdom of Ash yet and I have no idea how I will be able to close the book when I finish it.

To Love and to Loathe (ARC) by Martha Waters

I wasn’t sure if I would like historical romance, but it turns out that I do! I admit there were some terms I didn’t recognize but they were pretty easy to put together.

Diana’s antics and scheming are absolutely laugh out loud funny. I enjoyed her immensely as a protagonist.

My favorite part of romance novels, or movies, is always the scene where they cave to their feelings. And this one was no exception at all.

I liked the book so much that I ordered the first book about another character in the universe!

#bookish #throne of glass #from blood and ash #addie larue #march reads

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter ten: adrenaline rush

Careful not to make her head spin any more, Sam sat upright next to Joey on the flat surface. The bottle of water lay on its side right next to her hip and the trail mix rested right under her hand. She still felt unsettled in her stomach, but given the short bit of rest she had had, it had backed off enough to where she could yearn for something to eat for herself. She glanced back at Joey, who was still sound asleep with the bag of chips on his stomach.

She set a hand on his arm and she shook him.

“Hm?”

“Hey—do you know what time it is?” she asked him with a break in her voice; she cleared her throat and she let her tongue hang out of her mouth like that of a dog.

“Dunno...” He, too, cleared his throat, and then he rubbed his eyes, and he raised his wrist for a look down at his watch. “Quarter to five.”

“We only slept for two hours?” She was stunned by that.

“Apparently so.” She shifted her body about a bit for a better look at him. “How's your stomach feeling, by the way?” he asked her.

“Better,” she answered with a bow of her head. “Kinda hungry now, too. And thirsty. And I'm ready for a walk, too, I dunno 'bout you.”

Sam shifted her body about the other way and she slung her legs over the edge of the bed. She stood to her feet and stretched her arms over her head. She thought about Rosita and those long acrylic nails, and she realized she was alone with Joey there in that back room there in the venue. She wondered if the Cherry Suicides had already left for the next stop or if they awaited them outside of the building there.

Joey groaned and grunted, and she turned for a look at him, and his arms extended before him. It looked as though he struggled to do a crunch, but his legs were still straight out before him.

“What's wrong? Need help?”

“Nah,” he assured her; several locks of his black hair sprawled down his shoulders towards his chest as he finally managed to sit upright. The bag of chips landed right into his lap and then right in between his legs.

“That was lucky, wow,” he pointed out.

“I'll say. Wanna just leave our stuff here and then we'll come back to it?”

“I don't see why not,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Sam offered to help him off of the bed, but he insisted that he had it under control and yet he still fell off of the side of the bed on the floor. She gasped at him, but he raised an arm over his head.

“I'm okay!” he insisted. He scrambled to his feet and he straightened out his shirt before he joined her there at the doorway. They stepped out to the backstage area, now silent and deserted. A few cables had been strewn about the floor to the left and Sam flashed back to when Stormtroopers of Death toured that summer. Every so often, she swore a pain in her leg came back up again, but that wound had long healed.

That riff that Alex had played the few hours before stayed with her. It swirled and picked up again, almost like that of a spiral, and one that drilled its way into her mind. It was a fine wire to walk upon with these two men, especially since they both had their moments, and their flaws and foibles. Alex had shown her a little nugget outside of the restaurant in Syracuse, and she wished to see more of it. She knew it was there, but the question lingered over her.

Joey ran his fingers through his black curls and gave them a slight toss back over his shoulder. Sam caught a whiff of sweat from under his arm and she hoped he would shower later that day, whenever they reached their next stop and checked into the hotel there; at least he didn't smell of a beer bottle or an ashtray, or something worse.

“Hate when my head sweats,” he griped as he lifted his curls off of his back and shoulders, and revealed the back of his slender neck.

“Me, too—because your head itches every few seconds.”

He chuckled at that and he led Sam towards the side door in front of them. The sun hadn't risen as of yet, but the deep violet of the night sky began to wane away with the new shade of milky white over the ocean behind them. The crisp sea breeze sent a chill down her spine: even after two years, there were times in which the feeling of living on the West Coast still hadn't shaken off of her yet. Joey lingered close to her as they began down the alleyway towards the street.

Providence was a good sized city, but nothing like New York or even Syracuse: the deserted street greeted them with a series of pale yellow street lamps and a storm drain coated in a morning dew. There had to be a music shop or an art shop near there: it was close to the artistic side of town after all.

“So what's your next stop?” she asked him as they began towards the corner.

“Boston. I think? Two dates in Boston. We'll have to hustle back to the venue before the sun rises so Marla can come and get us 'cause I'm the one with directions.”

“Unless Danny's with her,” Sam pointed out.

“Unless Danny's with her, of course. But still. I'm the one with the directions.”

“She and I also walked here, too, so Danny might be with her for all we know. Also, not to change the subject, but did you happen to see a music shop or an art shop around here or anything like that?”

“Nah, I haven't. I also doubt we'll see anything like that on this walk here, either—it's still early after all.”

She nodded at that, and then she thought about what Alex had said to her the night before. She didn't want to think of Joey as lazy, especially after he said that to her. But then she thought of his drumming. He still had yet to show her his drumming, either with Anthrax or one of the bands he played in.

“Joey, I have a question,” she started again.

“I'm listenin'.” And he ran his fingers through his black curls once more.

“How come I've never seen you play the drums?”

“Well, like I said—I haven't really had the chance to do it lately. I also just haven't had the motivation to do it yet, either. It's almost like a sudden thing with me.”

“What do you mean?” she asked him with her eyebrows knitted together.

“I just kind of had to forfeit the drums for a bit in order to sing. Once I started singing more, the doors opened for me and I focused more on that.” He then stopped for a second, and Sam stopped right next to him.

“Maybe that's why my father is a little terse with me,” he said in a soft voice.

“Did your dad help you out with the drums?”

“He loaned me a bit of money for my kit, but I never got the chance to pay him back, though.” His brown eyes gazed down at her and a thoughtful expression appeared on his face.

“And what if you do?” she asked him. “Would that help things with him?”

“It'd definitely help things out, for sure. But I don't really know, though, to be perfectly honest. Like I said earlier before we fell asleep, my parents are ultra conservative with a lot of things. Not really musical in any way, either.”

He turned his head a bit and he gazed out to the street behind her.

“I have a question for you now,” he started in an absent tone.

“Go ahead.”

“Are your parents artistic at all?”

“Somewhat. They both took an art class when they were younger but that's where it starts and ends, though.”

He brought his gaze back to her again.

“That's it,” he breathed out.

“What's it?”

“That's why I feel so close to you. We both have conservative parents.”

She shrugged. “I think that's one reason, anyways,” she corrected him.

“I ought to introduce you to Ronnie James Dio at some point,” he suggested. “The current singer for Black Sabbath and a good friend of mine. He would like you because he was kind of the same background as me. Of Italian descent and from upstate New York—Cortland, to be exact. Just due south of me.”

“I like his name,” Sam remarked.

“Like—oh, mios dio! Or something like that.”

“Right!” she laughed.

“Well, the band I played in before I joined in Anthrax, Bible Black, consisted of guys from Rainbow and Elf, two bands Ronnie played in before Sabbath picked him up after Ozzy. I sang in Bible Black for a bit and then I went to Anthrax and they split.”

“Aw—I was just gonna say, I'd love to see a Bible Black show with Joey Belladonna at the helm.”

“It was back when I went strictly by Joey Bellardini, too, so be careful with that deadly nightshade bastardizing.” That brought another laugh out of her, and then Joey led her to the street corner up ahead.

They reached the gutter and the pavement, and Sam spotted a tailor shop across the street. Even though the big front windows were both dark with the remnants of nightfall, the mannequins in the front window made her think of those wooden mannequins for poses in drawing. It was a tailor shop, too, as in “Marla Taylor.” Joey glanced either way over the street, and then he looked down at her.

“Which you wanna go?” he asked her.

“Let's go down this way,” she pointed down the sidewalk to his left. “It's towards the water.”

He ran his fingers through his black curls once again and he scratched his head as the two of them walked side by side along the edge of the street. She kept her eye fixed on the tailor shop across the pavement, and she thought about all the possible poses she could do with them. There was that painting she made of him before, and then there was that old idea she had had upon the first day of school: a stained glass piece of Joey himself. She never realized that there was so much that she wanted to do for herself until that very glance into the shop windows.

“I need to draw you again,” she confessed to him in a low voice, which took him aback.

“What medium this time around?” he asked her.

“What would you like?”

“Well, what do you charge?”

She stopped right in her tracks.

“What do you mean?” she asked him.

