#Chaol would be the best dad

[emeriethevalkyriegirl]

Chaol's Adventures in Babysitting

Summary: Chaol has to deal with young Caleena and Dorian.

A/N: I'm gonna make this absolutely clear. Whatever happened during the first 2 books of Throne of Glass never happened. No love triangle between are 3 favorite protagonists. Chaol is 25 and Caleena is 1 year older than Dorian (6 and 7). Everything else will be explained in the story. Enjoy!

Chaol was pissed.

No, pissed was an understatement. He was furious. Of all the things for Caleena and Dorian to do, they decide to do THIS!?

Lemme take you back to 2 hours ago. Chaol, the general of the Royal Guard, had intrusted his best lieutenant, Kale, to watched the crown prince and his friend. Normally, it was his, or the Head Maid's job to watch the children, but the Head Maid was on mandatory bed rest after twisting her ankle on a step stool and Chaol's schedule was packed with nothing but daily routines. So, as a last minute change, he put Kale in charge of the children.

He still remembered the look on Caleena and Dorian's faces. They were not pleased.

Especially not Caleena. When the King and Queen found her on the streets just a year ago, she was small and frail, shaking like a leave. When the Queen asked her her name, she began to cry. The Queen quickly scooped the little frighten girl in her arms and from that moment on, she was part of the Hallivard family.

She didn't like the adjustment at first, but once she met Dorian, she was a wild child. She and Dorian got into all kinds of trouble. Tearing up all the pages in their history books from their homeschool classes. Slouching in their chairs at the dinner table. Stealing candy from the candy store, causing them to stay up all night and jump on the bed constantly.

It wasn't until their last mishap, (running around the castle naked because neither of them wanted to take a bath), that the King and Queen needed a disciplinary matter for the two of them. So, they sent in their most trusted General.

Chaol Westfall.

He served the crown for over 10 years, having started at 15 years old. He knew the ins and outs of being a guard. He knew how to fight. He knew how to carry a body. He knew how to take down 3 armed burglars while blindfolded. He was pretty sure that watching two kids wasn't gonna be much of a problem.

Oh, how wrong he was. Watching Dorian was a piece of cake. He was kind, helpful, and loyal to his people. It was Caleena he was worried about. The poor man almost broke his arm from nearly being jumped on by that girl. Literally. The King and Queen had informed him that Caleena had a rough life and was still coping over the fact that she never had to go back there. Even though, they knew that she was only acting this way because of her life style, they knew that she had to learn how to live in this new life. Whether be the easy or the hard way.

Chaol never like using physical discipline on kids, but if his mother had never done it to him, he'd still be half drunk at the bar at 7 in the morning. So, that's what he did. When Caleena refused to have her bath, Chaol merely took her back to her chambers and gave her his belt. He knew he was strong and that his belt was even stronger, so he made extra sure to only slash her on her bum and that she would have any special cream so that it could heal.

Caleena was completely surprised that day. She didn't cry, much to Chaol's surprise, but she did let a whimper slip. The blond girl fell silent with the General was finished, though she was ready for another round. She wasn't afraid to be beaten, but something about Chaol's was different. More...gentle.

Still, she didn't wanna have another round with him that night, so she apologized to the maid that was tasked to bathe her and took her bath. She didn't speak to Chaol the day after, too afraid to do the slightest thing wrong. It wasn't until he explained to her that, it was necessary, while also adding that if it was too much, he would only result to less physical punishments instead.

From that point on, both Caleena and Dorian behaved. Still, they have a few more rounds with the belt, but it wasn't as often as before. Caleena was still the wild child of the Hallivards and Dorian was still very kind and sweet, but Chaol still loved them anyway, even if they drove him, the staff, and the King and Queen crazy.

However, in this case, a belt would be beneficial for those little brats.

It's his own fault really. He should've known that those two were gonna break Kale. They broke him a few times (not that he'll ever admit that).

Before he'd left to go to his tasks, he strictly told both the kids and Kale that they were not to leave their room. Normally, they were free to roam around the castle, but today, an attack had issued in their hometown and the whole city has been on edge. The King and Queen didn't wanna risk the safety of Dorian and Caleena, so Chaol had to watch them today. Or at least that's what he would be doing if the other guards hadn't need his assistance.

Kale nodded and gave his a salute before he looked at the kids, their displeased expressions still reading the room. He didn't have time for this. With one last glance at the 6 and 7 year old, Chaol turned his heal and left.

Throughout the day, Chaol was called to many other places in the city to tend to people and their families. The day went by in a flash, but once the moon was high in the sky, the real hell broke loose.

All it took was one glance. One glance at his lieutenant that he found in the dark alley, looking around like he was searching for something very important. Chaol had a very distinct feeling that he already knew what this was about. By the time the General caught up with him, Kale was shaking with fear, barely able to explain to him that he only lost Dorian and Caleena for a second. Chaol facepalmed, saving his anger for when he found them.

He didn't have to look far though, when he saw two tiny hooded figures just a block away from them. He couldn't see their faces, but he heard the girl's giggles.

Reassuring that Kale wasn't going to loose his job, Chaol made his way over to the kids and took off their hoods. Neither Dorian nor Caleena looked guilty for sneaking out of the castle, their smiles lighting up the night of the city. It almost made Chaol want to spare them from his rath.

Almost.

Their smiles dropped, noticing that their favorite guard was fuming, his glare practically crushing any hope of them making it back home without sore bum. "You two have 5 seconds to explain to me why I shouldn't whip you this very moment." Chaol growled, Dorian and Caleena literally shaking under their cloaks. "Um...we..uh-"

"W-We j-just-"

"I'm running out of patience, here." Chaol said, as a matter of fact. When neither of them chose to explain, Chaol began to unbuckle his belt. The kids backed a step, knowing what was coming next. "W-Wait, please!"

"Should've thought about that before-"

"General!" Chaol stopped short, hearing a familiar voice. Lance, his corporal. "Sorry to disrupt you...schedule, but we've captured a suspect of the attack." Shit.

With a groan, Chaol tightened his belt and turned his attention to Lance. "I'll be there shortly." Once the corporal left, his eyes fell on the kids again. He knew they deserved this, but he also knew that it was late and he was in desperate need of a drink. He'll worry about them later.

Chaol called out to Kale, ordering him to send the kids back to the room. He knew they'll obey this time. Cause they also knew what will happen if they didn't.

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

Once the General had finished everything on his list, he was free for the night. Around this time, the kids should be in bed, but he'd been around Dorian and Caleena enough to know that that wasn't the case.

When the King and Queen spoke of their son and their adopted daughter, the General told them about the events that happened during the afternoon, not mentioning their little adventure at all. He didn't know why he didn't say anything. Guess his stupid heart had a soft spot for them.

Now out of his uniform, Chaol made his way to the door, finding Kale standing outside the room. The lieutenant recognized his General right away. "Any trouble?"

"Nah. They were as quiet as mice." Good. Chaol dismissed Kale, ending his shift an hour early as he watched the man make his way downstairs, probably heading toward the bar where the other off duty guards were.

Chaol knocked on the door. "Caleena, Dorian?" he asked with a surprisingly amount of calmness. He heard a few shuffle sounds from the room and some muffled voices, telling him that the kids were still wide awake.

Opening the door, Chaol stroud in, finding Dorian and Caleena both 'asleep'. Chaol was not fooled. Closing the door behind him, the General made his way to the bed and folded his arms. He wasn't angry anymore. No, his anger was wasted on the suspect his guards found earlier. Now, he was just disappointed. "I know you're awake." he said. No movement. Not even a stir.

He knew what to do. "Alright. I'll let your parents know that you snuck out today."

"NO!" Dorian was up in an instant, Caleena opening her eyes in shock. Both kids were now even more frighten than they were before. Chaol bit back a smirk. "I didn't think so." The kids blushed, embarrassed that they fell for his trap.

Chaol sighed, not wanting to leave the kids on a bad note tonight. "I'm not mad." The kids, caught off guard by Chaol's comment, gave the tired General their full attention. "You're not?"

"Well, not anymore." Chaol continued. "But I am very disappointed in you both." The kids looked away, their guilt finally showing on their faces. "When I tell you to do something, you do it. No matter what. Understand?" Chaol didn't yell no shout, but his voice was filled with authority. Something he only used on his guards.

When the kids nodded, he sighed and shook his head. "You scared me tonight you know that?" he randomly pointed out, taking a seat on the bed. Caleena chuckled, the General raising his brow at the blond. "Sorry." she replied. "But, you're not scared of anything."

"Yeah. You're like, the King of Guards. Nothing scares you." Dorian added. Now, it was Chaol's turn to chuckle. He loved how naive these two were. He always resented them for it, having lost that side of him when his parents died. "Yeah well, I was today."

Chaol felt Dorian crawl over to him, resting his head on his lap. The General's heart warmed at the touch. "Something could've happened to any of you. I thought I-" Chaol stopped short, not wanting to finish that thought.

The kids looked at him, wondering why he stopped mid-sentence. When Chaol refused to speak, Caleena made her way to his other side, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Chaol. Don't cry." Chaol was about to ask her why she thought he was crying until a drop of water fell on his jeans.

Damn

He must've brought up some bad memories.

Wiping his eyes, Chaol gave the 7 year old a sweet smile and ruffled her hair. "Hey, you're not going sappy on me now, are ya LeeLee?" Chaol teased as Caleena pouted at the nickname. Dorian giggled, knowing that the nickname annoyed her. Caleena stuck her tongue out, making Dorian do the same. "Hey, knock it off you two." Chaol said, dancing his fingers all over the kids' bellies.

Very rarely did Chaol act like this. When his parents had died, he felt nothing. Just went completely numb for years. By the time he was 15, he was issued into the Royal Guard. Years of discipline straighten him out, but his heart was still as cold as ice. When he met the kids, he didn't know it yet, but his heart was melting little by little each day he had to watch them. And during one of those days when they played, they practically begged him to join them (after threatening to run away of course). The General agreed, making the mischievous children promise to keep their mouths shut. Now, every chance he got, the General would play with the kids, forming an ever lasting bond with the two of them.

Their joyous laughter filled his heart with warmth and light. He smirked, watching them try and fail desperately to swat his giant hands away. "Stop it!" Caleena laughed, as Chaol leaned back, his entire body (save for his legs) now on the large bed. The royal children's laughter continued, crawling their way back to him. "Chaol, get up!"

"Too tired. You have to carry me." Chaol joke, laying limp on the mattress. "But you're too fat!" Dorian teased, as the General quickly grabbed both children and rolled onto his stomach, trapping the giggling gremlins under him. "I'll show you fat." That was the only warning the children received before Chaol resumed his tickle attack.

Chaol was right in the middle of giving Caleena a raspberry when he heard someone clearing their throat from the door. Chaol stopped immediately, recognizing the voice, the children still having their last fit of giggles.

A woman lean against the door frame wearing a maid uniform with the royal crest. Yrene Towers. She looked at Chaol with a smug expression, her arms crossed over her chest. "Am I interrupting something?" she chimed, as she watched her boyfriend hopped off the bed so fast, she almost mistaken him for a rabbit. By the time he turned to face her, he was already blushing. "N-No, not at all."

"You sure? You looked like you were in the middle of a tickle fight." Yrene replied, walking further into the room. Chaol didn't know what embarrassed him more. The fact that someone caught him playing with the kids, or the fact that the person who caught him was none other then his girlfriend.

Chaol opened his mouth to speak, but Dorian beat him to it. "He was gonna torture us. And make us do homework."

"And eat veggies!" Caleena added. Chaol turned to grab for the little gremlins, but they moved out of the way of his reach. Yrene gave out a dramatic gasp, placing her hand over her heart. "Oh no, not the veggies. General Chaol, have thou no soul?" Laughter filled the room once more, as Yrene wrapped her arms around Chaol's neck. With a smirk, he wrapped his arms around her waist as she spoke. "I didn't see you in the main hall."

"I was occupied~"

"I can see that~" Yrene replied, her lips just grasping Chaol's before the General felt something soft collide at the back of his head. The General and the maid heard a chorus of giggles before they noticed Dorian and Caleena looking off to the side while trying (and failing) to hide a pillow behind their backs.

"Could you excuse me for a moment?" Chaol didn't wait for a response before he hoisted the kids in the air, catching them when gravity took over. "If you two don't go to bed," Chaol tried to sound serious, but his smile did not falter.

Placing the kids back on the bed, Chaol watched as they tucked themselves in. "Go to sleep. You have homeschool tomorrow."

"Awww." the kids whined as Chaol heard Yrene laugh. Giving the kids one last goodbye, Chaol and Yrene wished them sweet dreams and exited the room, the new guard already at his post for the night. "You know you love them." Yrene smirked, kissing her boyfriend's cheek. She was right. He did.

[acourtofquestions]

TOWER OF DAWN SPOILER ALERT

OH MY WORD

ITS LYSANDRAS FATHER isn’t it

Update:

OH MY WORD IT IS

Updated Update: OH MY WORD I HAD IT WRONG HES HER… UNCLE??

But still…

Wait… Does that mean her father’s alive??

I can’t keep track of the updates but I’m pretty sure Nesryn just put the pieces together and almost said it

Mostly just my mind is blown twice in less than 2 chapters… I have no coherency… just… wow

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, seventy

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: Chapter seven-fucking-zero. Let the rain fall down. Holy shit. Here we go.

The four-flight descent from the master suite down to the kitchen was torturous. She was annoyingly in tune with Rowan. She could feel the slightest flick of his eyes, every time he opened his mouth and then shut it tight again, the change in his gait every time he slowed his pace to walk more in time with her — but all it did was twist the rusty knife in her side, spreading her pain with each shallow breath.

As they rounded the corner of the last flight, Rowan’s hand swung so that it brushed against her knuckles, and she couldn’t help but snatch her hand away, resting in front of her waist and far, far, far from his possible grasp. Gods, she was not going to be able to keep it together during this dinner. And it was only their second day of vacation. And her friends weren’t idiots. They’d surely notice something was amiss.

She was wondering how to best keep them in the dark about her current subject of ire when Rowan slid into the seat between Chaol and Dorian at the far end of the table. His eyes flashed with such hurt that it re-sparked the bolt of anger swirling inside her. Where did he get off pretending like he was the hurt party between the two of them?

“Uh ohhhh…” Dorian chuckled as his bright eyes flicked between both ends of the table. “Mom and dad are fighting.”

Everyone around them laughed, but Aelin couldn’t even muster up a smile, and Rowan’s brow furrowed further.

“We’re fine,” Aelin forced herself to say, but she was so not fine. She barely enjoyed the multi-course meal that her friends had spent so long preparing. Based on the sounds everyone else was making, she was sure it was delicious, but she couldn’t even taste it through the iron of her anger. She made sure to “mmm” in all the right moments, but she was grateful that no one engaged in real conversation with her because she wasn’t sure she listened a single word that was said the whole time. Instead, her anger grew into new fiery magnitudes as she sat and watched Rowan pout.

The fire sparked more as Rowan excused himself halfway through their after-dinner movie to go upstairs to shower and never returned. Why was he the one allowed to pout? And as the flames flickered, heating her all the way through, Aelin was blessed with a genius idea. If he wanted to pout, she’d give him something real to pout about.

She stood, resolved in her plan, and she swore that Manon’s eyes were glowing as she smirked devilishly.

“Give him hell, babe.”

And she would. Aelin felt lighter than she had in hours as she made her way back up to their bedroom, fully resolved.

As she predicted, Rowan’s eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn’t asleep. This was part of his pouting process. His freshly showered hair was still damp over his strained brows as he muttered lowly to himself. She knew he heard her enter because his muttering paused, but he barely cracked an eye open as she went to her suitcase and pulled her nightgown from the bottom and took it into the bathroom to change.

Nightgown was perhaps too polite a word to describe the thin scrap of a garment she’d brought with her. It was indecent, was what it was. Aelin pulled the lacy fabric over her head and pulled it down and gasped. The it clung to her every curve, showing off the parts of her body that were (barely) covered by its low neckline and even shorter hem. Her skin seemed to glow in contrast to the delicate pink lace, which looked nearly transparent beneath the fluorescent lights overhead. Her anger had momentarily subsided, replaced with a burning confidence. She looked incredible.

Taking a deep inhale, she swung the door open and moved across the room to discard her other clothes into the plastic bag she’d designated for laundry. Despite not sparing him a glance, she could feel the exact second Rowan’s eyes opened and spotted her. As she bent lower, she could practically hear him choke on his own inhale.

“Wh-what’s that?” he asked, and she had to bite back her grin as she looked over her shoulder as innocently as she could.

“Oh, this?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes ravenous as he scanned her barely clothed form. She bit back another smile as he sat up further, arms crossed over his bare chest.

“It’s a nightgown.” She paused and widened her eyes for effect. “It’s cute, right?”

He practically wheezed as he shook his head. “Is there not… a bottom half?”

Aelin noted his hands balling into fists, grasping at the sheets below him as he attempted to relax into the pillow behind him, turning out the lights in the room one by one until the only one remaining was on the table beside him. His eyes tracked her the entire time.

“Nope,” she said. “It’s so much hotter here than at home, and you know I hate sweating when I sleep, so I brought a few with me.”  

His eyes burned hotter with desire as she hoisted herself onto the bed and crawled over to him. His eyes lowered to her chest where the front of the nightgown was gapping slightly, and his jaw was loose as she crawled closer.

“I didn’t know you had—clothing like that.” As she finally reached his side of the bed, he brushed his finger against the lace, and recoiled quickly, as if the fabric had burned him. “And you have more?”

“Nightgowns?”

He grunted an affirmative.

“Yup.”

Rowan visibly gulped.

“I know we need to talk, but can we table it for night?” she asked, leaning even closer to him.  

“You want to table it?” he asked, his hand reaching out slightly between them, ghosting against the skin of her thigh.

He looked so overcome with lust and desire that she almost felt bad as she reached across him, pressing her curves against his bare chest.  

“Mmhmm,” she said, batting her eyes at him, loving the dazed expression that overtook his face in reaction. “I’m sooooo tired.”

“Tired?”

His lusty expression was blanketed in sudden darkness as she reached past him and turned his tableside lamp off.

“Night, Ro.”

She rolled to her side, her bare back and most of her butt exposed to him, and for a few seconds there was only the sound of rustling sheets as she nestled down. She thought they were finished talking for the night when Rowan spoke up again, “What other colors did you bring?”

Aelin smiled to herself. “Why? What colors do you want to see?”

“All of them,” he said. “Green…gold...” She heard him roll to his back and turn his face to the ceiling, both of them falling into a silence so thick with tension she felt itchy. She could practically feel Rowan’s desire through the dark, practically hear his teeth grinding with frustration.

It wasn’t until thirty minutes later, when she heard him slip out of bed and turn on an extremely cold shower, that her eyes finally fell closed and sleep overtook her.

. . .

The next morning, Aelin awoke early again, but this time to an empty bed. The room felt cold and dark, especially with the ominous grey clouds threatening to open up and pour hanging outside the window. Ugh. Guess they’d be looking at some indoor activities today.

Whereas Aelin had awoken filled with inspiration and creativity yesterday, she felt bogged down in her own frustrations today. Her taunting nightgown had done its job, but she didn’t feel any better. And she certainly didn’t enjoy waking up without Rowan, despite how mad at him she was. Which… she was. Still. Very mad.

The house was quiet as she threw on some sweats and grabbed her journal. Despite how much drama it had caused — well, it hadn’t caused any drama, really, it was an inanimate object who had no agency but still — she had really enjoyed revisiting it. Journaling was a rare opportunity for self-reflection and solitude, and she enjoyed being able to just let whatever she was feeling come out through her words.

She was just finishing her cup of coffee when Aedion staggered into the kitchen. He overfilled a large mug of his own coffee and slumped across the table from Aelin.

Aelin snorted. “Rough night?”

Aedion glared up at her. “You could say that.”

“In Dorian’s bed?” she asked, but Aedion’s eyeroll shut that down quickly.

“I wish,” he groaned. “Alas, I was up all night watching Golden Girls with your surly boyfriend.”

“What?”

Well, that had Aelin’s attention.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. He didn’t tell me anything.” He paused. “He’s not really a man of many words, is he?”

Aelin shrugged. “So, you just sat and watched tv together all night?”

Aedion nodded. “Pretty much.” He gestured toward the family room. “I went back to bed when he finally passed out… like… two hours ago? But my stupid brain wakes me up at the same time every day, no matter what, so I’m up again.”

“I’m sorry,” Aelin apologized.

But Aedion simply shrugged. “It was weird, but kinda nice to have the company. I’m usually up all night alone.”

Aelin knew Aedion well enough to knew that was a prompt. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She reached her hand forward and laced fingers with his and squeezed. Her superhero of a cousin had always seemed larger than life to her, and to see the dark circles stained beneath his eyes… well, she knew there was more lurking underneath than just his brush off answer of not sleeping.

He was opening his mouth to answer when Lysandra, Manon, and Elide made their way into the kitchen.

“Later,” he said, pulling his hand back and raising his mug in greeting to the newcomers.

“So, it’s pretty gross out there,” Lysandra said, wrinkling up her nose in annoyance as she poured her coffee. “There’s an arcade pretty nearby with a million indoor activities — laser tag, blacklight bowling, batting cages, bumper cars, and approximately a hundred arcade games, but it’s supposed to rain on and off for the rest of the week, so, it might be jumping the gun to go there immediately.”

“I don’t mind staying here,” Elide said, eyeing Manon like a piece of dessert and making Aelin’s heart pang with jealousy. That’s what she wanted to be doing all week. But stupid Rowan had to ruin it with his stupid lack of boundaries. Oh well, at least someone was utilizing this spring break week properly.

“Totes. And don’t think I didn’t clock that massive closet filled with games,” Aedion added. “A chill day with some board games?”

“DON’T TRUST HIM!” Aelin shouted, pointing at Aedion with an accusatory glare.

“What?”

“A chill day of board games?!” she asked, incredulous. “one is less chill about board games.”

“Except for you!” he laughed. “And she cheats.”

“Oh my god, are you ever going to get over that? Wagyu is in the Scrabble dictionary. We confirmed it,” she said, having had this fight with him approximately a million times in their lives.

“It’s a proper noun! It shouldn’t have counted!”

“Well then, neither should have margarita!”

“It’s a type of drink.”

“Just like wagyu is a type of beef,” Rowan interrupted, loafing into the kitchen with a tired smile. He rubbed at his messy hair and yawned loudly as he slid into the chair next to Aedion, nudging his arm gently. “It’s been at least five years. Can’t you let it go?”

Aedion grinned. “Never.”

She took a second to take in Rowan’s disheveled appearance, but his bloodshot eyes and haystack hair it did nothing to satisfier her. Instead, it made her want to shove her head against his chest and kiss his frown away. But she leaned back and stuck her tongue out at her cousin, irrationally annoyed at her own reaction to Rowan’s sudden appearance. She had been so proud of herself last night, but her hours of sleep had done nothing but make her weak against his presence. She needed to batten down her emotional hatches and prepare to push against him. Ugh.

Lysandra scoffed. “Okay, well, maybe let’s keep Scrabble in the closet.”

“Who’s in the closet?” Dorian asked as he rifled through the cabinet and pulled out a box of cookies and a tub of frosting. Without waiting for an answer, he tore open the package and dipped the cookie into the frosting, and popped it into his mouth.

“Ohhh, me too, me too,” Aelin reached out with grabby hands, knowing that a sugar rush was definitely the answer to her less than optimal mood. Dorian walked to the table and plopped the sweets in front of her, still hovering, so as not to leave the sweets on their own.

“Your metabolism is a medical marvel,” Aedion muttered.

“Thank you,” Dorian and Aelin replied in unison, causing them to break into giggles and dig into the frosting again.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, but Aelin didn’t fail to notice that she stole a cookie from the open container and dipped it into her coffee.

“So, what’d I miss?” Dorian asked through sugar-laden bites. “Something about a closet?”

“Board game closet,” Aedion clarified.

“Mmm, I’m more into video games.”

Lysandra went over to a side console and pulled the door open, revealing a neatly organized row of consoles. “We’ve got those, too.”

“Fuck yeah!” Dorian cheered far too loudly for most of the people who had just barely woken up. “Should we set up a tournament? Brackets?”

“So competitive,” Aedion smirked.

Manon pinched her nose and yawned exaggeratedly. “I’m not awake enough for this level of enthusiasm.” She yawned loudly as she grabbed Elide’s hand. “We’re going back to bed.”

