#wwb wwg

[writtenonreceipts]

Shorter chapter! Was orginally going to be part of Rowaelin Month, enter life...

Find the Fic Masterlist Here // AO3

warnings: nothing too major this time around. ~3.7k words

Where We've Been, Where We're Going--Part Seven

After a long shift at work Aelin wanted nothing more than to go home and collapse on the couch.  Meiri would either crawl up beside her and snuggle in or she would continue to play with her dolls and stuffies on the floor in front of the tv.  Either way, it was a distraction and comfort that Aelin wanted more than anything and had been thinking about all afternoon.

Now, as Aelin trudged the few blocks to her house, she felt a bit of trepidation.  Rowan had texted her letting her know that Meiri’d gotten hungry so they headed back home to fix peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Aelin really hoped he didn’t notice how crooked and messed up her cabinet doors were.  Or the fact that the fridge needed to be replaced.  Badly.  Not that it mattered.  He’d seen first hand how messed up her life was, what was a little more chaos in the mix?

Her phone pinged with a new message.  She looked down to see Marion’s name flash on the screen.

Marion: they came to the library Marion: he sat in a tiny plastic chair Marion: nerd

Aelin rolled her eyes.

Aelin: did Meiri seem ok? Marion: yes Marion: he was good with her Marion: for a brute

Aelin felt the bit of unease in her chest loosen.  Marion wouldn’t lie to her, not about this.  She trusted her friend to be a good judgment of character, even if Marion herself was impossible to get to know. 

So, she hurried down the street, turning the last corner down her street.  In the late summer night the sun cast long shadows along the road and the crickets were already out chirping loudly.  The sky hazed the line between gold and gray, already leaving a few stars exposed.

Eager to see her daughter, Aelin climbed the steps to her house and had the door open in record time.  She just wasn’t prepared for what she would see.

Seated on the floor was Rowan holding a pink plastic teacup with several of Meiri’s toys in a half circle around him.  There was a plate of sandwich crusts off to the side.  Meiri herself held her play teapot and beamed up at her mother. 

   “Momma!”  Meiri beamed. “We’re having a tea party!”

Aelin didn’t know what she liked more: seeing her daughter so delighted or the fact that Rowan remained dutifully in his seat even though he was nearly buried by toys and a pink fleece blanket.  To his credit--Rowan only appeared to be mildly confused about the turn of events for the night.

“A tea party?” Aelin gasped, choosing to play into Meiri’s obvious joy. “Wow!  It looks like so much fun.”

“We had peanut butter ‘n jelly sandwiches,” Meiri said, “Rowan doesn’t know how to make pancakes.”

Rowan offered Aelin a small smile. “You don’t have the pre-packaged mix.”

Just like when he’d told her he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten pancakes--Aelin felt her heart drop in sympathy.  And not for the first time did she wonder about his past and what he’d been through. 

“We can make pancakes another night, Firefly,” Aelin said. “Go get your jammies on and we can read some books before bed.”

Meiri pouted and clutched the plastic teapot to her chest. “No, momma!  Not yet, there’s still tea left!”

It wasn’t often that Meiri didn’t want to read her books, usually their bedtime routine was pretty easy.  Morning wake-ups were the struggle.

Rowan shifted, easing aside the pink blanket Meiri had given him to “snuggle-up” as she liked to call it.

“Hey, Meiri, didn't you get a new book from the library?  The special one Marion found for you?”

The reminder was all Meiri needed before she let out a gasp and ran madly up the stairs to her room.

“Thank Mala,” Aelin muttered.  She collapsed onto the couch, already kicking her shoes off.  The converse were old and would need to be replaced soon.  The soles let in water on a regular basis leaving her in wet socks for most of her shift.  She longed for a pedicure but the nearest salon was three hours away. “Sometimes she drags the tea party out for hours because the tea is invisible and she’s the only one that can see into the teapot because she’s got magic eyes.  I have to bribe her with ice cream to move on.”

Rowan made a noise of amusement, not quite a chuckle and not quite a laugh.  It was more of a sharp exhale.

“Ice cream’s a good distraction,” he agreed.  He began gathering to fold the blanket, tucking it to the side, then grabbed the remains of the sandwiches, standing as he took them to the small kitchen.

“You don’t have to worry about any of that,” Aelin said, “I can take care of it.”

She fingered her golden pendant with its small, opal center.  She didn’t know why she still kept it after all these years.  Maybe she should be proud of herself for not pawning it off for the cash.  But then a part of her was ashamed that she kept it.  Aside from Meiri, it was the only thing Aelin had left that Arobynn had given her.  He’d sent it to her three weeks after he’d left and Aelin had taken it as the last motivator she needed to leave.

“It’s fine,” Rowan called back.  

A moment later the sink came on and he washed the few dishes he’d used.  Aelin watched from where she sat on the couch, a perfect view of Rowan’s back as he worked.  He still wore his black shirt and jeans, his broad back straining against the fabric.

It was strange to have someone else in her kitchen like that.  It was casual and at ease and so utterly foreign that all Aelin could do was watch as he settled the cleaned dishes into the drying rack.  He dried his hands on a dish towel before turning around.  He paused in the doorway between the two room

“Thanks for your help today,” Aelin managed to say.  She dropped the pendant back down the front of her shirt and sat up a little straighter. “And for helping Malakai and Emrys the way you are.”

Rowan shrugged. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Still,” Aelin said, “it’s appreciated.”

He looked uncomfortable at the words as his gaze dropped and shoulders stiffened.  Given how confident and assured he always appeared to be--the action was out of place with how Aelin saw Rowan.

“I’ll head out,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Upstairs, Aelin heard Meiri’s pounding feet and slamming drawers.  She glanced back to the room that Rowan used when he first got here.

“The room’s still open,” she said, “if you want it.  I know the cot Malakai has out at the motel isn’t the best.”

Rowan didn’t say anything for a minute as he looked her over, gauging any sort of tell she might give off if her words weren’t genuine.  She’d always shied away from such scrutiny, thanks to Arobynn.  And then the desire to go unnoticed from anyone and everyone.  But Rowan didn’t look at her like anyone else did.  Not like she had something to give him or an expectation to fulfill.  He looked at her like a person, like someone real.

“The cot’s fine,” he said, “I know you value your privacy, and Meiri--”

“Rowan,” Aelin cut him off, “I spent a week on that cot pregnant.  It is not fine.  Besides, your things are still in there since before…before Emrys’ hospital trip.  And it’s late”

It was only eight but that didn’t matter.

Rowan took a minute to contemplate her words before he nodded. “Alright.  I left the key you gave me on the counter.  Figured you’d want it back.”