“What do you charge? I wanna pay you.”

“What for?”

“'Cause you're a damn well and good artist, Sam. I feel like you should get paid to do this.”

“Joey—”

“No, I mean it,” he insisted. “I wanna charge you for a drawing of you. It's only fair to you. You're an art student, for god's sake.”

“I'm aware of that, y'know,” she teased him.

“But I'm serious, though. I don't wanna see a piece of art from you that's about me unless I can give you your money's worth.”

And then she realized he was being completely serious.

“You know, I have the very first penny I made taped to my bedroom wall,” he continued.

“Do you really?”

“Oh, yeah. I was proud of that penny so I put a piece'a clear tape over it to keep it right in its place. That's my penny and there ain't no one getting it. The other reason why I have it there is 'cause it was minted in 1960, the year I was born. I made a promise to myself that I would keep it up there 'til I was sixty.”

“You really think you're going to keep that penny in its place until 2020?”

“I know for sure I will,” he promised her. “Things you're personally proud of last forever.” He flashed her a wink and then he kept on walking down the sidewalk towards the waters up ahead. Sam shook her head about and she rubbed her eyes. If only she had a little more time to think about things, but that time was all she had.

“You know that song that we—Anthrax—do called 'Medusa'?” he piped up again.

“Vaguely, yeah.”

“Another band I played in was called Medusa, and there was another one called Megaforce, and before you ask, it was some time before the label came to be. Those two bands, I drummed in. In fact, I'll tell you what.”

“What's that?”

“When we get back to upstate after this tour—whenever that'll be, I'll have to ask Danny if and when we see him later on—I'll show you some drum grooves. But under one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“You give me a price for a piece of art. Some time between now and the last date of the tour, whenever that is.”

“I'll do it—” Sam extended her pinky finger, and he turned towards her with his pinky finger extended as well. Not just her friend anymore but her business partner and her first real customer as well. The thought of making a bit of money off of a piece of art made her heart flutter a bit.

Soon they reached the end of the street and they were met with the sight of a stretch of grass before them as well as a dark patch and a slight wall of white noise. The ocean hung right there before them under the milky pink sunrise.

“Red sun at night, sailor's delight,” Joey declared. “Red sun at morning, sailors take warning. I think that's how it goes.” “I think you're right,” Sam assured him. “Little soon for hurricanes, don't you think?”

“No way,” he said. “Wait 'til you experience your first Nor'easter in the winter time. We get hurricanes just like how the South does, except ours are freezing and a lot more merciless.”

The two of them stopped at the corner once more and they glanced both ways about the deserted street. Joey then put his arm around her, even though she lingered a bit away from his otherwise sweaty body. She was a little sweaty herself but not as intense as him.

They reached the patch of grass on the other side of the street, and Sam could smell the salt and the seaweed even from there. Joey took a step forward and he peeled off his shirt: his brown skin had a bit of a sheen to it, which the milky light from the sunrise only added to. Sam stood still as he slung his shirt over his shoulder and rubbed his hands together.

“I ought to run like hell right now and really show you what I'm made of,” he suggested.

“You sure you want to do that?” She raised an eyebrow and tucked her thumbs into her shorts pockets. He had just woken up from a night full of drinking and thus she was wary of his knees as they quivered a bit in the morning breeze. Add to this, he had barely eaten anything except for a couple of potato chips before he fell asleep there in the dressing room.

“Positive,” he told her. “You even said it yourself—you want to protect me from the bad things in life, so I better help out.”

He tossed the shirt off to the side, right next to her feet, and he darted towards the other side of the grass. It was just like how things were at the hockey rink, except he had broken into a full rain over the dewy grass towards a line of low trees there on the far side. His black curls sailed behind his head and he kept his body low to the ground. In the dim light, she saw him reach the trees, and then he pirouetted before one and he sprinted right back to her.

He skidded to a stop right in front of her: his chest heaved from the feeling of adrenaline throughout his little body, but he showed her a grin in response.

“Wish I had a stop watch,” she said.

“Hang on—here—” He stuck his fingers underneath the band of his watch and he slid it off of his wrist. He handed it to her right as his breathing calmed down.

She held the watch closer to her face so she could better read the second hand. Joey crouched down to the grass next to her with his hands pressed down: he held one knee closer to his chest.

“Hang on a second,” he spoke out of the blue.

“What?”

“Sump'n's missin'.” He stood up and he gazed on at her.

“What?”

“Seeing as it's just us here...”

She shook her head at the sight of the twinkle in his brown eyes. “No, Joey. Not outside.”

“What? I just want you to take your shirt off.”

“Why do you want me to take my shirt off?”

“First off, you got to see me without my shirt on—shit, you saw me naked. Twice! So I wanna see you now. Plus it'd make things more sporty here. You bein' down to your bra and whatnot. Yeah, you're not wearin' a sports bra, but we gotta make do with what we've got.”

“But you want me to be comfortable, though,” she recalled with a wag of her finger.

“Of course. But don't you wanna get out of that shirt, though? Remember the Stormtroopers of Death tour? Remember how miserable you were?”

“How could I forget? And yeah, I am a little hot.”

“I want you comfortable, but I also realize how you feel about yourself, too—why I pointed out that it's just us right now.”

Sam sighed through her nose, and then with one hand, she peeled off her top and showed off her bare skin and her beige brassiere to him. Joey nodded his head at her as she slung her top over her shoulder. She held the watch closer up to her face once again and she raised a finger. He crouched down onto the grass once again.

“Alright, Joey, you ready?” she announced to him.

“Ready when you are.”

“Go!”

He darted towards the trees again: even in the darkness, and with every occasional glance up from the watch's ivory white face, she could make sight of his legs pumping hard. He was indeed a fast runner: all those years of playing hockey and sporadic drumming gave him strong astute legs, even if they were rather thin and sleek in build. His black curls were the only things that made him resemble to a ghost as he ran along the grass. He flashed her a devilish grin as he pirouetted once more in front of her and sprinted back towards the trees.

By the fourth lap, his breathing quickened up and his chest heaved more, but he persisted. He ran four more laps before he finally staggered to a halt right in front of her.

“Okay—” he stammered as he almost lost his balance right next to her. “Okay, that's—that's enough—time?”

“Four and a half minutes exactly!” she proclaimed.

“Shit, that's a record for me!” he panted: his voice broke to where he coughed. He patted his chest and then he rested his hands on his knees. His black curls dangled all about his head, and his chest and his back heaved from the intense amount of running.

“You okay?” she asked him as she stooped down next to him.

“Yeah—it's just—” he choked out in between breaths. “—it's just—like I said—that's a record. The last time I ran like hell like that—it was almost—five minutes.”

“Wow! And how long ago was that?”

He stopped, and then he swallowed.

“'Bout five years ago, I think?” he sputtered.

She gaped at him. And he lifted himself upright and let out a loud groan. He then set his hands upon the crown of his head. In the first rays of rosy light from the sunrise, she noticed the slight sheen of sweat about his forehead, his neck, and his shoulders. He barely broke a sweat!

“I have an idea now,” he said, still out of breath.

“What's that?” She handed the watch back to him.

“If I ever do get to play drums again, I want to do it for as long as I can. And I mean for as long as I possibly can. I mean like a few hours rather than for thirty minutes like what Anthrax and Testament do. So to play like the length of an orchestra basically.”

“I imagine that being kind of tough, to be honest,” she confessed.

“Doesn't have to be,” he pointed out as he slung the watch onto his fingers but he never put it back onto his wrist. He continued to huff and puff from the sprints. She thought about Alex right then: maybe Joey was lazy with the whole music business, but the Joey she just saw there was anything but lazy. She wanted him to see that Joey for himself.

“Wanna head on back up there?” he offered her as he picked up his shirt from the grass: the dew had left some wet spots on it and thus he slung it over his shoulder.

“Sure.”

“It's still early, so I'd keep that top off if I were you.”

“I dunno, Joey.”

“What? You're a doll and a half, Sam I am. Look at you! All curvy and womanly. I like it, you know.”

He patted her on the shoulder and then he walked on to the street.

“You ever work out real hard like that,” he started again, “and you get this weird, almost hollow feeling in your chest?”

“Not in a long time, but yeah, like something kicked up in your lungs a bit?” she followed along.

“Yeah—got that feelin' right now.” He cleared his throat once they reached the dark pavement. The street lamps began to switch off for the new round of daylight, which meant they in fact needed to hustle along back to the venue to meet up with Marla once again.

“So where's your hotel?” he asked her at one point, and she caught up with him so they walked side by side back up to the corner. She stopped right there so he could see where she pointed up to.

