#Maeve was not in Doranelle. How long would that remain true? Had to make the next performance count. — how many had she done this already?��😭

[acourtofquestions]

Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.

[house-of-galathynius]

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

@jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @tomtenadia @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @fredweasleyhasadhd @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival 

Chapter Fourteen ~ Secrets

Chapter Thirteen ~ Chapter Fifteen

The snow came soon enough. It covered everything in it’s white blanket and brought a bitter chill to the air. Aelin had lived through twenty-one of these winters, but every time the weather turned, taking the last remnants of autumn with it, she found herself mourning the loss. 

She surveyed the snow covered courtyard from her window, watching as the staff in charge of the garden swept the snow from the paths, small mounds of it building to the side. She could remember the times her and Aedion would push each other into them, making forts and snowmen from the massive mounds and when spring would begin to emerge those forts would be the last thing to disappear. 

“I can’t remember the last time I saw a winter like this.” Rowan had snuck up behind her, his arms coming around her in a loving embrace. “I suppose I will have to get used to them if I’ll be living here.” 

Aelin huffed. “If it was my choice I’d spend my winters somewhere hot and sunny. The cold is horrid.” She rested her hands on Rowan’s, snuggling closer. “I know you said Doranelle never felt quite like home… but do you think you’ll miss it?” 

He seemed to think a moment. “No. I don’t think I will.” 

A knock at the door had them breaking apart. 

“Aelin? Are you in there?” 

Lysandra’s voice was shaky on the other side of the door. Aelin looked to Rowan who had also noticed the slight tremor in her voice. 

Aelin strode to the door and opened it to find a teary Lysandra, her face red and blotchy. She was clutching a handkerchief and sniffling as she looked at Aelin. 

“Can I come in?”

“Of course, Lys.” She beckoned her in, leading her to the bed, Rowan exiting the room as she did.

“I need your help.” She let out a small hiccup and fell back onto the pillows. She wiped her nose and sniffed, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath. 

“You’re starting to scare me.” Aelin crawled beside Lysandra, crossing her legs and watching as Lysandra held back the tears. “What is it?” 

Lysandra hesitated for a moment, wiping more tears from her face. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Aelin tried not to let her shock show as she struggled to find words. Despite Terrasen being one of the more forward-thinking territories in Erilea… unwed mothers were still a taboo and Aelin hated to think it, but with Lysandra being so close to the royal family… it would make the situation more difficult. Not to mention how Aedion would react— assuming it was in fact his, Aelin hated to even think those thoughts. 

“I wanted to tell you sooner… but I had hoped it wasn’t true.” Lysandra brought the handkerchief to her nose once more. “The healers confirmed this morning.” 

“I don’t… have you told Aedion?” 

Another sniffle. “I don’t know how.” She sat up, turning to sit knee to knee with Aelin. “I’m terrified because once he knows we have to tell everyone else, and then there is going to be a huge debate on how it’s dealt with, and I just—“ Aelin leant over and held Lysandra and began stroking her hair as she cried. 

“We’ll figure it out Lys. Whatever happens.” 

“I’m so scared.” 

Aelin held her tighter. “I know. But you’re a member of this family and you’ll have all our support.” She let go and faced Lysandra. “Do you want me to be there when you tell him?” 

Lysandra hesitated and then nodded. 

“Today?” 

Another nod. 

“Okay. Stay here whilst I organise a couple of things. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” 

Aelin hopped off the bed, tucking Lysandra in. She threw on the nearest dress and combed through her knotty hair before heading down the breakfast room. 

When she entered the room her family were already sat there. She could see the snow clouds rolling in through the windows, small flakes already floating down. Her father greeted her as she came to stand at the head of the table. Aedion was flicking through some papers, uninterested in her arrival. 

“I’m not going to be able to meet with the planners today. Lysandra isn’t feeling well, so I’m going to look after her.” 

Orlon paused his sipping. “We have healers, Aelin. There’s no reason to abandon your duties.” 

“She doesn’t need the healers. It’s more of a woman thing.” She had used this card too many times to count— trying to get out of royal duties and snag a few extra hours in bed. 

Her mother gave her a knowing look. 

“I promise I will put in extra hours tomorrow to make up for it.” 

Orlon didn’t look convinced, but nodded anyway and went back to sipping his tea. Aedion had not looked up once from his papers, completely unaware of the shitstorm that was coming his way. 

Rowan on the other hand was giving Aelin a curious look. 

Is everything okay?

She gave a subtle nod. Lysandra just needs me. 

Did I scent what I think I did?

Shit. She had forgotten about the fae sense of smell. The castle was still crawling with other Whitethorns, not to mention Aedion who had been gifted the fae abilities too, if any of them got close enough to scent Lysandra…

“Aedion?” 

He finally looked up. 

“Can you come up when you’ve finished? Lysandra wants to see you.” 

“Why?”

She rolled her eyes. “Does she need a reason? She just asked me to get you.” 

“I’ll be up soon.” 

She stole a couple of pastries and walked back up to her room. She found Lysandra in the same spot she had left her in, her body curled into a ball, the sheets tightly pulled over her. 

“I asked Aedion to come up when he was done.” Aelin stroked her hair, placing the stolen pastries on the side table. “Do you want anything?” 

Lysandra shook her head. 

Aelin left her and went to sit on the sofa instead. She used her flame to light the fire, filling the room with a comforting warmth. Neither of them said anything, Aelin picking up discarded papers from the day before, trying and failing to read what was on them. The words blurring into each other the more she tried to focus. 

Trying to keep a pregnancy hidden in a palace full of humans was hard enough, but in a palace full of fae… it was going to be impossible. Aelin glanced to Lysandra who was still hidden beneath the covers. She knew what her parents would want, and she knew what Orlon would say needed to happen. But Lysandra was a free spirit, and the options she would be given in order to remain in the palace would not be desirable to her. 

She nibbled on the stolen pastry, barely tasting it as she swallowed it down. She should’ve told Aedion it was urgent and dragged him up with her, waiting for him was unbearable. Aelin picked up and immediately put back down the book she had been meaning to read. Her mind too worked up to focus on anything other than Lysandra. She stood up, going to the window and watching the snow fall, heavier than it had been earlier. The paths that had been swept clear only thirty minutes ago, were now covered with a white blanket. From her window she could almost see the city beyond, then the mountains in the distance which were layered with clouds. 

Aelin tore her gaze from the outside and back to Lysandra, who was know sat up and stating right back at her. 

“Your fidgeting is making me nervous.” Lysandra patted the spot beside her. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, stop worrying so much.” 

She huffed. “You’re one to talk — coming in here crying and then hiding under the covers. Of course I’m going to be worried Lys.” 

“I just found out I’m pregnant, I’m pretty sure my reaction is normal.” She brushed her hair to the side. “I’m pretty sure if you found out you were pregnant right now you would react a similar way.” 

“My situation is slightly different.” 

“But it wasn’t a year ago.” 

Aelin felt the words like a punch to the stomach. “Was that necessary to bring up?” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” Lysandra sighed and laid her head back on the pillows. “I’m just scared and I’m acting out. I didn’t mean it, Aelin.” 

“I don’t want anyone else knowing what happened last year, okay? With so many Fae in the palace, anyone could hear.” 

“You mean Rowan could hear?” 

She shrugged. “Any of them. If just one of them found out, there’s no doubt in my mind they would tell Rowan.” Aelin went to the door and peaked into the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief when no one was to be seen. “I’ll tell him eventually, I’m sure.” She pressed the door closed quietly and went back to the chair. 

“What do you think Aedion will do?” 