Elide giggled as they both grabbed their coffees and headed off to bed to do anything but sleep. Aelin thougth that maybe Rowan would do the same thing, seeing as he had clearly not slept well, but he simply sat there quietly as Lysandra listed out all the games she had and asked who wanted to play what.

Chaol rolled out of bed midway through the discussion, helping them come up with an extreme game bracket for the day.

They started with a rousing game of Monopoly, which Aedion crushed (but only because he was a known cheater), then moved onto Clue where Chaol surprised them all by winning. But Rowan played quietly, studiously avoiding eye contact with Aelin and sitting as far away from her as possible. By the time they were halfway through the game of Life, she was fully furious at him again. Her anger was compounded by the occasional squeal of giggles that floated from across the house where Manon and Elide were still holed up, and Aedion and Dorian’s heavy-handed flirting. It wasn’t fair. She and Rowan had worked so hard to get to where they were, and they finally had a full unsupervised week and a giant king-sized bed and more nightgowns than she could possibly wear, and he was avoiding eye contact with her??? This was all his fault to begin with!

She channeled her anger as she sped around the Super Mario Cart track, throwing shell after shell at his Link, seeking out any kind of reaction.

“What the hell, Ace?” His eyes flashed at her furiously as Link fell off the track from spinning out on her well-placed banana.

His annoyance only fueled her further, focusing on smashing the bike her Princess Peach was riding against his car again and again.

“Hey!”

Rowan stood suddenly, using his entire body to try and smash her back.

“Uh, you guys know you’re supposed to be racing and not killing each other, right?” Lysandra asked as her Tanooki Mario (or Furry Mario as she referred to him as) zipped by them.

“Let them fight it out,” Aedion laughed, his Donkey Kong lapping the fighting pair again. Aelin hadn’t even noticed that she’d stood up and was shoulder to shoulder with Rowan as they fought each other, using whatever weapon they came across to throw at the other. She dodged his bomb, but his red shell hit Peach square in the face, knocking her off course. She retaliated by driving right into the back of his car, causing him to step closer and lean into her as they fought. The feel of his arm against hers gave her a shocking thrill, and she momentarily lost focus, letting him pull ahead of her. Not that their rankings mattered at this point; they were nearly a full lap behind everyone else.

“FUCK!” Rowan growled as Dorian’s Yoshi crossed the finish line. He threw down his controller with a loud whoop and danced around the coffee table, bragging about how he was the King of Kart, how no one would ever beat him.

“Again?” Rowan asked, eyeing Aelin, who nodded immediately.

Everyone else bowed out to go put together some lunch, but that was fine. Aelin and Rowan needed their alone time. It wasn’t quite like what she imagined their alone time would look like, but it was necessary nonetheless. She let him choose the racetrack, and he of course chose her nemesis: Rainbow Road.

“Fine by me,” she said.

Neither of them sat, aggressively pushing against each other as they whipped around the course.

“Get out of my way!” Aelin shouted, but Rowan was suddenly just as fired up as she was.

“Over my dead body, Princess!” he yelled back as Link narrowly avoided a rogue banana peel.

Aelin growled, flashing her teeth at him as she sped around the part of the course she knew best. She felt like she was flying, her heart soaring with each sharp turn and each coin she accumulated.

“Nooooo,” Rowan groaned as Aelin shoved against him, causing him to lose his concentration and fall behind. His thumbs fumbled on the controller, and Aelin used the moment of distraction to hit him with a shell and beat him by a mile to the finish line.

“HA!” she said, doing her own victory dance.

Rowan’s face scrunched into one of disdain as he flopped back onto the couch. He rubbed at his face and closed his eyes, his exhaustion zapping her of the thrill she felt from her win.

“Ace…” he said with a soft sigh. “Can we please talk?”

Her shoulders tensed and she shook her head.

“Please?”

“I’m still so mad at you, Ro,” she finally said, barely whispering.

“That’s why we should talk. Just, get it out.” He reached out and laced his fingers with hers. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

But he shook his head. “No, you’re not. And I did that. I know I did.”

She took a deep breath. “I can’t pretend like it’s fine. It’s not,” she said.

“But you’re not ready for me to apologize?” he asked. “I was up all night thinking about it, and…”

“I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“So, what, you’re just not going to talk to me for the rest of the week?”

She shrugged, her refusal to talk seeming nonchalant, even though pain tugged at her stomach each time she looked at his sad green eyes.

She didn’t know why she wasn’t, but even knowing that he wanted to apologize, she didn’t want to hear it. Maybe it’s that she knew she would cave immediately, and she wanted him to stew and understand just how badly he’d messed up. So, yeah. She was choosing to stay angry.

“Okay, well… let me know when you’re ready,” he said.

“I will.”

And though she knew they’d come to some sort of stalemate, a rough truce, it didn’t stop her from breaking out yet another nightgown as they made their way to bed that night. This one was a silky material that looked like molten gold, the soft fabric rippling as she strutted across the room. It was just as short as the pink lace number from the night before, but this one also had a low, low back. It seemed like it was barely held up, just above the swell of her ass by two delicate straps that she was sure Rowan could break with his teeth if he wanted to. The way it fell across her skin, it could have been painted on, barely concealing a thing.

Rowan’s eyes had never been wider as she unbound her hair, letting her blonde tresses fall down the naked expanse of her back. She could practically hear him gulp as she got into the bed beside him. His eyes flashed from her thigh to her back to the swell of her chest to the dip of her waist, unable to decide where to look.

“Ace… you look…” His eyes were wide and pained as he curled his hand into a fist, clenching and unclenching, as if he were aching to touch her. “Stunning. You’re a goddess.”

“Maybe we should have angry sex,” Aelin laughed, but Rowan didn’t look amused at all.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He paused and looked at her up and down, desire prickling every inch of her skin as he took his time taking her in.

“I’d settle for a kiss,” she said. “If you wanted to.”

He didn’t wait for any more direction, letting her pull his neck down and press her lips against his in a burning kiss. It’d barely been over twenty-four hours since their last kiss, but it felt like a thousand years, if their bodies’ reactions were any indication. Their mouths opened and tongues met as their fingers scratched at each others’ scalps, tugging harder and harder, until Aelin’s bare thigh was hitched around Rowan’s hip. She could feel him throbbing inside his shorts, and she couldn’t help but tilt her hips against him, rubbing like a cat, desperate to be pet. It was only when a wanton moan escaped her mouth that he reared back, jumping out of the bed with a start.

“Shit,” he breathed hard. “You’re far too tempting.”

He adjusted himself in his shorts and threw on a t-shirt.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“This parade of nightgowns is going to be break me,” he said, chuckling darkly. “I think I should sleep downstairs again.” He paused. “Unless you want to talk?”

Aelin’s lack of response was enough for him to know his instincts were right.

“Right,” he sighed. “See you in the morning.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before turning on his heel, leaving her alone, still breathless and wanting.

Hours later, Aelin was still staring at the ceiling, horribly awake. She was feeling that itchy sense of restlessness. No matter how long she closed her eyes for, she kept seeing the flash of hurt in Rowan’s face again and again, burning itself into her brain until she couldn’t keep her eyes closed any longer. Fuck this.

She tore the silly gold nightgown off and replaced it with some well-worn sweats before padding two floors down to where Aedion had been placed. Despite the late hour, the light was still shining beneath the crack in the door, and Aelin was relieved. She’d hoped he’d be awake, but hadn’t been totally sure. She announced herself with a small knock before cracking the door open.

Sure enough, Aedion was upright in bed, scrolling on his phone absentmindedly. His blue-green eyes stared up at her, startled for a second, before melting into a familiar smile. He patted the comforter next to him, and she bounded across the room before jumping onto the bed with a large bounce.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, and Aelin shook her head.

“You’re not hanging out with Rowan tonight?”

Aedion chuckled softly, rubbing the top of her head with his large palm. “Nah, I thought I’d swap out with Lys tonight.”

“Lys? Is hanging out with Rowan?”

“Yup.”

Aelin paused.

“Should we check on them to make sure there’s no blood shed?”

Aedion inhaled, causing him to snort loudly. “I thought you wanted his blood shed?”

Aelin groaned and flopped back onto the soft pillow. “No, of course I don’t. I love him. I would like him to stay alive and in one piece.”

“Sure could have fooled me with your shell throwing, Peach,” Aedion laughed. But he sat patiently, waiting for her continue.

“He read my diary.”

“Whoaaaa,” Aedion whistled. “That…”

“Isn’t cool?” Aelin completed his sentence. “Yeah, I know.”

“I was gonna say, that doesn’t sound like Rowan, actually,” Aedion said, running his hand through his thick hair and pushing it back thoughtfully. “Why’d he do it?”

“Huh?” Aelin asked, distracted by her barrage of feelings of betrayal and hurt once again.

“Why’d he do it?”

“Uhhh…” Aelin didn’t have an answer.

“He didn’t give you a reason? Why he opened your journal and invaded your private thoughts?”

“Well, he started to but…I kind of didn’t want to hear it?”

Aedion sat thoughtfully, his eyes glazing over as he parsed through his own emotions and figured out what to say next. It was rare for Aedion to speak so candidly with her. Their relationship had always been a series of taunts and sibling-adjacent teasing. But he was smart and knew her better than most. And he lived her entire history with Rowan, so she was curious to hear his response.

“I think you should hear him out,” Aedion finally said, causing Aelin’s hackles to rise. Why should she have to listen to his explanation when the betrayal was so clear cut and obviously wrong? Why should she care about the why when the what couldn’t ever be explained away. “I know what you’re thinking,” Aedion continued. “Because if you’re going to be fully and rightfully mad, you should know what caused this insane lapse in judgement.” He paused again and stared at her.

Aelin nodded, taking in his explanation, but she wasn’t sure she agreed with it. “I’m not ready to stop being mad yet,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to.”

“I just know that as soon as he starts explaining, I’m going to forgive him. And I don’t want to forgive him.”

“Why not?”

A small tear ran down Aelin’s cheek as she sniffled. “Because he’s leaving me.” She shook her head, sniffing the tear back and continuing forward. “I think maybe there’s a part of me that thinks maybe this is just an easy way to push him away. You can get left if you leave first, right?” She took a deep breath and stared up at her cousin with wide blue eyes, her lip trembling. “Aed, am I totally fucked up?”

“C’mere,” Aedion said, letting Aelin lean against his shoulder and cry it out.

She knew this was about so much more than her journal. It was a panic reaction. Even though Rowan had reassured her approximately seven hundred and one times that he wasn’t going anywhere, that deep down, she still didn’t believe him. She was so ready to push him away. Because him wanting to be with her… it didn’t make sense. And so when he made this (albeit huge!) mistake, and was upset with her, her instinct was to lean into that feeling. Like, aha! She knew it! He didn’t want to be with her, after all. Because she’s terrible, so who could want to be with her?

“Just talk to him.”

She thanked Aedion for his advice, but wasn’t sure she was going to take him up on it. Instead, she went upstairs and wrote all her feelings down. They were raw and uninhibited, and for the first time, she realized that maybe there were wounds between them that had never healed. Aelin’s eyes finally fell shut just as the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon. And it was nearly noon by the time she woke up to Lysandra tapping her shoulder.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hi,” Aelin startled, looking at the clock and cringing a bit. She’d slept half the day away.

“It’s still raining, so we’re going to head to the arcade, did you want to come? Or do you want to chill here?” Lys asked. “We just didn’t want to leave without telling you.”

Aelin shook the last vestiges of sleep off and sat up slowly, stretching her arms overhead. “No, I’m up. I’ll come.”

Lys left her to get ready, and despite feeling groggy as hell, Aelin didn’t bother to do anything other than get dressed for the day and tie her long blonde hair into two neat braids.

The arcade was only a few minute drive away, but in her typical spot in Rowan’s passenger seat, it somehow felt a thousand years long. She’d tried to get into Manon’s car, but Aedion had practically shoved her into the jeep. By the time they arrived at the arcade, Aelin felt shaky with tension. Honestly, she felt like she could somehow run a marathon and easily fall over all at the same time. She wasn’t sure what to do with the mass amounts of adrenaline and nerves coursing through her, but luckily, the group decided they wanted to do bumper cars first, which was an excellent outlet for her stress.

As she shoved her car into the side of Rowan’s car, making him crash into the back of Dorian’s and causing a giant pile up, Aelin was feeling pretty great. She felt even better as she and Dorian went head to head for a Just Dance battle that she fully nailed. But her anxiety came back tenfold when the group decided to end the day with an epic laser tag battle, putting her and Rowan as team captains.

She glared at Lys, who had divied them up, but her friend never looked her way, ignoring her as they split up to “strategize.”

“Okay, Captain,” Manon said, slapping Aelin’s shoulder. “What’s our battle tactic?”

. . .

It turned out that Aelin was an excellent laser tag player. She eliminated the competition with a swift efficiency, like she was born for it. She took Aedion out first, since he was unpredictable and athletic. Then, Lys, who tried to stay camouflaged in the corners of the complex castle-shaped course, but she spotted her darting across one turret and took her out, too. Manon turned out to be a great wing-woman, too, keeping Aelin’s sides safe from the other side’s onslaught of attacks.

“On your left!” Manon hissed, causing Aelin to jump directly out of Rowan’s laser’s range. She was about to stick her tongue out when Manon gasped and fell to the ground. “Nooooo, I’ve been shot!” she gasped dramatically. “It was a coordinated attack! Get Chaol! Then save yourself!” she shouted.

Rowan stalked closer, but Aelin darted into a corner, out of sight, managing to take out Chaol in a surprise move. But without her defenses, her team started dropping like flies. Elide and Dorian were quickly eliminated, leaving just Aelin and Rowan in the course by themselves.

“Come on out, Ace,” he said. “You can’t hide from me forever.”

“Can too!” she shouted. But saying anything was a mistake, he followed her voice, and she narrowly darted out of range from his laser. “Too close,” she muttered, crouching on the ground and scaling the shadows of the walls again.

She spotted his glowing swath of hair under the black lights and attempted to target him, but it was as if he knew where she was at all times. They could feel each other’s eyes, even in the dark, as if there were some invisible thread tethering them together. No matter where she hid, he found her, and same for him. She didn’t know how long the game had gone on, until there was a flashing light overhead.

“Your game is ending in five minutes,” a speaker said overhead. Whoops. They’d used the entire hour and a half.

“Just call it a truce, and let’s go,” Manon whined. “I’m ready for dinner.”

There was a rumbling of agreement on the sidelines, but Aelin refused to call a truce. Stealthily, she snuck against the wall, tracking his every movement, until she knew she had him cornered. It was only when Rowan’s laser hit her target that she realized he’d known she was there the whole time, luring her into his trap.

“UGH!” she said, throwing down her laser as the lights came back on. “You couldn’t have just let me win?”

She knew she was being a sore loser, but she ignored Rowan’s outstretched hand, saying good game. But when she saw his lips tug down, she felt like crying again.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Can we talk?”

His eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “But food first?”

She’d thought they were going to stay at the arcade for dinner, but apparently the restaurant was attached to a bar, and Aedion suggested they take pizza home instead. Although she was ravenous, by the time they got back to the beach house, Aelin just wanted to get through this conversation. She held Rowan’s hand, stopping him from exiting the jeep with everyone else, but luckily, he got the idea immediately.

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Why’d you do it?”

Rowan’s jaw loosened slightly. “We’re just jumping right in?”

“Yup.” She twirled the end of one of her braids nervously. “So… why?”

Rowan sighed. “I think you’re going to be madder when I tell you why.”

Aelin’s shoulders tensed. “That’s okay.”

“Okay,” Rowan continued, steeling himself. “I know that I’ve told you to take your time telling me things, but… after what happened with your mom…” He paused. “I can feel you shutting me out. And I just wanted to know what the hell was going on in there,” he said, tapping the side of her head. “And I guess I read a bad page, but it just seemed to confirm everything I thought. That you had given up on us, that we weren’t meant to be together.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve loved you for so long… and I stupidly thought that we got past all the bad stuff and we would share everything, but it just felt like we were in the bad stuff again.”

Aelin took a deep breath and hummed, processing his words. As predicted, her anger had melted away with each of his words, but she was left with a raw and gaping hurt instead. “I need you to understand that it’s okay for me to have a private space to think through my feelings, Ro.” She paused. “That journal is like my therapist. It’s seen all the highs and lows and everything in between. And… I wish that you had just asked me what was wrong, instead of going behind my back. Just because we’re in love and share ourselves with each other doesn’t mean we don’t have boundaries. That journal is a hard limit.”

“I can see that now,” he admitted, running his hands through his hair, making it even more disheveled than it was before. “And I get it, I really do. I just… wanted to know how you were really doing.”

“I will always tell you how I’m really doing,” Aelin said. “It might not be immediately every time, but I will.” She leaned forward and laced her fingers with his.

“I think maybe I’m still figuring out what our boundaries are,” Rowan said. “Sometimes I think I know everything about you, and then other times you’re a complete mystery to me.”

“Isn’t that part of the fun?”

He squeezed her hand. “I’m really, really sorry. I jumped to conclusions and was a stupid idiot, and I’ll never ever ever do it again.”

Aelin scoffed. “You’d better fucking not, or I’ll wear another week’s worth of nightgowns and refuse to let you touch me.”

Rowan chuckled softly. “That was cruel.” He paused. “Are we okay?”

“If you’re asking if you can touch me in my nightgown tonight, then the answer is yes,” she said with a small smile.

He leaned forward and kissed her softly, and she could feel both their anger dissipate with each press of his lips. With a sigh, he leaned his forehead against hers. Because she knew that wasn’t what he was asking.

“Yeah, we’re okay, Ro,” she finally said, and he exhaled deeply.

But despite her words, that night and for the rest of the week, when Rowan slid his hand beneath the silk and lace of her nightgowns, she couldn’t help but feel an uncomfortable gnawing in the pit of her stomach that perhaps too much had gone unsaid.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Masterlist - Unlikely Revenges Demand Ageless Designs (URDAD)

Aelin, a biomedical engineer, spends her days maintaining Mistward General’s equipment. Also teaching Dr. Whitethorn, her best friend’s dad, how to use the new state-of-the-art machines for his lab, but that’s off the record.

Imagine her surprise when her boyfriend and her best friend show up at the ER because of a sex injury.

Now Aelin must decide how to get back at Chaol, but her best friend?

Her dad will do.

best friend’s dad; co-workers; age gap (24 + 40)

the filthiest fluff

~~

PART 1 - Adenine: paired with U

PART 2 - Concentration gradient: going down on you

PART 3 - Glucose: sticking to you

PART 4 - Vaccine: I want you in my arms

PART 5 - Lonely TCGTATGG would like to pair up with congenial AGCATACC

And look at this beautiful moodboard by @elentiyawhitethorn!! <3

You can get notifications when I update by either following me on @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

[bigheartedbibliophile]

Throne of Glass by Sarah J Maas

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐.5

Summary:🐱‍👤👩🏾‍🤝‍👩🏼🗡✨

SPOILERS

I was highly skeptical of this book going in. Everyone I know who has read it loved it, and it’s enormous on Booktok/Instagram. I figured they were overhyping it, honestly.

Boy, was I WRONG! This book was honestly so good. 

This book has everything: competition to become the King’s champion, female friendship, magic, foreshadowing, love triangle esque? But not overly complicated, humor, tragedy, EVERYTHING.

I enjoyed that the book had different POVs the entire time, although it mainly focused on Calaena Sardothien (the main character), who is such a badass. She’s an assassin who was in a labor camp (you'll find out why later in the series, I’m assuming) and spent a year there before being released by the prince to fight and win her freedom as the King’s Champion. She has a hard time trusting people, and letting someone close to her got them killed last time (again, explained later in the series)

Dorian Hallivard is the prince and one of the love interests. He’s annoying in this book, but I heard he gets better as the series continues. His dad is the king, and he is fucking evil. I kind of called that, and certain things, like the king attempting to kill his son’s champion, were pretty expected, but some of the other stuff, like the king’s heavy involvement in the magic he supposedly got rid of, was a bit surprising.

Chaol 🥗 Westfall goes with Dorian at the beginning of the book to get Calaena out of the labor camp and be Dorian’s “champion” in the competition. I love him; he’s sassy and no-nonsense, or at least he pretends to be. I liked him immediately. He’s the other love interest but does not act on his feelings in this book. He’s reserved and best friends with Dorian, and doesn’t want to get in his friend’s way of pursuing Celaena.

Calaena is initially interested in Dorian, but once she wins the competition, she knows they can’t be together, as he is the prince and she’s nowhere near royal.

One of my favorite characters is Nehemia, a princess visiting from another country. She is trying to get information and stop the king from taking over her country. She and Calaena become fast friends, and even though they lie to each other about things, they work through it.

What was wild was the way this book ended! I knew Calaena would end up fighting Cain, the most prominent and worst competitor in the “game.” What was surprising was how he was killing the other competitors through some sort of magic called Wyrd, where he summons demons and shit, and then absorbs the other competitors' strength!! Calaena is such a significant threat to him (and the King, we find out later) that she was poisoned, and she still fucking wins. The ancient Queen Elena is kind of a ghost, and she helps Calaena get rid of the poison in her body before she can get back to fighting seriously, but while the poison has her, she can actually see the demons Cain summons. The poor girl keeps going through some shit.

Meanwhile, Dorian, Chaol, and everyone else can only see her struggling, but can’t see the demons. Nehemia is pretty badass and starts doing magic secretly to help protect Calaena while she’s trying to get rid of the poison. Dorian does nothing to help her, and I get that his dad is the king, and interfering would invalidate and disqualify her from the competition, but come on. You guys made out a whole bunch, and you’re just going to watch her die? Chaol at least went to her side and kept her fighting, saying she couldn’t quit. From his perspective, he gets so worried about her. When she finally wins, the king not so subtly nods to Cain, who tries to kill her when she turns her back. Chaol, the Captain of the Guard, by the way, notices and kills Cain without hesitation. He’s obviously traumatized by this, and I don’t believe he’s killed before, but maybe he has. The king shows Calaena a hint of how truly evil he is by telling her that if she fucks up, she will kill Chaol, then Nehemia, then everyone else she cares about. And that’s pretty much how the book ends!

I’m excited to see where the series goes with everything and how certain things get explained. Questions I have for this series: How did the king eliminate all the magic in the land? Will it ever come back? What does the symbol that appeared on Calaena’s forehead mean? Who does she end up with? What will happen once she’s done her four years as the King’s champion? There are so many others that I can’t remember right now. 

I forgot to mention why I didn’t give this book five stars. The author keeps saying Calaena “isn’t like other girls,” I get that she really isn’t like other girls because she is an assassin! But there are ways to explain that without being a “pick me girl,” if that makes sense. I don’t know; it just feels like the author hates other women or at least has some underlying issues with women that came out in her writing. Maybe Kaltain, the woman who poisons Calaena and is trying to get with the prince, is based on a woman she doesn’t like, and that’s why everything comes off so weird.

I recommend this book to anyone who likes fantasy/young adult/romance. I read this in July/August 2024.

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-a-Long, Crown of Midnight, Day 7

45

Kaltain got taken away, and married to the duke, I’ll miss you baby, I hope you and he work out. At least you can see the sky again. I’m not sure what Celaena is implying by drawing a connection between Roland, Cain, and Kaltain, does she think that King Whatever plopped portions of Wyrdkeys into them? Or… what?

And is the Ah! Time’s Rift! Riddle actually an anagram?!? I TRIED SO HARD to decode it, lol, but I’m pretty bad at anagrams. It just seemed like the kind of sentence that was rearranged to make an anagram, though.

Here, lemme try again

“The fair mist” or maybe “the first aim”

I am

So bad at this

46

Oh my god 😂

You could hide something forever from me by giving me an anagram, I feel like I NEVER would have gotten that

BUT that poem also spelled it out, Celaena. We knew it was in the tomb. The king knew. The door knew. Everybody knew. Lol.

So Dorian is only magical because his dad made it so that he would be… that was a surprisingly thoughtful thing for Dorian’s dad to do. And kinda out of character, honestly, but maybe he’s hoping that Dorian will follow in his evil footsteps.

I like that the ghost of King Gavin is like wake up boy go stop Celaena she’s all mad with grief

47

Oh my God 😭

I never thought I’d see you again, Nehemia!

Can you kiss

Can you hold hands

Just one last time!

“I knew what my fate was to be and I embraced it. I ran toward it.”

Girl. You died so violently, lol. How. How could you run toward THAT end.