“It's actually right up the block here. Given it's just us, if we see them, we'll know it's them—”

Indeed, once the words left her lips, a small beige car up the block turned out from the hotel driveway. Joey raised his hand and waved at the car, which flashed its lights at them.

“Yeah, that's totally them,” he remarked. “Suddenly I'm hungry.”

“I am, too. Boston you said?”

“Two dates in Boston, yes!”

The car behind them turned the corner and rolled up to the curb ahead. They walked on a bit more until she recognized that alleyway: she also recognized Marla's head of shiny hair in the passenger seat, still iridescent after a few months. She rolled down the window for a good morning.

“There they are!” she declared.

“Didn't know Rocky Horror was playing this early in the year,” Dan called from the driver's seat next to her, and the three of them burst out laughing at that.

“Sam would be in fishnets and Joey would be wearing lace, though,” Marla pointed out. She then returned to them.

“Just did a bit of early morning running,” Sam gestured to Joey.

“That'll wake you up,” Marla declared with a raise of her eyebrows. “You guys wanna grab a cup of coffee, though? What's the next stop again, Boston?”

“Two dates in Boston,” Joey corrected her.

“Yeah, two days,” Dan chimed in. “It's gonna be just a little bit of a trip, but it's gonna be something, though, so you guys better hold onto your butts.”

“Well, at least let Joey and me grab our snacks from last night, though,” said Sam.

“Of course,” Marla encouraged her. “I have to catch the next bus ride back to the Big Apple in a few minutes, though, so make it quick.”

“You're not coming with us, Marla?” Sam inquiringly asked.

“I'll be at the New York City show with Bel and Aurora, but you know—I have to find a place, though. And Bel isn't home, either, and Genie gets lonely, too. Anyways—chop chop.”

Sam and Joey retreated back down the alleyway for their things, and then they headed back to the car that awaited them at the curb. The two of them took to the back seat: it was only for a couple of blocks to the bus stop, but Sam and Marla still embraced each other once they got out together.

“I'll call you when we get there,” Sam vowed with her chin upon her shoulder.

“I'll be waiting for you, too,” Marla whispered to her.

To think it wasn't that long ago in which Sam actually didn't like Marla. She hoped that Joey would have the same change of heart towards Alex at some point, and vice versa.

#fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 10 #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #a skeleton in the closet #book three #anthrax #anthrax fanfic #joey belladonna #dan spitz #ocs #oc tag #also on ao3 #also on wattpad #writing #text

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the-regal-warrior · 4 years

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Cadre Weaponry: The Fights

I promised you guys new Cadre Weaponry content, and here it is! So the following scenes take place during the original chapters of the story, but they’re all put here in chronological order for you!

I had so much fun returning to this universe, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

Summary: Welcome to Cadre Weaponry - the shop for all your weapons needs, both antique and modern! Join the boys of the Cadre as they become friends and tackle this thing we call life. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll even find love along the way.

We all know our boys in the Cadre found their happily-ever-afters, but it wasn’t always smooth sailing. Here’s a look at the fights that almost cost our beloved boys everything.

Warnings: I’m pretty sure it’s just language in this one.

FOUR YEARS, TWO MONTHS, AND SIXTEEN DAYS AGO

Rowan woke to the feeling of nails scraping down his back, Aelin tossing and turning in bed behind him. Rolling over, he took in the tears tracking down her cheeks and the little whimpers she was making in her sleep - another nightmare. Though they’d only been together for seven months, he’d learned that her sleep was plagued by her past traumas - whatever they were.

That wasn’t a conversation they’d had yet.

Just as he went to reach for her, she shot into a sitting position, a heart-wrenching shriek tearing from her throat. The motion had been violent enough that she woke herself up, her shout cutting short as she realized where she was.

“Aelin?” he questioned tentatively, reaching out to push a strand of hair behind her ear as he sat up next to her.

She flinched at the contact, whipping her head around to face him. His stomach clenched at the broken expression on her face. “I’m sorry,” she said, though her voice was shaky, and she barely managed to get both words out before she was sobbing.

“Oh, my love, come here,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into him. She buried her face in his neck, her tears warm against the skin of his neck. He tangled one hand in her golden hair, the other rubbing over her spine as he rocked them back and forth. “It’s going to be okay, love,” he murmured, pressing soothing kisses to her hair. “You’re safe, baby, you’re safe. I’ve got you, Fireheart. I’m right here.”

He continued rocking her and whispering quietly in her ear, and though it took her a few minutes to calm down, she eventually fell asleep with her head on his chest. He pressed one final kiss to her forehead as he pulled the blankets closer around them. Dropping his head onto his pillow, he felt the lull of sleep coming to claim him in only a matter of seconds.

Before he fell back into his dreams, he told himself that he’d ask Aelin about her nightmares in the morning.

~*^*~

Walking out of the bathroom, Rowan chuckled at the way Aelin’s eyes immediately flickered to the towel wrapped around his waist. She was lounging on her bed in nothing but an emerald green silk nightgown. The way she was reclined on the pillows had the lace at the bottom of the very short nightgown playing hide and seek with her thighs, and Rowan couldn’t keep his eyes from drinking her in.

She smirked at him, and he dropped the towel. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the way her eyes widened. “See something you like, Fireheart?”

“You could say that,” she replied, voice husky from sleep. Her eyes never left him, even as he got dressed for his day at work. “Though I preferred when you didn’t have all those layers on.”

He laughed, dropping next to her as he pulled a t-shirt over his head. “Sorry, but some of us have to go to work early this morning.”

“I know,” she sighed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. “And some of us get to stay in bed for another hour.”

Rowan flicked her nose, though he sobered up when he remembered her nightmare from the night before. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, love. Anything you want.”

“Even if I want to know what your nightmares are about?” He watched her expression as he asked, and his heart stopped when her features closed off. “It’s just,” he added, hoping that she wouldn’t shut down the conversation like she always did, “they seem like they’re really bad, and I’m just trying to understand why. I just want to help.”

Aelin sighed again, though this one had none of the playfulness of the first, and she refused to meet his eyes. “It’s nothing, Ro. They’re just stupid dreams.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stood up and stalked to her desk. “Stupid dreams don’t leave you sobbing in the middle of the night, Aelin. Nightmares do. And I’d say they’d have to be pretty traumatic ones, too. So, what is it? What are you keeping from me?”

“Rowan, I already told you, it’s nothing. Okay? It’s nothing.” He’d grabbed his phone and wallet from her desk by the time she’d stopped speaking, and he was halfway to her door before she protested. “Rowan, where are you going? Don’t just walk away from me! Talk to me - why are you so upset about this?.”

“Oh, you want me to talk? You don’t like it when I don’t tell you things?” He was practically snarling, and he watched the fire grew in his girlfriend’s eyes. “Now you know how I feel.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” she spat.

“It means you’re always keeping secrets. It took you months to tell me that you and Chaol had dated, even though I don’t care that you’re friends with your ex, and I practically had to pry any information about Sam out of you.” He decided to ignore the fact that she’d only told him about that within the last month. She’d dated Sam Cortland all through high school, and they thought they’d last despite getting into universities on opposite sides of the continent. Meeting Chaol as a freshman had made her rethink her relationship with Sam, and it had destroyed her to end things with him. They’d ultimately agreed they were better off as friends, and remained so even now, but it had been hard on both of them. “I hardly know anything about your past because you won’t tell me. I’m so tired of the secrets, Aelin.” He was at the door, and the look she gave him when she saw his hand resting on the handle was a mix of anger and fear. “Look, I want to be with you, but I can’t handle all the secrets. I just can’t.”

“Rowan,” she huffed, “I just -.”

“No, Aelin. I don’t want excuses. I want the truth. But I don’t have the time to wait for you to give me it.” He pulled the door open. “I’m late for work.”

She tried to protest, but he’d slammed the door before she could get the words out. He stalked out of her apartment, his heart breaking as a big part of it stayed in the room with the woman behind him.

~*^*~

It had been a long day - one of the longest ones he’d had in a while. All Rowan wanted to do was go home and avoid the world for a while, but he knew he couldn’t. Fighting with Aelin wasn’t something he enjoyed, and he knew they needed to talk about this.

Aelin seemed to know it too, since she’d texted him and asked him to come over after work.

So that’s what he did. Even though they hadn’t been together all that long, he knew he loved her. So he parked his Bronco and climbed out, not sure what he was walking into.

When he knocked on her front door, he heard muffled cursing from the direction of the kitchen before she shouted that it was open and he could let himself in. He did, and was immediately greeted with the smell of food and the sight of his girlfriend swearing at something on the stove.