“Thanks,” Aelin said.  She rose from the couch, already regretting putting weight back on her feet.  She didn’t know what else there was to say or even how to say it.  So she left it as a singular word.

Rowan remained in the doorway to the kitchen.  His broad shoulders blocked out most of the dim light, his stone hewn features unreadable.  He was ruggedly handsome with the stubble growing in and the way his hair flopped a little over his forehead.  The shaggy cut was a mess and Aelin decided that he wasn’t used to it being so grown out.

There was still so much about him that remained a mystery.  Against her better judgment, Aelin found herself intrigued.  But she wouldn’t allow herself to reach out any further than she already had.  She couldn’t.

“Good night,” she said, finally, and turned to the stairs as Meiri called out for her.

“Good night,” Rowan echoed softly as she disappeared.

…

When Aelin awoke the next morning it was to find that Meiri had crawled into bed with her at some point in the night.  A boney elbow was digging into her gut and drool soaked her shoulder.

Aelin peeked down at her daughter who was still out cold and smiled.  Her hair was a tangle around her face, the golden color darkening at the roots.  For the longest time, Meiri had been a little blonde haired blue eyed menace, but as she grew older there were distinct things to her appearance that were changing.

She was still a beautiful girl, smart and funny and the best thing that had ever happened to Aelin but Aelin couldn’t help but wonder if one day in the future, Meiri would ask about her birth father.  How Aelin would handle that she didn’t know.  There had been a few brief questions but those had all been explained away easily--you don’t need a dad, we’re a family all our own, you have plenty of uncles who love you.

But those thoughts always sent Aelin back to thinking about Meiri’s other family.  Her blood family.  She would think about how Aedion would adore her and spoil her rotten with anything and everything.  Her parents would have annual passes to zoos and museums and aquariums galore.  Lysandra would be a phenomenal aunt that would sneak Meiri to get her ears pierced and then early morning pancake dates.  

Aelin looked at her daughter and sighed.  She blinked back tears that were forming and tried to think of other things.  It was almost the weekend and she’d promised Yrene a fun night out with the girls.  Not just that, but she’d told Dorian she would help with some set up of the County Fair.  She was deeply regretting that choice but knew it was too late to back down.

Slowly, she eased out of bed and let Meiri sleep on.  It was best not to wake the beast too early.

Changing into a pair of leggings and t-shirt, Aelin headed downstairs.

She paused when she saw the spare room open.  And because she was nosey and it was technically her house, Aelin crept to the room.  Rowan was gone but he left the bed perfectly made, tucked in tight at the corners.  His duffel bag was zipped up on the floor, looking like it had been to hell and back.  

She shouldn’t have been surprised.  

Pulling back Aelin headed to the kitchen, pausing when out of the front window there was a giant blue truck sitting in front of her house.  It took an embarrassing amount of time for her to realize it was probably Rowan’s truck.  She’d just never seen it in person.  He must have gotten up early to retrieve it from Sartaq.

Curious, Aelin walked to the window.  Immediately she found Rowan.  He had his toolbox at his side and was fixing the uneven planks of the front fence.

Of course he was.

Did the man ever sleep?

She was starting to sincerely doubt it.

As she made for the kitchen Aelin decided she would have to actually try and pay him if he kept this up.  She put on a pot of coffee, the old machine whirring loudly.  One of these days she’d be able to replace it.  As she waited for the brew, she leaned against the counter and sighed.  She had another afternoon shift tonight, but Nehemia would be available to take Meiri, which was probably for the best.

If Rowan was doing everything in his power to get out of this town (despite taking on charity cases to fix up old motels and fences) she didn’t want Meiri getting attached.  Hell, she didn’t want herself getting attached.

A soft buzz drew her attention to the counter where she found a small black phone.  Aelin paused.  It wasn’t hers, but Rowan’s.  It was entirely non descript and cheap looking, a burner phone or one you could buy at Walmart without any fuss.  Just like the one she had.

The phone lit up with another incoming text.

Don’t do it.  Don’t do it.  Don’t do it.

Aelin looked at the screen.  There were three different UNKNOWN messages waiting to be read.

UNKNOWN NUMBER 1: it's not your fault. And none of the others blame you either.  I know you're not… UNKNOWN NUMBER 2: Found a job for you in CA if you want UNKNOWN NUMBER 3: Got your number from Axehound.  Just wanted to ask… UNKNOWN NUMBER 1: I know you’re not dead, Whitethorn. Just tell me if you're in or not and I’ll let them know…

The preview of the messages cut off keeping the rest of the words hidden.  When the screen went blank, Aelin felt just a bit of guilt worm its way through her.  Despite her better judgment, she actually liked Rowan.  And even if he was a stranger with an unknown past--he was just trying tread water. 

Aelin fixed two cups of coffee, one with cream and sugar for herself and the other she left as the plain dark roast.  She headed out to the front porch with every intention of dropping the mug off on the banister and calling out to Rowan that it was there, but dammit, she got distracted.

Because Rowan was currently standing shirtless in her front yard glaring daggers at the fence he was trying to fix.

Even within the first few seconds of first meeting him (was that a week ago now?) Aelin had known he was attractive.  His face was rugged and stamped with stubble, his green eyes brilliant and steady.  She’d been able to tell that he was well built too, but she’d just never realized how well off he was.

Even yesterday she’d gotten distracted at his shirtless attire, but he’d rectified that rather quickly without giving her time to ogle.  Now, in the early morning warmth, he was shirtless once again, a sheen of sweat glistening on hard packed muscles, only emphasizing his tan skin.  Dark whorls of tattoos ran up one arm and across half his chest, the army ranger tattoo in the midst of them.  He was a greek god personified and she wouldn’t not be ashamed to admit it.

His dark wash jeans slung low on his hips, a worn leather tool belt as well.  He looked well at home with a nail between his teeth and hammer in one hand.  Even if he was scowling.  

She knew the fence was a wreck and had never bothered to try and fix it on her own.  She’d always been outside with Meiri anyways and she’d never been one to wander off.  They didn’t have a dog or pet so making sure the gate remained shut wasn’t an issue either.  She would have tried to fix it herself if she’d known where to start.

Rowan seemed to sense presence because he looked up just then, meeting her gaze.

“Morning,” Aelin called, hoping the flush on her skin wasn’t too noticeable.  She held up the cup of coffee she’d made for him.  Hello Sunshine beamed happily on the edges. “Coffee?”

Seeming to be lost in his own thoughts, it took Rowan a moment before he nodded slowly.  Looping the hammer back in the belt, he slowly made his way back to the porch and tucked the loose nail into one of the pockets on the belt as well.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting the mug.  He took a long swallow, either not noticing or not caring it was straight black coffee.