Hello Archer, wow, that’s really random, I wasn’t expecting to see YOU here…

48

Um!

This fucking guy was the murderer all along! Archer how could you! I liked you!

Dorian and Chaol to the rescue

Best friends

It seems like they’re making up at last

49

INTENSE INTENSITY

HOLY SHIT

FLEETFOOT

CHAOL

whaaaa, that reveal tho

Was she fae this whole time? How did she disguise herself? How did she get to the human realm? Is she trapped there, since there’s no magic? Or did stepping through the portal cause her to transform kinda like being dunked into a cauldron?

(Is the faerie realm just the human realm, or are they separate realms?)

(Glancing at the map)

(Guys I’m excited)

(I’d much rather read about fae and faeries, I was under the impression these books were about fae and faeries and was so shocked when I started reading and was like huh???)

(Anyway. FINALLY! this is such a thrill)

(I DO NOT WANT TO STOP READING)

(That dog better be ok or my sanity is going to crumble)

That was quite a fun ride!

I feel like it’s impossible to stop reading right now especially with how it feels like there’s hardly any book left.

No promises that I won’t just read the rest right now

(I’m gonna go eat lunch first)

(The end of SJM books are always very intense and entertaining and hard to put down)

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

Objective List of Top 5 SJM Romantic Heroes:

5. Tamlin (ACOTAR) - Tamlin is written to be the most overtly romantic of all SJM's heroes and even though his character is blatantly assassinated to make room for a different love interest, he still gets credit for being the only one of the ACOTAR trilogy love interests who believes that slavery is wrong for no other reason than enslaving someone is bad. (Also appeals to my very specific niche tastes, giving him a leg up on all the competition.)

4. Chaol Westfall (ToG) - The only human love interest SJM ever wrote, also one of the only ToG characters who has an actual meaningful character arc. I get the impression that SJM had an actual strong grasp on his personality, motivations, and goals, which automatically makes him a stronger character than 75 percent of the rest of the cast by default. Tower of Dawn was disappointing (ableism strong with this one) but it was also the most interesting book SJM ever wrote.

3. Lorcan (ToG) - I was prepared to hate this character and his plot line because Lorcan wears the same skin as every other Bad Boy SJM Love Interest(tm). But put it this way: When Aelin and Rowan had their first sex scene, I laughed hysterically. When Lorcan and Elide has their first, much milder love scene? I cried out of genuine emotion. When characters have CHEMISTRY, it makes a world of difference. We don't need beaches of glass or exploding trees, we just need simple declarations like, "I wanted to go [home] with you."

2. Hunt Athalar (CC) - A fundamentally lame ass normal guy forced to wear the costume of an SJM Love Interest(tm). At least four of my friends have dated this exact guy in college. You could bring him home and introduce him to your mother, and he would help your dad barbecue. Rights for all the normal boyfriends around the world!

1. Lucien Vanserra (ACOTAR) - The king of plot and potential and set up. Can I truly rank him as the best when he has yet to recieve billing as a full romantic hero of his own? Yes. I can. Search your feelings. You know this to be true.

[dawninlatin]

Prepare for landing

Manon is stuck on a plane next to an unaccompanied minor. A very talktive one, belonging to one single, sapphire-eyed father...

Words: 2,5k

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Manon had been waiting for this moment all weekend, finally able to sit down and block out the rest of the world, knowing she would be home in a few hours. 

She’d been at a science conference for her job, and while she loved going to lectures and hearing about fancy new research, she hated having to talk to other people and pretending that she enjoyed it. «Networking», as her boss liked to call it, was honestly Manon’s worst nightmare.

Thankfully, she now had two full hours to herself on a flight that didn’t look like it would be too full, where she could read or sleep or just not talk to anyone.

Closing her eyes, Manon simply listened to the quiet bustling of everyone finding their seats, hoping the one next to her would remain empty.

That was, until the voice of one of the overly cheerful flight attendants sounded much too close.

«Alright sweetheart, you can sit here, next to this nice lady, and if you need anything, just press this button and I’ll come!»

Oh, no.

Opening her eyes again, Manon looked straight at a little girl, no older than six, too busy openly gawking at Manon to answer the flight attendant.

Her dark-brown hair was pulled into two neat pigtails, her eyes were a deep, sapphire blue, and around her neck was a lanyard with a note telling Manon she was an unaccompanied minor.

Manon gave her what was probably the most awkward smile ever, all tight-lipped and stiff, and shifted her attention over to some report she was meant to read for work.

The girl still hadn’t answered the flight attendant, so she tried once more, impatience shining through the awfully chirpy demeanor this time. «Why don’t I hold your backpack while you get seated!»

She reluctantly sat down at last, fastening her seatbelt, and silently accepted her pink, glittery backpack from the flight attendant.

«Is everything all right then?»

A mumbled «Uh-huh» was the only answer, but it seemed good enough for the flight attendant, who quickly turned on her heel and left. 

Manon could feel the girl staring at her again, but didn’t do anything to acknowledge her. She tried to remind herself that as uncomfortable as this was, it was only for two hours.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like kids, she just had no idea how to act around them. She didn’t know what she could talk about, or how she could talk about it. Was she supposed to alter her voice, or was this girl already way too old for that? Could Manon use her normal vocabulary? What about grammar?

Luckily, this one didn’t seem too talkative, and Manon could handle a little staring. She’d probably get bored soon, anyway, and pull out an iPad or something.

The peace and quiet lasted for a full three seconds before the girl tapped her shoulder.«What’s your name?»

Trying not to sigh, Manon put on a tight smile and said, «It’s Manon.»

«I’m Beatrice, but everyone just calls me Bea. Only my dad uses Beatrice, and that’s just when he yells at me.»

The girl, Beatrice, held out her hand, nails, and fingertips, painted in all colours of the rainbow. She was waiting for Manon to shake it, which Manon halfheartedly did. «Nice to meet you, Bea.»

She might be uncomfortable around kids, but she wasn’t a monster either.

«Are you flying alone too? Have you been on vacation?»

So much for not being the talkative kind, Manon thought to herself, but that stiff smile remained plastered to her face, and she answered best as she could. «I’ve been on a work trip.»

Bea thought for a moment, then said, «My dad goes on those sometimes! I stay with my aunt Aelin or uncle Chaol when he does, but they’re both super nice, and aunty Aelin always lets me have ice cream and stay up past my bedtime! I’ve been visiting my Nana and Pops because it’s my birthday next week and I turn six years old!» She held up six fingers for emphasis, then kept going. 

«My dad usually goes with me but he had to work this weekend so I’m flying all by myself but that means I can get as much apple juice as I want. And crackers!»

Manon sat frozen for a moment, trying to process all that information. At last, she just went with «How nice!»

It sounded forced, even to her own ears, but Bea luckily didn’t catch on to it. Instead, she lifted one of her legs, and asked, «Do you like my shoes? They were a birthday gift from Nana!»

The shoes in question were nice, Manon supposed, for a five-year-old. They were bright pink with stars and rainbows and a unicorn on the side.

«Look! They can even do this!» She then kicked her feet, which didn’t even reach the floor, together, and the shoes lit up with blue and purple flashing lights.

«Wow,» Manon responded, thankfully sounding a little more genuine now. At least she wasn’t stuck next to any of the annoying scientists she’d been forced to interact with all weekend, too many of them way past retirement-age, and obsessed with how things were better «back in the day» (a.k.a when women barely had rights).

After hearing the long and way too detailed story of Bea’s Nana’s hip-replacement surgery, the plane finally got ready for take-off. Next to her, Bea had gone quiet, chewing her lip as she stared out the window.

«You don’t like this part, do you?» Manon carefully asked, wondering why she cared, all of a sudden.

Bea just shook her head, bottom lip quivering slightly. «My ears always hurt,» she whispered.

«Mine usually does too,» Manon said in an effort to comfort her. She tried to remember if she had any chewing gum in her bag, but when she found she didn’t, she instead suggested trying to yawn or swallow a lot.

But the plane had already taken off by then, shaking as they got higher and higher up, so Bea only nodded absentmindedly, seemingly lost in fear.

Eyes glistening, she once more looked at Manon, and whispered, «Can you hold my hand?»

Heart breaking a little, Manon offered her hand, and Bea was quick to grab it, squeezing tightly, which only made Manon’s heart break a little more. 

When the seatbelt-sign went off, and it was once again calm and quiet, Bea let go of Manon’s hand, back to her usual spirits. To Manon’s joy or suffering, she didn’t know.

«Your hair is really pretty!»

«Thanks.»

«Do you braid it often?»

«Sometimes, I guess.»

«Do you know how to make a fishtail braid?»

«I think so.»

«My dad watches YouTube videos to learn new braids. He promised me we would try a waterfall braid when I got home, like the one Lily S. wears!»

Manon had no idea what a waterfall braid was, or who Lily S. were, but judging by the stars in Bea’s eyes, they were both considered pretty cool. Before Manon could even answer, Bea continued listing all the other kinds of braids her dad had taught himself from YouTube.

After a while, the flight attendant from earlier came over with a juice box and some crackers, which Bea happily accepted. She even offered Manon some, but she politely declined. 

With the kid busy eating and humming some tune, Manon tried to get started on that report, but she only got to read half a page, before she could feel Bea leaning over her in an effort to see what she was reading. When she couldn’t make sense of it, she asked, «What’s that?»

«Something for my job,» Manon answered, giving up the idea of even a moment of peace on this flight.

«What do you do for your job? My dad reads a lot for his job too. He leaves books all over the house.» Bea then proceeded to roll her eyes, which made Manon chuckle.

«I um…» She had to think for a moment, not knowing how to explain molecular medicine to a preschooler. In the end, she just went with, «I try to invent new types of medicine.»

Bea’s eyes widened. «Coooool! Are you married? Do you have kids?»

There it was, Manon thought. She wasn’t even thirty, yet she’d already gotten tired of that question.

«No, I don’t.»

«Why?»

For fuck’s sake…

She knew she should just keep it simple, but she might as well teach the kid some valuable life wisdom while she was at it. «I don’t need a husband, or kids, to be happy, and neither do you, when you’re older.»

Manon had expected even more questions, but Bea’s eyes lit up. «That’s what my aunty Aelin always said too! She’s a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man.» Bea placed her hands on her hips, probably imitating her aunt word for word, and Manon simply had to laugh.

«Now she has a boyfriend named Rowan though, and my dad tells her she’s in-fa-tu-at-ed,» Bea shrugged, saying that last word slowly, syllable by syllable, as if she didn’t quite know what it meant.

«My dad is also single, and aunty Aelin says he needs to get a girlfriend soon, so he starts wearing proper clothes and shaving every day.»

Slowly, Manon formed a picture of a tired, single father trying his very best to answer a million questions a day. She smiled at the thought, even if she felt a little sorry for the chaos that had to be this man’s life.

«I want him to get a girlfriend too, so I can have a mommy like all the other kids at school. Mine died when I was a baby, but I’ve seen lots of pictures of her and she was very pretty.»

Manon had no idea what to answer to that, and she felt herself panicking slightly, trying to come up with something, but of course she didn’t need to. Bea quickly changed subjects, now talking about her collection of barbie dolls.

Before she knew it, the seatbelt-light went back on, Bea once more clutched her hand, and they had landed, back home at last.

While they waited to exit the plane, Bea turned to Manon. «Me and my dad are gonna get ice cream before we go home. Do you wanna come too? You have to try the chocolate fudge ice cream, it’s the best!»

Bea looked at Manon with the saddest, most hopeful eyes she had ever seen, and Manon had no idea how she could kindly break this kid’s heart. «I’m sorry, but I’ve been gone all weekend and have a lot to do when I get home.»

It was kinda true, Manon figured, though she was very likely to procrastinate all those things.

Thankfully, Bea didn’t start crying. She simply shrugged, as happy as ever. «Okay, you can come with us another time then!»

Manon let out a sigh of relief when the flight attendant approached, ready to escort Bea off the plane, and Manon didn’t have to make any promises for another ice cream date. 

Bea picked up her backpack and jumped out of her seat. She was about to leave, but turned around at the last minute and flung herself around Manon. «Bye, Manon! It was very nice to meet you!»

Then she took the flight attendants hand, and practically skipped off the plane, leaving Manon with a soft smile on her face. These past two hours hadn’t been that bad, after all.

-

Waiting to claim her baggage, Manon suddenly heard a high, cheerful voice, calling out from the other end of the hall. «DADDY LOOK! THERE’S MY FRIEND FROM THE PLANE! MANON!»

Manon turned to find Bea waving eagerly at her. Next to her, trying to keep her from taking off, was a man that looked to be around Manon’s age. He had dark, messy hair that would have looked like it desperately needed to be cut on anyone else, and his eyes were a sapphire blue, like his daughter’s.

He was handsome, Manon mused, in a…slightly sleep-deprived way, but she tried to forget that thought as soon as it hit her. She was not ready for a relationship, and she was definitely not ready to be someone’s step mom.

At last, Bea managed to wriggle loose, and she sprinted towards Manon, her dad calling after her. 

«Bea, wait-» The poor man looked mortified, but also somehow like he was used to this happening several times a day. 

«Manon, you have to come say hi to my dad!» Bea exclaimed, already grabbing Manon’s hand and pulling her after her, towards her father, who was making his way towards them to save Manon.

As they met in the middle, he chuckled nervously, face blushing. «I’m Dorian, Bea’s dad, as you’ve probably gathered.»

«Manon,» she replied, shaking his hand. It was stronger than she’d expected from the slightly frazzled man in front of her. 

«I’m so sorry for all the questions you’ve probably had to answer in the past hours. We’re working on not sharing every detail of your life with strangers.» Dorian cringed as he said the last part, and Manon found herself laughing again.

Looking at Bea for a moment, who was now busy jumping from square to square on the tiled floor, Manon said, «Oh, don’t worry! She made sure I never got bored.»

After a moment, Manon added, «She’s a really bright kid,» not knowing where these conversation-skills suddenly came from.

Dorian’s eyes softened with both love and exasperation as he looked over at his daughter. «Yeah, she really is.»

Bea ran back over to the two of them then, grabbing her father’s hand. «Can Manon please get ice cream with us?» 

She took turns looking at them both with those puppy eyes, and Manon tried to think of a way she could politely decline, again.

Sighing, Dorian glanced at Manon. «I mean, you’re more than welcome, if you want to.» He lifted a hand to his neck, clearly as uncomfortable as Manon by his daughters antics.

«I, uh…» Manon started, but she didn’t know what to say next.

«It’s, uh, my treat. That’s the least I owe you for keeping up with this chatterbox for two hours.» He chuckled nervously again, but that was hope shining in his eyes.

From between them, Bea looked up at him. «What’s a chatterbox?»

«Someone who talks very, very much.»

«Hey! That’s kinda rude!»

As father and daughter bickered, Manon thought about the offer. If she declined, she’d be going home to an empty house and a night of scrolling through Netflix. It had been her dream earlier that day, but now it seemed kinda sad. And lonely.

And if she said yes, what was the worst that could happen?

Smiling, she looked at Bea, then Dorian. «I’ll take that ice cream. I hear rumour of some chocolate fudge I just had to try!»

Taglist: @fireheartfaery @bookishwitchling @gwynethhberdara @darklingswhxore @onfma @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @rainbowcheetah512 @mirubyjane​

I keep a separate taglist for each ship, so let me know if you want to be added to any of them!

[rowanaelinn]

Illicit affairs - Chapter Two

Masterlist

Warnings: none | Word count: 4300 words

In some senses, Aelin had missed home. Sure enough, her bedroom at her parents’ house was much better than her dorm at Orynth University. The food was better too, and she had to admit she didn’t miss the loud noise every Friday and Saturday night. She didn’t miss the first-year students throwing their guts up everywhere either. She used to be one of them, thank god she had learned to not drink past her limit.

What she hadn’t missed was the cold. Not the weather, Doranelle had barely any cold weather, even in mid-winter. No, Aelin hadn’t missed how cold her house was. How life-less it felt, how it lacked something. Someone.

There wasn’t any picture of Celaena hung up on the wall, no traces of her. Her parents had hidden any pictures with her in the attic a month after she passed. Now, only Aelin, her parents, Aedion, and Gavriel were on the numerous walls of the house.

Aelin shouldn’t have been surprised when it happened, she shouldn’t have cried for hours on end. Her mother had already done it when her sister, Aida, had died of cancer. Evalin Ashryver’s copying mechanism was ignoring her pain. Maybe it was why Aelin now ignored problems until she couldn’t.

Aelin’s mother had been as far as to take away the picture of the twins Aelin kept on her nightstand. Aelin hadn’t said anything, she maybe should have but she didn’t want to cause more pain than necessary. Aelin was the perfect mirror of Celaena’s face, even their parents struggled to know who was who sometimes. Her entire existence probably hurt her mother enough.

“Ready for your day?” Evalin asked, Aelin looked up from her breakfast and nodded.

“Doranelle’s med school is better than Orynth,” Rhoe stated, reading a newspaper as he drank from his cup of coffee.

Aelin raised an eyebrow, “You both graduated from Orynth.”

Rhoe lowered the newspaper to show a playful smile on his lips, “And it turned bad the moment we left, honey. You don’t know how twenty-five years can change an institution.”

“Twenty-five? Really? Woah, I would have said at least fifty.”

Evalin rolled her eyes, “Ha, ha, ha. You’re hilarious, daughter.”

Aelin laughed, taking a bite of her pancakes. They didn’t usually spend the morning chatting, it was rare for her to see both of her parents when she woke up. They both lived more at the hospital than in this house. Aelin suspected they had both cleared their schedules because today was their own definition of an important day.

Aelin joined Doranelle’s med school. Sure, she had done her first semester in Orynth and it was quite unusual to switch schools in the middle of the year, but she guessed no one could say no to the chief of surgery of Doranelle’s hospital.

“What I mean is,” Rhoe kept going, “You are going to graduate from the best institution of the country while Chaol will have a diploma from the fifth-best school.”

The name left a sour taste in Aelin’s mouth that even pancakes couldn’t replace. Evalin groaned, “Really, Rhoe?”

He shrugged, “What? It’s the truth.”

“Dad,” Aelin said. “I’m not mad at him.”

“I am.”

Aelin’s lips curled as she said, “So your idea of revenge is hoping he has a worse diploma than me?”

“Yep.”

She laughed then, “I like you.”

He winked at her. It had always been this way with her father, a quiet sort of understanding. She had his temper, she had been told so her entire life. He was the hot to her mother’s cold, the hard to her softness. And now all of this temper was directed toward Chaol Westfall, Aelin’s ex-boyfriend.

She meant what she said earlier, she wasn’t mad. She had never been passionately in love with Chaol, but after all what was love? Aelin believed it was stability and calm, and it was what he brought her. Books, movies, and everyone else who claimed that passionate love was real? They lied.

But she had to be honest and say that finding him in bed with another woman when Aelin had come to his dorm earlier than planned wasn’t how she had expected to find him. She didn’t cry, though the other girl did. Aelin had never seen her in her life, and she was inclined to believe her when she kept repeating that she didn’t know. She had offered her a tight smile as she left in a hurry.

Aelin wasn’t sad, no, she was angry. Angry because it had been a bad day and Chaol made it worse, angry because her roommate had begged her to leave their dorms for the night for her boyfriend’s birthday which meant that Aelin was locked outside.

She had called her father then, asking if she could come home. She had meant for the weekend but apparently, Rhoe Galathynius wanted his daughter far away from the man he used to call “son”.

She had taken her flight back home and her father informed her that her file had been transferred between Terrasen and Doranelle’s school. He didn’t ask her, everything was done when she landed. She just smiled and thanked him. He didn’t mean any ill, and she was quite grateful that she didn’t have to see Chaol’s face in classes ever again.

-

She was late. If there was anything that irritated Aelin, it was being late. She was ready to acknowledge that if she had a car, or even a driver’s license, she wouldn’t be subjected to the subway. It wasn’t really her fault, Orynth was made for people without cars. She could do everything on foot there, which was one of the reasons why she loved the city. Doranelle wasn’t the same, she had to take the bus and two lines of the metro to get to her new school. In clear: she had to start to learn how to drive. Not that she could ask any of her parents, she’d kill them before the end of her first lesson. They weren’t the most patient people in the world.

She made as little noise as possible as she entered the almost full lecture hall, quietly sitting next to a brunette with green eyes. Aelin cursed herself for being late, turning on her computer would just make too much noise. Shit, shit, shit. Her wrist would hate her tonight but Aelin had no other choice than to write it all down.

The brunette snickered, Aelin was already ready to snap. Medical schools were full of competition, everyone fighting for first place. It was why Aelin hadn’t made any friends worth staying in Orynth. The brunette leaned toward Aelin, “Are you new?”

“Yes.”

“I guessed,” she said, and Aelin decided that she was going to smash her face into that computer of hers, “Professor Rofle speaks way too fast for handwriting notes, do you have an email?”

What?

Okay, maybe Aelin should stop thinking about being mean to people before they start to speak. Yeah, that sounded like a good New Year’s resolution. Aelin frowned, “You want to send me your notes?”

“You seem surprised?” The brunette whispered, her fingers still clicking on her keyboard. Damn, she was good at this. Aelin struggled to focus on different things, her brain only utterly unable to do multiple things at once. It was something she always had trouble with.

Aelin was still suspicious, “You’re going to send me fake notes, aren’t you?” It happened in Orynth, some students sold their notes but they were full of lies, made purposefully for people to fail their exams. Hell, it was one of the most normal things that had happened there.

The woman rolled her eyes, “You think I'd rather spend time creating fake notes instead of studying?”

“Yes.”

She chuckled softly, her eyes going back and forth between her computer and the professor. She was beautiful, truly, there was no other way to put it. Her long brown hair was shinny enough to make Aelin want to ask her what her hair care routine was, her features soft but with some kind of sharpness that screamed don’t fuck with me. Aelin, damn her, threw an appreciative glance at her body. It wasn’t her fault that women were beautiful, was it? And at least she was never insistent like men were, one furtive glance from time to time only.

“I’ll email you this one in front of you at the end of the class, or you can be stubborn and get half of the lesson and fail your exams.”

Aelin couldn’t hold back her smile, she liked this girl. “Thanks.”

She winked, “I’m Lysandra.”

“Aelin.”

–

“So,” Lysandra started, “Your ex was a dick, you caught him being a dick, and now you moved back home.”

“Basically,” Aelin said. Surprisingly, Lysandra was nice. Really nice. Nice enough for Aelin to open up about why she moved right after Yulemas break. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t blood-related to her. Not that she didn’t like spending time with Aedion, she just usually avoided the boys topic. It always resolved in Aedion threatening someone’s life, anyway.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, “Men really are the stupidest creatures ever created.”

Aelin couldn’t hold back her laugh, keeping her noises down with a hand on her mouth. She was grateful Lysandra had the same classes as her or Aelin would have been late to her next class too. This place was huge, bigger than Orynth’s school.

“What’s up?” A deep voice cut Lysandra off before she could speak, the brunette jumped in surprise as a man grabbed her by the waist. Honestly, she looked ready to kill whoever had touched her.

“What the-” she screamed, attracting everyone’s attention in the hallway but she didn’t seem to care. She relaxed when she saw who was behind her. Aelin was content to observe as Lysandra pushed the man’s shoulder hard enough for him to take three steps back.

The man was just laughing, his objectively beautiful face stretched into a grin. His eyes were blue, not the same blue as Aelin. She had never met someone else other than her and Aedion who possessed these eyes. His eyes were almost black, loose curls falling on his face. “You’re the worst, Dorian,” Lysandra sighed.

“You love me,” he answered, kissing her cheek. She let him. Friends, then. He turned his gaze to Aelin, she didn’t say anything, just raising an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“She’s new,” Lysandra answered, “Don’t even think about it.” She warned him, pointing her finger at him and glared.

He raised his hands in a sign of innocence, the tip of Aelin’s lips rose slightly, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Not yet,” Lysandra answered before turning to Aelin, “Don’t let him woo you into his bed.”

“Not a chance,” Aelin answered. The man, Dorian, had his mouth wide open and his hand on his heart, “No offense,” Aelin added.

“Offense taken! You didn’t even think about it for a minute.”

Aelin only winked at him, a sly smile on her lips; As pretty as he was, Aelin wasn’t interested. “Dorian, this is Aelin,” Lysandra said. “Aelin, this is Dorian Havillard.”

Surprise spread through Aelin, “Havillard?”

Dorian nodded and sighed as he answered, “Yes.”