“Everything okay in here?” he questioned.

She just groaned and switched off the burner, pulling the frying pan onto a cool one. “Not exactly. I wanted to do something to apologize for this morning but nothing is working.” She must have caught the knowing look he was giving her, because she gave him a stern look. “And before you make any smart comments, just know I’m making you breakfast for dinner.”

He couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped him. Anyone who knew Aelin knew that, though she had many talents, cooking wasn’t one of them. She could usually manage breakfast food, but even that didn’t always work.

“Don’t laugh!” she cried, tossing the hand towel at him. “I really wanted this to be perfect because I’m so sorry about what happened. But the waffle batter didn’t mix right, the knob on the toaster broke so the toast burned, and the eggs are all rubbery!” She had tears lining her eyes, and he could see how frustrated she was. “I just - I was going to feed you and then explain my nightmares in this grand gesture because I hate fighting and I don’t want to lose you!”

“Fireheart,” he murmured, “come here.” Taking her into his arms, he stared into her eyes. “I love that you wanted to do this for me, but I’m the one who should be apologizing. Your past is yours, and I shouldn’t have pushed you to share it if you weren’t ready. I just want to help, but I want you to tell me because you want to, not because I’m a pushy buzzard.”

She laughed a little shakily, leaning her face into his palm when he wiped her tears away. “Well, you can be pushy, buzzard. But I want to share this - this very painful, very ugly part of my past - with you.”

His heart fluttered against his ribcage, hard enough that Aelin could probably hear it, and he smiled at her. “I’m honored, my love.”

She leaned up to kiss him once, twice, three times before taking his hand and pulling him toward the couch. As soon as he was sitting she crawled into his lap, legs stretched out and their hands tangled in her lap. “I don’t talk about this because it’s still painful, but I want you to know.”

Rowan watched her as she started talking, and he saw the way she rolled her shoulders as she settled into what she had to say. “I’m with you, Fireheart. To whatever end.”

Aelin nodded and offered him a small smile before the story spilled over her lips. “Okay, so I know I told you my dad was in the military, but that wasn’t all of it. He was actually in a very secret, very high-level branch of the army, and he was part of quite a few covert operations. Naturally, that meant he made some enemies - enemies who kept track of him even after he retired from the army and opened the business with my mom.” She paused to take a breath, and Rowan knew that the hard part of the story was coming.

He rubbed his thumbs along her thighs, and she seemed to draw comfort from the gesture. “One day, when I was visiting my parents at their office building, three guys came in with guns. I just thought it was a robbery, but they were actually some guys in a rebel gang that my dad had busted when he was in the army. I guess they knew I was there, because one of them grabbed me. I was sixteen and my dad had taught me how to fight when I was little, so that’s what I tried to do. The guy didn’t appreciate that - so he threw me into decorative mirror hanging in the lobby. I know you’ve seen the scars on my back. That’s what they’re from.”

“Holy rutting gods,” Rowan whispered, feeling his eyes widen in shock.

“Yeah, basically. And that was the exact moment my dad happened to walk in the room. He tried to get to me, so one of the other guys grabbed me and held a knife to my throat. That’s when the third one gave me that long scar that slashes across my back - he cut me with a knife because he knew my dad was watching. I was so terrified, and I was just bleeding from so many different wounds, and I just wanted my parents. The next thing I knew, there were gunshots echoing around me and I was covered in even more blood. Apparently my dad had pretty tight security, because he had three snipers take out the guys that broke in simultaneously.” She rubbed her eyes, shoulders slumping as she let out a deep breath. “And that’s what I have nightmares about.”

Rowan wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest as her head fell into his neck. “My love, I had no idea. Thank you so much for trusting me enough to share this with me.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lips lingering against her skin when he said, “although now I feel even worse that I freaked out when you wouldn’t tell me about this.”

“Oh, Rowan, no,” she cried, taking his face between her hands so he had no choice but to look into her beautiful eyes. “No, don’t feel bad about this for a second. I never shared it with you because I hate remembering how weak I was and I always thought sharing it would make me feel worse about the whole thing, but that’s not true. I feel so much better now that I’ve opened up about it - almost like I reclaimed the part of myself that was scared of it and it made me feel stronger.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help out,” he replied, nipping at her thumb when she ran it along his bottom lip. “I wish I could do more, though.”

“Buzzard, you’ve already done so much,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “The fact that you’re here means more to me than anything else could.”

Rowan kissed her, a claiming kiss that was filled with his love and affection for the amazing woman in his arms. “You, my strong, brave girlfriend, are so absolutely amazing. Did you know that?”

“Yeah, well, your amazing girlfriend couldn’t even make you dinner like she wanted to.” Aelin giggled against his lips, breaking away only when he pinched her sides and she had to gasp for air as he tickled her. “How about we order takeout instead?”

“Absolutely not,” Rowan stated. He shooed Aelin off his lap and pushed her in the direction of her kitchen. “We’re going to make breakfast for dinner, just like you wanted to. We’re going to do this together, Fireheart.”

“That sounds perfect, buzzard.”

THREE YEARS, ONE MONTH, AND EIGHT DAYS AGO

Fenrys reached out and grabbed Asterin around the waist, hauling her back against his chest. She shrieked in surprise, although it quickly turned to laughter as she twisted in his embrace, her arms coming to twine around his neck.

He laughed along with her, his heart soaring as he took in the sheer happiness on her face. “Hi,” he whispered, pressing the barest hint of a kiss against her lips.

“Hi,” she murmured back, smiling when he pulled away. Rocking up on her toes, she kissed the tip of his nose. When he laughed, a deep chuckle that bubbled out of his throat, she pressed a kiss to his lips, her teeth catching on the bottom one as she pulled back.

Groaning at the sensation, Fenrys slid his hands from her waist to her thighs, squeezing her ass once, twice in the process. Lifting her into his arms, he started walking as soon as her legs had locked around his waist.

Asterin moaned at the feeling of being pressed against him, and he delighted at the pure need in the sound. With the way she was wrapped around him, he found himself panting with every step he took. She had started kissing him, her tongue twisting around his, by the time he reached the couch, though it was short-lived.

He practically threw himself onto the couch, and Asterin broke their kiss to squeal at the suddenness of the motion. She was giggling in the next second, Fen’s own chuckles ringing through the air to join hers.

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughed, one hand playing with a strand of his hair while she traced random patterns on his chest with the other. “And yet I love you.”

“And yet you love me,” he confirmed, “just as I love you.” She blushed at that, and his heart swelled with pride. “I love how, even after you’ve agreed to marry me, hearing that I love you still makes you blush.”

She grinned at that, though something about the expression didn’t look quite right. With a start, Fen realized that it didn’t reach her eyes. In fact, there were tears building in her eyes.

“Rin,” he started, reaching up to wipe a thumb under her eyes, “what’s wrong, love?”

“I just…” she sniffed, taking a breath to get her voice under control. “I just don’t understand why you love me.”

He could feel his jaw fall to the floor, could feel that he was staring at her with a confused expression, but there was nothing he could do to stop it as shock coursed through his system. “What?” he finally spluttered.

Tears were streaming down her face as she pushed off his lap. Stumbling back two steps, she sank down on the coffee table. “I’ve been thinking on this for a while, and I can’t understand it. I don’t see how you can love me when I’ll never be enough for you.”

“Asterin, what -,” Fenrys tried to protest, but she cut him off.

“Fen, please, just don’t.” She stood up, and he felt his heart breaking with every step she took toward his door. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I can’t be with you when I know I’ll never be enough. I’m not good for you, Fenrys - I’ll only let you down.” She stared at him for a moment and then she was gone, the door slamming behind her.

Fenrys felt his heart shatter when that door closed. He stared at it for a couple minutes, unable to comprehend what had happened.

When he finally got his wits about him, he knew there was only one thing he could do.

Barely taking the time to grab his keys and lock the door, he was sprinting down the stairs.

~*^*~

Resting his elbows on his knees, Fenrys dropped his head in his hands, the wood of Asterin’s door cool against his flushed skin, even through his t-shirt. He’d sprinted the five blocks to her apartment, praying he’d still manage to beat her there even after his five-minute stupor.

He’d sighed in relief when he didn’t see her car in the lot, but it quickly faded when he realized it was because he’d been right - she’d most likely had a breakdown in her car that had kept her from leaving right away.

He’d been sitting by her door for at least five minutes and he could feel himself getting anxious. He didn’t know what had caused her outburst, but he needed to get to the bottom of it. He couldn’t lose her. He just couldn’t.