“You don’t have to do this, y’know,” Aelin said.  She nodded out towards the fence. “It’s more of a hassle than it’s worth.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he replied, “I don’t have money right now to repay you for letting me stay.  Fixing the truck took more than I was expecting.”

“I can pay--” Aelin began just as she had last night when he’d watched Meiri.

He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.  Just--don’t worry about it.”

Aelin stared at him, with the sun at his back it was hard to get a good look at his expression.  But she supposed she could let this go.  For now.  She never liked being in someone's debt, knowing they were doing more for her than she them.  She knew it was conditioning from Arobynn.  For the few years they were together he had conditioned her into giving away bits and pieces of herself to make sure he was happy.  All she’d ever wanted was to make sure he was taken care of.  Most of it was out of self-preservation and only now that she was free of him was she beginning to see just how manipulative he’d been.

  Instinctively, she knew that Rowan wasn’t the same person as Arobynn.  And she really did believe that Rowan wanted to help.  But with the little she knew about his past and those messages she’d seen on his phone--he was caught up in more than he was letting on and Aelin didn’t know if that was worth overlooking.

“Will you be heading out now that the truck’s done?” she asked.  It was either that or ask exactly what he was running from.

Rowan took another long gulp of coffee before running a hand across his bare neck.  It was barely eight in the morning, but the sun had already decided to bare down on them with a new fury.  His tan skin glistened with sweat and this close, Aelin could make out the scars that along his chest and side.  One in particular looked nasty with the way the skin puckered and still had a pink tinge along the edge.  It was a little too long to be a bullet wound, shrapnel maybe.

“Nah,” he said, “I told Malakai I’d help get the motel ready.  I intend to keep my word on that.”

“I thought you had to get to California?” she pressed.  Seeing as how it had been the only thing he would talk about for the first two days of being in Terrasen, she found it hard to believe he’d let go of the plan so easily.

That had Rowan looking away from her and off in the distance toward the direction of the mountains that rose up in the distance.  From that angle, Aelin could see the growth of stubble tracing across his features, the subtle deeper shades of green in his eyes. His jaw flexed and Aelin had a brief moment where she thought she could read his thoughts as plainly as if he’d spoken them aloud.

I’m not ready for that.

“It can wait,” he said instead.

She didn’t believe him.  And she wished she could press him for information, to understand what was working in his thoughts and why he was so insistent on keeping his past in the past.

“Just one more question,” she said, turning back to him, one hand reaching out of the doorknob. “Do you ever sleep?  All you seem to actually do is handiwork and child wrangling.”

She meant it to be lighthearted, a little teasing of sorts.  But knew almost instantly it was the wrong thing to say.  But it was hard not to notice how she’d never actually seen him asleep.  That he was always up far too early than any human should be.  That he never seemed to rest.  In fact, last night with Meiri’s tea party was the first time Aelin had seen Rowan somewhat at ease.  And spending several hours in the presence of a five-year old was not a picnic.

Rowan set his half empty mug of coffee on the front porch step (an obvious means of avoiding a question if Aelin ever saw one).

“I don’t need a lot of sleep,” he said.  

It was the worst lie he’d told her since his arrival.  Aelin stared at him for an extra few seconds in case he wanted to change his mind.  But he didn’t.

“Alright.”  Aelin sipped her own coffee. “Well, I’m making oatmeal for breakfast if you want something to eat.”

“No pancakes?”  The ghost of a smile flashed on his lips.

Rolling her eyes, Aelin leaned against the porch railing. “No.  So you may have to prepare yourself for a very pissed-off five-year-old.”

That got a real smile that caused small wrinkles to spread at the corners of Rowan’s eyes.  It gave him a soft look, similar to that kind easy nature she’d seen on him last night when he’d willingly given into Meiri’s every whim.

“You don’t--” he began.

“You’re worse than my child,” Aelin cut him off.  She gave him a significant look. “You’re going to eat breakfast so you can have a good day.  It’s important to eat so we can grow healthy and strong and take over the world.”

It was the same thing she recited to Meiri whenever she didn’t want to eat something or when she didn’t want to try something new.  It was usually only a nudge to encourage her daughter, but sometimes a little more forceful.  Like now.

“Take over the world, huh?” he asked.

“It’s on the to-do list.” And with that, Aelin turned back to head inside the house.  “Breakfast is in twenty minutes.”

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

not ready to try tagging again. reblogs appreciated

[postsofbabel]

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[writtenonreceipts]

This is the chapter that kinda started it all, especially the flashback. I’m trying to make things move faster than they want to.  I think I’m just resigned to be that fic writer who never finishes anything.  Sorry you have to deal with me…

Find the Masterlist Here // Ao3 Link

Warnings: These apply to the flashback portion at the end of the chapter: language (nothing major, just more than I typically like using), war, blood, injury, minor character death, if you’re iffy/worried dm me or send an ask and I can summarize details if you’d like.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Where We've Been, Where We're Going--Part Eight  

The next few days continued in an easy rhythm.  

Rowan didn’t know what surprised him more--that he adapted so easily to the various tasks he had on hand or that he and Aelin had entered into a cautious friendship.

Though, to be frank, cautious was putting it lightly.  It was a situation he’d never found himself in before and he wasn’t sure how to proceed.  He made sure he wasn’t in the house when Aelin wasn’t and tried to stay out even when she was home, only returning when he had to or she sent him a message about an extra pizza slice in the fridge for him.  But he didn’t want to intrude.  Or he really just didn’t want to run the risk of letting something slip or proving just how incapable he was at being around other people.  

Keeping busy helped.  

Unfortunately, he didn’t sleep any better which was more of a pain than he’d let anyone know.    During the day he could distract himself with various tasks of making sure fence posts were even or he did a decent job installing windows.  At night, alone and in the silence, was when his mind would wander most.  It was here in the quiet confines of his mind that his memories came out from the shadows.

 For now, it was easy enough to keep to himself.  When he got too restless at night he’d go out and sit in the bed of the truck and stare out at the night sky.  More often than not, it was cloudless and he could watch the stars.  It was much as he did in Kovac only with different constellations.  

The only thing that really bothered him was ignoring the various texts and calls now that he was letting his phone remain charged up.  He’d only done it to keep Aelin appraised of his watching Meiri that one night.  And then, for some reason, he left the damn thing on and charged ever since.  

Aelin only sent him a few messages during the day.  Mostly simple reminders to eat something.  And then a few updates on Emrys as well.  Rowan didn’t tell Aelin he’d given Malakai his number already.  He didn’t want to run the risk of her not messaging as often as she did.

Which he realized made him a miserable ass, but he already knew that.