“I think he loves you and he’ll support you in any way he can.” 

Lysandra thought for a moment. “I don’t want people to know, Aelin. I can’t deal with the stares and the whispers. People already think less of me because I don’t come from noble blood… I don’t think I can deal with the looks that I’ll get.” 

Aelin’s heart squeezed. Lysandra was right. She had always been looked down upon from the other nobles in the palace, and in Orynth in general. People were cruel and this would fuel their dislike for her even more— especially since Aedion was seen as one of the most sought after males in the city. 

There was a knock on the door and Aedion strode through, assessing the two of them as he did. 

“I don’t have long, I’ve got a meeting with Lord Allsbrook in ten minutes.” He took another look at Lysandra who had paled in the face and looked like she could pass out any second. “Is everything okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.” 

Lysandra jumped from the bed and half ran to the bathroom. Aelin tried not to wince at the sounds of her vomiting. Aedion started towards the bathroom, but Aelin stood to stop him. “Leave her for a moment.” 

“What is going on? Should I get a healer? If she’s sick she should be getting help.” He moved around Aelin’s hand. Aelin slipped in front of him, her hands going to his chest, pushing him back towards the chair. He narrowed his eyes at Aelin. “You said it was a woman thing, but that does not sound—“ 

“For the love of God, please would you just do as I say.” Aedion backed off slightly, his brows furrowing as another bout of vomiting could be heard. 

“If she’s not sick then why is she—“ Realisation dawned on his face as he put two and two together. He stepped back and slumped into the chair, his eyes glossing over. “Gods almighty.”

“Aedion, please don’t freak out yet. Lysandra needs you, and if you’re freaking out it won’t help anyone.” 

The sounds of shuffling came from behind and Lysandra chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom. One hand rested on her still flat stomach, her gaze on Aedion. He didn’t move as she made her way towards him, eventually coming to crouch in front of him, her hands gripping his own. 

“I found out this morning. I had suspected for a couple of weeks… but the healers confirmed it.” 

“I thought you were taking a tonic? I mean… this is not possible.” He shook his head. “The healers told you it was effective, that the chances of conceiving whilst taking it were low.” 

“Low, but not impossible.” 

Aedion turned to Aelin. “And you knew about this? For how long?” 

“I found out this morning. I haven’t known much longer than you.” She put her hands up in defence. 

Lysandra stood from her crouch and went to the bed again, her hands immediately going back to her stomach as she sat. “I don’t want anyone to know yet. Not until we figured out the next moves.” 

Aedion shook his head. “You’ll never be able to keep it a secret here.” He stood too, starting to pace. “We could go to the cabin in the mountains, or go to the summer palace.” 

Aelin shook her head. “The cabin is too far and too isolated. If she needs healers it will take too long for them to reach her, and the summer palace is impossible to reach during the winter.” 

Aedion groaned. “So we find an apartment in the city and stay there. The healers can get there easily and its safe.” 

“What are you going to tell everyone, Aedion? You can’t just leave the palace for nine months without a valid explanation.” Lysandra’s voice cracked as she spoke. 

Aedion went to her side, his arm snaking around her waist as he pulled her in closer, Lysandra’s head resting on his shoulder. He placed a kiss on the top of her head before he looked to Aelin. “I’m not leaving her alone. What if something happens?” 

Aelin hated the thought of Lysandra being alone too. But it would be too suspicious if Aedion suddenly left the palace, and she couldn’t even begin to think of the complexities of trying to find an apartment in the city without someone catching on. 

They all looked to the door as someone knocked. Aedion went white as he started to panic. Lysandra quickly crawled back under the covers, hiding her non-existent bump. 

Aelin got up and opened it, the tension in her shoulders easing when it was just Rowan. She ushered him in and Aelin saw Aedion and Lysandra relax. 

The four of them remained in silence until Rowan cleared his throat and started to speak. 

“Should I be congratulating you?” 

Aedion glared at Aelin. “You told him?” 

“I am a full-blooded Fae male. I scented it on her when she came here this morning.” 

Lysandra groaned into the pillow. “If Rowan already knows, then how many others do you think can scent it on me? I can’t stay here!” 

“Could you and Rowan not say you want somewhere private to stay? Then Lysandra could stay there and if we visited it wouldn’t be as suspicious.” 

Aelin tried to hide the blush that crept up her cheeks as thought of it. She cleared her throat. “It would never be approved, Aedion. You know we couldn’t do that before a mating or wedding ceremony. The Lords would go crazy if they knew Rowan and I were living away from the palace alone.” 

They fell into silence again as they all thought. The only sounds came from the crackling fire and howls of the wind from outside. 

“What about asking Sam?” 

Aelin’s head shot up to stare at Rowan. 

“That’s out of the question. He won’t speak to me.” 

“Lysandra is still friends with him. I’m sure if you explained the situation, he would let her stay. It would be perfect. It’s somewhere close by, she wouldn’t be alone and it would give us good excuses to go into the city to see her.” 

Aelin couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Except no one would believe me if I said I was going to visit Sam. My parents know everything, they would know something is up.” 

“Then we tell your parents about Lysandra. Then the four of us and your parents will be the only ones to know. And Sam.” 

“The last time I saw him he told me I was dead to him.” Rowan brushed his hand against her own. A silent gesture of love between the two of them. “It would be better if it came from you Aedion.” 

Aedion froze a moment. “I don’t think Sam will want to see me either. I may have paid him a visit after everything happened.” 

“Aedion.” Lysandra swatted his head. “You idiot.”

“I didn’t realise we would need his help. I’m sorry for defending my cousin.” 

Aelin shushed him and hesitated slightly before speaking, her hand rubbing her forehead. “I’ll go. If he knows it’s for Lysandra maybe he’ll feel more inclined to help.” She turned to Rowan. “You don’t mind?” 

“Of course not.” 

“I guess it’s settled then. I’ll go into the city and try and see him today.” 

Aedion gave her a smile and helped Lysandra out of the bed. “We’ll go and get her things together.” 

Aelin nodded. 

She remained in the same spot, picking bits of lint from her dress; unsure of what to say to Rowan. She felt the need to explain herself to him, but there was nothing to explain. Rowan knew most of the history between Sam and herself, and maybe that was it. He didn’t know all the history, and after Lysandra’s comment this morning… well maybe she did owe an explanation before they left.

“You don’t need to say anything, Aelin. I trust you.” 

“I know. But Lysandra said something to me earlier and now I feel the need to tell you because you’re my mate and I don’t want secrets between us.” She couldn’t look at him as she continued. “Last year during autumn I found out I was pregnant.” 

Rowan sucked in a breath. Her chest tightened as his eyes met her own. “I assume it was Sam’s?” 

Aelin nodded. “I didn’t tell anyone other than Lysandra and Aedion. I had planned on telling my parents when I began to show… and then I guess I would have either renounced my claim on the throne or Sam would have been given some fake title and we would get married.”

Rowan sat on the small couch, his hands clasped in front of him. “You didn’t tell Sam?”

She shook her head. “I was terrified of what he would do or say and then I got more scared of what other people would think and I just felt stupid that I had put myself in that position.” Aelin tipped her head back and leant it on the back of the chair. “It had been about a week since I had found out, and I was preparing myself on what to say to Sam, when I woke in the night and found a pool of blood on my sheets and I knew what had happened.” She wiped away tears. “The worst part was that I felt relieved. And maybe that makes me an awful person, but when I saw the blood… I really didn’t feel anything other than relief.” She sniffed, remembering the night it had happened, the wetness of her nightgown and the sheets around her, the momentary panic and then the weight lifting from her shoulders when she realised what had happened. She hadn’t hesitated before cleaning herself up and burning the sheets and replacing them herself before someone asked questions. She hadn’t shed a tear the entire time, not even when she told Lysandra who sat there and cried enough for the both of them. Perhaps she was an awful person, but even now, she still feels relief when she thinks back.