He’d just dropped his head back against the door when he heard footsteps rounding the corner. Lifting his head just as she took notice of him, he watched fresh tears slide down her cheeks. He jumped to his feet as she gaped at him.

“What are you doing here?” she gasped, the tears making her voice thick.

“Fighting for the love of my life.” He watched her sob harder at his words, and he reached a hand out to her. “Please, baby - talk to me. Please. I can’t - I can’t lose you. So, please just talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. Please.” Fenrys was crying by the time he’d finished speaking. He loved this woman more than anything in the world and he couldn’t stand to see her so upset.

She mulled it over for several moments - he could practically see the gears turning in her head - before finally nodding and motioning for him to move so she could open the door.

Fenrys followed her inside, scrubbing the backs of his hands over his cheeks in an attempt to brush away some of his lingering tears.

“Okay, Fen,” Asterin sighed, slumping into her oversized recliner. “What do you want to talk about?”

He sat on the coffee table, caging her legs between his own. “I want to know what’s gotten into you. Why don’t you think you’re enough for me, or that you’ll just let me down?”

Watching the tears build in her eyes again at the question, he struggled not to reach out and take her in his arms. Asterin swallowed before finally answering him. “Because of my ex.”

She’d started crying as she said it, and Fenrys rested a hand on her knee to show her that he was there. He knew she’d had a relationship - a long one - that hadn’t ended well, but he’d never pushed her on it. He knew she’d talk when she was ready.

“I know we’ve talked about how I had a pretty bad break-up - that’s where this is coming from.” She dropped her hand on top of the one he had on her knee, her eyes fixed on her engagement ring. “I really thought he and I would be together forever. I was expecting a proposal - what I got was a broken heart. He came home one day and told me that we were done because he could never love me. He said that I was a disappointment and that I’d let him down - he said that I could never be enough for him.”

Asterin was openly sobbing by the end, and Fen climbed into the recliner next to her, pulling her into his lap as he did. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

She cried into his chest, one hand fisted in his shirt. ‘He told me I was just a mistake, and I don’t want to be your mistake too, Fen. It would kill me.”

Burying his face in her hair, Fenrys let her cry until she didn’t have any tears left. It killed him to see her like this, and he needed her to know that he was always going to be there for her.

Once she’d calmed down, Fenrys lifted her chin until her eyes met his. He slipped his fingers over her jaw so he could cup her cheek, and she pressed a quick kiss to his palm before meeting his eyes once more. “Asterin, I want you to listen to me, okay?”

She nodded, and he kissed her forehead.

“I love you, Asterin Blackbeak. Okay? I love you. You are, without a doubt, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You could never let me down or disappoint me. I’m so proud of you every day. Every single day. You, my love, are so much more than enough for me - you always will be. You will never be a mistake - never. The only mistake would be not spending the rest of my life with you. Okay, my love?”

“Okay,” she whispered, a small smile on her face even though tears still sparkled in her eyes. “Gods, Fen, I love you so much. I”m sorry for all of this.”

“You don’t ever have to apologize for the way you feel, baby.” Fenrys pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Just, in the future, promise that you’ll come to me when you feel this way, instead of keeping it all inside?”

“Okay, I promise, Fen. I promise.” Asterin leaned up to kiss him, and he pulled her closer. When she pulled away, he was relieved to see that she was smiling - though the giggles that accompanied it were a little concerning.

“Something funny to you, Rin?”

“No,” she giggled, kissing his jaw. “I just can’t believe how lucky I got when I met you.”

Grinning down at her, he kissed her temple. “I’m the lucky one.”

TWO YEARS, SEVEN MONTHS, AND TWENTY DAYS AGO

Vaughan groaned as he threw himself down on Sorrel’s bed, her laughter echoing around him as he landed with his face pressed against her stomach. He chuckled against her skin, the cropped t-shirt she was wearing baring her smooth skin to him. Breathing in her scent, he enjoyed being able to just take the time to be with her.

Carding her fingers through his hair, Sorrel began humming, and he lost himself in the rambling melody. He was grateful for her - whatever she was to him, as they’d never defined it, never put a label on it - and moments like this reminded him why.

He lifted his head just as her tune came to an end, the last note hanging in the air between them. Grinning at the peaceful expression on her face, he rolled until he was next to her, their hands laced between them.

“You’ll never guess what happened today,” Sorrel said, her thumb trailing over the back of his hand.

Turning his head to look at her, he raised one eyebrow, causing her to giggle. “You’re right, I probably won’t. What happened, babe?”

“Well, I was at Crochan Antiques to visit Bronwen,” she started, “and Una - one of the girls who works for her - was talking about you.”

She cut herself off, and Vaughan prodded her in the shin with his foot. “And?”

“And, well, she kind of called you my boyfriend.”

He could see her lips moving, could hear the sounds coming from them, but he stopped processing what they meant. Sitting up abruptly enough that he yanked his hand from hers as emotions swirled in his head, he felt his face twist into something angry.

“But I’m not.” Vaughan interrupted whatever she’d been saying, the words practically ripping out of his throat.

She sat up, a confused expression on her face. He realized he’s spoken too quickly for her to understand.

“I’m not your boyfriend,” he growled.

“Vaughan, I know that, but -.”

“I’m not your boyfriend,” he repeated, “and you’re not my girlfriend. We aren’t a couple.”

Sorrel only stared at him, almost like she didn’t understand why he was so upset, and that made him angrier.

“I told you when we started this that I didn’t want a relationship, couldn’t be in one. I told you this would just be sex, nothing else. I thought you understood that. Clearly I was wrong.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she cried, reaching out to poke him in the chest. “Of course I understand what this is, what we are!”

He snorted derisively, shoving away her hand. “Yeah? And yet you let all your friends call me your boyfriend?”

“No, Vaughan, if you would just listen to me -.”

He was standing before she could get any further. “No,” he spat, backing toward her bedroom door, “I’m done listening. I really thought you were different, but you’re not. You’re just like every other girl I’ve been with - you say you can handle sex without a relationship and then you can’t. You’re just another disappointment.” He could see the confusion on her face fade as it was replaced by anger and hurt, and he knew that it would bother him when he thought on it when he got home, but he couldn’t keep the words in.

Her bedroom door slamming behind him, Vaughan squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the pressure of tears building. He left her apartment, his thoughts whirling.

He’d always avoided relationships and commitments, too afraid of the pain they could bring. He was terrified of letting himself get that close to someone and then having them walk way. He knew he was protecting himself, but losing Sorrel was gutting him in a way he didn’t expect.

Vaughan felt the tears he’d been trying to keep at bay start spilling down his cheeks as he reached the elevator, but he never got the chance to wipe them away. Just as he lifted his hand, someone slammed into him from behind.

Stumbling forward a couple steps before he managed to regain his balance, he turned his head just enough to see dark hair tangled with his own, meaning that the person currently clinging to his back was Sorrel.

“Sorrel, what the hell?” he spluttered, trying to pry her arms from his neck.

Sighing at him, she jumped off his back, smacking the back of his head before he could turn to face her. “Okay, asshole, I’m going to talk now, and you’re just going to listen. Got it?”

He just nodded, the anger flashing in her eyes enough to keep him from saying a word.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, calling me a disappointment after two years?” She was practically shouting, but he couldn’t blame her. “We’ve been sleeping together for almost two years, and you call me a disappointment because someone else thought we were dating? That’s not fair, and you know it. I happen to like the arrangement we have, and I wouldn’t do anything to change it. Have I ever given you a reason to think otherwise?”

“No, you haven’t,” he answered, guilt rushing through him at the thought of all the things he’d said to her, “and I’m so sorry I said what I did. You’re not a disappointment - you never could be. I’ve been burned before by girls who said they were okay with this when they really weren’t. I didn’t want that to happen here and I overreacted. And I’m so incredibly sorry.”

“Vaughan,” she sighed, though she sounded less angry. “Did any of those other girls ever stay for two years?”

He shook his head, and was relieved to hear her chuckle a little in response.

“That’s what I thought,” she muttered, reaching out to cup his cheek. He heard her gasp when she saw the tears still shining in his eyes, and she swiped some from his lashes with her thumb. “Babe, are you crying?”

“Well, yeah,” he mumbled, a blush rising to his cheeks when she kissed his chin. “You’re important to me, Sorrel, and the thought of losing you hurts.”

She nipped his chin when he finished, glaring up into his eyes even as she looped her arms around his waist. “If you wouldn’t have been such a dick, you wouldn’t have needed to put yourself through all of this.”

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed his lips to her forehead, his words muffled against her skin. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry - how can I make this up to you?”