By the time two full weeks had passed since his arrival, Rowan had become a recognizable figure in Terrasen.  People actually knew his name and would greet him on the street or at the store.  Some would hire him out for odd jobs in their yards, even Sartaq let Rowan swing by to fix up a few other cars on occasion.

He was still helping get the motel up and running of course.  Emrys was still in rehab after some tests came back a little less optimistic than what the doctors preferred.  So, Rowan kept up his usual ritual of odd job help in the morning and hammering away at the motel until well into the night.

The routine was more helpful than he’d ever admit.

It almost made it easier to bear the memories.

Until his phone kept buzzing.  There was only one consistent number that reached out to him and after a while, Rowan wondered if he should just save the new contact.

Which was probably why he was currently distracting himself at Sartaq’s garage.

It was a late Friday afternoon with the usual summer heat and bright sunlight banking through the open doors.  Rowan was staring down into a nearly obliterated radiator and hose tear wondering just how poorly this car had been treated in the past when Sartaq finally broached a topic he’d much rather had avoided.

They’d both served in Kovac, Sartaq for such a short time and Rowan had been busy in sniper training that they’d never met.  Sartaq also hadn’t been in a position that could also lead him to potential harm.  Family strings and all.  Rowan didn’t begrudge the man for that--as far as he could tell, Sartaq would have been in the front lines even now if his family would allow it.  Instead, to keep him from getting himself killed, his wealthy parents let him land in Terrasen fixing up old cars.  Rowan had the feeling his new friend resented his family quite a bit even if he liked the work he was doing.

“Did you ever go to Orynth?” Sartaq asked.  He leaned over another car that had been brought over doing a general assessment on what would just be a break-check and oil change.

Rowan paused to wipe his hands on a grease rag, not really wanting to talk about the war.  But he figured Sartaq would be a decent enough guy to back off if Rowan started showing any signs of disinterest in the topic.

“No, but I heard it was rough,” he said. “One of my mates was reassigned there for a few weeks out of punishment.”

Lorcan never did say why Maeve made him go, just that he’d learned his lesson on the matter.  He did, however, share that they could all consider themselves lucky for not going.  Lorcan had always been that way: never sharing anything, never revealing anything, never opening up with vulnerability.

“Nesryn was stationed there for ages,” Sartaq said.  He often referred to his friend as though Rowan knew her himself.  As it was, she was a constant staple of conversation in the garage.  “Always said it was the worst place to be.”

“Isn’t she the one that would whip out a bow and arrow instead of actually using a gun in training?” Rowan asked.  In all honesty, he was desperate to have some sort of a good connection to his memories of Kovac instead of the blood and violence and misery.  So why not play into this conversation just a little?

Sartaq chuckled. “Yeah, probably.  She was only a translator so she never liked using a gun, but the locals had bows and arrows to use when their resources were so shitty.  So she’d entertain the kids when their parents were dying or after a raid when the Valg gangs would wreak havoc.  She was good like that.”

Rowan remembered her.  He’d never actually met her, only saw brief snippets of her or heard other soldiers talk about how she’d take no shit or stupid orders.  The one real memory he had occured after that damn raid that sent the rest of his military career into hell.  

He’d been kicked out of a debriefing and instead was trying to clean his rifle when this woman waltz through camp with a bow and arrow.  She had a bag full of candy and water on one shoulder and a beautiful handcrafted weapon on the other.  Kids tentatively approached while she put on a small show of all the odd places she could land and arrow from all sorts of strange positions.

It was the first time in a long time he’d seen the kids of the village smile.

“Yeah, Maeve got pissed at her for it too,” Rowan said.  He loosened a bolt on one of the spring clamps that needed to be replaced.  “Said she was being too distracting.  But Nesryn just shot an apple straight from a kid's hand.  Didn’t even look.”

With a fond shake of his head, Sartaq didn’t say anything for a minute. “You were under Maeve’s command?”

And just like that, Rowan felt an icy dread pool in his gut.

“Yeah.”

“I heard about her and that prick Hammel.”

Static started buzzing in Rowan’s ears.  He crossed to where there were some extra bolts and equipment waiting to be used.  Tacky sweat gathered on his skin and he wondered if he could get along with disinterested grunts the rest of the day.

“They were always so elitist, yeah?  Really careful about who they let on their squad.”

Sartaq didn’t notice Rowan’s dilemma in the slightest.  Which was supposedly a good thing.  If he didn’t notice then he wouldn’t ask about it.  

“How’d you manage to be a part of that little cadre?”

“I was a sniper,” Rowan said.  He took his time picking out a new bolt, clamp, and radiator hose that would fit the car’s needs he was working on. “Had the best marks, I guess.”

“Strange she’d let you go after getting her claws in you.”

“Proof we don’t always get what we want,” Rowan said, lightly.  He added a laugh, strained though it was.  

So, Sartaq didn’t know about that last mission.  Not surprising considering how long he’d been out, but still.  Rowan was grateful he didn’t have to talk about it.  He could manage a passing tale about Talbot if he needed.  But that last raid?  The one where he’d screwed up enough to be stripped of his previous honors?  To be dishonorably discharged?  That one he’d take with him to his grave.

…

It was late the next day when Rowan got a call he actually wanted to pick up.

He was back at the motel trying to figure out how to reach one of the window ledges that had not been planned out very well when his phone buzzed.  The only reason he knew who it was was because Aelin stood and watched as he saved the number.

MALAKAI steamed across the screen in bold letters.

For a moment, Rowan worried if it was bad news.  He wasn’t sure he could handle a messy phone call.  But then he managed to convince himself that Malakai certainly wouldn’t try calling him if it were bad news about Emrys.  He’d be too focused on Aelin and his son. So, Rowan picked up the call.

“Malakai,” he greeted.

“Rowan, glad you have caught you,” Malakai said.  The unspoken I didn’t know if you’d actually answer was particularly loud in the brief silence that followed. “I wanted to let you know that Emrys’ numbers improved and he’s being discharged tomorrow.”

It was a strange thing to feel joy.  Especially when it had been so long since the last time you felt it.  So when his heart skipped and all the tension eased from his body, Rowan had no idea how to respond.

“That’s,” he finally managed, “that’s good to hear.”

“I tried calling Aelin, but I know she’s on shift,” Malakai said. “I know it would mean a lot to her if she knew sooner rather than later.  Would you mind going--”

“I can do that,” Rowan cut in.  Hell, there was nothing he’d want to do more. “I’ll head over there now, I was just finishing up one of the windows at the motel.”

There was a beat. “You were doing what now?”

Ah.  He’d forgotten he hadn’t actually told Malakai what he’d been doing the last two weeks.  Everyone just assumed he had and Rowan went along with it.