Rowan interrupted her thoughts. “You’re not an awful person.” Rowan still hadn’t looked at her, his gaze focused on the fire. “But you’ve never told Sam?” 

“I didn’t know how. He already had these grand ideas of us running away together and starting new lives away from Orynth, if I had told him I was expecting his child he would have got carried away and I— I don’t know. I just didn’t want that.” 

“You’re not an awful person for feeling relief. But if it was me… I would want to know. Sam deserved to know, Aelin.” 

Her voice wobbled. “I know he did.” 

Rowan shifted in his seat, finally meeting her eyes. “I will never question your past because I did not know you then, and you knew what was best for you at that time. But please, Aelin, as your mate, don’t keep me in the dark.” He came to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in his. “I love you unconditionally and I will support you through everything. But never be afraid of sharing things with me. Whatever is thrown at us we will manage together, as a pair. There will never be a burden too heavy that I can’t help you carry, okay?” 

Aelin could only nod as she brought her mouth to Rowans, holding his face in her hands as she poured her love into the kiss, hoping that Rowan would know what she was trying say. Rowan pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I love you, Aelin. No matter what happens.” 

“I love you. Thank you for being patient with me, I know I’m a handful and come with a lot of baggage for someone so young.” Aelin let out a laugh.

Rowan grinned in response. “I don’t care about the baggage, Aelin. We all have it, it’s just part of life.” He kissed her forehead once then pulled her up out of the chair. “Let’s go do this before you overthink it all.” 

She laughed and swatted his arm, the two of them heading for the door. 

[imaginedhaven]

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Nineteen

Link to Masterpost

It’s here! It’s finally here! Thank you all so much for putting up with my extended absence while I wrangled this chapter and my life. The first half feels... idk, kind of filler-y? But I hope the second half makes up for it!

Definitely just one more after this and then an epilogue.

~*~*~

Aelin frowned as she looked over yet another draft of a letter, grabbing at the candle on her desk to keep it steady as a particularly large wave rocked the ship. “I hate formal letters,” she grumbled.

Aedion chuckled from the bed across the room from her own. “It can’t possibly be any worse than the… seventeen previous attempts,” he said as he glanced at the scraps of paper littering the area around her.

“Aedion, this is important.” She sighed, tugging at her own hair. “Everything is on the line, and I need it to be perfect.”

“How is it,” he asked, “that you can be absolutely fearless facing down a Valg queen and yet be so defeated by a simple piece of paper?”

“Says the male who couldn’t even tell me he’d met his father before we’d already left Wendlyn,” Aelin retorted unthinkingly before immediately regretting her words.

Rather than get angry, though, Aedion only sighed. Aelin frowned; he must truly have been torn about the situation, if he wasn’t yelling at her. “Says the male who followed you to face down said Valg queen,” he replied, though it was without any of his usual teasing.

“Very well,” she said primly. “If you would like to write to the lords and request this meeting, then by all means.” She stood up and positioned herself beside the desk chair, sweeping an arm toward it in a grand gesture with a grin.

He finally laughed, and though it was a shadow of his normal reaction it made her smile regardless. “You don’t want me writing to the lords under your name. They’d only hate you more.”

Aelin sighed, tugging at the end of her own braid. “It was easier when I didn’t care how they felt about me, you know.”

“I know.” Aedion stood then, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “But for what it’s worth, the fact that you care—and that all you’ve done here, you’ve done for Terrasen—those facts, not any pretty words you can put on a paper, are what will hold the most sway.”

“I hope you’re right.” She leaned against him, head resting against his shoulder. “I’m certainly not good at pretty words. You saw my letter to Galen, right?”

He chuckled at the memory. “’Terrasen remembers Evalin Ashryver.’ So needlessly dramatic.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” she asked, defensive. “He met with me, and he even agreed with me.”

“I never questioned your results, cousin, only your methods.”

Aelin let out a noise that sounded embarrassingly close to a squawk, outraged. “My methods are what got us to this point, cousin,” she reminded him. “They brought us the proof we needed as well as the support of other royal lines. Not to mention the end of a longstanding enemy of Terrasen. Oh, and a Valg queen.”

“That reminds me,” Aedion drawled as Aelin froze, “I wanted to ask you about how you knew of this Arobynn Hamel in the first place.”

Aelin winced. While it had been easy enough to avoid the question with Captain Westfall, she knew Aedion would not be so easily put off. Not to mention the fact that she was fairly certain he was still upset with her for keeping her plans from him. If she didn’t handle this in just the right way, she was liable to have a far larger fight with her only surviving family than she was prepared for.

And she was certainly not prepared to handle the situation correctly now, not while there was so much else to do. Instead, she sighed. “Can we talk about him later?” she pleaded. “I really do need to work out what I’m going to say to the lords.”

“You’re terrified,” he said softly, as if in realization. “I didn’t stop to think of why you never told me. I was just angry that you were leaving me out when I could help.”

Aelin grimaced. “Is it truly that obvious?”

“It likely wouldn’t be to many others. Only to those who know you well.”

With a wave of her hand, she extinguished the flame of the candle on her desk. She wasn’t going to get any further on the letter, not right now. Perhaps she would go up to the deck and let the motion of the waves ease her mind. That plan had the further benefit of ending this conversation; Aedion was avoiding looking at the ocean for any great length of time.

Before she could leave, though, Aedion spoke again. “Tell me, Aelin. What are you so afraid of? Why would you keep all of this to yourself, for so long?”

Aelin sighed. So the truth-telling was to start now after all, then. “You’ll hate me,” she whispered.

“I could never hate you.” His reply was soft and yet fierce, and when she looked at him she saw a fire in his eyes that matched her own.

“Truly?” she asked. “Even if I nearly left Terrasen with no clear ruler?”

There was no hesitation in Aedion’s voice as he responded. “Even then. Terrasen is our home, but you’re my family.”

Aelin could feel the tears welling up in her eyes from the affirmation of her cousin’s loyalty and devotion. Rather than letting him see it as well, though, she tugged him into a firm embrace. “I’m going to the upper deck,” she declared, “before you decide you’re sick of me after all.”

He laughed. “It’s far too late for that. Are you sure you’re not going up there to see if you can spot a hawk following behind the ship?”

Aelin didn’t bother pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about. “He won’t be,” she said simply. “I ordered him not to.”

As she climbed the ladder and looked out onto the horizon, though, she couldn’t quite stop herself from looking eastward and imagining a pair of wings in the distance.

~*~*~

“We’ve spoken of this continent at great length,” Sellene said as she set a map aside. “But what of Erilea? Did we have ties with them? Will any of the nations want diplomatic ties, other than Terrasen?”

“I imagine most of Erilea will want to hear from you, now that we’re establishing ties with Terrasen,” Rowan said wearily. “We largely ignored the entire continent before now, as Maeve never left Doranelle.”

“And now we know why.” Sellene frowned. “I should probably make it a point to arrange a diplomatic tour and re-establish some of those ties. We’ve been secluded for far too long as it is. Not to mention, I’m soon to have family in Erilea.”

And there it was. He had been wondering how long it would take her to bring up the obvious relationship between himself and Aelin. To be blunt, he was surprised she had made it a full week without that teasing glimmer in her eyes. “It would be even sooner, if you would consider my portion of this mess completed so that I could leave,” he remarked pointedly.