Sorrel winked at him as her hands slid down to grip his ass. “I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

Groaning at the feeling of her hands, he lifted her into his arms and sprinted for her door, her laughter ringing through the hall.

TWO YEARS, FIVE MONTHS, AND TWELVE DAYS AGO

Lorcan pressed a kiss to Elide’s hair, smiling down at the top of her head when she made a contented noise in the back of her throat. His girlfriend just tucked herself tighter against his chest, her fingers skimming over his hand where it rested on her waist.

Squeezing her waist affectionately, he turned his gaze back to the movie they’d been watching, though his focus was still on the woman in his arms. Elide had brought so much joy to his life - a life he had been convinced he was going to spend alone. Though not all of his past relationships - if he could even call them that - had been bad, most had been. Figuring that he was just wired to make relationships fail, he’d resigned himself to being alone.

And then Elide had quite literally walked into his life.

She was everything he never knew he needed, everything he’d never dared to wish for. He felt so lucky - so incredibly blessed - to have found her, and even the thought of losing her caused him a sort of pain that left him breathless.

Blinking to clear his mind, Lorcan dropped his chin to rest on her head, losing himself in the movie as Elide pressed back into his embrace.

It wasn’t even five minutes later that his phone began to ring. Not taking his eyes from the screen, he fumbled for it, answering the call without looking to see who it was.

The voice on the other end turned the blood in his veins to ice.

“Lorcan,” Maeve purred in his ear. “I need a favor, sweetie.”

He felt Elide turn to look at him, probably because she’d felt they way he’d tensed beneath her.

“Isn’t that what Cairn’s for?” he retorted, not bothering to mask the anger in his voice.

It figured that just as he’d been thinking about his past girlfriends, the worst of them would call. He and Maeve had fucked around - he wouldn’t call it a relationship because they’d never really cared for one another - for two years soon after he’d graduated college. At the time, Lorcan really believed that he loved her, but all that changed when the truth came out and their relationship ended.

It turned out that the entire time they’d been together, she’d been sleeping with Cairn, a man she’d always claimed was just her best friend. That revelation had been ugly, and it had left Lorcan gutted.

Despite all of that, Maeve had never truly left his life. Lorcan had always been loyal, and that remained true even after their split. She would often call when she was mad at Cairn, and even though he would swear up and down that each time was the last time, he’d still go.

Maeve let out a low whine, clearly displeased with his hostility. “Cairn doesn’t understand me the way you do. And he wouldn’t understand this - he would think it’s silly.”

Lorcan sighed, his resolve already crumbling. “What do you need?” He felt Elide stiffen at his words, and she brushed away the hand he attempted to rub over her thigh.

“I got a lead in a new show, and I need help with my costume.” He could practically hear the pout in her voice. “I need your help, sweetie.”

He sighed again, even though he was already pushing off the couch. “Fine. But this is the last time.”

She started to reply, but Lorcan hung up before he had to listen to her simpering for another moment.

He turned to face Elide, and she cut him off before he could even try to explain. “You’re really going?”

“I have to, E,” he murmured. “But this is the last time. I promise.”

“That’s what you said you told her the last time.” Elide’s face was full of hurt, and Lorcan hated that he was the cause of it.

“I know, love. But -.”

She cut him off again. “And the time before that.” Elide fixed him with a hard look. “L, you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep running every time she calls.”

“I know,” he repeated.

Elide rolled her eyes. “If you know, then don’t go. Show her that you aren’t bound to her anymore!” There were tears building in her eyes, and when he tried to reach for her, she pushed him away.

“I already said I’d go.”

A sob tore from her throat at that, but she still wouldn’t let him touch her. “Then go, Lorcan.”

“Elide,” he whispered, trying to find the right words.

She never gave him the chance. “Just fucking go. But know that I might not be here when you get back.”

Lorcan could only stare at her - her words had frozen him on the spot. Sensing his confusion, she added, “I won’t stand for this. So if you want to go, fine. But I want you to know that I might not stay if you choose to walk out that door.”

With that, Elide disappeared into his room, tears spilling down her cheeks. The sound of the lock clicking followed him out the front door.

~*^*~

Running his hands through his hair, Lorcan tilted his head back and stared at the crescent moon hanging in the sky. He’d been sitting on the same park bench for at least four hours, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up and go home.

He was petrified that he would open the door and find that Elide was gone.

He hadn’t even made it to his truck before his phone was buzzing in his pocket with a text from Maeve. He opened it to see a picture of Maeve in barely-there pink lingerie and ivory pumps. She’d sent the caption like what you see - it’s the first of many you’ll see tonight along with it.

He’d stopped in his tracks, feeling like the world’s biggest fool for falling for her bullshit again. A stunt like that meant she and Cairn were fighting and she was hoping to make him jealous when he found out Lorcan had been there.

Pinching the bridge of his nose as he’d tried to get his temper under control, he’d growled into the night air. Dialing her number, he’d started speaking the minute she’d answered, his voice cold. “That’s it, Maeve. I’m done playing this game with you. I should have done this years ago, but I’m doing it now. I won’t keep crawling back to you like some lost little boy. I won’t be bound to you anymore. Don’t call me - we’re done.”

She’d tried to protest, but Lorcan hung up before she could. He’d wanted to run back inside the second he’d slipped his phone in his pocket, but he couldn’t face Elide quite yet.

Instead, he’d made for the park the next block over - the same park he’d taken Elide to on their first date - and that’s where he’d stayed.

Still staring up at the moon, Elide filled his thoughts, and he realized just how long he’d been sitting there when he could have been begging for her forgiveness. He’d just practically leapt to his feet when a beat-up Jeep Cherokee came to a stop in front of him.

Lorcan didn’t have to wait for the driver to get out to know it was Elide.

“Lor!” she cried, sprinting around the front to reach him. “Are you okay?”

He blinked, not believing that she was really standing in front of him. “Elide?” he murmured, breath catching in his throat as she came to stop in front of him. “El, baby?”

She stared up at him, confusion flashing across her face as he just continued to stare at her. “Lorcan,” she said firmly, reaching out to grip his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He brushed off the other questions he could see she was desperate to ask with a wave of his hand, reaching out to cup her cheek with the other. “What are you doing here, baby?”

“Well, about thirty minutes after you left,” she started, pulling away from his hand as her face hardened, “I realized I’d never heard your truck leave, and when I saw it was still in the parking lot, I got worried. I tried to call you about thirty minutes ago, but you didn’t answer, so I came looking for you.”

Even though he could tell that she was still furious with him by the tone of her voice and her expression, Lorcan’s heart fluttered in his chest when he realized she’d been worried about him. Then his heart sank when he realized why she was so worried, and the words came pouring out of him. Everything that had happened that night, from the time he’d left his apartment to the moment she’d pulled up in front of him, spilled through his lips without any conscious effort.

“Anyway,” he concluded, his brain finally catching up with his thoughts, “I’m sorry I made you worry, and I’m sorry I didn’t answer your phone. Maeve’s been calling me all night since I told her I was done with her and after the sixth call I just stopped checking.”

Elide gave him a speculative look. “If you told her off four hours ago, why didn’t you just come home? It would have saved me a lot of worrying and you a lot of trouble.”

Sucking a deep breath in through his teeth as he felt tears building behind his eyes, Lorcan found that he couldn’t quite meet her eyes when he said, “I was afraid you wouldn’t be there. Right after I told her what I did, I knew you hadn’t left because I would have seen you, but I just wasn’t ready to face you. And then, the longer I sat on this bench, the more I thought you would be gone when I got home, and I couldn’t face the thought of walking into my apartment and finding that you were gone from my life.”

“Oh, Lorcan,” she sighed, looking like she wanted to say more, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“Elide,” he whispered, finally meeting her eyes as he dropped to his knees in front of her, a single tear spilling out as he took in her hopeful expression before he managed to get them under control. “I am so incredibly sorry for the way I treated you and I what I put you through tonight. I just - Maeve has always had this hold on me, and no matter how hard I tried I could never shake her. Frankly I think it’s because some part of me didn’t want to. At least, not until I had you in my life. Until I thought I might lose you for good, I never realized just how unimportant she was to me. She might have had a hold on me, but you have a hold on my mind, my heart, and my soul. The thought of losing you makes me feel like I’m dying. And I know this doesn’t even begin to make up for it, but I want you to know how sorry I am.”

He’d dropped his head after he finished talking, so he didn’t see when Elide reached out to run her fingers through his hair, though the action was soothing enough that he looked up to meet her eyes once more. “Lorcan,” she murmured, dropping so she was knee-to-knee on the ground with him. “Damn you, love.”