“Our fathers work together,” Aelin said. Maybe there was more to his pretty face, maybe he, too, had grown up the way Aelin did.

His surprise was clear on his face, so Aelin clarified, “I’m Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.”

Lysandra choked on air, “Galathynius like…?”

“Like the chief of surgery of Doranelle’s hospital,” Dorian said. He, too, knew about his father’s co-workers at least.

Lysandra let out a low chuckle, “Thank god I didn’t send you fake notes.”

–

Aelin was sitting between Dorian and Lysandra and they weren’t late. They were even five minutes early, something that the professor wasn’t. It wasn’t surprising knowing that most of the teachers were actual doctors who taught one subject in their spare time. It gave more money and a better position at the hospital.

“You’ll see,” Lysandra leaned toward Aelin, “The view is worth the ten-minute walk.”

Aelin frowned but Dorian explained to her, “Are you for real, Lys? You tell her to don’t get near me but you encourage her to bang a professor.”

Okay, apparently their anatomy teacher was pretty enough for Lysandra to call them a view. Good to know.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, “I didn’t tell her to do anything except enjoy the view, which is what everyone in this class does, including you, Dor.”

“She’s lying,” he whispered to Aelin who couldn’t hold back her soft laugh. She had suspicions Lysandra wasn’t lying.

“How long have you two known each other?” They seemed very comfortable with each other. She was grateful they had included her today, if only because they gave her every tip she needed to survive her years here.

“We met in undergrad,” Dorian answered.

“And he’s been a pain in my ass ever since,” Lysandra completed. Aelin liked their dynamic, maybe she’d have fun here. Maybe she had missed something by sticking to Chaol’s side all these years, only befriending the people he befriended before.

It was her own part of the stability contract she believed was love, she had to be friends with who he was friends with, no matter that they were just frat boys who couldn’t hold one conversation about something else than what beer is the best?

“You should give us your phone number,” Dorian said.

Aelin would have done exactly that, had a loud voice not echoed in the room, “Sorry for being late, I had a long surgery last night. Open your books to page sixty-three.”

Goosebumps appeared on Aelin’s skin, her entire body froze as she heard the voice. Too familiar, no matter that she hadn’t heard it in years. She silently begged Mala, the goddess who always seemed to be warming Aelin’s shoulder when she needed it.

Aelin’s heart stopped when he spoke again, her emotions pounding in her body too loudly for her to comprehend anything. His voice was rich and deep, the exact way she remembered it. The voice of the man she had spent so long trying to forget. Three years, to be exact. Three years since that night he tried to kiss her. Three years since she would have let him kiss her. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in an OR, saving someone’s life.

But Rowan Whitethorn seemed to always find her when she expected it the least, he had done so three years ago and did it just now. It clicked then, he wasn’t a resident anymore. It was his time to teach.

When she raised her head and saw him she forgot everything why they hadn’t kissed, forgot all the reasons why she had never sought him out again.

Aelin swallowed as she took in the situation. The man she had spent years trying to forget, the man who haunted her dream, was her professor.

She was so, so, screwed.

He was beautiful, even more now that she wasn’t in the dark or assaulted by emotions. His jaw was sharp, his skin tan. Gods, was it a tattoo she could see rising slightly on his neck and disappearing under his shirt?

The entire world stopped as he laid his bag on his desk and looked at his student, his eyes finding hers. If she was the perfect portrait of shock, so was he for a total of one second. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape. A mouth she should have kissed, she had wanted to kiss. A mouth she had thought about too many times over the years.

A mouth that someone else got to kiss every day. Because he was married.

He mastered his emotions quickly but Aelin didn’t. She wondered if she could get away with running away from this class, but anatomy was one of the most important courses for a future surgeon. Maybe if she begged her father enough he’d move her to the southern continent he’d let her, but he’d ask questions. Questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer.

She couldn’t run, not because of a man. He probably had too much to drink that night, and they hadn’t done anything. Not that it mattered to Aelin, not as if felt like she couldn’t be mad at Chaol’s cheating when she had almost done the same to him.

Aelin took a deep breath and tore her gaze away from him, focusing on the bright screen of her computer. It was only one hour, she could survive one hour in the same room as him. She wasn’t going to jump over her table and kiss him, even if she was sure the girls on the front row were ready to do just that. She couldn’t judge them, couldn’t judge their giggle as he asked how their Yulemas break was. It still pissed her off.

“Do you understand why I told you to enjoy it?” Lysandra whispered.

Aelin swallowed before she answered, “Not ugly but he isn’t my type.”

Lies, such lies. Lysandra huffed a laugh but thankfully didn’t say much more.

Aelin decided that avoiding eye contact was the best course of action, and then she can run away the moment he ends his class.

Aelin had no idea if it was the way he taught, but he was different from that night. He had never once stuttered on his words back then, but she caught him coughing before finding his words once again a few times. He’d look for his words, and the few times she dared to throw a look at him, he was either fidgeting with his hands or pinching the bridge of his nose. Maybe he was just tired from his surgery.

No matter how he felt, there was no other word to describe him than passionate. Even if he just finished performing surgery on someone he was still awake enough to give power to his words, and Aelin wondered how his classes were when he wasn’t as tired or stressed–or whatever it was he was feeling. If she hadn’t known him she’d probably drink his words in.

Who was she kidding, she was drinking his words in, hoping her computer screen could hide her.

The moment Rowan– fuck, she shouldn’t even think of him as Rowan. The moment professor Whitethorn… Or should she call him Doctor? It was so confusing. The moment he said the class was done for the day, Aelin slammed her computer shut with all the confidence a spoiled brat (according to the many people she met in her life) could have and slid it into her bag before standing up, begging for the people in her row to fucking get out faster.

Maybe he hadn’t seen her, maybe he had been surprised because they painted the classroom over the break and it caught his eyes just when Aelin looked at him. It was unlikely, but maybe?

“Miss Galathynius?” He asked, right as she was about to pass the door. Two seconds, really? Well, he had seen her, her hope was flying away. “Could I have a word with you?”

Lysandra frowned, “What the hell?”

Aelin shrugged, smiling a little, “I think he works for my dad.”

She didn’t let Lysandra answer, instead, she walked with all the confidence she could gather toward his desk. He was sliding his textbook into his bag as he walked the last student leave his room, some girl saying “See you next week Doctor Whitethorn,” her voice sweet enough to have Aelin almost gagging.

Aelin stood in front of his desk, deciding to not say the first word. He wanted to have a word with her? It didn’t mean Aelin wanted to say something. He sighed loudly, rubbing his eyes, Aelin’s eyes lingered on his hands, these strong fingers. They were beautiful, long and tan. What the hell was wrong with her? Did she just call fingers “beautiful”?

Gods, Aelin needed sleep. Lots of it.

“I don’t know what to say,” he broke the silence.

Aelin snorted, “A shame since you’re the one who wanted a word with me. By the way, that’s six words.”

He raised an eyebrow when he looked at her, the slight amusement in his eyes knocked the breath out of her. “Don’t make fun of me, Not Drunk.”

Hi, Not Drunk, I’m Rowan.

“Don’t call me that,” Aelin snapped.

“You’re right,” he said, “I’m sorry. It was inappropriate.”

She didn’t tell him that she was dying to have something to share just with him, that he was the only person on this planet who could ever call her this and it made it special. Not the kind of special she should want with a married man. And her fucking professor.

Aelin couldn’t move as he looked at her, in the same way he had that night. As if he knew her as if reading into her and her emotion was the most simple thing in the world. “You didn't listen to my advice.”

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

He chuckled, but Aelin could almost feel… pain in it? No, she had to be wrong. “You did.”

“Was that all you wanted to say?” Aelin asked, internally congratulating herself for keeping her voice strong and even. Good, she didn’t want to look like the girl who wasn’t over ten minutes of flirting that happened three years ago.

“No,” He answered. “I wanted to apologize for what happened the last time we saw each other.”

“From where I’m concerned, we never met.”

“Good,” Rowan nodded, avoiding her gaze. “That’s how it should be.”

Aelin crossed her arms, as if it would shield her from whatever could happen between them. “You finished your residency, then.” Only attendings could teach, not residents.

He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, I’m officially a neurosurgeon.” It must mean so much to the little boy who watched his parents die, Aelin thought. That was what this smile was: pride. Aelin’s veins were filled with it, too, even if she had no right to feel that way.

“Why are you here, Aelin?”

“To become a surgeon.”

He deadpanned, before he said, “Why are you in Orynth?”

Aelin looked everywhere but at him as she said, “I needed a change in scenery.”

The answer was vague but Aelin didn’t want to tell him about the real reason. “Are there any other classes I can take instead of this one? Or another professor?”

He frowned, “You want to give up?”

“I don’t want to have a conflict of interest,” Aelin replied. “There is clearly one and I don’t want that to step in the way of my future.”

“You think I’d do anything to put your career at risk?”

“I don’t know you,” Aelin said simply, because it was the truth. She didn’t know his middle name, or his favorite color. She knew one of his traumas, what drove his heart enough to decide on his career, but she didn’t know him.

He sighed, “No, there aren’t any other classes or professors, Aelin. And there isn’t any conflict of interest, I’m not that much of a bastard.”

“Enough to almost cheat on your wife,” Aelin snapped, regretting it almost as fast. Why had she said that? Maybe because it was easier to paint him as a villain, because if he was a bad guy then Aelin didn’t have a reason to feel bad. Well, it was another problem she’d ignore.

He barely flinched, “How’s Chaol?”

Something turned sour in Aelin’s mouth. He remembered Chaol’s name. Maybe she was reading too much into it but he remembered. He remembered a name he had only heard of in passing three years ago.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Point taken.”

He had lost that sparkle of amusement, “Listen, I’m not proud of what happened. It will never happen again. Not in reality-”

“Nothing happened,” Aelin finished for him, and he nodded.

“Nothing happened. We had one conversation, that’s it. No conflict of interest, Aelin, I promise.”

Aelin nodded, “Good. And it’s Miss Ashryver Galathynius, I have both my parents' names.”

Surprise shone in his eyes before he chuckled slightly, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Whatever Aelin was going to say vanished from her mind the second her eyes caught his, the green slightly shining with the room’s light. They were almost as dark as the leaves that dressed the trees in the oakwald forest where she, Celaena, and Aedion used to take camping trips every summer.

It was strangely calming to look at him, even if everything seemed to turn to hell around.

Aelin managed to look away, shaking her head to get rid of that damn feeling she seemed to have whenever he was around. “I-I have a class.”

“Oh,” he said and then seemed to realize, “Oh, yeah. Sorry for keeping you longer. Go.”

Aelin nodded, but she didn’t walk away. No, her gaze lowered on his hand. Empty hand, no ring. What? How? Why?

He followed her gaze, hiding his hand mere seconds after in his pocket. “It’s- complicated.”

It could mean so much, not that it was Aelin’s concern. Professor. He was her professor, even if there was a possibility that he’s not married anymore. “You don’t have to say anything,” Aelin answered. “I hope things will get better for you.”

“Thanks, and good luck with your studies.”

Aelin shrugged, “I don’t need luck.”

She walked to the door, holding herself back from wishing you a good day. She needed to be as far as possible from him.

This conversation had been for closure, wasn’t it? To be clear with each other: it meant nothing to no one. So, why did Aelin feel like she was the furthest away from closure? She took one deep breath and then focused on the emptiness that had been there for years, right inside her. Better that than having to deal with complicated feelings for a person she should only feel neutral about.

••••••

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[llyncooljones]

four moments and a forehead kiss - twelve days of rowaelin.

ao3 || masterlist || twelve days of rowaelin '21 masterlist

prompt: a winter ball

word count: 3107

trigger warnings: language, mentions of war, injuries, military.

tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp @rowanaelin @fireheartwhitethorn4ever @themoonthestarsthesuriel

galathynius headquarters, midday.

“Drugs?” His voice is incredulous as he questions her, confused and surely thinking that he’s heard her wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

“Yes, drugs. Weed, coke, your average fucking heroin. Maybe a little LSD for your apparent hallucinations. Possibly something else.” She states as if it’s obvious, as f he couldn’t be dumber for thinking he heard her wrong.

“Aelin, honey, you know damn well I’m not on drugs. And you know damn well not to talk to me like that, especially not while we’re both at work.” He takes a moment, pausing before he once again wrecks Aelin’s life. Like a bullet to the heart, through and through. “With the recent threats on my life, fucking cowards they are: sending emails to me. What the fuck happened to the old-fashioned way, a sniper rifle, and a public appearance, what’s so bad about a public assassina—”

“—Dad! Jesus H. Christ. Can we not, please can we not talk about your desire for a proper killing, a proper death. And can we please get back to the previous point you made.”

“Of course, of course. Right, recent threats against me, you going to the winter ball in my stead. And even though there are no threats currently against you personally, we have to expect there to be a risk of you being made a target. And in the event that you do become a target, you’ll need protection, someone to watch your six.”

“I already have protection, I always have a knife on me—you know this, dad—and I know how to handle a gun. Your freaky parenting made sure of that. And, you know, him.”

“Yes, I do know him. But, honey, you only have eyes in the back of your head when you have mischievous children and without eyes in the back of your head or fucking Spidey senses, I cannot ensure you are safe at all times. And this is why I’ve brought in a personal bodyguard for you.”

Aelin feels the sudden and compulsive desire to punch her dad in the face, sock him right in the nose, spark his fucking jaw. She imagines it would make this whole ‘threats against my life’ and ‘here have a personal bodyguard’ dilemma so much easier to deal with.

Her mind is going a million miles per hour, spinning and spinning and spinning round and round and round. She can’t hear herself think over the panic and the stress and the sudden horror of having someone watching her at all times. Of having to rely on someone.

She hasn’t put the weight of her life in anyone’s palm since him, and what good it has done her to keep it in her own palm since. No tears, no stress, no heartbreak. Just a smooth sail over calm seas to tropical islands.

“And to give me peace of mind, I’ve trusted you in the hands of the man I trust most. Of the very best in the business. Terrasen’s very own war hero and pretty much my pseudo-son.”

Aelin’s heart hasn’t skipped a beat in fifteen fucking years. Her breathing hasn’t stuttered in fifteen fucking years. Not since she was eighteen, not in the fifteen years since then and now. Now, as she stands taller, fiercer, older.

Aelin’s heart hasn’t skipped a beat since him. Her breathing hasn’t stuttered since him. Not since him, not in the fifteen years since then and now.

Not when she met Sam, not when she loved Sam in the dulled way you love the second-best, the replacement, the successor, not when Sam died a tragic and heroic death saving her life. Not then.

Not when she met Chaol, not when Chaol broke her heart in the less painful, less permanent way a heart breaks the second time over, not when he broke off their relationship cruelly. Not then.

Not when she met Dorian, not when Dorian confessed him compelling, undying, relentless, deep love for Aelin, not when Dorian broke things off finally realising Aelin didn’t love him. Not then.

But now, now her heart skips a beat. Now her breathing stutters.

“Dad… No. Please, no. say you didn’t. No, no, no. Gods, I cannot believe you right now. You’d seriously do this to me, you’d seriously fucking put me in the same fucking country as him. You know damn fucking well how bad I was when he left, and now you’re making him… You’re making me.” Aelin’s mind is slowly slipping from her, panic filling her head, the thought of seeing him again, the thought of how what they were.

Her skin crawls, she shivers suddenly, she’s got phantom touches on her arms and neck, the wind is lifting her hair, goosebumps pebbling along her body. She is the living, breathing, personification of anticipation.

A knock sounds at the thick, wooden door to her father’s office, radiating through the room and sending Aelin’s heart into a panicked rhythm, into a stressed recreation of the pain he caused. Of what his leaving left her as, of what his departure did to her.

“That’ll be him. And Aelin, you have to know that I did this with only the intention to keep you safe and away from the damage I could cause you. I have no ill intentions when assigning him as your guard, only the hope that he’ll live up to the ‘hype’, as you young’uns like to call it.” He pauses again, sending a meaningful look of only love and adoration and hope to her before opening his mouth once more, “Come in! Door’s open.”

She wishes the door handle squealed when pushed down or when twisted, wishes that the hinges screeched when the door is opened, wishes she had something to distract her from the sudden and all-consuming knowledge that it’s him behind that door, that it’s him.

She hears the steady thuds of shoes against varnished wood flooring, hears the subtle click of the door as he closes it behind himself. She can’t help but think of the tongue-lashing her father had given him when the younger version of him had left the back door opens and letting the cold air in. As if the Galathynius family couldn’t afford the price increase on the heating bill.

She knows he hasn’t registered her presence. Knows because he hasn’t let out that shuddering breath he always did when he saw her.

But now she’s stuck wondering if he still has the same habits and reactions and mannerisms, he did fifteen years ago. Now she’s wondering if she’s the only one who hasn’t changed, if she was supposed to change when they broke up. Maybe she should’ve stopped the betraying habit of twirling her hair when she’s nervous, or biting her bottom lip when she’s horny, or biting the tip of her tongue when she’s pissed.

“Sir.”

Oh, fuck.

He sounds the same, but better. The already deep voice has only got deeper. The accent he held onto through pure determination is back and stronger. The rolling way he speaks it still some sort of delicious hypnotism on her body, sending her shivering and biting her bottom lip.

And she hasn’t even seen him.

“I’ve known you most of your life, kid. How’d you feel if I started addressing you as Warrant Officer First Class Whitehorn. Rhoe, please.” Her dad’s voice is fond and soft, gentle in a way it rarely is. Only ever around her, Aedion. And him back when they were children.

“Fine, Rhoe,” his voice is teasing, a slow smile undoubtedly spreading across that harshly angled face right about now. He was always quick to smile around her family, and quick to frown around anyone else, “Why’d you want to see me anyway. I’ve been out nearly a month now and I hadn’t heard from you until yesterday evening. It begs the question of just how much you love me, doesn’t it.”

So much, so, so, so much, she almost answers, too much really.

“Kid, you’ve surpassed any and every expectation I ever had of you, you’ve done more for this country than most could even dream of. You’ve made me prouder than proud of you, but I know how much you’ve lost in these years. Figured you’d want a few weeks to heal the best you can in a few weeks before I saddle you with a new assignment.”

“Yeah, alright. In response to that, I guess I should warn you that a pissed Aedion is going to rush this office tonight and demand to know why you haven’t contacted me. Even after all the war, I guess there is a little kindness left in me.” The little hitch in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by her, urging her to feel sorry for him.

She almost does, she almost turns to hug him and kiss his cheeks and strokes a hand down his spine before she reminds herself that he broke her heart and that she, the whole of her, mind, heart, body, and soul hate him.

“That fucking nephew of mine, mad little man. Back to my email, I’m hiring your newly available services to protect something dear to me. I understand that this isn’t your first rodeo as a protection detail, nor as a protector to my something dear. But I must make myself painfully clear in saying that if anything happens to my something dear, I will be doing that very same thing to you.” Her father clapped two worn hands together before letting out a crazed laugh while something dangerously sneaky gleamed in his eyes. “Glad to see you’ve already signed the contract I emailed over, those e-signatures are real handy, aren’t they.”

“Yeah, they sure are. And f you don’t mind me asking, what is your something dear I’m supposed to be protecting—”

“—Swear to the fucking gods, if I am referred as something once more, I will punch you both in the face so hard you taste my fist every time you fucking breath.”

“Someone dear, then. If it so pleases you, your royal highness. No matter her title, I introduce to you, your protectee.” Her dad’s eyes shined and sparkled and shimmered, obviously excited.

Aelin stands in a vision of blonde hair, eternal grace, and red-bottomed high heels. She’s all folded arms and furrowed brows, a slight frown only accentuating the depth of the lines around her lips, prim and proper dress suddenly too tight and overwhelmingly scandalous.

She feels unbearably naked beneath his gaze, stripped bare to her very core and being stared through as if she’s a window and the answers to every question he’s ever thought of lie beyond her. Her eyes had been trained on the doorframe just above his head, never straying from the beautiful carvings and decorative details.

Now they do.

His hair is that same white-blonde, silver-toned and still so gorgeously thick. What had once been long, and luscious now sits in a strict buzz cut, trimmed so harshly she can almost see his scalp. Her mind flicks to every evening she had spent braiding his hair, intricate braids that had trailed down his back and shoulders. He had always said he would keep his hair long for her just so he could feel the delicious torture of her nails on his scalp, her nimble fingers twisting and bending and eventually tugging.

His forehead is layered with lines, more prominent as his face changes from one emotion to the next, as he feels too many things all at once and can’t place that cold, unfeeling mask he loves so much into place. She remembers when he barely had any lines, just a long, thick scar from where he cracked his head open when they were three. She wonders if it’s still there. Wonders if he wore sunscreen as he fought in the desert, wonders if he didn’t and that’s why he has this weathered look that she will never admit is sexy because… skin cancer.

Thick, fluffy, perfectly trimmed and maintained brows rest below those lines, a darker shade of blond than the rest of the hair on his head. The furrow slightly, in the way they always did when he felt too much and couldn’t stop doing so. Three little lines appear at the top of his nose, between his brows. Brows she most certainly would pay money to have put on her won face. Gods-damn, those Whitehorn genes never did disappoint her.

His eyes. Holy fucking gods, his eyes. The same green they’ve always been. Emerald, forest, sea, dark, fucking miraculous. Otherworldly, ethereal. Bright and poignant, telling stories his lips could never replicate. Unlike the happy innocence in them, as he was a child, his eyes seem haunted, telling stories of horrors no one should ever lay witness to. They seem a little more sunken, a little more hooded. Crow’s feet stretching out faintly, meeting the slight purple tinge beneath his eyes.

He's not sleeping well, she realises, instantly thinking of ways to help, maybe chamomile will help, a lavender spray, something to ease his muscles before bed. Instantly falling back into old patterns, instantly falling back to fifteen years ago, when she loved him and cared for him.

His nose is more broken than it had been when he left. Where there had been two bumps in the bridge—one for each time Aelin had punched in the nose when they were ten and he was cheeky—his nose is now some sort of improperly set mess, telling a story of too much pain for someone a few years past thirty. A scar waves along the bridge, a highlighted white against the caramelised tone of the rest of him. She thinks about how it could have got there, thinks about what he could have gone through to get it. She finds herself shuddering as she thinks of answers.

A perfectly arched cupid’s bow, a slightly fatter bottom lip than the top, a scar running through each, looking painful and not fully healed. Perfectly pink, a delectable shade she always found herself envious of as a teenager. She thinks back on the way they had felt against her own, the way they moved, pried her own open, felt as she licked them bit them, teased them. She can’t stop thinking. She wishes she could. She wishes she couldn’t see it all like it’s playing on a cinema screen before her.

And his bone structure. She could write songs about the way his cheekbones curve, the way they carve his face into something that is simultaneously angelic and sinister, the shadow of them just edible. She could write sonnets about the harsh line of is jaw, angular where it meets the rest of his skull, beneath all his gorgeous features. Only enhanced by the shadow of dark, dark blonde stubble, tamed into a delicious show of carelessness. His browbone? She’s left speechless, gasping for air.

Too much.

Too fucking much.

“Shit,” is all she can muster before she’s stomping through the room in her heels and slamming his body out of the way—fucking hell is he muscular, harder than stone, how the fuck did she push him—and yanking the door open, before slamming it closed.

She rests her head against the carefully carved wood, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuckity, fuck, fuck. Fuckity, fuckity, fuck, fuck.” She whispers, like she’s Hugh Grant, in Four Weddings and a Funeral, about to get married to Anna Chancellor.

the ball, late evening.

She’d barely got a look at Rowan earlier, hardly seen what he had been wearing backed against that damned door before she’d shoved him away with all her insurmountable strength and left the room. She might have seen a suit jacket, a white shirt, black trousers. That’s all, from what she can remember.

All she can think is that haunted look he’d given her just before she slammed the door.

Like all the horrors he’d seen while serving: all the death, all the wounds, all the aftermaths, and the poverty, all the hate, all the injustice. Like all the horrors were nothing compared to the look she had given him, one of barely contained hate and anger, one of impossible yearning and need. Like he’d endure it all over and over, whatever had given him those scars, that tortured look in his eyes, the nightmares that stop him sleeping, just so he’d never have to see her look at him like that again.

Now, she’s slipping from the limousine her father had ordered, holding out a well-manicured hand and waiting until it’s clasped in his hand to exit the car. One high heeled foot in front of the other as her dress is pulled from the car by her movements.