Sellene laughed, clearly delighting in his misery as she usually did. “And ruin Aelin’s moment? I couldn’t possibly be so rude. No, she told me exactly when to send you back, and I intend to listen to her.”

“And I’m assuming you don’t intend to tell me a damned thing about it,” he grumbled.

Though she didn’t directly answer his question, Sellene’s grin told him everything he needed to know. “You’re about to be leaving us forever,” she said in a tone approaching serious. “I think that means I can keep you here for a little bit longer.”

“Does it bother you?” Not the question he had intended to ask, but he supposed he couldn’t take it back at this point.

“On a political level, or a personal one?”

“Either. Both.” Sellene wasn’t the closest of his cousins; that honor belonged to Enda, with whom he had been raised. However, the Whitethorns were a close enough family in general that it was possible and even likely that she had an opinion of some sort about it.

“No, and no,” she smiled. “Your mating and likely eventual marriage to the future queen of Terrasen is a political boon, not a drawback at all. Not to mention that I like her for you. She’s going to challenge you, and the gods know you need that.”

“She already has,” he grumbled, but he couldn’t keep a hint of a smile from his face in response. “Daily, in fact.”

“I knew I liked her.” Sellene shifted her attention back to the maps laid out in front of them. “She has family in Wendlyn as well, right? Her potential claim came from her Ashryver heritage, if I’m not mistaken.”

Rowan nodded. “She does, though relations between Wendlyn and Terrasen have been somewhat strained of late. Maeve’s disapproval of the marriage between Evalin Ashryver and Rhoe Galathynius left an impact that has been felt for decades.”

“I see,” she muttered. “So this transition is truly going to affect large parts of the world.”

“Larger than many know, and larger than most of those who know are willing to admit. It will likely take months or even years for the full impact to be revealed.”

Gods, he certainly hoped she didn’t intend to keep him here for months or years. It had been ten days since Aelin had left and ordered him to remain, and they had been some of the longest days of his life to date. The pull of their bond tugged at him with every waking moment, just enough that it was impossible to forget, and he frequently found himself looking to the northwest as though he could see her across the sea that separated them.

A slender hand tucked itself into the crook of his elbow, and he turned his head to see that Sellene was now standing beside him. “It won’t be forever,” she murmured. “It won’t even be very long. I know we can’t hope to keep you for any great length of time.”

It was true enough, certainly. Even the blood oath he had sworn felt like a mere suggestion against the pull of the mating bond, one he knew he could likely work around with even the most shallow of excuses. Still, he frowned at his cousin. “And yet here I am.”

“I have plans for you yet,” she replied. “We’re done for today, though. I need to meet with Lorcan and Vaughan, now that they’ve returned.”

Rowan nodded and turned to the window again, glancing once more in the direction of the sea. “Vaughan is likely to stay and serve you,” he said quietly. “It’s Lorcan you’ll need to convince.”

“I don’t intend to keep anyone who doesn’t wish to stay. Yourself included. I’ll meet with them all, but you’ll all have a choice.” When he turned to face her the amused glimmer was gone from her eyes and the corners of her mouth were drawn down in a thoughtful frown. “I will not rule as Maeve did.”

“You never did like me having sworn to her,” he recalled.

Sellene scowled. “She swept in when you were at your lowest moment and made a bargain you had little choice but to accept. Our family may have officially forgotten that, but I assure you that I have not.”

“It was my choice,” he protested, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears.

“We can discuss this later.” She dismissed the topic with a shake of her head. “I really do have a meeting to get to, and you’ve been staring at the skies for the past hour. Go fly.”

Rowan didn’t even wait for her to leave the room before shifting, darting out of the open window in a flurry of winds and wings. He may not be able to go to his mate just yet, but perhaps the flight would clear his head long enough to do what had to be done.

~*~*~

Aelin sighed as she stared at the double doors she knew led to the audience chamber. The lords of Terrasen had gathered as she had requested, and now that she’d had a day to try and rest it was time to face them.

As she stood, she smoothed trembling fingers over the green silk of the gown she had chosen for this meeting. It was a simple style, adorned with a belt and jewelry of silver to match Terrasen’s colors. Though as crown princess she was entitled to wear a circlet in official meetings, she had chosen to forego the headpiece. Instead, her hair was braided around her head in a style that mimicked the circlet she had decided to go without. She and Lysandra had carefully decided on every element of her appearance that morning, knowing she would need to present herself as someone who loved her country, but wasn’t preemptively assuming the role she was seeking.

She truly disliked this part of politics, she thought with a sigh. But her image mattered just as much as her deeds, for all she thought it shouldn’t, and she had a part to play.

With that in mind, she carefully assumed an easy smile before pushing the doors open and strolling into the room.

A long table had been set up in the chamber, with a seat for each of the prominent lords of Terrasen. She glanced at each one as she passed, as was expected and polite, though she didn’t truly see any of them. No, all of her focus was on the open throne at the end of the table. It would continue to go vacant, of course; Darrow was only a regent, not a king, and she was not yet queen. They each had their own chair on either side of the vacant throne, and Darrow was already seated in his.

With any luck, this would be the last day the throne would be empty. Aelin took a breath and thought a silent prayer to Mala Fire-bringer before sitting in her own chair. “I’m so pleased you were all able to meet with me on such short notice,” she began. “Much has happened since the last time we were all able to gather.”

“I should say so,” a voice sneered from across the table. “A foreign queen is dead, by your hand. Your letter admitted as much.”

Another deep breath, and Aelin looked inside herself, searching for the drop of calming water at the center of her fiery power. “Lord Sloane,” she acknowledged, pleased with the lack of tremor in her voice. “I’m certain you have concerns, as there was only so much I could share in my letter. I hope to address those concerns today.”

“And we are pleased to hear your explanation.” This voice was warmer, and Aelin rewarded Lord Murtaugh Allsbrook with a thin smile.

“Thank you, Lord Allsbrook. My cousin and our general, Aedion, has gathered the evidence that we obtained over the course of the past several months, proving that the Fae Queen was not who she claimed to be.” With that, she set the book and various papers they had accumulated during their research on the table, to be passed around among the lords. “Before I acted, I presented this evidence in Adarlan and in Wendlyn. I also sent copies to the other ruling families in Erilea, though I did not have time to wait for all of them to reply. I did everything I could to both protect us all from the threat of the Valg and upset the balance of power as little as possible. That leads me to the reason I called you all here today.”

“Why call us here, if not to explain yourself?”

Another deep breath, another grasp at what calm laid within her. “Explaining my actions was always intended to be a part of this meeting, Lord Ironwood. I could hardly expect you to trust me blindly.”

A softer voice spoke up then. “You have my thanks, and you should have the thanks of all present, for both saving our kingdom and taking the time to explain your actions.”

“It was the least I owed you, Lord Suria,” she replied.

The meeting went on, her own words barely registering in her ears. Ordinarily by this point she would’ve already singed some of the papers spread across the table, or at the very least shouted at someone as smoke began to fill the room. Rowan’s training had paid off, after all.

She quickly cut off that line of thinking. It wouldn’t do to tune completely out of the conversation in favor of missing Rowan, not when everything she had worked for was on the line.

Finally, she reached the moment she had been building toward. “So, we’ve agreed that my magic is much better controlled than it has been in years. That leaves the question of a spouse.”

“Yes,” Regent Darrow interjected. “We heard that you won’t be marrying Prince Dorian after all. Have you made another selection?”