“I gotta go.”  Rowan hung up.  He didn’t really like talking to people anyways.

He made quick work of packing up and ensuring the motel was locked.  The ladder went around the far corner of the motel near the alleyway.  Despite some rambunctious teens and the usual problematic people in a small town, nothing was really in danger of getting stolen.  Plus, Rowan would see to it personally if anything was taken from Malakai and Emrys.

He closed up his tool box and settled it in the bed of his truck before driving the short few blocks to the diner.

The parking lot was nearly empty aside from Nox’s car around back.  Aelin usually walked to work whenever she could.  Only a dark truck was in the lot and Rowan recognized that as Mr. Aguayo’s.  He always swung by to purchase an order of steak and gravy for his pregnant wife.

Rowan parked near the back of the lot, not minding an extra walk.  It was still warm even as the summer days slowly drifted closer to fall.  From what he’d heard, it wasn’t until October that the weather drifted below seventy degrees.  And then usually the first snow came in November.  It’d been ages since Rowan had experienced snow and he wondered what it would be like…

Though, he’d be leaving soon enough so it didn’t really matter.

Mr. Aguayo was leaving just as Rowan walked up to the door.  They exchanged a quick greeting--Rowan really didn’t know the man very well aside from his small landscaping business.  And Mrs. Aguayo loved her steak cooked at a medium rare.  And she often craved Funyuns too.

Once inside the diner, Rowan almost felt like home.  The 50’s aesthetic was just as garish as the first day he’d been in there.  The red booths and checked floor looked a bit tired, but clean.  

“Welcome in! Oh, Rowan.” Aelin rounded the corner from the back of the restaurant, dressed in her usual shorts, t-shirt, and an apron that had seen better days.  Her blonde hair was in a long braid over one shoulder, frayed edges poking out after a day of running between tables. “You here to eat?”

“Have you checked your phone recently?” he asked instead, though he knew that if she’d seen any messages from Malakai she would have already heard the news and would have been telling him all about it.

She frowned, scrambling for the pockets of her apron. “What happened?  Is it Marion?”

“Wh-No, no,” Rowan said.  He wondered briefly why her mind went straight to Marion, but he hurried to cross the space between them to reassure her.  He rested a hand on her arm before he thought better of it. “It’s good news, I promise.”

She stared at him with wide, blue eyes.  There was apprehension there, but trust too.  It had been so long since anyone had looked at him like that, trusting and open, that Rowan found himself speechless.

“Emrys is being released from the hospital tomorrow.”  He didn’t want her hanging on anymore of his words waiting for bad news. “Malakai just called me.”

Aelin released a shaky breath before she laughed.  And then, in a turn of events that Rowan had not expected, she threw her arms around him in a hug.

The first thing Rowan noticed was the fact that Aelin smelled like jasmine and honey.  The second was her soft curves and vice like grip.  And then he thought about how long it had been since someone had hugged him.

No one on his squad cared for anything other than the roughhousing or smacks upside the head.  He hadn’t seen either of his cousins since before he enlisted and even then, the Whitethorn’s weren’t touchy-feely.  And that was it.  That was everyone he knew that he would even consider hugging.  And here was Aelin who had been through hell and back hugging him as though they were friends as though she actually liked him.

And he had no idea what to do.

Oh he knew the mechanics of a hug and how not to be a complete robot in his emotions.  Somewhat.  But this was Aelin.  Who in just a few short weeks had come to actually mean something to him even if he didn’t know how to define it.  And he was Rowan who had only ever been a complete and utter screw-up.  In everything.

“Sorry,” Aelin said, pulling back while Rowan just stood there. Her cheeks were flushed with a mix of embarrassment and residual excitement. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.  I wasn’t thinking.”

Rowan cleared his throat, nose still tingling with the scent of her. “It’s fine.  It’s good news.”

“Yeah, it is,” she agreed.  She was still smiling but it was jaded now after he’d gone and made things awkward by not hugging her back. She brushed an errant hair from her eyes and didn’t meet his eyes. “Really good news.  I know they’re both ready for him to be home.  And Luca will be so excited too.  He’s been a mess since it happened.”

“It’ll be good for him to come home,” Rowan said.  This was the type of news everyone deserved to receive.  The type of news Rowan wished he could have given more than he did.

“Emrys always had that way about him of just making a place home, you know?  And giving me so much patience when I didn’t deserve it.”  Aelin exhaled slowly before looking at him. “Thank-you for coming to tell me.”

“I was glad to,” he said.  Really, it was the best change of pace from having to acknowledge another death.  And if it meant seeing her smile like that and have a bit of joy in her life?  Rowan would do anything for her to keep smiling, he decided.

“I’ve been a mess all week with his new tests going through,” Aelin said as she finished pulling her phone out of her apron pocket. “And Meiri is not enjoying daycare this summer, plus Marion--”

She waved a hand in dismissal and pulled up Malakai’s number on her screen.  Rowan should have left then, a part of him was screaming too.  She still had an hour on her shift, he’d told her what he wanted to, and there was still daylight left to try and finish another window at the motel.  And if not that, Murtaugh at the hardware store donated paint to help give the motel a new look.  Rowan could start in on that.  And yet, he stayed.

“Malakai,” Aelin said when the other line picked up. “Yeah, no, Rowan just told me.  He’s coming home tomorrow?...Good, that’s so good to hear…I’ll make sure Chaol brings Luca home…You too.”

She hung up, a small smile still on her lips.

“We’re going to have a welcome home party,” she announced.  She nodded firmly to assert her words more fully. “With chocolate cake.”

There was nothing that sounded more like Aelin than chocolate cake and parties.  Rowan could easily imagine that Aelin would put an overwhelming amount of detail and care into such a venture.  For the first time in knowing her, she actually looked happy and at peace.  Which, from what Rowan had gathered about her, was a miracle in itself.

“You’re going to come, right?” Aelin asked.

Rowan hesitated.  As of late, he’d never been one for social gatherings.  Especially not with so many people he didn’t know.  Sure the last few weeks he’d gotten to know many of the people in town.  But it wasn’t the same.  Not when the second the motel was finished he’d be gone and in California.

Crowds especially had been difficult and he’d avoided them ever since coming back home.  Most of the time he knew what his triggers were and how to avoid them.  Being in a crowded room could easily overwhelm him.

“I--” Rowan was blissfully cut off when the door of the diner opened and Chaol walked in.

The sheriff was only partially dressed in his uniform--the tan pants that most law officers wore looked a little worse for wear as they were stained with dirt, grass, and dark splotches that were almost certainly blood.  Instead of the usual brown button-up, he wore a plain white t-shirt that was a mess of dirt and dried blood.