A floor-length gown of bursting, fiery red. All tight sleeved, simple bodice, curve-hugging goodness. Until the material is loose and flaring around her knees, pooling in a puddle of blood at her feet. Like her heart drip-drip-dripping from its state of permanent break.

Now, she’s putting one foot in front of the other, in time with his steps, as the red carpet crunches beneath their red-bottom shoes. The cameras are flashing, the questions are being shouted out, cute and fluffy, crude and harsh. Asking her who her new beau is, asking her all sorts of other things.

Things that her mind screaming because they hut, things that have Rowan’s hand tightening around her and his smile becoming thinner and thinner in a dead giveaway—to her—of his emotive state.

Now, she’s entering the ball, heels click-click-clacking against the polished marble, Rowan’s dress shoes clack-clack-clicking in time with her. Shoes polished to perfection, a perfect match to his dress uniform. Medals sitting proud and shining on his breast, not a hair out of place.

Now, she’s making haste as she stumbles away from the cold embrace of a stranger. Heading towards the ancient stone balcony. The trailing plants and blooming flowers despite the sub-frozen temperatures. Snow is falling slowly, drifting in the wind, as lost in the elements and Aelin is in her feelings.

So lost she doesn’t feel his presence until he’s right there beside her.

Until he’s slipping off his jacket, careful not to mess up his perfect cuffs and cufflinks.

Until he’s lifting those bulky arms and draping the thick, expensive fabric around her shoulders. Until she feels the weight of his memories on her own shoulders. Until he drops a chaste, meaningful kiss to the crown of her head. Until his arm is around her shoulders, fingertips brushing her sternum.

Until he’s murmuring: quiet, private, perfect “Fireheart,”.

[cloudywriter]

promposals

rowaelin month - september 1st

prompt: i just realized i’m desperately in love with you 

hey guys!! it’s finally rowaelin month and i’m literally so excited you have no idea. sadly, i don’t have time to do every day but i’ll do as many as i can. i can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with. happy writing/reading! (this is just some straight fluff) 

masterlist, AO3

~~~

The school was abuzz, anticipation hung thick in the hallways during each passing period. It had been that way for a week or so now with prom on the horizon. Everyone was constantly on high alert for the next promposal, most desperately hoping it would be their own. Girls hung around their lockers inconspicuously for far longer than necessary and boys tried to play it cool while secretly fretting over who to ask and how to do it.

Rowan was over it pretty quickly, but he’d likely have to suffer through the next month of promposal after promposal. Today was no different, there was an asking in the parking lot before school, one in his first-period English class, another in the hallway after. He couldn’t escape it. 

Thankfully, Rowan wasn’t quite as grumpy as he used to be due to a certain blonde worming into his life a few years ago but he was still Rowan. Sullen and reserved as ever. That fateful blonde being the only one to draw him from his shell. 

Rowan sighed, aimlessly scrolling around on his phone. It was the passing period before his 3rd-period class, AP Biology, and Rowan was leaning against Aelin’s locker.

Aelin always stopped by her locker after her photography class to put her camera away and then they’d head to class together. It was their routine, the same every day. Not yet broken during their entire senior year which was quickly coming to a close. That was a subject Rowan didn’t want to broach though.

He cleared his head of those unsavory thoughts. Rowan could tell yet another proposal was gearing up, Ilias came around the corner holding a poster board in one hand and a bouquet of assorted flowers in the other. At that moment too, Aelin turned the corner, giving Rowan a small smile as she hurried towards him. 

Rowan’s cold resting face tugged into a smirk as she approached her already open locker. Rowan always took it upon himself to open it for her in advance, Aelin tended to fumble with the locks that required a specific number combination and artful twisting. 

As Aelin stored away her camera and shut her locker door with a thud, a gasp down the hallway had them both turning around. 

Ansel was there, her hand cupping her mouth, clearly unsuspecting of Ilias and his proposal. They both watched as Ansel excitedly agreed to prom with Ilias and took the flowers from his outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug. 

Aelin turned her attention away from the happy couple and began to walk towards their next class, Rowan following suit. They progressed for a bit in silence until Aelin spoke up. 

“I hope Chaol asks me to prom soon,” she confessed. 

Rowan almost choked, that single sentence baffling him. “Chaol?” He asked incredulously. 

“Or Dorian,” Aelin shrugged, crossing her arms in front of her. Rowan was suddenly feeling very panicked, like a fish that had accidentally discovered land, flopping around in search of water in a frenzy. To say he felt confused was an understatement. Rowan hadn’t given prom much of his brainpower. He hadn’t even considered asking anyone. He’d just assumed he’d go with Aelin. Why would he have thought otherwise? They did everything together; he’d expected prom would be no different.

When they sat down at their blacktop table in biology Rowan silently floundered as he tried to think over this revelation. Why would Aelin want to go with someone else? Usually, before class started, he and Aelin would joke around until the teacher told them it was time to reel it in but today Rowan stared ahead, picking at the skin of his thumb. A nervous tick he’d developed throughout high school. 

Should he ask someone else then? He couldn’t even think of anyone else he tolerated enough to spend the night with. Maybe Lyria? She was nice enough, always sharing her notes with him in English when he was too busy with lacrosse to do the reading. She was quiet, soft-spoken. Absolutely nothing like the girl sat next to him. That thought made him frown. Remelle? No, he could barely stand Remelle, but he knew she liked him so at least she’d definitely say yes. 

Rowan was pretty much out of luck. Aelin and his friend group were to whom his time was devoted to, he didn’t branch out much beyond them. 

He thought of Aelin all dressed up, maybe in a golden gown that catered to her love of theatrics. Possibly in a deep green that complemented her bright eyes and skin tone. He imagined her with her hair loosely curled and flowing down her back. The delicate, golden Kingsflame silhouette necklace he’d gotten her for her 18th birthday clasped around her neck. It was easy for Rowan to conjure up that image but he couldn’t picture her looking like that and holding onto Chaol’s arm. It felt so intensely wrong to even consider it. 

It was always him. He always imagined her with him. They were a package deal in Rowan’s mind, but apparently not in Aelin’s. 

Aelin seemed to be catching onto Rowan’s internal dilemma. Throughout the duration of the class, he could feel her watching him out of the corner of her peripheral, trying to gauge what could be wrong. She stayed quiet though and dutifully continued her notes that mostly consisted of a collection of small doodles. Rowan couldn’t help but watch and wonder how she truly felt about him.

For the rest of the school day, Rowan pretty much blew Aelin off. He sat between Lorcan and Fenrys at lunch instead of the 2 seats on the right side of the circular table that always housed Aelin and himself. He told her not to wait up in the stands during his lacrosse practice and to head home on her own instead. He could tell she was confused maybe even a little hurt but Rowan couldn’t bring himself to push aside his mass of feelings that had him acting strange. 

He wasn’t even completely sure what was wrong with himself. The thought of Aelin accompanying another guy to prom shouldn’t affect him like it was; they were only best friends nothing more. She had free reign to go with whoever she wanted and she could get whoever, Aelin was a beautiful girl he wasn’t blind to that. He’d just thought it’d be him. 

All throughout lacrosse practice, Rowan was distracted, missing the ball or the goal when he had it, a stark difference from his usual skill. His coach had already pulled him aside once and asked if he was feeling okay only to be given a grunted yeah before putting him back in. He only grew more upset with Aelin as he pondered the day’s events instead of keeping his head in the game. Some part of him knew it was irrational but he couldn’t help it. Why wouldn’t she want to share one of their last big moments of high school together?  

And that’s how he continued to feel as he made the short drive home with his hefty lacrosse bag weighing down his shoulder and his school bag heavy on his back. When he finally entered the home he sighed, the scent of his mother’s cooking filling his nostrils. Honestly, he’d rather stay up in his room and stew than sit through family dinner right now but he knew it’d only prompt more questions from his parents. So he dropped his things by the door much to his mother’s chagrin and collapsed into one of the dining table’s chairs. 

“Feeling alright, son?” His father’s silver brow rose, already catching on to his foul mood. 

“Yeah, just tired,” Rowan confirmed, taking a sip of water. 

His mother entered then, a dish of pasta cupped between her oven mitts that she placed in the center of the table. “How was practice?” She asked sweetly, stripping her hands of their cover and sitting down. 

“It was fine.”

Rowan’s mother and father exchanged a look between themselves. He was normally much more talkative, always giving them updates on school, on plays they’d done during practice, on Aelin. Rowan chose to ignore their concerned expressions and instead served himself a helping of dinner silently. 

His phone buzzed then from inside the pocket of his shorts. Rowan pulled it out to check the message and frowned at the screen. 

fire-breathing b queen👑 : r u okay? 

He stuck his phone back into his pocket instead of typing a reply and forced himself to eat the rest of his dinner. He only half-listened to his parents’ conversation about their days and what was going on in his dad’s office. Rowan knew he was stewing again, falling into a spiral of uncertainty. 

“Rowan, honey, are you sure you’re okay?” His mother pressed, worry lining her brow. 

Rowan’s lips formed a thin line. No, he wasn’t okay. 

In a split-second decision, Rowan decided he was done dancing around whatever was going on between him and Aelin. “I need to go,” Rowan said suddenly, standing up from his chair that loudly scraped across the floor. His parents looked surprised by his outburst but didn’t stop him as he grabbed his keys from the little table by the front entrance and left. 

Rowan didn’t even need to look at the road to know the way to Aelin’s house. The route was in his bones now and within a few minutes he was pulling up in front of her large white house. He hopped out of his truck, not even bothering to lock the doors before he pounded on her green-painted front door. 

The door opened with a squeak and he saw Aelin standing there in one of her nightgowns that drove Rowan absolutely mad. 

“You’re not going to prom with Chaol,” he rasped, pushing the hair falling on his forehead back with his hand. 

“Huh?” Aelin was clearly confused as to why Rowan had come knocking at her door without preamble. 

“You’re not going with him,” Rowan once again declared, standing his ground, ready to get everything off his chest before he lost the courage. 

“Ro, I don’t get what you’re going on about. He hasn’t even asked me and if he doesn’t ask me I don’t know who’d I go with,” she admitted, her hand still holding the door open and her mouth in a serious line. 

Rowan surges forward at that, gripping both of Aelin’s hands in his own. “You’d go with me, Aelin. I want you to go with me,” he pleaded with her, lifting her hands up to his chest. “Aelin,” he continued, “I don’t want to go with anyone else but you. I want to do everything with you, go everywhere with you. Gods, Aelin, you’re like my reason to breathe, to get up in the morning.”

“Row-” Aelin tried to interrupt, her blue eyes going wide. 

“No, just let me finish, I- I know that sounds crazy and I know it’s so out of the blue and you didn’t expect me to show up outside your door like this and start professing my feelings,” Rowan was rambling now he knew. Everything he wanted to say to her was running through his mind like a freight train so much so he struggled to express it. The words were jumbled in his mind as if they were a bowl of alphabet soup in a blender. He just needed her to know how he felt. 

“I- I just, I thought about you going to prom with Chaol or some other guy all damn day and I hated it. Gods, I couldn’t figure out why I hated it so much, it just it- it felt so wrong. Fireheart, I want you to be with me. Gods, I think I’m so desperately in love with you I’m going to combust or something.” Rowan was getting flustered now, he knew his face was burning and he was sweating, maybe from the humidity or maybe from the sheer weight of what he was confessing to his best friend.  “Rowan,” Aelin started once again, her face contorted in pure shock. 

“I know you might not feel the same Aelin, I knew I came here risking that, and if you don’t feel the same-”

“Rowan!” Aelin said with more force, bringing her hands to cup his face. “Listen to me,” she pleaded. 

Rowan stopped trying to fight her and looked at her. He felt as though his stomach might fall out. His nerves were so intense as he stared into Aelin’s golden-ringed eyes. 

“You’re just so fucking stupid,” Aelin breathed. 

Rowan’s brow furrowed, he certainly hadn’t expected her to say that. “Wha-” he began. 

He couldn’t even finish his thought before Aelin’s lips descended upon his own. She cradled his face in her hands as her soft lips moved against his in a slow rhythm. Rowan’s brain stalled and struggled to catch up with what the hell was happening. 

He just knew this felt right, this felt so gods-damn right. 

His hands were loosely wrapped around her wrists and they traveled lightly over her arms and moved to rest on her back and pull her into him. 

Her body molded against his own. It felt like the final bit of a 50,000 piece puzzle had finally fallen into place after years of pouring over it. Rowan kissed Aelin back with just as much fever, desperate to keep her lips on his own. He brushed his tongue along the seam of her lips and she pulled back. 

They both stood there, gulping down air as they stared at each other trying to navigate this unimaginable revelation. 

“You’re- you’re not going to prom with Chaol, right?” Rowan finally managed to ask. 

“No,” Aelin breathed. “I’ll go with you, I’ll always go with you.” 

Their lips met once again.

~~~

day one down. stay tuned and have a wonderful day, xoxo

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 3

Here is act 3!!! Thank you so much for all of your enthusiasm so far! Hope you enjoy :)

8.6k - masterlist - ao3

--

Aelin has never really thought of herself as someone with a lot of friends. She’s always had Elide, Aedion and Lysandra, but they almost fall into a separate category. Like what they’ve been through surpasses friendship, and she thinks at this point Elide and Lysandra are as much her family as Aedion.

Throughout her years in the industry she hasn’t made many friends, Chaol and Dorian are probably the only two, but she's learned how things work. It didn't take her long to realise that all the girls she met at auditions, and bonded with over all of the things they had in common, would have stabbed her right in the back at the earliest opportunity.

It's cutthroat, but she can't say she's never succumbed to the temptations.

She’d be lying if she said she’d never pretended she was there to audition for another character just to get the other actress to spill her analysis of the character. She can’t say it was unintentional when she’d leave the audition room and then pretend to take a phone call where she’d discuss how pleased the casting director had been with her take and had promised to call, watching the faces fall of the other hopefuls she waltzed past.

She can’t say she’d never do it again.

That said, she feels like she has a good thing going with Fenrys, Manon and Rowan. They've hung out a couple of times and she likes them admittedly more than she thought she would at first. The dynamic is fast and snappy, funny and sarcastic, and she can feel herself getting back into the old motions.

Aelin knows they’re friends now, and it feels really fucking good, but she has one concern. She’s not entirely sure that what she feels for Rowan can be described as friendship and she’s kicking herself for letting it happen. The physical attraction she can excuse, he looks how he looks and she’s defenseless against that, but the rest? The rest is where she’s really let herself go.

He’s opened up to them a lot more now, and they spend a lot more time together than they did at the start. Just last week she had thrown herself into her seat at the end of a long day of shooting and plunked her feet in his lap. She had expected him to throw them off and growl something at her, but he had simply rested his left hand on her ankle and continued to scroll through his phone with his right.

It had felt far too easy to settle into his touch, and far too enjoyable to have the heat of his skin against her own.

Even so, there’s a level of detachment to his interaction with them. He falls somewhere between bemused dad and despairing lecturer tasked with herding a group of unruly children through a life or death venture. He curses actors all day long but he’s just as dramatic. There are moments when she catches him beginning to smile at a comment from Fenrys or the bickering she and Manon do before he halts himself and seems to rein it back in.

She wants to see him grin.

It’s kind of weird to think back to the first week of shooting and how unsure she felt around them, how insecure she was of her own ability compared to theirs, but by now she’s pretty sure she’s past the worst of that and she doesn’t want to waste any more time doubting herself, at least in comparison to them. It helps when Rowan makes little comments like nice job, Aelin or when she catches the nod he does after she nails a scene, especially when he tries to hide it.

She posted a picture on Instagram of the four of them from set last week, her and Manon crouched at the front wrapped up again in the massive coats they give them on set, their faces almost completely covered by the puffed up collars, and Rowan and Fenrys stood behind them, their arms crossed across their chests and faces twisted into overly dramatic imitations of anger. It had taken some pleading and possible bribery from Fenrys to get Rowan to agree to the pose, but they had succeeded in the end.

She had captioned it so we stole their coats… and tagged each of them, watching as the likes came flooding in. Only seconds later the comments had begun to run a bit wild.

This is going to be so good I can already tell.

fenrys looks so hot fuck me up

ARMS!ARMS!ARMS!ARMS!

Are they dating?

She stopped reading the comments pretty quickly after that.

They’re about a third of the way into shooting, and Aelin knows what she’s accomplished so far is some of her best work. It hasn’t been easy, but she’s put hours and hours of her time into understanding her character and she feels like she truly knows Feyre, and almost sees some of herself in her. There are differences of course, Aelin isn’t quite as naive as Feyre or as forgiving, but they’ve both been dealt a shitty hand, and Aelin likes to think she’s working just as hard as Feyre to pick herself back up.

She finishes the take, and slaps her usual high-five against Fenrys’ palm and sends her regular nod over to Rowan. Good? Her nod asks. Good, his own gesture returns. She tucks her smile away as she begins to wander over to where he’s stood chatting with a producer.

She’s built a habit of going over to him once they finish shooting, she wants to seek him out constantly, and she feels drawn to him in a way that she’s beginning to lose the fight against. She’s about halfway towards him when she spots a tall head of brown hair making its way towards her.

She barely has time to process before there are a pair of strong arms around her waist and she’s being lifted up and swung around, her feet dangling inches above the ground.

“Hello, superstar.” His voice is deep in her ear and she can feel the vibrations where she buries her face into his neck.

“Gods! I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.”

She gasps as he places her back down on the ground and she can finally smile up at Chaol. Taking in the chestnut-brown of his hair and the faint creases beginning at the corners of his rich brown eyes. Gods, she’s missed him.

She’s known he’d be visiting the set at some point. The Crescent City is his baby, a script he’s been working on for years, and she knows he couldn’t stomach leaving it all to Rowan without any supervision.

He had first mentioned it to her a few years ago, but back then it was nothing more than an idea. Aelin knew he had been chipping away at it in the background for a while and it wasn’t a surprise when he first sent it to her. It’s different now though, now that there’s a budget and a set and actual progress made in getting it on screen.

It feels like a big deal to her; she can’t imagine how Chaol feels.

She had never dreamed though, through all of their midnight conversations about it and their half-dreaming out loud discussions, that she would be the one to star in it.

Chaol just grins at her, a twinkle in his eyes that she knows means he’s happy, and says “thought I’d surprise you.”

“It’s definitely a surprise.” She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck for a second time. She squeezes him tight and breathes him in, his smell is comforting and it makes her feel young again. “How long are you here for?”

He gives her waist a short squeeze, reminding her that his hands are still resting there with hers still up on his shoulders. It’s not the closest she’s ever been to him, and it doesn’t cross her mind for her touching him so freely to be an issue.

“A couple of days.” He smiles down at her again. “Lunch?”

“Of course, let me change first?” She asks, releasing his shoulders and turning to walk back to her trailer. He holds a hand out, as if to say lead the way.

She sets off as he follows, and she can feel the lightness of the wide smile across her face. It’s a kind of comfort now that Chaol is here, he’s taken care of her for so many years and his presence grounds her in a way she hasn’t really found with many other people.

Rowan still stands with the producer behind where some of the team are tinkering with the filming equipment. His brow is drawn into a frown and the producer standing with him has begun to look profoundly uncomfortable.

The take was good, she knows that, and when he runs a jagged hand over his face a jolt of concern strikes her. He looks anguished, or frustrated, and she wonders how he’s soured so quickly after the silent exchange they shared mere moments ago.

His gaze snaps to hers and it’s a powerful thing. His stare weighs heavily into her, so much so she wants to look away and her steps falter. The stumble is barely perceptible, but she sees it and thinks maybe he does too. There’s something thorny in the pull of his brows and the twist of his mouth and she wants to go over, ease his troubles, but that’s not her place. And Chaol is inches behind her following her lead.

Rowan’s eyes flick to Chaol and his mouth twists further. And not to get ahead of herself yet again, but surely not, right? His gaze switches back to rest on her, only for a second longer before he mouths something short and sharp to the producer and disappears.

Aelin shakes it off. She might think they’re friends, but as has become her mantra, he’s her boss. What she needs is something gentle and simple and uncomplicated. In the real world, everything she wants from Rowan is decidedly complicated.

Sitting opposite Chaol is a place she’s been many times before. More often than not, Dorian would have taken up the mantle at Chaol’s side, the pair of them closer than brothers. They have the kind of relationship she thinks truly cannot exist for people other than the two of them.

The level of understanding they share, the lengths they would go to for each other, it’s unparalleled and she longs to find a bond like that one day.

When she was younger being sat in a position like this, opposite Chaol, so close they could whisper to converse, would have been a dream. She had a bit of an infatuation with him when she first met him; he was a few years older than her, charming, handsome and calming. He had been her entrance to the world she lives in now and he had kept her safe and taken care of her.

She had thought he was everything she wanted.

She had realised pretty quickly, after going in for an ill advised kiss that he had swerved, that that would never be an option for them. He had let her down kindly and gently, which she appreciates now, even if it felt like a blow at the time.

He hadn’t let her pull back from him though, he had kept her close until she eventually got over the embarrassment and was able to look at him without blushing. It’s not something she dwells on now, she was young and naive and she could have done a lot worse than Chaol.

He was who she had gone to when she had met Sam. She had waxed poetic to him about the boy with the curly brown hair and the shy smile. She smiles lightly to herself at the thought of him, what he would make of where she’s at now.

He’d kiss her cheek with his arms around her waist, boasting how his girl, his baby, was a star in the making. She swallows the thought, struck by both the image and the lingering pain it brings, but also by the knowledge that she’s gone a couple of days without thinking of him.

She hasn’t thought of the boy with the brown eyes in a few days, hasn’t woken up screaming in even more. She breathes past the panic that threatens in her throat, both at the idea that she hasn’t thought of Sam for a while and the reasons there could be for that.

“How is the love of my life?” She focuses back on Chaol and watches him try very hard not to choke on his mouthful of his drink.

He had picked the cafe, even though she’s been in Rifthold for a while it is still far more his space than hers, and he knows the hidden gems like this that she isn’t privy to yet. It’s rustic and cosy, the brick walls have colourful bunting draped between them and none of the chairs inside match. She’ll have to come back if the food is good, the atmosphere inside is relaxed and busy enough that she can feel completely anonymous. She doesn’t want to leave, maybe next time she can bring a book.

“My beautiful wife is well,” he manages once he swallows, and she smirks at how he knows exactly what she’s asking. “Almost past the second trimester now, and still refusing to slow down.”

That sounds exactly like Yrene. She says as much and Chaol nods wearing the expression of a man who, if he didn’t love his wife so much, would be tired of chasing after her.

Yrene is a whirlwind of energy and efficiency and it’s why she’s one of Aelin’s favourite people. She’s full of exciting tales and inspiration, that is, when she can get Yrene to slow for a second enough to catch up. She probably doesn’t need her high paced job as a doctor in Rifthold General Hospital, like, Chaol’s scripts are successful, he’s won a number of awards that sit in a special cabinet in their house, but that’s just how Yrene is.

Caring and kind and so, so smart. If Aelin didn’t do what she does, she’d love to be like Yrene.

“Second trimester?” She cries. “He’s almost here!”

Chaol is again at risk of choking. “Aelin, please. I still have a few months left to get ready.”

He looks almost panicked and she scoffs. “Chaol, please.” She mocks his tone perfectly and ignores the eye roll he gives her. “You were born ready. You’ve basically raised me for the past few years and look how well I’m doing.”

He laughs, and she smiles, it’s exactly the reaction she wanted.

“I’m not sure that’s the glowing compliment you think it is,” He says dryly and she just pokes her tongue out at him.

“Chaol,” she begins, seriously this time. “You are already the best dad I know, you’ll be fine. And if not, the baby has Yrene, so he’ll definitely be fine.”

He doesn’t bite on any of it, just looks bashfully to the table cloth and nods. She can’t resist one last comment.

“And even then, he’ll have me and Dorian.”

“Gods, Aelin. The thought will send me to an early grave.”

She tilts her head to the side and sketches a flip of her hair over her shoulder. The combination of her and Dorian and a baby probably would give Chaol a heart attack but she’ll embody her role as the cool aunt, and Dorian can more than handle the cool uncle.

“Do you not want your child to be cool?” She knows he’s barely finding her funny at this point but she’s missed him and she loves winding him up.

He’s saved from having to respond by the arrival of their food. She stares longingly at his burger and greasy side of fries and forces herself to take a mouthful of her wilted salad.

After a few bites she notices his expression, something pinched around the corners of his mouth, and she knows there's something he wants to say.