“Erm, why, exactly?”

“Because you make it so hard to be mad at you.” She laughed lightly, but sobered up as she reached out to cup his face. “I know she put you through hell, babe. I know how much of a hold she had on you. I’m sorry that I threatened to leave, but I wanted you to see that you didn’t need her, because I’m always going to be here for you. I wish you would just talk to me about your feelings instead of thinking you have to take on the world alone.”

Lorcan nodded, turning his head to kiss her palm. “I promise I’m going to work on that. I’m going to get better at talking to you and sharing what -.” He cut off as something dawned on him. “Wait, are you saying you forgive me?”

Elide laughed again, although he noticed it was a little watery. “Of course I forgive you, Lor. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” he breathed, the tears he’d been trying to hold back for so long finally sliding down his cheeks as he pulled her into his chest and buried his face in her hair. “So much, El. I love you so much.”

They stayed like that for a while, kneeling on the sidewalk and holding each other tight. Lorcan knew that he was beyond lucky to have Elide, especially after the way he’d acted tonight, and he couldn’t help the way he was sobbing into her hair. He figured she didn’t mind too much, given that he could feel his shirt getting damp as she sobbed against his chest. He wanted nothing more than to never let her go, but he felt the way she began shivering as the cool night air finally started to hit her.

Pulling away enough to meet her gaze, he swiped away the tears under his eyes as he asked, “How about we head back to the apartment, curl up on the couch with a bunch of blankets, and binge-watch something on Netflix - whatever you want?”

She nodded up at him, tears still sliding down her cheeks. “That sounds really nice.” Her tears thickened as she started speaking, and Lorcan wiped them away with his thumbs.

Leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the car, strapping her into the passenger seat. As he climbed into his side, she reached over to tangle their fingers. “Lor?”

“Yeah, love?” he asked, starting her car up and heading for his apartment.

“We still have to talk about this - you know that, right?”

Pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, he made an affirmative noise in his throat. “I know, I know. I was thinking we could do that over dinner tomorrow? I’ll even cook your favorite.”

He glanced over at her, relieved to see that she was smiling. “You’ve got a deal.”

Lorcan nodded, grateful beyond words that Elide was with him and that he hadn’t completely screwed everything up. He knew that, in the future, he would do whatever he needed to do to keep her - his absolutely amazing girlfriend - in his life.

ONE YEAR, EIGHT MONTHS, AND TWENTY-TWO DAYS AGO

Connall threw himself down on the couch in Vesta’s living room, burying his face in his hands as he listened to her angrily throw things around in her room. By the sound of it, she was changing out of the dress she’d been wearing for their date, muffled curses falling from her lips as he heard the thuds of her shoes hitting the floor in her closet.

He was in deep shit, and he knew it.

They’d been together for just over a year now, and he’d learned very early on in their relationship that guys were simply drawn to his girlfriend. He knew she was beautiful beyond compare, and they did, too. She was constantly being hit on no matter where they were, and though she begged him not to be bothered by it, he could never brush it off the way she did.

Tonight had been no different, and Connall had finally had enough. He usually got possessive, pulling her tight against him or kissing her a little inappropriately to show that she was his, but he’d come close to blows with some guy tonight, and Vesta was not happy with him.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, her bedroom swung open and she came barreling through it, eyes narrowed and a scowl on her face. “Connall, what the hell was that back there?”

Though he knew he should just apologize and get it over with, white-hot anger surged through him and he shot to his feet, meeting her halfway across the room. “He practically had his hands all over you, and I’m supposed to just let some guy touch my girl like that?”

“He had one hand on my arm - ONE HAND - and I was in the middle of handling it when you basically threw him across the room!”

Connall huffed at that, stepping forward until he was face-to-face with Vesta, his forehead brushing hers. “He’s lucky that’s all I did.”

“Connall, how many times do we have to have this conversation?” she cried, throwing her hands up in the air as she backed away from him. “I don’t need you to protect me!”

The laughter that poured out of his mouth then was not kind, and the hurt that flickered through her eyes barely registered before his next words were slipping through his lips. “Clearly - since you’re so quick to throw yourself at other guys. I guess I shouldn’t be so quick to protect someone who’s so eager to go.”

Her entire face crumpled. “What?” she whispered, hands falling limply to her sides as she backed away from him.

“You heard me.” Before she could respond, Connall had turned away from her and yanked the front door open. “I think I need some space.”

He heard her calling his name as he walked away, he heard the sobs in her voice, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around.

So he kept walking.

~*^*~

He was more drunk than he’d been in a very long time.

Connall wasn’t sure of much as he staggered out of the bar he’d been sitting in for the last two hours and the only place he’d been since leaving Vesta’s, but that he was completely certain of. He knew he was in no shape to walk home, and he knew he needed to get a ride.

He also knew that he needed to apologize to Vesta, knew he needed to explain what had made him say all those horrible things to the woman who made his entire world better.

And then he needed to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness, because his life would mean nothing without her.

Before he could register what he was doing, his phone was pressed to his ear and his heart was breaking all over again when her voice rumbled through the speakers.

“What the fuck do you want?” Her voice was scratchy, and she sounded like she was sniffling.

“V, babe, I really fucked up.”

“And?”

Connall sucked down a deep breath, desperately trying to clear his mind enough that he could get her to come pick him up. “And I know you’re pissed, and you have every right to be, but I’m fucking wasted and can you please come get me? Please baby?”

He heard some muffled choice words directed at him before she answered him. “Fine. But if you put one hair out of line, you can fucking walk.”

~*^*~

Vesta pulled up in front of the bar, gravel flying as she slammed on the brakes in front of him. The glare she cut his way as he climbed in beside her was icy, though he could see how red her eyes were from crying.

As she pulled out of the parking lot, Connall observed her quietly. Though she refused to look at him, he wasn’t shy as he stared over at her. She was still sniffling quietly, and her hands were shaking as they gripped the steering wheel. She was practically curled in on herself, and it was that thought - the idea that his beautiful, strong girlfriend was broken because of him - that sent him over the edge.

His breathing turned to panicked gasps, and sobs were spilling from his lips before he could even register what was happening. “Vesta,” he gasped, reaching for her and gripping her thigh when she moved her arm out of his reach. “Vesta, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

“Is that all you have to say to me?” Though her voice was cold, it broke on the last word. “That you’re sorry?”

Tears were spilling down his cheeks in earnest now, and he didn’t even care enough to wipe them away. Instead, they curved down over his jaw and dripped onto his jeans, the little wet spots like raindrops against his legs.

“No, baby, that’s not all. I know that’s not enough to make up for what I said - nothing will ever be enough for that. But I need you to know that I’m sorry - I’m so damn sorry - and I didn’t mean any of it. Not one single word.”

“Really?” she cried, tears dripping down her cheeks now. Thankfully, she’d pulled into the spot next to his in front of his apartment, so he wasn’t concerned about her concentrating on the drive. “Because it sounded like you meant it.” Dropping her hands into her lap, Vesta turned to face him, the hurt in her gorgeous eyes gutting him. “You basically said that I’d cheat on you. Do you really think so little of me?”

Reaching for her without even thinking about it, Connall cupped her jaw with one hand, thumb wiping away a single tear when she didn’t flinch away from the touch. “Of course not! You know I think the world of you. It’s myself I don’t think very much of.”

That seemed to catch her off guard. “What?” she whispered, blinking at him in confusion.

“I know that you’d never cheat on me - you’re too good of a person to ever do that. But… well, it’s complicated.” Connall sighed dropping his head back against the window with a bang.

It was Vesta who bridged the gap between them this time, her fingers dancing over his hand before she twined their fingers together. “Talk to me, baby. What’s going on?”

He met her eyes, more tears spilling over as he offered up the most damaged parts of his soul. “I’ve never been the guy that girls wanted to be with. I’m quiet, I’m sarcastic, and I can be a dick. Girls always wanted to be with Fen, and even when they wanted me, they only wanted me because they thought I could get them closer to my brother.”

“Are you trying to tell me you think I’m going to leave you for your brother?”

“No, of course not.” He couldn’t help but let out a watery chuckle at that. “But it wasn’t just Fen. Whoever my friends were at the time - be it high school or college - girls always used me to get closer to them.”

Vesta tugged his hand up to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his fingers before she answered him. “I’m so sorry, Con. That’s awful.”