“What happened to you?” Aelin asked when she took Chaol in.  

“Bad day,” Chaol said.  He scowled and ran a hand through his short hair.  “Told Luca I’d pick up food.”

It looked decidedly worse than a bad day but Rowan had a feeling Aelin was already gearing up to chew Chaol out.

“You have blood on your shirt,” she said, resting her hands on her hips.  She fixed Chaol with a glare that rivaled even the worst that Rowan had received.

Chaol returned the deadpanned stare. “It’s fine.”

Rolling her eyes, Aelin turned to head back to the kitchen. “There’s a few extra sandwiches in the back, give me a minute and I’ll do up some fries.”

“Thank’s Aelin,” Chaol called after her.  She waved a hand overhead to acknowledge she’d heard.

It was only when she was gone that Chaol sighed and ran a hand over his face.  He eyed Rowan for a moment before speaking up.

“It was an accident involving a kid,” Chaol admitted lightly. “Ten-years old.  Nothing anyone could have done.  And you know she wouldn’t take that easily.”

It was the simplest explanation he could have given, but Rowan could already paint an exact picture of what had happened.  Especially with how run down Chaol appeared now.  Rowan wondered why Chaol would take it on himself to use a filter around Aelin, especially considering her no nonsense attitude and strong will to simply survive.  Though, he’d try not to judge the sheriff too harshly for his choice.

He’d lived through his fair share of accidents. Accidents where no matter what anyone did it just wasn’t enough.

Rowan knew exactly what that was like.

“I’m sorry,” he said honestly.  

He thought, briefly, about spoiling the news of Emrys’ hospital release, but decided that would best be left for Aelin to reveal.  Besides, he needed to leave.  He didn’t know where he needed to be just anywhere but here.

Instead, Rowan offered a single nod and headed back out of the diner.  “Have a good night.��

Chaol frowned in confusion, gesturing to the kitchen doorway where Aelin had gone. “Do you want--”

But Rowan was already gone, lost to the heat of the night and the memories of his past.

…

There was a man dying next to him.

Rowan didn’t know him.  Rowan didn’t want to know him.

All he knew was that just moments before this man had been trying to kill him.  And he knew that now, amid the darkening shadows of the night, he was trying to say one final round of prayers.  And he knew that the blood seeping into the dusty ground was innocent.  Innocent.  Innocent because what right did Rowan have to kill this man?  Because of a raid that might not amount to anything?  Because of a war that had been drawn on so long that violence had become the only answer for any question asked.

The man’s final breath rattled wetly.

Forcing the man from his mind, Rowan pulled his knife from the man's gut and returned to his rifle.  He had to wipe the blood from his fingers first, but that couldn’t be avoided.  He slowly wrapped his fingers around the grips and rested his finger on the trigger.  When a soft breeze blew, the wet blood caused a chill to snatch across his skin.

Through his sights he could see the streets of the village they were about to raid.  Maeve was insistent the Valg gang that had been terrorizing this side of the city would be moving weapons tonight.  Rowan didn’t know where exactly the intel had come from, only that it was from a reliable source.  He supposed the dead man beside him was evidence enough.

Hammel had barely developed a plan besides watching the trucks that rolled in and out of the city.  Even though it had been one week since his arrival, the new co-captain hardly seemed interested in doing his job.

“White Hawk?” Gavriel’s voice came over on the coms. “I saw signs of a struggle.  You good?”

Rowan clicked his com in acknowledgement.

“Where’s Talbot?” Gavriel demanded. “Shouldn’t he have your back?”

“Taking care of a few spooks, sir,” came Talbot’s quiet reply, “circling back now.”

Rowan hadn’t been concerned over the kid making sure they wouldn’t have any more surprises.  While Talbot was a little younger than him, he was eager and a hard worker.  Smart too.  He would trust him with his life and not just because he had to.

“All clear at the North and East entrances,” Rowan murmured in his coms.

At his words he watched as Hernandez led a group of her soldiers through the street to the building in question.  Rowan had seen at least three targets circle back to the building over the course of the night, each either carrying something or pushing a cart.  The thing was, this area was family dense.  Someone could simply be transporting food or extra blankets or wanting to move in the dark without being seen.  

Then why had the man beside him tried to attack him?

Rowan watched and listened as Hammel ordered the entrance.  Half of the squad took the front and Gavriel led the others through the back.  It would play out like it always did: orders to stand down, not to move, don’t resist, watch the west side.

It was how it should have gone.

“Front’s still clear,” Rowan said into his coms, “Redline, what’s your status?”

Talbot remained silent.

“Redline?” Rowan repeated.  He switched to the mainline for the rest of the squad just in case the network was fritzing. “Talbot, check in.”

There was a flicker to the north side of the building the squad was raiding.  Rowan turned his scope in that direction and adjusted his sights.

“Lionheart we’ve got a bogie to the north, Redline is unresponsive.”

“Roger that,” Gavriel responded. “Keep your eyes open, White Hawk.”

Rowan tried to ignore the feeling in his gut that grew with every passing second.  Something was wrong.  He didn’t know what it was, but it was damn near palpable.  Talbot never went radio silent.  Not like this.  Hell, he had to remind the kid to stop talking when they were on stakeouts.  But Talbot was still responsible.  He knew his duties and he did them well.  

For one, brief moment, Rowan considered leaving his post and looking for the kid.  But with Maeve and Hammel watching, he knew he couldn’t.  All he could do was hope the kid showed up. Maybe his radio disconnected and he just hadn’t noticed.  Or he didn’t charge it properly before the mission.  It had happened once before.  Or--

“White Hawk?” Talbot’s quiet voice crackled through Rowan’s radio.

Thank the fates. “Where the hell have you been, kid?  I’ve been--”

“Found something,” Talbot cut in.  His voice was still distorted with a bad connection, static fizzing and popping horribly. “Had to make sure,” a loud pop of static, “something’s wrong, can’t reach Lionheart.”

“Repeat that, Redline, you’re breaking up,” Rowan said.  He kept his sights trained on where he’d seen the flicker of movement, knowing Gavriel was keeping tabs on the other side of the homestead they were raiding.  As far as Rowan could tell there was just a flickering curtain he’d already cleared.  And a flash of silver but given this part of the village that shouldn’t be a concern.  He’d noticed something similar, but it flicked so irregularly that he decided it was nothing important.  Morse code wasn’t universal, but Rowan knew most codes various countries used and there was no discernible pattern that he could note.

“Rowan,” Talbot’s voice finally rang clear and strong. 

“Talbot--Danny,” Rowan sighed, relieved. “What happened?”

“Think I was spotted,” Talbot said, “I came back around to see where the bogie came from.  Saw something weird.  Rowan, we gotta pull out.”