Aelin took a deep breath. “It is my request to you and to all of the lords present that I be allowed to assume my throne without a husband. I believe that I have proven myself and my love of this country, and I have made every effort to comply with your requests. Many of our previous rulers, and many of our current and previous lords, have gone on to successful careers unmarried and found their spouses in good time. This is not a declaration that I will never marry, simply a request that my current marital status be removed from your consideration of my right to rule.”

Silence followed her statement, but Aelin kept her nerves from her expression as best she could. She had said her piece and presented the evidence, and now her fate rested in the hands of the lords.

She knew that Lords Ironwood, Sloane, and Gunnar would be the least likely to accept. Lord Allsbrook was likely firmly on her side, and Lord Suria had proven reasonable in the past. Regent Darrow was technically one of the lords as well, and she couldn’t be certain whether or not he would approve of this maneuver. Either he would be impressed by her machinations or he would resent her for going around him.

That left Lord Lochan, who had remained silent throughout the deliberations. She wasn’t certain of his decision, either. She could only pray.

An unexpectedly high-pitched voice interrupted her thoughts. “I don’t see why we should impede Aelin any further. We will still be around as counsel, and I believe I serve as proof that a woman can rule without a husband.”

Aelin turned to the speaker and shock overtook her.

~*~*~

Aedion paced in the hallway outside the audience chamber, hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly as he walked. There was nothing further he could do. While he was a successful military leader and his word might have held sway on a matter regarding the troops alone, he had no title or lands in Terrasen and he could not have any decision on the matter of Aelin’s right to rule.

He wondered if Aelin felt equally powerless, with her fate in the hands of the lords and only her words to guide them.

No, surely Aelin was actively plying every charm she had available to her. She wasn’t locked out of the room while they deliberated, as he was. While the final decision would not be her own, she still had some degree of power.

A noise broke the silence behind him and he whirled around, sword half drawn before he recognized the person who stood before him. “Nervous?” Lysandra chuckled.

“Are you not?” Aedion sighed as he did his best to relax. “I don’t think I’ve felt so powerless in years. The last time was after the first time you told me off for… how did you put it, exactly, ‘territorial male bullshit’?”

“Aelin helped with the phrasing,” Lysandra admitted.

He snorted. “That much was obvious. It’s a fight we’ve had for years now.”

She leaned against his side, humming softly. “She’ll be fine, you know. Evangeline’s been working on Darrow from the moment we arrived, and you know his vote holds the most sway.”

“Has she, now?” He tugged playfully on one of her chestnut curls. “I can’t imagine who she learned that from.”

“Well, it most certainly wasn’t you. To be blunt, I��m amazed you haven’t drawn that sword and rushed into the room already.”

So was he, but she didn’t need to know that. Instead, he turned to properly embrace her. “And to think I was about to tell you how much I missed you,” he teased.

“Here in this hallway? Where anyone could find us? How scandalous.”

As Lysandra laughed, Aedion felt his ears grow warm. “As much as I’m certain at least one courtier would enjoy the show, I’d rather save that part of it for later.”

“Well, that’s a good thing. I couldn’t stop someone else from coming down to see you as well, since you arrived after her bedtime.”

Aedion turned just in time to see Evangeline flying down the hall, golden locks streaming behind her as she approached him at a full sprint. He bent his knees just enough that he wouldn’t be knocked over by the impact and caught her gently around the waist, something in his chest tightening at the way she wrapped her arms around him. “I missed you too, Evangeline,” he assured her. “But Lysandra tells me you’ve been keeping busy while I was away.”

She nodded and smiled. “I’ve been helping Regent Darrow. I deliver messages. Sometimes I write them too, but I’m not good at that yet.”

“I’m sure you’ve been very helpful,” he replied. “And I’m glad to see you’ve been doing well.”

“You’re back to stay now?” Citrine eyes dark with suspicion glanced up at him. “You’re not leaving again?”

He sighed. “I can’t promise I’ll never have to leave,” he cautioned her. “But I’ll always do my best to come back home as quickly as possible. And I don’t have to leave anytime soon.”

She nodded, hugging him once more before taking up a position behind Lysandra. Lysandra let a hand rest on the girl’s shoulder and glanced up at him. “So now we wait?”

Aedion nodded, one hand lifting to card through his own hair. “Now we wait. There’s nothing else we can do.”

He supposed it was a good sign that the audience chamber was so silent. If no one had raised their voice, it was likely that Aelin hadn’t set anything on fire either, and that was possibly the worst thing she could do at this point. Rowan had trained her well, certainly, but not even years of intensive training would manage to wipe away the bulk of Aelin’s temper and the male had only had a few short months to attempt the task.

On the other hand, it was entirely possible that the room was silent because Aelin had decided she preferred knives to fire. Aedion shivered as he considered the possibility.

Before he could ponder too much further, however, the doors opened and he immediately straightened, hand returning to the hilt of his sword. His cousin emerged from the room, shoulders drawn in close and looking down at the floor. She was obviously exhausted, but neither her posture nor the soft conversation still ongoing in the room behind her provided him with any indication as to how the meeting had gone.

He rushed to meet her as she allowed the doors to swing shut behind her and took a deep breath. “How did it go?”

“I was unaware that Lord Lochan had died while we were in Doranelle,” she replied. “I know you probably didn’t know either, but it would’ve been nice to avoid looking like an idiot in front of the lords.”

Aedion grimaced. “Did it truly go that poorly? What did they say?”

Aelin finally looked up at him, eyes gleaming. “His daughter inherited his position, and did a great deal to argue our case.”

“Little Elide is Lord of Perranth now?” he spluttered.

“Lady, technically, and she’ll pretend not to hear you if you address her otherwise in a formal capacity.” His cousin grinned. “I might need to adopt that tactic myself.”

He wasn’t quite certain how he managed to avoid his knees buckling in relief. “Then it is done?”

“I’m afraid not,” she replied. “You’re about to have a great deal of planning thrust upon you.”

Aedion frowned. “Planning? Whatever for?” Gods, if the lords had renewed their case for a marriage between himself and his cousin… well, he would do it if she asked it of him, but she might also kill him so it would remain an impossibility.

Aelin laughed. “So serious. For my coronation, of course.”

“Your coronation?” Lysandra asked from somewhere behind him, and he was grateful she had done so for he found himself suddenly unable to speak.

“Yes. You’re looking at the next Queen of Terrasen, and the lords have officially approved of my ascent to the throne.”

Aedion hugged his cousin tightly, not missing the triumphant gleam in her eyes. Now that this moment was finally here, he wasn’t sure why he had ever doubted her ability to sway them. After all, it only took one glance at her now to see the queen that she was.

Perhaps the lords had finally seen it, too.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer  @rabodocardan - having a hard time tagging you! Not sure what broke on tumblr this time lol @courtofjurdan @danibutterr

[booknerdproblems]

Immortals Chapter 3

Hello lovely people! This is chapter three of my throne of glass fanfiction, Immortals. This is a bit of a filler chapter, and I found it really hard to write as it wouldn’t flow so it’s not my best work. Next chapter will make up for it! Promise! 

You can find my masterlist with the links to previous chapters here

TW: none

Cheers of joy reached Rowan’s ears, streamers were thrown and children laughed in the streets. Music filtered through the cobbled streets, so unlike those of Doranelle, the melodies joyous and upbeat. Smiles graced everybody's faces, not an unhappy soul in sight. Rowan was wearing a finely made tunic and pants, but they were comfortable and easy to move in, not at all like the itchy, restricting clothing made by the shopkeepers in Doranelle. You would think immortality  would make better clothing.

Rowan was happy and content, a wide smile curving his lips as he overlooked the chanting crowds. 

His arm was wrapped around a lithe, warm body, pressed into his side. He turned his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, the golden-blonde strands floating on a phantom breeze. 