To say that Chaol is less invested in her sobriety than Aedion and Lysandra would be a lie, but he doesn’t question it as openly as they do, so she doubts what he wants to say is anything to do with that. She’s ordered an orange juice to spice it up, and he has a tap water that he ordered without question so she thinks he mustn’t be concerned.

“What?” She says slowly, whatever it is she wants to know, and the pain of waiting for him to spit it out was almost too much.

He shakes his head and pops another fry into his mouth. She can’t resist stealing one and a swipe of ketchup off his plate.

He begins carefully, after using his napkin to dab at the corner of his mouth. “How is it going? You read the script pretty early on, do you think…”

He trails off, and seems to pause while he considers his words, but she doesn’t need him to finish.

“Chaol, I think it’s going really well,” she says and it’s sincere. “And it’s not just because I’m in it.”

It’s far easier to crack jokes and reassure others than it is to be the one being reassured.

He shoots her an unimpressed look, but she knows her words have done their job. Even through her faults she knows he trusts her judgement.

“I feel like you asked that in a way that meant you thought it wasn’t going well.”

She’s fishing a little, but Chaol is a gossip at heart, even worse than Dorian despite how he’d deny it.

He sees right through her, but relents as he takes another bite of his burger. She stabs another bundle of lettuce, dipping it in a pool of dressing resting in the bottom of her bowl as he swallows and speaks.

“I didn’t think it would go badly, but Fenrys Moonbeam has a bit of a reputation, and I just hope he’s taking it seriously. I put a lot of work into it.” He pauses and Aelin just waits. It doesn’t seem like he’s quite done. “Rowan Whitethorn too. But I think his reputation is a bit different.”

It puts her in a bit of a weird position with a sharp taste in her mouth, wanting to defend her new friends to one of her oldest, but Chaol has to understand that how he sees them isn’t right.

“I don’t think either of them is quite how you think.” She says it gently because she doesn’t want to risk irritating Chaol with this. “Fenrys works really hard, you know. He’s putting a lot of work into understanding Rhys, Rowan too. He puts a lot of thought into what he does, he’s really smart.”

He’s watching her silently, his eyes shining with a question she doesn’t want to answer.

“You’ve written an incredible story Chaol, we all want to do it justice.”

The quirk of his eyebrow is somewhat impressed as he takes her in, but maybe there’s something more in there. Something that catches the difference between the way she talks about Fenrys compared to the way she talks about Rowan.

“I’m glad,” is all he says.

“It’s going well,” she says and truly believes it. “I’ve said it before, but it really is a work of art, Chaol.”

She pauses, her next words thick in her throat. “Thank you… for writing it, I mean. It means a lot to me, and I am honoured to play this part.”

He nods thankfully, and she knows he appreciates the compliment but his response is typical Chaol. Quiet and understated but shining with sincerity.

There’s a moment before the corner of his mouth pulls upwards and she knows he’s just about to turn the game around and tease her now.

“A part of me wishes I hadn’t written so many intimate scenes between them, the thought of you and Fenrys Moonbeam…” He trails off.

She tugs her lips inwards between her teeth, pleading with the blush on her neck not to rise. They haven’t got to those scenes yet, and she’s been avoiding the idea of them. She doesn’t want to think about what she’ll have to do with Fenrys in a couple of weeks.

Fenrys isn’t the problem though, she knows he’ll be professional and respectful. The problem is that Rowan will be there, watching them, watching her, and the idea plays with her in a dangerous way. Everything about Rowan feels dangerous to her, and gods if that isn’t half the draw.

“I know we joked before, but you do know you’re not my father? You’re worse than Aedion,” she laughs.

Chaol just shakes his head, “I’m allowed to look out for you.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but you’re only, what? Five years older than me?”

“Six. And Rowan Whitethorn is older than me.” The way he says it is noticeable, like he has a point to make.

“He is?”

So she didn’t know that, but it worries her how it doesn’t change things even a little bit. It doesn’t change how attractive he is, or the fact that she should be going nowhere near the idea of the two of them. She needs to call Elide, or her actual therapist.

“Yes, I think he was in the year above me at the Royal.”

She really doesn’t know all that much about him, hadn’t even known he went to the stage school in Adarlan.

What she knows is the fleeting moments she sees of him behind the camera, the expressions he makes when he’s impressed and when he’s not. She knows things like his coffee order, his hatred for the little pastries the catering department provide and how he doesn’t seem to drink alcohol. She knows about Lyria, but it’s from the internet, not him.

She doesn’t know him.

“Oh,” is all she manages.

Chaol eats another fry, watching her the whole time, and she wants him to look away. She has nothing to feel guilty about; they haven’t done anything. She has one, probably inadvisable, crush on her boss that she’ll speak to Elide about and get over. Then the movie will be done and she won’t ever have to see him again.

The dropping sensation in her stomach at the thought is less than desirable.

Chaol stays for a few days. He hangs around on set and sits in her chair while she films. It’s a pleasant kind of relief, tinged with an element of nostalgia, to have him around. He makes her feel like a kid again, and she feels herself looking towards him for approval when she desperately avoids how she wants to do the same to Rowan.

He relents on the second day, after having met Fenrys and Rowan properly, and admits to her that he thinks his baby is probably in good hands. She just says “I told you so,” because she’s a child and annoying Chaol is fun.

She’s sitting in Manon’s chair next to him, and they’re talking about Aedion. He and Chaol have a friendship she likes to pretend doesn’t stem from a mutual concern for her. Chaol is saying something about how he doesn’t envy Aedion’s schedule, but she’s barely listening.

Aelin’s watching where Rowan stands a few feet away. He’s wearing a soft-looking black sweatshirt and jeans, and she can’t help but imagine how it would feel to slip the sweatshirt on herself. How it would still be warm from his body, how the sleeves would trail way past her fingertips, how the smell of him would surround her.

He’s directing Manon, gesturing jaggedly with his hands and she’s nodding along. The shades of their hair almost match, Aelin notices absently, but she prefers the silver shine to Rowan’s compared to the clean-white of Manon’s. Rowan makes a gesture with his right hand and his fingers flex in a rhythmic movement, the elegant lengths of his fingers flowing freely in motion.

She wants to take that hand and put it on herself, she wants to run it down her side and between her thighs. She wants to take his fingers into her mouth and suck.

And like, what the fuck Aelin?

Texting Rowan is, objectively, a bad idea. Not that it’s a bad idea to text a colleague and ask to hang out, it’s just that that isn’t exactly what she wants to get from texting him. So yes; it’s a bad idea, and Aelin knows this, but she’s been thinking of doing it for a couple of days and the desire to do so hasn’t faded. She’s thought about it for long enough that she’s rationalised it, it’s not rash.

Aelin wants to know Rowan.

She taps away at her screen, hi rowan… No. That's not right. Aelin deletes it.

Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to… Nope. Not right either. She bites her lip while she backspaces the string of letters.

She wants to seem casual, so if he’s not into it it’s not awkward. Aelin’s a feminist, but she still doesn’t want to outright ask him out until she’s tested the waters a little more, got a bit of a better read on him and whether he could be into it or not.

She thinks he is, at least a little bit. She knows his eyes linger on her sometimes, sometimes her face, sometimes her arse. She likes it, but whether all he feels is attraction, or whether he feels the same as her is a mystery.

She still hasn’t spoken to Elide about it, but there’s a devil on her shoulder whispering that she’s probably past the point of no return already.

i’m sick of takeout, she types. want to go and grab a bite somewhere???

Aelin taps send before she can overthink it. She can always invite Fenrys to come along too if Rowan doesn’t seem keen on doing something just the two of us.

It’s not long before her phone buzzes with a response. You’re sick of takeout, so you want to go and eat out?

She chews the inside of her cheek, his response doesn’t really give her much. And while it’s not a rejection, it’s not a yes. Maybe her text was stupid, gods, why didn’t she think-

Her phone buzzes again. How about I cook something instead?

Much better. She smiles as she writes her response.

i don’t really want food poisoning :/// my boss might be a bit pissed if i can’t work

The bubble with the three dots pops up immediately, and her thumbs hover over the screen as she waits.

Ha. Ha. He sends, and she can’t fight the little laugh that escapes her as she imagines him rolling his eyes at her. His next text comes through pretty quickly. I’m on board with going out if you want, just thought something more private could be better.

And shit. There are a number of ways she could interpret that. Aelin’s trying not to read into things, things like Rowan saying he wants to go somewhere private with her, he could just be talking about paparazzi. Damn, he probably is just talking about paparazzi.

oh yeah sounds good actually but pls don’t poison me

He just sends a straight faced emoji.

Aelin leans back into her couch as he sends another follow up text.

Do you want to come here?

She could, but he hosted last time. And while she liked the atmosphere at Rowan’s house, she can’t deny that she likes the idea of him here. She likes the idea of seeing Rowan making his way around her kitchen, likes the idea of Rowan sitting opposite her at the end of this couch.

or you could come here????

She bites the corner of her nail as she stares at her screen, waiting for his response to come through.

Sure. I’ll swing by the store to grab some ingredients. How many people am I cooking for?

Aelin pauses, her thumbs hovering above the keyboard.

was thinking 2 but i can invite others if you want

She thinks that’s pretty clear, but it also puts the ball in his court. She’s the most nervous she’s been so far as she waits for his reply, and the three dots pop up before disappearing again. They pop up again, before finally his message comes through.

Don’t. His text reads. I’ll pick up enough for two.

His response is pretty clear too, and she smiles as she sends three thumbs up emojis.

Her apartment isn’t dirty, or even messy, but once she’s locked her phone she’s up and full of nervous energy. It’s probably presumptuous to make sure her bed is made, but she does it anyway. She leaves the leggings and oversized sweater she wears on, it’s casual, she’s chilled out. Or she can at least pretend to be.

She’s doing her last round of the apartment, keeping her eyes peeled for any stray socks or underwear that she could have left anywhere. A blush threatens her cheeks at the thought of Rowan and her underwear, but she forces it down when there’s a sharp knock at the door.

She swings the door open and there he is.

He looks good, as always, but today it’s highlighted by the deep green military-style jacket he has thrown on over his plain white t-shirt. The tan of his skin always looks good against bright white, and the green of his jacket draws out the depths of his green eyes.

“Hey,” she breathes as their eyes meet.

He smiles, a slightly crooked thing, and he just looks even more attractive. “Hey.”

He’s carrying a brown paper bag pressed against his side in his left hand, and she reaches out to take it from him as she steps aside to let him in. He steps in, but resists her grab for the bag, instead wrapping his right arm around her waist to pull her into a brief hug. “Thanks for having me.”

His words take her back to the first time she visited his house. The time with Fenrys and Manon and the football game. The visit with her and Rowan in his kitchen.

She’s nowhere near as stiff with him as she was then and she lets herself relax into the hug.

“I only let you in on the promise of food,” she says into his chest and feels more than hears his reluctant snort of laughter.

Every time they touch she’s struck by how much she likes it. How much she wants more. But then he pulls back, twisting to push her door shut.

“I feel like I should let you know now before we go any further that I can’t cook.”

Rowan only raises a brow.

“Seriously, when I was in college I set off the fire alarm in my residence at least three times.”

“Three times?” His eyes widen in playful disbelief. “What were you making?”

“Well,” she laughs. “The first time I was trying to make Lysandra a birthday cake but then I got distracted and left it in the oven for three hours. The fire department got called but it was not that big of a deal, there wasn’t a fire.”

There’s laughter dancing in his clear green eyes as she regales her tale of youth. She practically beams at the knowledge that she has put it there.

“But our kitchen did smell like smoke for the rest of the year.”

“That doesn’t sound like you’re bad at cooking.” Rowan tilts his head down at her and she realises they’re still standing in her entryway. “That sounds like you don’t pay attention.”

Aelin shrugs at his teasing. “The third time was the worst. I was trying to do that thing where you put vodka in pasta sauce.”

“Gods,” Rowan’s laughing now and she loves the low rumble of the sounds. It pricks the hairs on her arm as the sound washes over her skin.

“There were some flames,” she confesses and he winces.

She didn’t have a completely normal college experience, she was acting part time in very minor roles during her time there but she managed to make some memories in her short time there. After Sam she dropped out and the memories always leave a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

Talking about this with Rowan and laughing at her silly little anecdotes is one of the first times it hasn’t hurt.

“Sucks to be an actor,” he says mockingly with a nod into her apartment as she finally leads him into the kitchen. The apartment she’s staying in is fine, more than fine, it’s actually a really great apartment and she tries to fake a frown through her smile.

Aelin shrugs. “We can’t all be big, household-name directors, living in glamorous mansions, too famous to go out to eat.”

She shoots him an amused look, and Rowan just smirks, tilting his head to the side in a way that exposes the length of his throat.

So maybe this was a fucking dangerous idea.

Inviting Rowan to her apartment had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he’s here, now he’s in her space, looking all… damn him, he looks so fucking good she feels flushed.

She used to think brunettes were her type, Chaol and Sam were both brunette, with tanned skin and brown eyes. Recently though, as much as she wants to resist it, her type has pretty much become Rowan.

Rowan with his silver hair, and green eyes. His low voice with it’s lilting accent from across the sea. His skin is tanned too, but she knows it comes from spending hours outside rather than genetics.

She hasn’t thought seriously about another man since they started filming, or more likely since the moment they met in the hallway.

And if she allows herself to admit it, probably a lot earlier than that.

She shakes herself as he watches her.

Rowan smirks at her as he places the bag on the counter. “We’ll have to try not to set this kitchen on fire.”

She’s perched atop her counter, with one knee crossed over the other, as she watches Rowan unpack the items from the bag. He’s shucked off the jacket by now, and the t-shirt he wears gives her uninterrupted access to the image of his toned arms and the tattoo that swirls down his left side.

She realises a moment too late that he’s asked her a question.

“What?”

She can tell Rowan knows why she didn’t respond, she just hopes it’s not too much for him. From the smirk he wears she thinks maybe not.

“I’m trying to teach you a valuable skill, it may help to pay attention.” She flips him off and revels in the dark flash of a smile he offers. “I asked if you have a frying pan.”

Aelin pulls a face, she hasn’t done a lot of cooking here past the basics like pasta and soup. Her microwave has been a trusty companion.

“I don’t know.” She waves a hand to the cupboards that line the side of the room. “Have a look in there.”

He gives her a look that tells her he’s deciding whether or not he likes her giving him orders, but then he turns to rummage through her cupboards before returning triumphant and waving the silver frying pan in her face.

“So, what are you making for me?” she asks as he finds a chopping board and unloads the hoard of vegetables he brought with himself.

“Veggie burgers,” he states simply, and she knows she pulls a face because he laughs. “Before you complain, they’re good for you. And they’re tasty.”

She still wrinkles her nose at him, unconvinced.

He cocks his head as he pauses his rhythmic chopping of the leafy green vegetable he has on the board. She’s trying desperately hard to make eye contact and not just stare at the motion of his hands, and his arms, and the ink swirling down his skin.

“Didn’t I promise not to poison you? Do you not trust me to take care of you?” Aelin doesn’t think she’s reading into things to hear the flirty tone to his voice.

“I’ll let you know after I’ve tried the burger.”

Rowan shakes his head at her, the ghost of a smile floating across his face as he resumes his chopping. “Ye of little faith.”

Aelin just shrugs, making a show of being sceptical by turning her nose.

“You could always help,” Rowan comments. “Or do you regularly invite guests around expecting them to make you a meal?”

“Tell me what to do, chef.” Aelin holds her hands out, ready for instruction. “I am yours to instruct.”

Rowan nods and reaches back into the bag and pulls out a can, he turns to find a bowl and a fork and places them in front of her. She’s impressed that in under half an hour he knows his way around her kitchen far better than she does.

“Mash these,” he says.

Her disgust isn’t pretend this time and her lip curls. “Mash these beans?”

Rowan nods.

“Mash them?”

“Yes, you do know what that means don’t you?”

Aelin hits him with the fork on the bicep and he laughs again, the sound smooth and rich in her stomach. “Shut up. You’re not convincing me this is going to taste good.”

Even so, she opens the can and is about to tip them into the bowl when Rowan grabs her hand. His fingers are warm and solid where they wrap around her own, and she snaps her eyes to his face at the contact.

“Rinse them first. You warned me and yet I still overestimated your ability in the kitchen.”

He’s smiling slightly, exposing the whites of his teeth, and he’s so close to her face. They’re almost level where she sits on the counter and Aelin swallows. His eyes are bright as he looks at her and she feels her smile grow involuntarily. Something flickers across his face before he clears his throat and steps back letting go of her hand. She misses his touch immediately after it’s gone.

Aelin slides off the bench and turns towards the sink to compose herself, she rinses the beans under the tap and Rowan stays silent while she does.

She turns back and tips them into the bowl and begins to mash as Rowan grates a carrot. Aelin really didn’t know her flat even came with these things.

“This is actually fucking disgusting.”

She’s managed to turn the bean mixture into a grey-ish mush. There’s no way this can taste good, she’s going to struggle even putting it in her mouth without retching.

Rowan snorts. “It’s good for you.”

Aelin wrinkles her nose again, but keeps going. It speaks volumes that she’s willing to trust Rowan on this.

It feels weirdly domestic to be here with him in her kitchen, and they move with an easy kind of synchrony. He adds his chopped vegetables to the bowl and she mixes them together as he readies the pan.

“Up for getting your hands dirty?” Rowan asks her once he’s done, and hell if Aelin doesn’t read far too much into that. The answer is yes.

“Always.” Sue her if she makes sure to look up at him through her lashes, and to bend forwards towards him as she rests her forearms on the kitchen counter.

“Grab a handful of the mixture,” He points to the contents of the bowl. “And shape it into a round patty.”

Aelin goes to put her hand tentatively into the bowl, it’s now a grey-ish mush with flecks of orange and green and she’s dreading it getting under her nails.

“Wait,” Rowan says, and he reaches out to roll the sleeves of her sweater up. It’s such a sweet gesture that it kind of takes her by surprise. The gentleness with which he holds her wrist as he rolls the fabric is nice, and she finds herself watching his face as he does it.

His brows pull together, in an expression she assumes is concentration, as he makes the careful motions. He looks good, she notes, not for the first time.

His thumbs and index fingers move down to squeeze the junction where her wrists meet her hands as he finishes and says, “there you go.”

“Thanks,” she breathes.

Aelin turns back to the bowl, attempting to somehow calm her heart. Rowan really needs to stop touching her if she wants to get over whatever this is. But now that he’s here, and he’s looking at her the way he is, and specifying that he wants to spend time with her, just the two of them…

It’s the first time she allows herself to consider that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t something that’s only dangerous. She finally allows herself to consider the idea that this could be fun, this could be something she could really enjoy. And here, in her apartment just the two of them, he doesn’t have to be her boss. He’s just Rowan and she’s just Aelin.

She really likes that thought.

Rowan clicks the pan on, and the sound startles her out of her head. Aelin hesitates before finally plunging her fingers into the mush and gods, she has some faith in Rowan if she’s going to even consider eating this.

It’s gross, but she manages to shape it into two round patties, and she places them into the pan when Rowan instructs.

Aelin washes her hands as Rowan pays attention to the burgers, and she retakes her seat on the counter after sorting out their plates and condiments. She might not be a great cook, but she can be a good host.

She watches him flip them a couple of times, taking the opportunity to ogle without risk of being caught staring. He has strong arms, and the tattoo snaking down his left makes her mouth water with every flex of his muscles. He has wide hands with long, almost elegant fingers that she wants to link through her own. Aelin is reminded, as he lifts the pan, of the thought she had the other day when he was directing Manon.

It wasn’t the first time she had considered Rowan in a sexual way, but it was the most direct, and she’s not complaining, but sometimes it makes it a little difficult to concentrate in his presence.

Finally, he switches the heat off and turns to place the patties in their buns. Aelin has to admit they look a little better now that they’re cooked, but she’s still not convinced.

He presents her with the plate, wearing a bashful little smile, and she’s taken by how adorable she finds it. He’s actually nervous to hear what she thinks.

She slathers it in ketchup, hoping to make it somewhat palatable and lifts it to her lips, about to take a bite when he speaks.

“We’re eating here?”

Aelin pauses, putting the burger back on her plate. “Where else would we eat?”

Rowan shrugs, still holding his own plate. He doesn’t put any ketchup on his and she’s trying not to be disgusted. She taps the bench next to herself, and Rowan seems to deliberate for a moment before finally hopping up at her side. He towers over her again now that they’re on an even playing field and she likes it. She likes how much bigger he is than her, and likes it even more how she still feels safe with him.

“Okay, now go,” he says, still apprehensive of her reaction, and Aelin makes a big deal of taking a deep breath before her first bite.

She chews it all silently before swallowing, working to keep her expression neutral, and Rowan doesn’t look away from her face the whole time. She purses her lips afterwards, and waits for him to speak.

“So?”

“It’s not terrible,” she admits with a small smile creeping up the sides of her mouth.

Rowan quickly takes his own bite, and she watches the way his fingers dwarf the same bun that fills her hands. He hums his own pleasure.

“Not terrible,” he repeats. “Admit it, it’s good.”

She flips a strand of hair over her shoulder before she takes another bite. She was sceptical -- more than -- when it was still a mush, but she has to admit it’s tasty, and very Rowan. She doesn’t know for sure he’s a health nut, but based on the parts of his body that she’s seen and his distaste for all things sweet, she can guess.

“Maybe,” is all she says before taking another bite. He watches her with a smug smile, one she desperately wants to get rid of. It isn’t helpful that the way she wants to do so is by kissing him.

“Oh!” She jumps down from the counter, throwing her plate to the side, suddenly reminded. “You know what I have that would go perfectly with this?”

She grabs two glasses out of the cupboard and sets them down on the bench in between where she’s been sitting and Rowan. Aelin turns to the fridge before pulling out the small bottle.

Rowan groans, and she tucks the sound to the back of her mind. “Aelin,” he starts. “I don’t want any of that.”

“Come on,” she cries. “A milkshake is an essential with a burger and this is the best I have to offer. If I’d thought ahead I could have at least found a bottle of wine to go with the dinner you cooked for me.”

She’s not entirely sure why she said it, especially when she’s pretty sure she’s deduced that he doesn’t drink, and the reason for it, but it feels like an automatic apology that just slips off her tongue whenever she’s in a setting where alcohol could be a presumption.

Rowan’s expression locks down at her comment and she immediately regrets it.

“Um-” she starts but Rowan clears his throat.

“It’s okay,” he says slowly, avoiding her gaze, “I don’t drink.”

“Oh,” Aelin all but whispers, and it surprises her when Rowan lets out a dark huff of laughter. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m guessing you know why.”

His voice has a somewhat bitter edge to it that she hates.

“I wasn’t-”

She stops when he finally looks up at her and she sees his expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says again quickly and he only shakes his head and pats the counter at his side.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

There’s something in his eyes that makes her retake her seat at his side and pick her burger back up, taking a bite as he takes a breath.

“It’s not something that usually falls into casual dinner conversation.”

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

It’s something she isn’t sure she realised the importance of at first. The offer of whether to share or not. She fights a desperate war inside of herself every time conversations head down a lane like this. The desire to scream her story from the rooftops squaring off against the desperation to remain closed up where no one will ever know what bubbles just below the surface.

Usually privacy wins. Usually she swallows those words down and stays quiet, keeping this reel of pain and loss and tragedy buried deep within, but here with Rowan, tucked away in the kitchen of her temporary home, the words don’t feel so daunting.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s often something that makes other people feel uncomfortable. They pity the guy with the dead fiancée”—Aelin blinks past the way his voice wavers—“but they don’t want to actually hear about it. I’ll spare you the gorey details but after that I couldn’t bring a drink to my lips again. I’ve never so much as considered it — never wanted to.”

There’s an ache beginning in her chest, and she puts her burger back down on her plate. Rowan hasn’t touched his since his first few bites. She desperately wants to comfort him, wants to place a hand on his shoulder and take the pain away any way she can, but she knows from experience that it can’t be done.

This kind of pain, this grief, is something that can’t be taken away. She lives with her grief and her guilt after Sam every day of her life, and she thinks she will forever. No matter how many therapy sessions she goes to, no matter how many days and weeks and months pass, Sam will always be a part of her. Scrawled across her heart in his messy penmanship.

“I understand,” she says quietly. “More than you’d think.”

This is the moment where she could probably finish, where she could twist the conversation back to Rowan and pat his shoulder sympathetically, or where she could tug it to somewhere new and safe.