“Hold on kid.”  Rowan did a sweep of the surrounding area but didn’t see anything.  “Where are you?”

“North.  There’s a few Kovac soldiers dragging boxes around,” Talbot said as the static returned. “Rowan…I think they’re smugglers not--”

Talbot was cut off by something crashing on his end followed by a shout in another language.

“Talbot?” Rowan shifted, drawing one hand to his commlink and pressing it into his ear, as if that would help with the connection. When no response came Rowan switched frequencies. “Lionheart, we’ve got a situation.  I think Redline found trouble.”

There was a pause and a round of muffled voices before Gavriel responded.

“Copy,” Gavriel finally replied. “We’ve got it under control here, I’ll send Fenrys--”

“There’s no time,” Rowan said, nerves spiking despite how hard he was working to control himself.

Rowan was up and moving before the captain finished speaking.  He made sure to stay low and keep his position as uncompromised as possible.  The hot air whipped around him digging sand between his skin and the straps of his goggles.  Sweat trickled down his back as he moved.  Even at night the heat was unbearable.  

The discomfort all but faded from Rowan’s mind as he ran down the dusty trail than wound down from his snipers nest.  Underbrush crunched beneath his feet and sand picked up in thick plumes.  Rowan hardly noticed.  In a matter of minutes he was down from the bluffs and in the near empty streets.  He hardly noticed the weight of his rifle in his hands as he ducked behind the wall of a small home.  There was nothing to indicate any potential danger.  

He slipped around the corner keeping his gun ready and eyes open.  Nothing.  Nothing but the wind picking up and the sound of scattering debris.

“Whitethorn, what are you doing?” Gavriel demanded through the comms.

Rowan ignored him as he sprinted down the road to the building he last saw Talbot clear.  He was closing in by the yards, slipping behind doorways or abandoned carts when he thought he saw something.  He didn’t dare try and contact Talbot in case his radio crackled, giving him away.

On cat's feet, Rowan darted the last stretch of road to where he’d last clocked Talbot.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary--no extra footsteps, no strange sights.  All there was, was the faint, sweet scent of almonds.  But then it dissipated.  

Rowan was about to risk radioing Talbot just to see if he saw anything, or if he’d changed location when the first shot rang out.

The singular pop echoed through the otherwise silent night.

And Rowan felt his heart seize.

Time passed too slow as he dropped all pretense of stealth.  Another gunshot rang out as Rowan pushed himself harder through the streets.  He threw open the door of the house Talbot was checking.  Through his radio he heard Hammel and Gavriel both yelling at him.  The first to stand down the second to report.

Rowan focused only on his steps, his breathing, the tight turn around a corner and the body he found slumped against the wall.

Blood smeared in an aftershadow against the dark wood and already began trickling down in a slow, slow pull.

“Man down,” Rowan said into his radio, “medic needed.”

His voice was strangely calm as he said the words.  

His body too as he dropped down beside Talbot.  Already there was a pool of blood forming beneath the other man.  How, with all the layers Talbot was wearing, was that possible?  Rowan wouldn’t let himself think of the implications.

“Talbot,” he said, pressing his hands over the first entry wound he saw, hot blood wrapped around his fingers. “Talbot, look at me!”

With a groan and a cough, Talbot’s eyes fluttered open. “What’re y’doing, Whitethorn?”

“Applying pressure, you idiot,” Rowan said. “You’re gonna be fine, alrigh’?”

Talbot tried to laugh and Rowan pretended it wasn’t blood pooling at the corners of his mouth.

“Two gunshot wounds, gut ‘nd chest.  I’m not…I’m not--”

“Shut up,” Rowan growled, “I said you’re gonna be fine.”

His radio was going off with demands for answers, the eta of a medic, the call for a pull back.  Rowan ignored it all.  He should have been able to respond to some of the calls, should have multi-tasked, but all he could do was apply pressure to the wounds hemorrhaging blood and the way Talbot’s face quickly became ashen.

“Just talk to me, alright, kid?” he said. “What happened? We had the clear.”

Talbot’s head lolled to the side, eyes bleary as he tried to focus. “I saw him.”

“Who?  Who’d you see?”  Where was the medic?

“Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, he shouldn’t be here,” Talbot continued.  He weakly raised a hand to latch on to Rowan’s wrist. “Rowan--”

He had no idea what Talbot was going on about.  The slur of his words, the confusion--none of it was good.  Rowan pressed harder on the wounds, blood hot even as the beat of Talbot’s heart stuttered.

“We’re gonna get you fixed up,” Rowan said, “then you're gonna go home and see your mom, alright?  I’ll come visit, you can show me all there is to see.  Like that county fair, yeah?”

“It ain’t shit,” Talbot laughed, falling into a wet cough. Rowan held him down. “You should go to the mountains.  The mountains--”

Rowan’s radio crackled.  Medic on route.  They should have already been here.

“You gotta do something for me Rowan,” Talbot said, his voice growing too weak. “You gotta tell my family--”

“Tell them yourself.”

“Tell them, I’m so-sorry.”

Rowan stared down at his friend.  Slowly, the rest of the world came back.  The too hot air and metallic tang of blood.  The shouts in the distance.  The decrepit creak of wood where they sat.  There was noise and chaos in a world that just kept moving and Rowan…and Rowan…

“It’s gonna be fine,” Talbot whispered.

And then he was gone.

And Rowan had blood on his hands.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

tags still aren't working for me so if you'd reblog for more people to see this update, I'd really appreciate it. as always, i'm so grateful for ya'll <3

[writtenonreceipts]

WIP Wednesday

Today was a weird day, haha. So, why not join in on wip weds?

The only thing that really bothered him was ignoring the various texts and calls now that he was letting his phone remain charged up.  He’d only done it to keep Aelin appraised of his watching Meirithat one night.  And then, for some reason, he left the damn thing on and charged ever since.   Aelin only sent him a few messages during the day.  Mostly simple reminders to eat something.  And then a few updates on Emrys as well.  Rowan didn’t tell Aelin he’d given Malakai his number already.  He didn’t want to run the risk of her not messaging as often as she did. Which he realized made him a miserable ass, but he already knew that.

[writtenonreceipts]

snippets for a saturday

“Well, I’m running out of ways to cut her pancakes so a revolution may be on our hands.”  Aelin settled back on her elbows, letting the warm summer breeze cool her sweaty skin.  She had a few water bottles at the ready and would call Meiri back soon to make sure she was getting enough to drink.

“Dragons and aliens?” Rowan suggested.

“Done and done.  Poorly.” Aelin grinned. “I am a failure of a mother for that, according to Meiri.  No amount of syrup was enough to save it.  Emrys is better at pancakes than me.”