He took her hand, bringing it up between them and placing another kiss on the ring newly added to her finger. 

Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and he looked back to see Fenrys smiling warmly at him, 

“Congrats, Rowan. You both deserve this happiness.”

Rowan smiled at Fenrys, and looked back to the crowds, still chanting with joy.

He turned his head, and met the turquoise-and-gold eyes of Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

Long live Queen Aelin! Long live King Rowan! Long may they reign!

-x-

Rowan shot upright, his heart pounding as blood roared in his ears. He ran a hand through his hair and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his breathing uneven. He grabbed a shirt and weapons, heading for the forest that surrounded the City of Rivers. That dream had unnerved him. The new queen and… him. Engaged. Side by side. In the white walls of Orynth. No blood oath. No pain, no death, no war. And it looked… nice. Content. He’d even looked happy. 

But that wasn’t his reality. No, in reality he had a blood-oath, immortality and no memory of being truly happy. Not real, that dream wasn’t real. 

That was what Rowan was repeating, over and over in his head as he ran. Not real, as his feet thumped on the forest floor. Not real, as his Fae form streaked through the trees. Not real, as sweat started to form a sheen over his skin. Not real, not real, not real. 

Ever since Lyria died, he’d been in an endless loop of serve and protect. Maeve, his brothers, the Fae of Doranelle. But Rowan still felt discontent, as if there was something better out there, just waiting for him to find. In the deepest parts of him, he longed to be free, to see more and more of the forests and mountains that covered the world. And even deeper than that, he longed to have a home. Doranelle had never quite been his home, not really. In his and Lyria’s house, nestled in the mountains, was the only place he’d truly felt content. And even then he’d longed to leave. And he had. He’d left his pregnant mate alone. And they’d slaughtered her for it.

Just as Rowan was about to turn back toward Doranelle, the clash of swords and grunts of effort reached his ears. He looked through the trees, and his breath caught in his throat. 

Aelin Galathynius was fighting. Training, by the looks of it, with the human lord. She was dressed in a skintight black suit that looked like it hid more than a few lethal weapons.

 And she was good. Really good. And completely unmatched. She moved like a storm-blessed wind, swift and sharp and strong. The man was panting, barely still gripping his sword as he deflected attack after attack. She had barely worked up a sweat. Her hair was high up in a ponytail, the ends drifting just to her lower back, even tied up. Her hairstyle revealed her rounded ears, and Rowan stared, curious, at the way she moved. Less grace, less power than the night of the ball, not an ember to be seen. Utterly human, as much as she’d been fully fae before. And still entirely lethal. 

Gods, if this was her as a human, imagine how much of a fighter she’d be in her Fae form. She might even be able to beat him. 

Before he could take a step toward the pair, Aelin stopped and sheathed her sword, the young lord just smiling grimly at her before stumbling to where they’d stashed waterskins, nestled in the roots of a gnarled tree.

“Damn, Aelin,” the man, Ren, panted.

Aelin just smirked, not moving out of her defensive position. She was scanning the trees around the 

clearing she stood in the middle of, her piercing eyes drinking in every detail. Rowan quickly moved, on Fae-silent feet into the shadows of the nearest tree, not wanting to be seen. No matter how sharp they were, her human eyes would never catch a Fae when they didn't want to be seen. Aelin seemed to debate shifting, but seemed to decide against it, just offering a hand up to the male sitting on the forest floor. 

“Let’s go,” Aelin muttered, “we aren’t alone.”

The man took her hand, hauling himself up and casting a look around the clearing, clearly uneasy. Rowan turned, deciding not to follow, instead sprinting back to Doranelle, relishing the fleeting glimpse of freedom that came with pushing his body to the limits. 

-x-

“Report.” Was Maeve’s only order to the cadre.

Vaughan started, “The shifter. Lysandra Ennar, from no noble bloodline, but to be a Lady of  Terrasen when she chooses. She owns a small territory in the north of Terrasen, by the name of Carraverre, but has not yet taken up the title.”

Maeve nodded, her face impassive.

Gavriel spoke next, “Her Majesty has left a demi-fae male in charge in her stead, goes by the name of Aedion Ashryver, a Prince of Wendlyn, her blood-sworn, lived in Terrasen since birth.” 

The wise male had an odd sort of tension in his face but it, thankfully, didn’t draw Maeve’s notice.

Rowan hesitated, then spoke, “She’s a formidable fighter. She’s had training, and a lot of it. I saw her sparring with the human male this morning. He's good for a human, but she could beat him into the dust in minutes. In her Fae form, with her magic, she could easily take on any of us.”

At this, Maeve finally looked interested.

“And without her magic?” She asked.

Rowan thought back to the forest, where Aelin Galathynius had displayed her skills. She was in her human form, not an ember to be seen, and still utterly unbeatable by a human. But by a Fae? With her magic, she’d be unstoppable. 

“Without her magic, in her human form, we could beat her. In her Fae form, again without magic, it would be hard to say. I don’t believe we have seen the true extent of her skills. And armed, with her power, it would be nearly impossible to get her into a position of no magic.”

Maeve’s face remained impassive, but her eyes betrayed a glimmer of interest. 

Fenrys spoke again, “Rowan and I will approach the queen today, to see if she would like an audience with you, majesty, or to see the trade advisor.”

The trade advisor, an older Fae noble, who Rowan would enjoy seeing go head-to-head with the Light-Bringer. 

Maeve nodded to Fenrys, a sign of acceptance, then dismissed them all.

-x-

On the streets of Doranelle, the sun beating down, Rowan looked to Fenrys, mentally cataloging the weapons he had on him. Hopefully, this meeting wouldn’t come to blows, but it didn’t help to be prepared.

Standing in front of the suite of rooms that would lead them to Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn took a breath, nodded to Fenrys, and knocked on the green-and-gold door.

Tags: @bookworm232020 @brandyovereager

Let me know if you would like to be tagged ;)

[pintofteaforthesoul]