But she doesn’t often get opportunities like this, in the dim light and the quiet of her flat where the only other sound is the noise coming from the hood above her cooker. She doesn’t often get to talk about this with someone who truly understands.

All of her friends tried in the months after Sam, and gods bless them they still do, but none of them were as close to Sam as she was. They were upset for Aelin and her loss, not at the loss of Sam. And Rowan, who sits next to her staring at the floor, she thinks he could understand.

His gaze lifts from the floor to meet hers as she begins to speak.

“His name was Sam,” she says and Rowan nods.

“I know.”

Aelin feels her breath leave her chest in a whoosh.

“I saw some of the headlines at the time, Aelin I’m so sorry.”

Her jaw works as she tries to find the words, any words, to respond to that. But she’s shaken. She didn’t think anyone knew, or even noticed, outside of her immediate circle. But then she thinks back to the dinner they shared, the way his gaze had burned into her when the conversation had turned to her break. He knows — he has known — and he gets it.

She shakes her head, composing herself enough to speak. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

His lips twist as she repeats his words back to him.

She doesn’t mean to say, “I knew about Lyria too,” but Rowan just nods, breaking their gaze to stare down at where their hands lie beside each other with an expression she can’t read.

Aelin knows she shouldn’t, for any number of reasons, but she reaches out to twine their fingers together atop the marble of her countertop. His fingers are rough and calloused between her own but the thumb he rubs against the back of her hand is gentle and reassuring.

He doesn’t speak, but there isn’t anything Aelin feels the need to say. It’s a kindred kind of silence, one borne of more pain than either of them could bear to speak aloud, and there’s an awful feeling of comfort in it. She knows he’s thinking of Lyria the way she’s thinking of Sam. But there is a part of her mind, a part that’s like a rising sun creeping above the horizon to break the shadow of night, that’s thinking of Rowan too.

Eventually she picks her burger back up again, it’s cold now but she can reluctantly admit it doesn’t taste horrendous. Their fingers stay linked as they each eat single-handedly, building themselves back up to sharing short stories and playful quips.

She’s glad she invited him, her boss or not.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Faking Yulemas — Part 4: Dear Santa… I Can Explain

For 12 Days of Rowaelin

Prompt: Yulemas Lights

Fic masterlist

I know it’s very rude of me to only post this now, I promise I was not planning to wait that long. I hope you have fun with this fic’s closure!

Warnings: NSFW, language, drinking, mentions of inappropriate intimate tattoos

Word count: 5,5k (oops?)

“Tell me about your parents.”

Rowan hummed, thoughtful. “Dad’s a pretty laid-back guy, but mom keeps him in line. She’s the strict one, I take after her.” A tilt of his head. “I once read online that’s reason why I overthink, but I don’t think they traumatized me that much. Just the normal amount.” He looked at her dead in the eye. “I definitely don’t have daddy issues.”

Chuckling, Aelin elbowed his side. “You’re not helping.”

He deftly gripped her attacking elbow and stroked it with his thumb, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite decipher. “You don’t need to think too hard on it, they’ll be mushy just by knowing you drove all the way here to buy them something.”

Aelin sighed and nodded. She didn’t prepare that much back in Doranelle to this, but now that she’d met the Whitethorns, she wanted to get them a Yulemas present. The hardest part was buying something nice on Yulemas Eve Eve that would fit her student budget, but she’d manage.

Their excuse to come downtown Mistward was so Aelin could get to know the city, and it wasn’t that much of a lie. With streets filled with stores decorated for the holidays, it was a sight. There were people going in all directions, probably late with the gift shopping too. There was also a Santa on a white, wheeled vehicle pulled by a horse that was going around the shopping area. She assumed it was supposed to be Santa Claus in a one horse open sleigh, but she decided to not pick on this poor attempt at Santa. Let them live their inaccurate holiday joy.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” Rowan gave her a pointed look. “I can get that extra jacket on the car.”

Aelin looked down at her red sundress that had an open back and spaghetti straps, frowning. She was fine. Not one arm hair out of place. In the meanwhile, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pants, and she also didn’t miss how his Adam’s apple bobbed before his eyes snapped back to hers.

Interesting.

“Remind me to never take you to Terrasen in the winter,” she snickered. God, Rowan wouldn’t survive a day in knee-deep snow.

His eyes lit up. “That means you’ll take me there in the summer, then?”

“I need enough money to get back there myself first.” Aelin walked ahead of him a little, towards a storefront, so he wouldn’t see her flush. That really sounded like an invitation, didn’t it? And she hoped what she’d just said didn’t sound too much like a dismissal. Truth was, she was confused.

They were fake dating, that was a fact. However, her feelings about Rowan changed a lot since her first day in Mistward. They settled the deal before those piano lessons together. And getting acquainted with his family. Watching him drag Enda’s kids on a sled with the mower did its trick too. And honestly? Aelin wasn’t above the emotional consequences of cuddling at night.

She took a deep breath and stopped pretending that storefroent was interesting, focusing back on Rowan.

He was gazing at her already, a soft look on his eyes.

She was so screwed.

˜˜

After finding a nice gift for his parents, Rowan insisted on having dinner at this fancy pasta place.

The best part of it? The wine.

Aelin was currently explaining to Rowan what only three people in the world knew: the complete chain of events that led her to start a dating hiatus.

“It’s hard to find so many suitable one-night stands, but I had just broken up with Chaol, so I wanted something casually serious. So this guy, Sam… well, he made a family on The Sims with me.”

Rowan frowned. “That’s creepy.”

She sighed. “I know, but I thought it was cute at the time. Anyway. Since we were already married on his game, you’d think he wanted something serious, right?”

He tilted his head. “Right…”

“Wrong!” Aelin yelled, and then looked around, giggling and a bit embarrassed. This wasn’t the kind of restaurant it was okay to be screaming at, but she was blaming the wine. “When I mentioned that we were in a situationship, he said the label was too much.” Sweeping her arms, she forgot once more about keeping a low profile.

Rowan was quietly chuckling at her antics when the food came.

Could it even be called food?

The plate itself reminded her of a Victorian hat with a particularly wide brim. Only for the ladies who liked to be a little extra. She could even imagine some lady called Edith or Cecily pulling this off effortlessly. The border of the plate went for what felt like miles, and after a lot of what seemed like a waste of space in a dishwasher, there was a small depression. The bottom and center of the plate had a small portion of spaghetti cocooned, as wide as her palm if she was lucky.

Looking at Rowan, he seemed to be at loss too. Aelin didn’t know much about his dining habits, but she knew damn well that a portion that size wasn’t enough to grow the kind of muscles he had. Finally looking at her in the eye, he seemed to apologize with his own when she shook her head and smiled. She wasn’t going to complain about being brought to a nice date in a fancy restaurant downtown.

Wait.

Was this a date?

“So Sam was the final nail in the coffin?” Rowan prompted, wanting to know which date was bad enough to make her want to go celibate for a year.

“No, that would be Archer.” He sat back and sipped his wine, waiting. Aelin took a deep breath, steeling herself. “He would always ask me when I’d give him a chance, but I never took him seriously. He was just that kind of guy no one takes seriously, but the bar was so low that I did.”

“It’s really hard to believe that you, of all people, were struggling so much to date.”

Aelin just groaned in response.

“Anyway,” she continued, “The date was fun, and I think he even put in some effort… for his standards. The problem was his tattoo.”

Aelin didn’t miss the way Rowan quickly glanced at his tattooed arm while she said it.

“He had an intimate tattoo,” she explained, followed by a dramatic pause. “Of Pinocchio.”

Rowan blinked, then his eyes slowly widened with the realization of what she was implying, and he seemed to be so surprised they spoke at the same time:

“Please don’t tell me the nose was—”

“And Pinocchio’s nose was—”

Aelin somberly nodded.

Rowan took a sip of his wine. “But did you…” He cleared his throat. “Did you?”

She gaped. “I would never sit on Pinocchio’s nose.”

He nodded, looked at his food and took a swig of his wine before resuming his dinner. Aelin wondered if she ruined it by mentioning another man’s dick tat, but he looked up at her with a resolved look on his face.

“You do realize that the amount of guys with inappropriate tattoos or virtual families with you isn’t that big, right?”

Aelin didn’t like his tone. She leaned away from Rowan on her chair and asked a little too defensive, “Your point is?”

Truth was, Aelin didn’t get that much annoyed when people would question her dating hiatus. She’d usually just wait until their speech was over and let it go. But for some reason, all those speeches she shrugged off for months were coming back to haunt her during this vacation. Did she give up too soon? Was she wasting her youth on this? Having her celibacy questioned by Rowan struck a nerve, Aelin just had to find out why.

“Sometimes people are so focused on what’s happening directly to them, they forget to look around for better options.”

Her mouth opened and closed before she found the words “I did look around! The view was terrible.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Rowan tried to rephrase it. “I was actually telling you to consider possibilities you haven’t thought of before.”

“You’re telling me to try girls?” Her mouth fell open. It wasn’t a bad idea, she just wasn’t expecting that suggestion.

Looking tired from trying to explain himself, Rowan sighed. “When’s your hiatus ending?”

“On March 3rd.”

He sipped his wine. “Noted.”

Aelin blinked. “What?”

She would not think too much on this. She would not think about this while holding him tonight.

He leaned back on his seat and shrugged. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

˜˜

Rowan was motionless, staring at the car like he was reading its soul. Or like someone had just dropped the keys in the river and he stood there, watching it fall into the bottom. Considering it was Rowan, any other thing would make it easier to drive than the situation they were currently in.

Drunk.

Actually, they weren’t drunk. Tipsy sounds more fitting. Maybe somewhere between these two?

Aelin checked her watch. There was still time to catch a train. Maeve’s house had a really difficult access, though, so she’d need someone to pick them up at the station.

“I’m calling Sellene,” Aelin broke the silence.

That was enough to make Rowan fall out of his trance. “Absolutely not!” He ran a hand through his head. “She’ll mock us to death.”

Aelin’s smile was so big she could swear the corners of Rowan’s mouth tilted up. “She’ll mock you to death! Sel loves me.”

Sellene answered the phone before Rowan could make an argument out of this.

“What the fuck are you two still doing downtown?” Her friend’s voice boomed before anyone could even say hello.

“Honey, langua— oh, hi, Aelin!” Uncle Ellys showed up smiling behind Sellene.

Aelin quickly explained their drunken situation and asked her to pick them up at the train station closest to the family’s house, and Rowan stayed curiously silent the whole time. It probably had something to do with the mischievous glint that grew in Sellene’s eyes every sentence, which reached its peak when Uncle Ellys furrowed his eyebrows and suggested, “Why don’t you two stay at a hotel and drive back in the morning? That way no one needs to get the car back on Yulemas Eve.”

Sel’s smile was so big she looked like a maniac. “That’s a great idea, dad!”

The little bitch.

She knew damn well Aelin wasn’t actually dating Rowan.

This was going to be so awkward.

Rowan cleared his throat. “I’m not sure this is a good—“

“I think it’s perfect, Ro.”

He continued, glaring this time. “I didn’t bring anything to spend the night. I have no clothes, no toiletries—“

“Good to know we’ve got it settled then!” Unaffected, Sellene’s grin was so smug it was annoying. “If it isn’t my favorite couple.”

Ellys frowned. “I thought it was Marceline and Princess Bubblegum, Dear.”

“I guess you’re right.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, bye!” Sellene sing-sang.

”Sellene, don’t—“ Rowan shouted, but it was too late.

She had already hung up on them.

Rowan sighed, and Aelin pocketed her phone, leaning her back in the car to think. They were already sharing a bed anyway, staying at a hotel for the night wouldn’t be that bad. It’d be almost the same, right?

Rowan didn’t think so, apparently.

“I’m gonna try my parents,” he finally said.

“Okay.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“But don’t you think it’s weird?” Aelin said before he hit the call button.

His thumb hovered above the screen for a moment, then he carefully asked, “What would be weird?”

“Refusing to spend the night away. We’re supposed to be dating, remember?”

He locked his phone and leaned on the car as well, arms crossed. “I’d never spend the night with my girlfriend without clean clothes and a toothbrush.”

“The only one you’d need out of those two is very easy to buy,” she snickered. “Besides, you can’t ask your mom to rescue you. You should be flattered for the opportunity to spend the night with me.”

“I am.”

The yellow streetlights didn’t help, but Aelin could see Rowan’s cheeks turning a shade pinker. Cute, she marveled.

“Besides,” he continued, “We usually need all hands on deck during Yulemas Eve. I’ll waste too much time coming back here tomorrow to get the car.”

She tilted her head. “It’ll be a nuisance.”

“A big one.”

Aelin grinned. “And we can’t let that happen.”

He shook his head, lips tugging up. “Absolutely not.”

“So which hotel are we picking?”

“The closest one.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Oh. Sure.”

Rowan was a practical person. Of course he’d pick the closest one. And there was no reason for her to hope for another hotel, since this decision had been purely practical.

Something about her expression gave her away. He bumped her shoulder. “I’m open to suggestions, though.”

“I don’t have suggestions, I’ve never been here.” She bumped his shoulder back. “I just thought we were choosing together, that’s all.”

He raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to continue.

“For example, I like it when they have those huge breakfast buffets. With…” she shrugged, a playful grin forming on her lips. “Bread, fruit, yoghurt…”

Rowan crossed his arms, smiling. “Only bread, fruit and yoghurt?”

His teasing hadn’t been that funny, but Aelin cackled anyway. “Well, I’m not gonna complain if they also happen to have cake and chocolate croissant.”

“Okay…” he focused on his phone for a moment, the corners of his lips still crinkling with amusement, then guided them forward by placing a hand on her back. “Google Maps tells me there’s a store close by, and you can tell me what kind of hotels you like while I buy some toiletries to survive the night.”

The small shopping became a little more, and that’s how they ended up in a hotel room’s balcony, a plastic bag with the essentials waiting inside while they ate hot dogs and shared a bottle of wine, no glasses. They blamed this second dinner on the fancy restaurant with miniature portions, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“This hot dog is so much better than the ones I make.”

Rowan held a finger up, asking for a moment while he finished this bite, and asked, “You cook?”

A smirk just for him. “I don’t. That’s why this is better.”

They both chuckled, Rowan’s eyes glinting while he looked at her in such a way that made her question if tonight’s food was upsetting her stomach. She looked away. “I had to learn for Sellene’s birthday, though.”

“That’s right.” He straightened his posture, recognition in his eyes. “You were so busy, I forgot you were in charge of the food too.”

“I was in charge of everything after Sel’s third beer.” She rolled her eyes playfully. Sellene was such a traitorous bitch. Aelin loved her to death. “That’s why I didn’t pay much attention to the guests, I think.”

Also because she was dating Chaol at the time. But dear Mala, it felt like a waste not properly meeting Rowan that day. The longer she got to know him, the strongest she felt about that party and the 11 months that followed suit.

He chugged wine for the longest time that night before he said, “I had intentions of making myself known once you were free.”

Aelin was too distracted by his mouth on that bottle, but her heart stopped when it finally clicked.

“Really?” She looked deep into his eyes, looking for an answer that went beyond his words.

He nodded. “Really.”

She took the bottle from his hand. It was her time to have some wine.

“It would’ve been nice.”

He didn’t need to answer that. And they both also knew what stopped him that day: Aelin’s boyfriend arriving mid-party.

Still, there was no controlling that bubbly, sparkly feeling inside her that only grew the more she thought about that.

Rowan was ready to hit on her when they first met. Isn’t that the most romantic thing?

For some reason, this time Aelin didn’t feel like shying away from whatever was happening. Just let herself feel, even though she was trying really hard to understand those feelings. She didn’t know how to continue this conversation, though.

“I thought I’d never face a hot dog after Sellene’s birthday party,” she added between bites. The amount of research and preparation Aelin did for that night was crazy. She never knew there’s so much to the art of hot dogs.

“They were a little traumatizing, yes.”

“That’s not what I meant!” She chided in mock offense while handing the bottle to that rude fake boyfriend of hers.

“I’m letting you blame the sausage’s bad quality if you want.”

“I don’t know…” Aelin leaned back on her chair. Her research included which ingredients to buy, it’d end up being her fault too. “I kinda became a sausage specialist for that party—“

She was interrupted by the blaring sound of Rowan gagging and heaving. He had a shocked look on his face, widened eyes aimed at her while he clutched the base of his neck. There was a little wine running down his nose and mouth, and that was probably from the choking.

Aelin dropped her things and started gently stroking his shoulders, even though she knew this wouldn’t actually help. She was somewhere between wanting to soothe him and feeling a little embarrassed after accidentaly making a sexual innuendo so bad Rowan almost choked to death. Literally. Would it be selfish to hope his choking didn’t let him notice the flush on her cheeks?

“That’s embarrassing,” he said a few moments later.

Aelin had already a tissue on her hand when she replied, “You know, you look kinda cute with a wine mustache.”

He snorted, and that little gush of air directly on her fingers weirdly sent goosebumps—

No.

This was supposed to be just about Aelin’s imagination running wild because of Rowan’s irresistibleness. There was no way she…

Aelin removed her hand and gazed at at Rowan. His straight nose and cheekbones had a natural glow from the moonlight. His eyes were gleaming while he looked back at her, and something told her it couldn’t be due to any Yulemas lights that twinkled around them. Mistward was beautiful today, but not nearly as much as that reserved man who had fire in his eyes when he looked at her.

There were so many things she felt like doing while looking at him, but at the same time she didn’t want to change anything at all. Aelin wanted to be in this exact moment forever. With him.

Wine out his nose and all.

Something dawned on her, and Aelin’s eyes widened with the realization.

“Oh my God,” she blurted, her eyes slowly searching his.

“What?” Rowan was still a little hazy.

When their gaze finally settled on each other’s, she quietly confided, “I think I like you.”

Aelin would do everything in her possession to never forget how his face slowly lit up as he processed what she’d said, his confused expression giving away space for him to show her a blinding smile.

He didn’t say anything, though.

At first he just cradled her face, tender strokes on her jaw making her head tilt up while he seemed lost somewhere between her eyes and her lips.

Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

She could see his tongue‘s quickly appear between his lips, wetting them as their faces slowly came together.

Way too slowly.

Impatient, Aelin cradled his face with both hands and closed the distance at once, pressing their lips together. And as soon as she initiated it, his touch seemed as urgent as hers.

Rowan’s hands roamed through her face, neck, shoulders, until they found her waist and pulled her as close as one physically could, making her fall on his lap. With her neck in his mouth’s direction, Rowan decided to take advantage of that. He pecked, licked and sucked that patch of skin until Aelin was writhing on his thigh, silently begging him for something. Even she didn’t know exactly what.

When Rowan started dragging his teeth along her pulse point with a heavenly amount of pressure, Aelin held his shoulders with both hands, adjusting herself just enough to feel his shaft below her thigh.

He groaned. “We don’t have to.”

His voice was so pained it almost sounded comical. It would be, if Aelin wasn’t as excited as he was.

She pulled his hair, making Rowan’s neck arch towards her. He stared at her with parted lips, a mist of hunger and surrender in his eyes.

“I need to.” Aelin wriggled her hips, pressing against him and making him swallow hard.

He started playing with the hem of her dress, and it took a pointed look for her to process that he was still asking for permission.

“Please.”

Rowan sneaked his hands below her dress until both of his hands were full with her ass, and tugged her towards him hard enough to leave a mark.

And that was when their control snapped.

It became a blur of sinful caresses and bruising, urgent kisses until Rowan picked her up. The six steps from the balcony to the bed were the longest of her life.

Between kisses, he began to fumble with her dress. “What’s up with girls and their difficult clothes?”

“Three ties isn’t too much.” She wasn’t even wearing a bra. Aelin laughed, but it was a bit strained.

“They’re obstacles. It’s annoying,” he said while undoing the straps on her shoulders. And frowned. Aelin bit back her laughter while she turned around, showing the last string on her back. “Too much,” he grunted while untying it.

The feel of those thin strands falling on her back left a trail of goosebumps, or maybe it was just the effect of Rowan’s hands on her, along with the anticipation of what was to come.

She mentioned to turn around, but Rowan’s hands had her pinned, laying on her stomach. He gently brushed her long hair aside and kissed her shoulders and back downwards. He brushed his teeth through Aelin’s ass, biting it softly. Her breath hitched, her hips arching his way.

However, Rowan took her panties off, turned her around and started kissing her inner thigh. When Aelin realized where he was headed, she was already whimpering. He was all teasing kisses and warming her up at first, so she wasn’t expecting it when Rowan pressed his tongue against her clit with the perfect amount of pressure, making her cry out and arch her hips. He didn’t mind her pressing herself against his face, though. Not by the way he grabbed her hips hard enough to bruise and kept her there.

The mix of Rowan’s tongue on her clit, his stubble rubbing against her slit and his hands practically squeezing her hips was going to be the death of her. Aelin was panting with shaky legs, moaning his name. Bursting from the inside out, she was seeing stars every time he applied a bit more pressure.

“Ro, I’m so close.”

He just hummed, not ready to get his mouth off her, and plunged two fingers inside her without further notice.

Aelin screamed.

She shattered completely, becoming nothing more than a mess of limbs, holding every piece of the bed sheet she could and squeezing Rowan’s head between her thighs while waves of pleasure ripped through her.

Rowan was above her in a second, kissing her gently. “You okay?”

“That’s really hard to answer right now,” she answered, panting.

He chuckled, seeming a little wrecked as well. “Wanna stop?”

“Fuck, no.”

She pulled him by the hair for another kiss and began to fumble with his pants. Impatient, Rowan rose to pull out his clothes for once and-

Fuck.

Aelin had always thought Rowan looked as gorgeous as one of those ripped guys from ancient statues, but it wasn’t true. His penis was too big for him to be one of them. What a shame. Actually, not a shame at all for Aelin.

Rowan was staring at her, naked with a condom on his hand, his mouth hanging open somewhere between amused and incredulous.

Wait, did she say that out loud?

To avoid further comment, she kneeled on the bed and wrapped her arms around Rowan, kissing him slowly until he melted into her touch. Without breaking the kiss, Aelin started working on his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

When they laid back on the bed, she had never seen a guy put a condom on so fast. To be fair, Aelin was pretty much the same, guiding him towards her entrance as soon as possible.

They started slow, holding on to each other while Rowan pushed into her.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped against her ear as he bottomed her out.

Aelin moaned, wiggling her hips in a silent plea for him to move inside her, which he quickly obliged.

She moaned and marked his back with her nails as he thrusted in with an intense pace. They were completely lost in each other. Moaning, whispering sweet nothings, kissing wherever their mouths could reach. Aelin wrapped her legs around him and her muscles tightened, making him suck in a sharp breath and lose composure.

“Are you close?”

Her affirmative answer sounded a lot like a whimper, but he got the message.

Letting out a shaky breath, that chase made him lose the rhythm they previously found, but Rowan sneaked a hand between their bodies and pressed this thumb to Aelin’s clit.

The grip she had on his shoulders tightened. “Fuck, Ro.”

Her breath shattered when she came to the peak of that crescendo, and he seemed just as intoxicated. It was like Rowan was lighting her on fire, and every explosion was a reason for her to call his name. When the feeling of his thumb on her swollen clit and his cock hitting that spot was too much, Aelin’s hips started to tremble and she came undone in his arms, Rowan’s name on her lips the whole time.

Being pushed over the edge as well, Rowan’s hips stuttered and his whole body tensed, right before he seemed to dissolve above her.

He crashed on her side and gave gentle pecks on her face after disposing the condom, both of them still recomposing themselves.

Staring at the ceiling, Aelin was trying to figure if this was because she hadn’t had sex for almost a year, or if Rowan was just that good. She needed to try again to be certain.

He turned to her and cradled Aelin in his arms, giving her a peck in the forehead. Rowan studied her face, looking for something until she looked up at him, her uncertain face slowly giving space to a shy grin.

Aelin adjusted herself on his arms and let him lazily caress her body.

She always suspected sex with Rowan would be good, but dear Mala. It was almost too much, his cock and tongue and fingers wearing her out until she combusted so much she felt she could die in that bed. Well, if Aelin really thought of it, those orgasms were well deserved. She needed them, since she didn’t have her sleeping pills right now. Should she thank Santa? It was probably Yulemas Eve by now.

Aelin let out a happy sigh and Rowan affectionately squeezed her, resting his face on the crown of her head.

She mentally sent Santa a thumbs up, not caring that he doesn’t actually exist or that Rowan didn’t like him as a kid.