Rowan shook his head, running a hand over his mouth as he failed to hide his amusement.

[writtenonreceipts]

hi there! Trick or treat! 🍂🍁🎃

wishing you a wonderful november :))

today was stupid, ahaha! hopefully november is the plot twist we all (mostly me) need <3

imma go off about wwb wwg.

I made an outline so we are projecting about 25 chapters. Though, the last 4 chapters are single words ie "climax" "climax pt2" "after math" soooo some things could go mixy mixy there. I still know how I want things to go and know what the main rising action is and how we're ending...it's just very vague on paper.

But, it was a lot of fun to get a lot of these ideas on the page that I've been thinking about since the start of the fic. Especially these next few chapters have been fun to make notes about an everything. I have a scene in the "all is lost" beat that is going to be so good. I think...it was after I wrote part 2 or three that I skipped ahead to this confrontation scene of sorts between a Rowan and [SPOILER] and it just brought everything together so well and helped me see how I wanted to write this story. It's been a little easier writing with the ending in mind, slow of course, but I can see a bit clearer how this story will continue to play out.

This next chapter especially, I am really excited about. It's...it's been one I've wanted to write and see on page for a while and it's going to HURT. It's big for character and emotion. I've got it written, it just needs revisions and the flashback needs some more expansion on the grounding details.

anyway.

snippet?

Which was probably why he was currently distracting himself at Sartaq’s garage.

It was a late Friday afternoon with the usual summer heat and bright sunlight banking through the open doors.  Rowan was staring down into a nearly obliterated radiator and hose tear wondering just how poorly this car had been treated in the past when Sartaq finally broached a topic he’d much rather had avoided.

They’d both served in Kovac, but Sartaq for such a short time and Rowan busy in sniper training that they’d never met or heard of the other.  Sartaq also hadn’t been in a position that could also lead him to potential harm.  Family strings and all.  Rowan didn’t begrudge the man for that--as far as he could tell, Sartaq would have been in the front lines even now if his family would allow it.  To keep him from getting himself killed his wealthy parents let him land in Terrasen fixing up old cars.

[writtenonreceipts]

More random snippets!

She didn’t know why she cared. Or maybe it was unease and a cold shift of distrust. She remembered nights when Arrobyn would come back late and she had no idea what mood he’d be in. It usually wasn’t the best mood and often led to fights.

Which was why Aelin shouldn’t let herself care about Rowan. Because he didn’t need it. He didn’t need her nagging him or worrying. He probably loathed it anyway.

[writtenonreceipts]

Unedited nonsesne that probably wont even make the final cut of wwb wwg:

Sweat pooled along his limbs before rolling down his skin.  The night had been cool enough that he’d been comfortable enough, but there was already a shift on the air as the sun rose.  Already he was sweating.  Already he was feeling that dull ache in his bones of note moving.  

“White Hawk,” a voice said in his comm, “do you copy?”

Rowan clicked his response, grateful the speaker couldn’t see him.  [Redacted] was hardly Rowan’s favorite person and even just hearing his callsign on the man's tongue had his skin grating.

[writtenonreceipts]

Guess who had 2k words of wwb, wwg written and decided to rewrite the whole update 🥲🤡

It's me.

[writtenonreceipts]

Finally working on the next Where We've Been Where We're going update!

Which also has me itching to try making a playlist for it. So if you read it and have any songs you associate with it or anything like that...send them my way?

[writtenonreceipts]

so, tumblr isn’t showing the update for "where we’ve been where we’re going" in the rowaelin tags and i’m not in the mood for seeing it flopping right now.

if you want a head start on the update, head to ao3 here

otherwise i’ll try again in a day or two. if you saw it/got a notif, no you didn’t...

[writtenonreceipts]

Hi hope your weekend is going well!

Just wanted to say I absolutely love all of your single parent AUs. Do you plan to continue them??

Hey nonny! My week was pretty good! Spent mostly trying to keep warm 🤣

Thank you so much for reading! I'm glad you like these fics, I love single parent aus a lot lol.

I do plan on continuing them. I just have bitten off a little more than I can chew right now. I've started a lot of new projects it feels like so I am a little overwhelmed which is entirely my fault. And then feeling like I'm not meeting those goals/no one reading what I do post.

Any ways!

WWB, WWG-- I have the plot narrowed in, and I have most of the next chapter written. I am just struggling with transitions and making sure I don't ignore certain characters.

An Intimate Display-- I'm going to try to get the next part out sometime this month. Fingers crossed.

Square One-- lol. Yeah. It's definitely been a while....

[writtenonreceipts]

Trick or treat 🎃

...trick!...

“Whitehawk?” Talbot’s quiet voice crackled through Rowan’s radio.

Thank the fates. “Where the hell have you been, kid?  I’ve been--”

“Found something,” Talbot cut in.  His voice was still distorted with a bad connection, static fizzing and popping horribly. “Had to make sure,” a loud pop of static, “something’s wrong, can’t reach Lionheart.”

>>trick or treat<<

[writtenonreceipts]

I know I said I’d update today, but I just can’t get in the editing/writing mindset, so here’s a snippet:

The apartment was quiet as she worked with only the distant sound of the heating system coming on.  Outside the living room window she noticed that it was snowing.  The first snowfall of the season.�� She wished she could go out there and bask in it.  There was something so comforting about the snow and the silence that accompanied it.  While she didn’t like being cold, Aelin could appreciate the beauty of these winter months.

But she had too much to worry about right now.

She tried to focus on the fact that she’d gotten the laundry done already and that the bathroom had been scrubbed.  And by some miracle, she’d premade a green salad just before going to lie down.

See?  She could do this right.

[writtenonreceipts]

If anyone is interested, here is the Mass Fic Update Line-Up:

Where We’ve Been, Where We’re Going (Rowaelin)

An Intimate Display (Feysand)

Distance* (Rowaelin)

The Things We Cannot Say (Feysand)

Hey Neighbor* (Rowaelin)

Howling Moon (Feysand)

The Lady in the Water (Nessian) oops surprise, it’s still mermay

If there is one of my on going fics that you’d like to see updated that isn’t listed above, please let me know.  These are the only ones I could think of that hold any interest to most of y’all.  Well, WWB WWG is me being selfish, I know it’s not a favorite for anyone lol.  But, in any case, let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see! I’ll probably keep posting snippets until we are officially ready to roll.

*-caveat being I only have an outline/idea of the update, the others are either already started or completed and just need some edits.  Also, these may not be posted in the order that they appear here.

[writtenonreceipts]

Already have a mini series planned out for rowaelin month. And then gonna work in as much wwb wwg for the prompts as I can.

Oh and angst.

😀