He nodded, the flow of tears slowing. “I know it doesn’t make up for what I said, but I’m hoping it might explain it. Seeing other guys showing an interest in you, it makes me nervous. It makes me feel like I did in high school, watching the girls I liked walk away from me the minute the guy they really wanted showed the slightest bit of interest. I know you don’t need to be protected - you know I know you can handle yourself - and I know you would never do to me what they did, but I just get so afraid that I’ll lose you.”

Vesta gave him a watery smile, a spark of happiness lighting up her eyes as she took in his words. “You’re afraid of losing me?”

“Of course I am. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Vesta. Losing you would absolutely wreck me.”

Vesta practically leapt over the console to get to him, her knees bracing around his hips as she tangled her fingers in his hair. “Oh, Connall,” she breathed, her breath ghosting over his neck.

His own arms banded around her waist, holding her against him like he was afraid to let go as he pressed kisses to her head and temple. “I’m so sorry, my love. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course I can,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his neck one more time before she pulled away. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not still angry,” she muttered, flicking his nose and giving him a stern look.

“Understood,” Connall replied, something in his chest easing when he saw the slight smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah, babe, we are.” Leaning over to grab the keys from the ignition, she motioned for Connall to get out of the car. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Realizing how tired he was, Connall grinned sleepily up at her as he climbed out of the SUV. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“Yeah, I know it does,” she quipped, taking the hand he offered her as she climbed out after him. “Besides, you’re going to have a wicked hangover in the morning and I’ll enjoy giving you hell about this fight even more then.”

He laughed, though he knew she was serious. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he guided her toward his apartment, a relieved smile on his face. “Whatever you want, my love.”

As long as he knew that they would be okay, that they would make it through this, then it really was whatever she wanted. Even if that was to yell at him while he was hungover.

ONE YEAR, SIX MONTHS, AND TWENTY-NINE DAYS AGO

“Gav,” Lin whined, her legs curled underneath her as she perched on the counter, “would you quit worrying about your hair? We’re just going for a run.”

Grinning at his fiancée, Gavriel just winked at her as he continued to smooth out his hair as he pulled it into a bun. She groaned at him, and he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his throat. “What’s got you in such a hurry today, love? Like you said, it’s just a run - nothing pressing.”

She shot him a devious little smirk, and he felt his heart flutter in response. “Because,” she murmured, voice low and breathy, “the sooner we get back from our run, the sooner I can join you in the shower.”

Gavriel suddenly found he didn’t care about his hair anymore. “Linnea Sidero,” he said as he stalked toward her, “you will be the death of me.” He came to a stop in front of her, and Lin uncurled her legs so she could wrap them around his waist as he tangled one hand in her hair. His other hand came to rest on the side of her neck, thumb brushing lightly over her jaw as he captured her lips with his.

Using his grip to angle her head, Gavriel kissed her harder, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a groan. Her hands were resting on his chest, fingers curling against the fabric of his tank top as she moaned into his kiss.

Pulling away with a gasp, he went to rest his forehead against hers when his attention snagged on the open envelope on the counter behind her.

“Babe, what’s the National Archery Conference want?” he gestured to the letter behind her at her confused look.

Lin was a champion archer, though Gavriel had noticed she hadn’t been competing as much recently. She also worked as a mechanic at a garage in town, and though he knew she had been picking up more hours there, he worried she was letting archery slip away because of him - because of their relationship.

“Oh, that,” she breathed. “They’ve invited me to join them for a two-month world exposition of all the champion archers.”

“That’s amazing, love.” Gavriel pressed a kiss to her forehead before grinning down at her. “When do you leave?”

“Well, it starts next month,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes. “But,” she continued, an unreadable emotion flashing in her eyes as she finally met his gaze, “I’m not going.”

“What?” Gavriel spluttered, his hands falling from where they’d been cupping her face as he stumbled back a step. “What do you mean you aren’t going?”

“I mean I’m not going.” Lin shot him a confused look, one eyebrow arching as she reached out to grab his hand. “What’s so hard to understand about that?”

He pulled his hand from hers, choosing instead to scrub it over his face. “No, I understood that perfectly. What I meant was, why aren’t you going?”

“Because it’s two months long, that’s why.” She dropped her hand on the counter behind her, sighing as she looked at him. “I have a job here. I have friends here. You’re here. I don’t want to leave my entire life behind for two months.”

Gavriel just shook his head as his worst feelings were confirmed. All of these thoughts and emotions were swarming his brain, but the only one he could vocalize was, “You have to go.”

“Oh, I have to go?” She was practically shouting now, anger crossing her face as she jumped off the counter. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

He glared down at her. “I’m your fiance - that’s who I am. And I’m not letting you give up your dreams for me.”

That caught her off guard. All the anger slipped off her features, and a deep sadness filled her eyes as she looked at him. “What are you talking about? What dream am I supposedly giving up?”

“Archery. Being a champion archer. Traveling the world.”

“Gav, what? That’s not -.” Lin broke off as he backed away from her, shaking his head as she reached for him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, backing even further away from her. “But I won’t let you ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for. You have to go on this tour. And I - I have to go. I’m sorry.” Even as tears built in her eyes, Gavriel turned away from her, letting himself out the front door and walking away from the woman he loved.

~*^*~

1:48 AM. That’s what time the clock read when Gavriel finally stopped staring at the ceiling long enough to look at it. Groaning, he rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow as the events of his afternoon whirled around his mind for the millionth time since they’d happened.

He couldn’t believe it. He’d told Lin, the love of his life, the woman of his dreams, that she had to follow her dreams even if it meant leaving him behind. He’d meant every word of it to, but - walking out on her like that? That wasn’t the way he should’ve handled the whole situation, and he knew it.

Rutting gods, but he’d messed this up. Just as that thought, and a hundred others just like it, raced through his head, his phone started ringing on the nightstand. He reached out and answered it without paying attention to who was even calling, too caught up in his thoughts to care.

“Yeah?” he muttered, tears building in his eyes as Lin’s broken-hearted face flashed through his mind again.

“Gav?” the voice on the other end questioned, and he jolted up when he realized it was Lin. “Baby, I need to talk to you.”

He rubbed his eyes, trying to both wake himself up and push the tears away. “Lin, hey, is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” Gavriel thought he heard her sniffle through the phone, but he wasn’t entirely sure. “I’m going to talk, and I need you to listen, okay?”

“Of course, love.”

Lin took a deep breath before answering him. “Listen, I know you’re worried about me giving up my dreams for you, but that’s not true. Archery isn’t my dream - it never really was. Yes, I love it, and yeah, being a champion is cool, but it’s just something I do for fun. I like my life just the way it is now, and I’m not giving up my dreams to keep it that way. Okay?”

He nodded, and then realized that she couldn’t see him. “So, archery isn’t your dream?”

She huffed, and he could practically hear her frustration in that single noise. “No, my love, it’s not. In fact, I’m staring at the door of my dream right now.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, interest piqued, “and what is that?”

“Open your door.”

Gavriel didn’t think he’d ever jumped out of bed so fast. Heart racing, he practically sprinted through his apartment, pulling the door open before he’d even hung up the phone.

Lin was standing just on the other side of it, a handful of sunflowers in her hands. She smiled up at him, a small timid thing, and reached one hand out for the strings on his sweats. “You’re my dream, Gav. You, and this life we’re building together, and the future we’re going to have. You are everything I want.”

There was nothing he could do to keep his tears from falling as he reached for, barely remembering to take the flowers from her and set them on the table by his door before he was crushing her against his chest. He could feel her muffled sobs against his chest, his own tears soaking into her hair as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he murmured, pulling back to kiss her forehead. “I’m so sorry and I love you so much.” He choked back a sob then, the awe he felt for the woman in front of him completely filling him. “I just - I just wanted -.”

Lin cupped his jaw in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears rolling down his cheeks. “I know, my love. I know. And I love you.” She was crying as she looked up at him, but she was smiling too, and he realized how lucky he was to have her in his life.

Sliding his hands under her thighs, Gavriel hauled her into his arms, her legs bracing around his waist as he held her with one arm. With his free hand, he reached for the flowers, carrying them to the kitchen so he could get them in water.

LIn laughed at him the whole time, since he refused to put her down, but he didn’t care. He’d spent the whole night thinking he’d lost her, and he wasn’t about to let her go anytime soon.

Once the flowers were in water, he made his way to his room, his mind finally calming enough that he could finally feel how tired he was. Gavriel crawled under the covers and situated Lin over his chest, barely giving her time to kick off her shoes in the process.

One hand tangled with his, it didn’t take long for Lin to fall asleep, and the steady rhythm of her breathing soon lulled him into slumber, a peaceful smile on his features as he drifted off.

And that’s that! Don’t worry, not all of the new CW stuff will be this angsty!

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