~~

There were hands brushing her hair back and stroking her arms.

What a nuisance.

Aelin rolled over to the other side of the bed, trying to fall back into that deep slumber she was in.

The mattress dipped beside her, and the covers Aelin had just placed covering her face were gently pushed aside.

It was going to be one of those days, then.

“I sneaked out some mini chocolate croissant for you.”

Interesting.

“I’m awake,” she mumbled.

Chuckling, Rowan continued to run his fingers through her hair when she sat on the bed, eyes still closed. Aelin leaned into his touch. For Mala’s sake, did that man know how to touch her everywhere?

His fingers brushed against her lower lip. “Want some?”

When Aelin closed her mouth with the mini croissant Rowan put there, it was a delicious explosion of butter, chocolate and that delicious crackling crust flooding her senses. Her shoulders dropped and she moaned, overwhelmed by pastry heaven.

Rowan’s hand on her hair stilled, so Aelin finally had reason enough to open her eyes. How dare he stop? Aelin rubbed her eyes and cracked them open to complain, only to see Rowan staring at her with darkened eyes and parted lips.

Well, that was one look to wake her up with. Smirking, she let her covers drop just a little. Just to tease him, since he knew damn well she had nothing underneath.

Before she could think, Rowan was face to face with her on the bed. “You know, we have a few hours between breakfast and check-out time.” He dropped kisses on her jaw and neck, a sweet invite to continue last night’s activity.

Aelin started looking for her clothes on the floor, but she found them folded on the chair. So organized. Her boyfri-

Oh, fuck.

They needed to talk, didn’t they?

Aelin grabbed her things and locked herself in the bathroom. Her mind was going a mile a minute.

During her shower, she wondered about the broken promise of her year-long celibacy. Well, being tore apart by Rowan was much cooler than that. But what was supposed to happen now?

Aelin stared at herself in the mirror while she brushed her teeth. Was it a one-time thing? She’d stay with his family for at least one more week, would she manage to stay away from him? Would she want to stay away from him? No probably not.

God, her hair was a mess. And she didn’t have enough supplies to make her effortful effortless makeup look. Aelin sighed. Maybe she’d just start the conversation and see what Rowan’s expectations were. He didn’t seem like the guy who would run away from something remotely serious and dread becoming more, but still. Also, he knew damn well she’d had enough of this type of guy for a lifetime already. It’s not like Aelin was looking for a husband, for Mala’s sake, some reliable company or even something casually serious would be just fine.

Out of the bathroom, Rowan was on the bed with his phone, while her own was on a charger he borrowed from reception. He looked up at her, and Aelin’s heart melted with the fond look in his eyes.

“I want to talk about last night.”

Rowan put his phone down. “What about it?”

“Well…” she began tracing circles on the mattress with her finger, trying to think of a good way to start. “It changes things, don’t you think?”

“I don’t see why we should change anything.”

Aelin held on a sigh. Of course. Flashbacks from every reason why she started a dating hiatus popped in her mind, except this one was worse because she already has feelings—

“I mean,” he continued, “We already agreed on dating, right?”

Her heart stopped. What?

“No, we agreed on fake dating,” she carefully explained. “Now we’re redefining things, but it seems like we’re fake dating with benefits.”

“What’s the difference between dating and fake dating with benefits?”

God, she wished she had the simple mind of a man. After explaining everything in detail, Rowan seemed just as lost.

“Sounds the same to me. I’ll just keep calling you my girlfriend.” He scratched the back of his neck. “If that’s okay with you?”

It was perfect, actually. Aelin’s smile was so wide it was an answer on itself. “We’re dating, then?”

“We were always dating.”

“Absolutely not!”

“I introduced you to my parents and told them you’re my girlfriend. That’s dating to me.”

Aelin shook her head. Because they were fake dating, but Rowan didn’t have basic trope knowledge. “But we weren’t getting physical!”

Rowan crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. “Yet.”

She mirrored his posture, eyebrows raised. “Is that so?”

“I had big plans of seducing you after your dating hiatus.”

Aelin’s jaw dropped, but it quickly became a huge grin. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. “And what did these plans entail?”

He turned her around and guided her towards the door with both hands gripping her waist. “I’ll show you after breakfast,” he whispered on her ear by the time her hand reached the doorknob.

Well, that was some surprising plot twist in her celibate year.

Aelin was still quite sure love is an unreliable bitch.

However, things were looking really good for her this time.

A/N: If you got to this point, thank you for reading and not giving up on my writing after I kinda disappeared for a while! Specially for reading a holiday fic mid-March lol. So uncool of me. I’m a little embarrassed about that, if you can’t tell. Ha. Let’s hope next time I finish at least before I take the decorations down, huh?

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[manonblaqkbeak]

Complicated

Fking finally lol. I’ve had absolutely no motivation to read or write these last few days, but I finally started this last night and finished it now. Here’s Day 15--a bad day, and part 3 of the mini-series i have going for this month.

Part 1  Part 2

cw: none that i can think of, but if theres anything, pls dont hesitate to let me know!

1.5k words

enjoy!! :)

Aelin had been sitting in her car for the last twenty minutes, staring at the motel door. She had no idea what she was going to say to Sam, but she knew she had to say something.

Something like, “I'm sorry that your biological daughter calls another man daddy and papa.” Maybe Aelin should have put a stop to it once Olive had started calling Rowan that, but hearing Olive say daddy in her tiny voice with a wide smile on her face made Aelin's heart flutter, and the sweet look of joy when Rowan heard her say it made Aelin think that it wouldn't be too bad.

She had got caught up in the fantasy of it all, but it was hard not to be sucked down into. She still loved Rowan and they had been dating seriously for the last six months. They had been friends for five months after she saw him at the nursery, and things had been going so damned well. Rowan and Egan had moved into Aelin's place two months ago—the four bedroom house previously owned by Aelin's parents before they moved into a small home—and she got along fantastically with Egan; he had a bit more of an understanding that Aelin wasn't his biological mother, since Rowan still had the photos of Lyria during the pregnancy, and she was determined to never replace Lyria, but when he called her 'ma' or 'Lin', her face would break into a smile so big she thought that it would be a permanent fixture on her face.

Aelin wasn't stupid, however, she knew that people thought that she and Rowan were moving too fast—namely her parents and Aedion, but when she and Rowan talked about the future, it felt solid, like it wasn't just a fanciful notion, but something real that was only a few steps away from being able to hold in her hands.

She had never been with someone that was so loyal to her, someone that cared for her in the way that Rowan did. That looked past her outer beauty and saw Aelin for who she was, and encouraged her to go for what made her happy.

It wasn't always perfect, they had arguments for time to time, but they worked it out, and that had shocked Aelin at first, that Rowan actually wanted to work together to fix the issue, that he actually communicated instead of just letting the arguments fade away. It wasn't like that at all with Chaol, part of the reason why their relationship crashed and burned.

So she hardly thought twice about what it meant to have Olive call Rowan 'daddy', that to Aelin, she was just building a family and a future, but she was starkly reminded that her boyfriend indeed was not her daughters father when Olive called Rowan 'papa' in the middle of the lunch that Sam was invited to at their place and the silence that had descended between the three adults.

Aelin almost choked on the pizza that she was in the middle of inhaling when Olive said that, her daughter sitting on Rowan's lap because she had been fussy and didn't want to sit in her booster seat. Olive and Egan were blissfully unaware of the awkwardness that was emanating from Aelin, the brown haired boy paying attention only to the TV that was playing his favourite cartoon, and Olive had simply wanted more of Rowan's attention.

Aelin glanced at Sam and found that the look in his eyes was utterly unreadable, which was unusual since Sam was easy to read, but for the first time in the years that Aelin knew him, she had no idea how to decipher his expression.

Rowan had opened his mouth, to say what Aelin wasn't sure, when Sam waved him off, and resumed the conversation revolving around the classic car that Rowan was fixing in his rare free time. So Rowan, knowing that it wasn't the right place to have that conversation, continued where he left off before Olive uttered that word that had never felt wrong before but suddenly left Aelin wanting to sink into the floor.

And when Sam had left after lunch, Aelin had decided that temporarily avoiding the topic was the best move, and after helping Rowan clear the table, Aelin had given Olive a quick bath in order to think about anything else.

All Aelin had been able to think about was what if somehow, by letting Olive calling Rowan her dad, she had doomed her daughter into developing daddy issues, that she would grow up confused on how to feel about her biological father when all her life she had called another man dad.

Aelin banged her head against the steering wheel, wondering how a good, decent day had gone to a complicated mess in a matter of hours.

She stayed there for a while, until she realised that she needed to be the adult she was and left the car, knocking loudly on the white motel door.

The door flew open and Aelin was greeted by Sam, a small smile on his face. “I was wondering how long you were going to sit out there for.” Having no idea what to say to that, Aelin stayed silent and went inside when Sam invited her in.

Aelin worried at her lip, and sat at the tiny table by the TV. She truly had no idea what to say.

Sam sat across from her and took her hands in his. Aelin looked up and found nothing but openness in his warm brown eyes. “I'm not mad, if that's what you're thinking.”

Aelin blinked at him. While Sam wasn't a violent man, she wasn't expecting that. “How?” she managed to get out after a moment. “How could you not be mad? Your daughter is calling another man 'papa'.”

“I'm hardly Olive's father, Aelin, I'm aware that I'm not the most active dad, I've seen her only a handful of times since her birth and she's nearly two. It's clear that Rowan loves her, and that she loves him. I actually saw all four of you earlier today, at the park,” Sam added. “I was feeling nervous, like I always do before I see Olive, so I went to the park to have my breakfast. I heard your laugh and I turned, ready to call out to you, when I saw that you were having a picnic and I realised that you already had a family, that Rowan and Egan are your family, and that Rowan is Olive's father in the way that counts, in the way that matters, and that I'm just an intruder in your lives.”

Gripping his hands, Aelin shook her head. “Sam, you can't think like that, you're not an intruder. You're Olive's biological father, you're important.”

“And I'll always be grateful that I had a hand in creating her, but Aelin, I want you to look inside yourself and tell me truthfully, in ten years time, who do you see by your side, Olive's side? Because I know that it isn't me.” And it wasn't, Aelin didn't to look inside herself to know that. She was already thinking deeply about her future long before Sam's visit.

“I want you to know though,” Aelin said abruptly, “that I didn't deliberately set out to have Olive see Rowan as her father, that I did talk about you from time to time, but I-I don't think that she could make the connection that the voice on the end of the phone belongs to you. But I promise that if see ever asks about you, I'll tell her, I won't hide anything from her.”

“I know that you will,” Sam said, “just maybe tell her in a nice way that she's the result of a broken condom.”

Aelin laughed, feeling light for the first time since this whole thing started. “I will. Although I think I'll have to consult Google for that.”

Sam nodded, because even he knew that there were no books that could help with that conversation. “But if she never asks about me, then don't tell her.”

“Sam—”

“If Olive wants to believe for the rest of her life that Rowan is her biological father, then I'm okay with that. I'd rather her be happy than confused. Because when I heard Olive call Rowan 'papa', it felt right, like it made sense. And I know that's how you feel, too. And I know it makes no sense, but Olive somehow just looks like she's Rowan's daughter, you know? And I don't want to get in the way of that.”

Sam was far too nice for his own good. People as kind as him were hard to find. It was a miracle that in this life that she had met two men like that.

Aelin wiped at her eyes, the tears falling suddenly and fast. “How are you so nice when your father is a piece of shit?”

Sam snorted and handed her a tissue. “Years of therapy.” He took a deep breath, and in his brown eyes, the eyes that she had once fallen for so deeply, Aelin saw acceptance. “There's also something else...I was doing some soul searching before you came over, and I...I know that I'm not on the birth certificate and that I don't really have a say—”

“Sam, of course you have a say. Like I said earlier, you're Olive's biological father. You might not be on the birth certificate, but if you have opinions, then you can share them with me, I won't bite your head off.”

Sam gave her a tiny smile. “And I appreciate that, I do. But what I was going to say is this: if ever in the future Rowan wants to adopt Olive, then you and he have my blessing.”

Aelin stared at him for a long moment, letting the words sink in, and then the tears started again and Aelin's body shook with the force of her sobs. Because if Sam's father wasn't Arobynn, then she would have had the family that Sam was wholeheartedly accepting that she had with Rowan. And that he was willing to stand aside to let Olive have the father that she deserved.

Sam came over to her, hugging her to him as Aelin sobbed into his shoulder, running his hand up and down her back. Aelin had never let herself cry like this in front of him, she never really liked crying like that, but she couldn't help herself and couldn't stop herself for a long while. It was a good ten minutes later when the tears slowly subsided and Sam slowly pulled back, giving her a once over with his kind eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Aelin said, loudly blowing her nose with a handful of tissues. “I just...I wasn't sure what I was expecting to happen here tonight. Never did I think that you would offer something like that, Sam.”

“I would be just like Arobynn if I forced you to be unhappy, and I never want to be like him.”

“You're not,” Aelin said, “you'll never be like him. I hope one day, Sam, you'll be able to have a family of your own.”

Sam kissed her cheek, the gesture sending her back to when they were teenagers. “I hope so, too.”

Aelin stayed for a little while longer, just talking and reminiscing about the old times. And when she went home, she kissed him on the cheek, thanked him again, and told him that he would always have a special place in her heart, because without him, she wouldn't have Olive.

Sam repeated the sentiment, and wished her nothing but happiness with Rowan, and that he was glad she found him.

Aelin was glad she found Rowan, too.

X X X X X X

Aelin walked into her house, and was greeted by two ecstatic children, acting like they hadn't seen her for years. Aelin smiled and gave them their hugs that they desperately wanted. She went over to the kitchen counter where Rowan was preparing dinner—grilled cheese, that she knew very well had veggies hidden within, because Egan acted like vegetables were the world's most evil thing to exist—and kissed him on the cheek. He kissed her temple in response, and Aelin breathed in the homely scent of him.

“How did everything go with Sam?” he asked, moving about the kitchen to start the side salad.

“Great, and there's something very important that I have to tell you.” Rowan raised a silver brow, but Aelin kissed his cheek again and promised to tell him later.

X X X X X X

Aelin was more than ready to climb into bed and fall asleep, but she needed to tell Rowan about her conversation with Sam, so when they got settled and comfortable, Aelin told him what her ex-partner said.

Rowan was stunned for a moment, and she hadn't even told him the best part. “Truthfully, I was mentally preparing myself for Sam to punch me in the face after lunch, but to hear what he said to you, I feel like a fool for ever thinking that he would resort to that.”

“If he was more like his father, he definitely would have. But Sam is the polar opposite of Arobynn, and truly wants nothing more than for people to be happy.” Rowan smiled and took Aelin's hand in his, and Aelin relished in the comforting touch. “And there's something else,” Aelin added, and it was ridiculous, but a tiny part of her was nervous, that told her that Rowan wouldn't want Sam's blessing, that he wouldn't want to legally be Olive's father. “Sam told me that if you ever wanted to adopt Olive, then you have his blessing, because he wants nothing more than for Olive to be loved and cared for, and he sees that you're the one that can help provide her with that.”

Rowan looked at Aelin, and her own eyes watered when she saw that his were filling up. “I would be honoured to do that, Aelin. It would make me the happiest man in the world to have that privilege. And after we're married, we can start the process, and maybe one day, when Egan's a little older and he has a better understanding, you can adopt him too, because I know you like him just as much as I love Olive.”

“I do,” Aelin said, choking up. “That would be—” Aelin stopped, her mind finally catching up with what he just said. “Did you just propose to me?”

Rowan cracked a smile and kissed her. He pulled away just so, their noses touching. “Not yet, I haven't found the right ring.”

Aelin laughed joyfully, even as her tears overflowed. “Just to let you know, I'm not helping you out this time. You'll have to figure it out on your own.”

Rowan kissed her again and again. “Don't worry, I've already got a few choices in mind.”

“Good. Make sure its sparkles.”

“I will,” Rowan said, and took her into his arms.

It wasn't too bad of a day, after all.

[rhysismydaddy]

can you please write more rowaelin? maybe some fluff or this prompt: “i went over to your room because you were blasting music to find you lying in a pile of pillows sobbing and listening to some love song and now i don’t know what to do” but make rowan be secretly in love with her 🤭

Rowan didn’t know why exactly why he couldn’t sleep.

Well, yes he did.

He couldn’t sleep because the obnoxiously loud music coming from the dorm next to his was keeping him awake. 

But despite the noise, he should’ve still been able to fall asleep. 

He’d run himself ragged at practice today, doing extra laps around the rink, then staying to lift afterward. He’d skipped his morning coffee, even drank a fucking cup of tea an hour ago to “calm” himself, or whatever.

All things that should be able to allow him to ignore the music--and the woman playing it--and fall asleep. 

But nope. No such luck.

With anyone else, he’d go over, pound on the door, and demand they shut it off. But with his neighbor... that wasn’t exactly an option. 

Because his neighbor was Aelin Galathynius, aka the only woman Rowan had never been able to ignore.

A cheerleader with an obnoxiously addictive personality, she’d burst into his dorm two months ago, asking to borrow his stapler. Didn’t even knock.

He didn’t know if it was her smile, sense of humor, or complete lack of boundaries that drew him to her, but as soon as she stormed in, he was under her spell.

Which was unfortunate, considering she had a boyfriend.

Ever since then, every run in with her was like rubbing sandpaper over a burn. 

He was on edge, completely fucking whipped, and unable to do anything about it. 

Which is why he couldn’t go over and ask her to turn the music off, which in turn was why he hadn’t slept in two days. 

He ran a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut.

Twenty minutes later, when he was almost out of sanity and completely out of patience, he threw himself off the bed, stormed next door, and knocked hard enough his knuckles would probably bruise.

The music cut off, and he tried to brace himself for her little smirk, bright blue eyes, and body he’d had one too many dreams about, but no amount of preparation would’ve prepared him for what he saw when the door swung open.

Cloudy blue eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, rumpled clothes.

Down-turned lips, greasy hair, crestfallen expression.

He’d never seen her look anything but put together, and his chest clenched in response to seeing her upset. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, immediately forgetting the reason he’d come over at the sight of her tears. 

She nodded, putting on a decent show of acting unaffected. “I’m fine. Need to borrow my stapler or something?”

He didn’t laugh at the poor attempt at a joke, too concerned. “Aelin, you can talk to me. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, messy blonde hair falling in her face. “It’s stupid.”

Rowan leaned a shoulder on the doorframe and said honestly, “Nothing you could say would ever sound stupid to me. I promise.”

If she was this upset, he damn sure wasn’t going to tease her about the cause.

“I dumped Chaol,” she murmured. 

His brows shot up, and despite trying to stomp it out, hope bloomed in his chest. 

She’s crying, you jackass. 

And even though he shouldn’t, even though it would just make him more in love with her, he knew he couldn’t leave her like this.

“Come with me.”

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her outside and closed her door behind her, leading her into his dorm.

They lived in the athletic dorms, meaning they both had their own rooms, but he didn’t want her to be alone, and he didn’t want to invite himself in her place.

He gestured for her to sit on the couch, then sat as far away as possible. 

“Pizza?” he offered, opening the box he’d ordered earlier for dinner.

Aelin shrugged, taking a slice. She took in the hockey posters, game set, and bare-minimum décor, snickering. “You are such a guy.”

“I’m aware,” he laughed, frequently catching shit from his friends about how stereotypical he was. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, even as she pulled her legs underneath her and got comfortable. 

“Do you want me to beat the shit out of him?”

She grinned. “No, but thank you for the offer. He didn’t do anything. I just... don’t love him anymore.”

Rowan asked, “Then why are you upset?”

“I don’t know,” she groaned, taking a bite of pizza. “We were just together for so long, you know?”

He didn’t, but he nodded in agreement anyway. 

“He was such a big part of my life, and now I feel like he won’t ever speak to me again. It’s why I waited to break things off. I knew he’d push me away.” She played with the hem of her sleep shirt. “I’m sad about losing a friend, not a boyfriend.”

That, he understood. 

“When I was in high school, I moved all the time because my dad was in the military. I felt like I lost friends all the time. But my mom always said friendships are cyclical. People leave your life, others come in. You’re never alone.”

A tear fell down her cheek, and she brushed it away with a sniffle. “Yeah, but he was my best friend.”

Rowan’s heart hurt at how small her voice sounded. “I don’t know anything about the guy, but I can tell you one thing.”

She looked up from her lap and raised a brow. 

“If he never talks to you again, he’s a fucking idiot, and he didn’t deserve you in the first place.”

The corner of her lips turn up. “What do you know? You avoid me like the plague.”

Fuck. He didn’t think she’d noticed.

He felt the tip of his ears go hot, so he ducked his head and mumbled, “I don’t avoid you. I’m just busy.”

“Mmhm,” she mumbled unbelievingly, finishing off her slice of pizza.

There was still a bit of lingering silence in her shoulders, so he offered up another piece of his heart. “Even though I don’t see you a lot, Aelin, I can tell you you’d be hard to forget.”

She looked at him, eyes going a bit misty again. “Thanks, Ro.”

His chest warmed at the nickname, even as he shrugged in answer. He needed to do something to clear the air, so he grabbed an X-box controller and tossed it to her. “Call of Duty or Grand Theft Auto?”

Aelin smiled, and it looked genuine enough he finally relaxed. “Call of Duty. I’m going to kick your ass, Whitehorn.”

“I look forward to seeing you try, Galathynius.”

~~~~~~~~

Thank you for the ask <3

[gwyns]

inquiring minds would love to know what your thoughts on hosab are? 👀

i would like to apologize to the inquiring minds for replying to this so late! i wanted to try and gather my thoughts before i wrote this but tbh it'll probably just end up being a mish mash of word vomit anyway so here we go!!

the short answer is: i loved it. i absolutely devoured it. couldn't put it down.

to get more into it, everytime sjm releases something i am reminded of why, exactly, i love her books so much. sure maybe sometimes the plot is messy, or she pulls things out of her ass (i do this too so idc lmao), but she has such a way with creating characters you care about. that's the most important thing to me, and something she definitely succeeded in with hosab.

i adored quinlar in this book, they invented mates as far as i'm concerned. i can't even pick a few favorite quotes bc they served this entire book?? they're the stars of the series for a reason. i've said before that i think they're sjm's best main couple and i'm so happy she went with them. i mean it was never in question for me after reading hoeab but some people were so adamant that they'd be something that sjm "doesn't do" when in fact they're the exact thing sjm loves lol it was nice to have vindication.

and sir ithan holstrom? i'm not kidding here when i say he's cc's equivalent of chaol and lucien for me. he's just so.... ahjklsdhdjklhkjsdjk i need more of him immediately. i cannot begin to explain the level of love i have for this moron and it breaks my heart that he's currently in a very angsty place, looking for his home. i mean he has the aux guys and they're forever friends of course but it's not truly his you know? i can't wait to see what sjm does with his character next, him and that fendyr heir 👀 (real story: as soon as ithan "saved" her i was like wait a minute........ is something going to develop here?? and i hope i'm right bc i really liked what we saw of her in hosab)

do not even get me started on flynn and ariadne. we all know how bad i have it. they're pretty much my favorite cc ship behind quinlar and they barely interacted like??? what is this???? once ari said "i'm beyond your pay grade, lordling." and flynn replied with "try me." they had me. i can't escape the permanent brainrot they've given me. if sjm takes them away from me i'll cry so hard, no joke, the condescending use of sweetheart hasn't failed me yet and it better not start now!

alright let me take a minute to talk about cormac bc i've barely seen anyone mention him! am i the only one who loved this dude?? like even when his true motives were still a secret i was looking... he was a douche but he was hot????? i'm glad he wasn't an actual douche tho and i refuse to acknowledge that he's dead. nope! it happened off-screen, there's no way to actually confirm he's dead! not until sjm looks me in the eye and tells me. i have faith in a dramatic re-reveal in cc3.

and the twists hello??? maybe i'm dumb but aside from the ones that got spoiled for me (the crossover and day's identity) i never saw them coming?? baxian??? hypaxia and celestina???? DANIKA'S DAD??????

and i won’t go into depth with this bc there are many other people who can talk about this subject better than me but my GOD the lore we got in hosab that relates to both lunathion and prythian???? i’m salivating. i need more.

overall hosab didn't make me sob uncontrollably but it made in feel in other ways. for instance, i will die on the hill that (so far) it is sjm's funniest book. you can tell how much she loves this world and its characters bc it truly does show and idk if i'll be able to stop thinking about this book for the coming months.