Fenrys’s Mate OC, Nyssa

Not that anyone asked for it, but it’s an idea i’ve been bouncing around in my head for forever so here it is: Fenrys’s Mate- Nyssa. 

~~~

Rowan and Lyria’s child survived thanks to Maeve having the tribe that killed Lyria take her. (200 years prior to ToG)

Their daughters name is Nyssa.

She was raised by the tribemen until she was tent, keep under constant watch by the leader and being groomed to be his bride.

When she was 10, Maeve sent Lorcan and Gavriel to wipe out the tribe before Rowan would have a chance to- to keep Nyssa’s identity hidden.

Lorcan and Gavriel make quick work of the main tribe but it is Lorcan who discovers Nyssa- being held by the Tribe Leader with a knife to her throat.

Even then, Lorcan recognized the fire in Nyssa’s eyes and related it to Rowan.

Unbeknownst to the Tribe Leader, Nyssa carried a knife and stabbed him in the thigh with it. Free from his hold, she hunkered down while Lorcan made the killing shot.

With Rowan still away from Doranelle Gavriel and Lorcan brought Nyssa back to Maeve where she swore Lorcan and Gavriel to secrecy. She gave the task to Lorcan to train Nyssa into a warrior.

Maeve cast them from Doranelle on a “secret” mission and Nyssa grew up with Lorcan as her father.

Nyssa is the spitting image of Lyria except for her green eyes and keeps her dark hair short and curly. As a child she was small and grew up to be lithe but short. She has the barest of tipped Fae ears and smells of sweet grapes and fresh lavender (exactly like her mom). Nyssa has the ability to shift into a small calico house cat, something Maeve detests because its mostly useless in battle, and has more raw magic than any other Fae despite not knowing how to use it very well (Lorcan trained her as best he could but there were just some things he couldn’t teach).

Lorcan and Nyssa spent 30 years together before Lorcan was called back to deal with a war. While the Cadre were away for nearly a decade, Nyssa spent more time in Doranelle and became close with Connall despite his blood oath to Maeve and being forced to be her lover.

Connall believed Nyssa to be his mate and told Maeve, to which she laughed.

Nyssa believed she was to take the blood oath and finally meet her true father when they returned, but Maeve sent her on another task- her first one alone.

When Rowan returned to Doranelle, he could not figure out why Lyria’s scent was there and almost went off the rails again due to renewed grief. Those of the Cadre who knew about Nyssa and sworn to secrecy were bursting at the seams to tell him- all except Lorcan who views Nyssa as his own daughter.

Nyssa is gone for a few years but called back to Doranelle when an invasion becomes imminent. Maeve instructs her to only stay in her feline form as to not gain the notice of Rowan- with the off-hand promise that if she cooperates of her own free will for long enough, Maeve will grant her the blood oath and permission to meet Rowan.

To stop that invasion, Maeve sends Nyssa into enemy lines as a prostitute to seduce the leader of the army and slaughter him. In Maeve’s words, Nyssa does “magnificently”. This disgusts Lorcan, but he says nothing as he is still in love with Maeve.

Nyssa grows to hate Rowan, as Maeve tells her the whispers of what happened to Lyria and how it is all Rowan’s fault. She fully accepts that she never wants to meet him.

A couple decades pass as Nyssa acting as Maeve’s infiltrator, with no further mention of Nyssa swearing the blood oath, until the whisper comes that a powerful child will soon be born on Erilea (about 100 years before ToG).

Knowing the Cadre will be too suspicious, Maeve sends Nyssa- making her swear a blood promise to bring whatever child this is to her in Doranelle. Nyssa gladly accepts under the condition that should she return successful that she will be granted the blood oath. Maeve is begrudgingly vague and sends Nyssa off.

Nyssa travels to Erilea in search of this powerful child and finds utterly nothing, moving from kingdom to kingdom with little direction but mostly staying south.

During her travels, Nyssa meet Manon and they have a casual fling whenever they run across each other. Manon likes Nyssa’s stubborn and fiery spirit- and her tongue.

Fifty years into her task, Nyssa is ready to give up when she crosses the border into Terrasen. Some power tells her to remain, so Nyssa makes her way to capital where she meets Orlon.

Orlon guesses who she is and why she’s there, but is kind to her. Nyssa tells him of her story and her task to Maeve. Orlon knows it is inevitable and gives her a place in his court to wait.

Nyssa finds happiness like she has never known in Terrasen, but especially after Aelin is born. Orlon offers a blood promise to Nyssa of his own- to protect Aelin from any who should harm her. Nyssa takes it, eager to repay the kindness Orlon has showed her over the past 30 years in his court.

Nyssa takes her cat form in Aelin’s house and becomes known to the young princess as KitKat.

After the King of Adarlan’s visit and Aelin and her parents are forced back to their home outside of Orynth, Nyssa (as KitKat) is forgotten at the palace. She is not able to make it in time to save Aelin’s parents or the princess who finds herself in a river.

Nyssa vows to find Aelin again no matter what it takes, but she is trapped as KitKat after magic falls.

It takes 2 years for Nyssa to trace Aelin back to The Assassin’s Keep in Rifthold. Aelin, now Celaena, is adored at finding a calico cat that reminds her so much of KitKat. And thus names her “new cat” Snickers (not after the candy bar, but after the sound she thinks Nyssa makes)

Nyssa watches over Aelin as Snickers, never letting the girl out of her sight for long, until Celaena and Sam Cortland go to Skull’s Bay.

After the wrecking of the city, Nyssa is found by Rolfe who identifies her as Aelin’s beloved cat. Thinking to have something over the assassin, Rolfe keeps Nyssa- completely unaware of the Fae girl.

Nyssa, as Snickers, gains the favor of everyone in Skull’s Bay while trying to figure out a plan to escape. She soon learns that not long after Celaena left, she was sent off to Endovier.

Nyssa is distraught at the news, knowing she is useless in her current form and now stuck in Skull’s Bay.

Nyssa hears everything of Rolfe’s business, since he believes her to be just a cat. After hearing that Aelin is alive, she bides her time until the young Queen settles in one spot- set on returning to her side even in her useless feline form. When magic is once again released, Nyssa begins to formulate a plan as to how to reach Aelin.

Cut to the events of Empire of Storms. Nyssa is shocked when some of the Cadre appear in Skull’s Bay. Fearing the wrath of Maeve for breaking her blood promise to bring Aelin to her, Nyssa hides any way she can.

When Rowan appears, it takes all of Nyssa’s self-control to not reveal herself- still hating him for what happened to Lyria. But she knows that if Rowan is here then Aelin will follow.

Indeed after Aelin shows up, Nyssa bides her time for the best moment to reveal herself.

Unfortunately, Gavriel catches her scent and he and Fenrys track her down as a cat.

Fenrys, as a wolf, carries Nyssa, as a cat, in his mouth to where Aelin has set up shop in the inn. Fenrys drops Nyssa in a chair but she does not shift.

Aelin is delighted to see Snickers again, but Rowan stops her from approaching- his face twisting at Nyssa’s scent.

Rowan orders Nyssa to reveal herself while Fenrys and Gavriel take up their places at the door, Aedion off to the side. Aelin tells Rowan to shove it, not believing that her childhood pet could be a Fae in disguise but Rowan just has his eyes on Nyssa.

Nyssa shifts, not once looking at Rowan (whose breath catches when he sees her) and addresses Aelin.

Aelin is shocked, but not terribly surprised by the reveal- piecing together that Snickers and KitKat are one and the same.

After a little coaxing, Nyssa tells her story, barely flicking eyes to Rowan except when she describes being taken by the Tribesmen. Rowan grows paler over the course of the story. Fenrys, not having met Nyssa before now, calls out how poetic the moment is (since Gavriel had just found out about Aedion).

Aelin asks about the blood promise to Maeve, but Nyssa swears that it is gone because she already broke it and thus poses no threat. Rowan tries to talk to Nyssa, to which she replies nastily and flippant.

Taking advantage of being in human form again and that it’s late, Nyssa stalks off- taking Fenrys with her to both piss off her dad and to give her a place to sleep for the night.

Unbeknownst to them, Nyssa and Fenrys are mates. It’s why she and Connall had had such a close relationship but never took that next step.

Nyssa and Fenrys have a very loud night together. Rowan talks to Aelin about being horrified and she helps him through it.

Nyssa grows close to Lysandra and Aelin again, but not Aedion as she hates the way he treats Gavriel. Aedion calls her a hypocrite since he believes her to be acting the same towards Rowan. Nyssa tells him to fuck off and shouts that at least Aedion had gotten the chance to know his mother before she died.

Nyssa helps in the Battle at Skull’s Bay, delighting in the fact that Dorian also has raw magic. They learn off of one another.

When Manon appears in the sky, both Nyssa and Dorian are the ones to save her though Nyssa is reluctant to explain her relationship to the witch.

Nyssa, in feline form, guards Manon day and night while also discovering more of her relationship with Fenrys.

Nyssa and Rowan have a scene on the deck of the boat, where she screams at him for abandoning Lyria. It cause Rowan’s grief to surge and Nyssa chokes down the rest of her anger after realizing just how deeply Rowan cared for her and Lyria. Rowan vows that had he known of her existence he would’ve fought to the ends of the Earth to find her. Nyssa does not reveal that it was Lorcan who raised her despite Rowan’s repeatedly asking which member of the cadre it was.

When Manon wakes to full consciousness, she is relieved to find Nyssa there. At some point they have a small scene where they tease Fenrys who was on guard duty at the time by Manon pleasing Nyssa. Fenrys gets territorial and calls for a shift change, taking Nyssa back to his cabin to stake his claim on her. They still have no idea that they’re mates.

Despite knowing each other for nearly a century, Manon and Nyssa have no deep feelings for one another and Nyssa is not surprised when Manon takes a liking to Dorian. She jokes with Manon that it must be the raw magic Nyssa and Dorian have in common that makes them so irresistible. Manon brushes it off.

After that point, Nyssa is only with Fenrys.

When they trek into the stone marshes, Nyssa goes along. But when the ilken attack, Nyssa senses Lorcan’s presence and throws all of her magic into bolstering his shield.

When Lorcan appears, and Gavriel and Fenrys disappear, Nyssa tries to go for him. Much to Rowan’s horror, she addresses him as her father.

Fenrys and Gavriel attack and Nyssa is physically restrained by Aedion, much to her great displeasure and rage. Nyssa screams for Fenrys to stop. Elide gets hurt by Fenrys, Lorcan puts the shield over them both and the talking ensues.

When the battle resumes, Nyssa uses the last of her magic to blast Aedion back and races toward Lorcan. She jumps in front of Fenrys without fully knowing that he’ll stop before hurting his mate.

Lorcan rages at Nyssa to get away, which prompts Rowan to step in and declare Lorcan and Elide under Aelin’s protection.

Lorcan greets Nyssa by grabbing her hair and growling that if she ever tries that again, he’ll kill her himself. Nyssa nearly cries with relief and Lorcan embraces her tightly. Rowan addresses Lorcan stiffly and they all make their way back to shore.

Before they move, Nyssa draws her blade to Aedion’s neck and threatens that if he ever holds her back again that he’s dead.

Nyssa joyfully fills Lorcan and Elide in on her adventures, already reading the mating bond between Lorcan and Elide. She ignores Fenrys entirely. Elide loves Nyssa immediately.

Rowan and Lorcan have a discussion about Nyssa when they return to the boats, filling in the side of the story Nyssa could not. Rowan is displeased, but ultimately understands.

Fenrys tries to talk to Nyssa but she slaps him.

After the arrival of Maeve’s armada, Nyssa is one of the guards put on Elide. She accepts the order from Lorcan without question, vowing to protect the girl with her life.

When Maeve comes to take Elide, Nyssa manages to kill two of the guards before being grappled. Maeve is displeased to see her and Nyssa is horrified to see the Dark Queen in person again. Maeve simply states that they’ll have to talk later and calls Fenrys and Gavriel to her side.

Knowing it will be too late once they do, Nyssa makes an attempt to get to Elide. She slices the guard’s throat who has her and makes a running leap, but Fenrys appears and grapples her now. At the same time, Lorcan now has Elide. Maeve gives the order for them to all freeze and not run away.

Maeve reveals all about Aelin and Rowan and Nyssa cries in disbelief, now understanding that Maeve hadn’t sent her to Erilea because she was the least suspicious option but because Maeve delighted in knowing that Lyria’s daughter would be the one to protect Rowan’s true mate.

Nyssa attempts to fight out of Fenrys’s grip, to which Maeve instructs Fenrys to bite his mate- to claim her. Because of the blood vow, he does. Maeve tells Nyssa how disappointed she is and that they will discuss later about the punishment for breaking her promise. Maeve uses her darkness to render Nyssa unconscious, much to the horror of both Fenrys and Lorcan.

Nyssa is not conscious through Aelin’s lashings by Cairn and Fenrys is ordered to take her aboard the ship.

When they arrive back in Doranelle, Maeve has Nyssa beaten while she still has no magic- making both Connall and Fenrys watch.

Maeve delights in revealing that Fenrys and Nyssa are mates and Connall grows angry, still having believed that it was him. It’s another thing he holds against Fenrys.

Maeve ponders Nyssa’s usefulness as a tie between the twins and makes a show of deciding who Nyssa will be with. Nyssa is exhausted and broken, her wounds healing slowly.

Maeve reveals that this isn’t the full punishment for breaking the promise and Connall offers himself up to take the punishment in Nyssa’s stead.

Maeve merely laughs and states that she has a better idea. She uses the blood oath to make Fenrys hold Nyssa down while Connall carves into her back with his magic- the world Oathbreaker in the Old Language over and over again down Nyssa’s spine.  Both brothers are horrified, but have no other choice and the word is branded into Nyssa.

Only then, Maeve reveals that the punishment has been paid and gives Nyssa the chance again to swear fealty- finally offering her the blood oath because her Cadre’s numbers have dwindled with the loss of both Gavriel and Lorcan. She also tells Nyssa that should she accept, Nyssa will have the choice of whose bed she will take- Connall or Fenrys.

Nyssa, seeing no other choice, takes the blood oath to Maeve, but uses the last remnant of her magic to burn the blood away before it can enter her system.

Going back on her word, Maeve uses her magic to twist Nyssa’s mind- making her believe Connall to be her true mate despite the blood oath. When Maeve then offers up the choice between them and Nyssa chooses Connall. Fenrys is practically a statue at this point. Maeve then orders the couple to make love every dusk and every dawn, the blood oath taking effect on Connall but Nyssa knows if she is to refuse then she would reveal what she’d done.

Maeve then considers how entertaining it would be to make Fenrys watch the couple, but reconsiders and orders him to stay in wolf form to watch over their new “guest”.

>to be continued after I read more of KoA<

[babinforaelin]

Rowaelin Fanfic, Modern AU, But She’s Looking at You, Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 

 Maeve owns the best club in the city, but when Aelin shows up demanding answers from her Aunt, she is forced into one month of working as a DJ in her Aunt’s club in exchange for information. Along the way she meets Rowan and the rest of the cadre, who are working as bartenders in the club… and Rowan is given the task of babysitting Aelin for the month.

 Here she is!! The final instalment of But She’s Looking at You! I Just wanted to say thank you to all the beautiful messages you guys send me, because they honestly keep me going. Since this was the first thing I’ve ever written, I wasn’t even expecting anyone to see it, let alone like it J So thank you from the bottom of my heart <3

Aelin smirked at Maeve, who was shaking with rage as she took in the blank CCTV screens behind her. Her plan had been unfolding perfectly until her Aunt brought Rowan in. He was still sitting in the bloodied chair, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Rowan slowly lift his head. He had been so horribly beaten that Aelin wasn’t even sure if he’d be okay, but at least he was awake.

Before she could inspect him further, Maeve spun around and snarled at her, eyes ablaze with pure loathing.

“As I was saying,” Aelin purred, “give me the information I need and let Rowan go. Then I’ll be on my way.”

Maeve’s nostrils flared with rage, and Aelin waited while her Aunt thought it over. Then her beautiful mouth broke into a sly smile.

“You’re bluffing, aren’t you dear?” she said slowly.

Without breaking her Aunt’s stare, Aelin pulled out a small gold lighter from the pocket of her jeans. She saw Rowan stiffen slightly, the movement so small it was almost undetectable. She knew that the pieces had fallen into place in his mind.

“No, dear Aunt, I’m not. You see, while you’ve been here listening to yourself talk, I’ve had someone leaking all of the gas lines around Doranelle, this room included. So if I so much as light a single flame in here.... well I think you know far too well what will happen.”

With each word Aelin spoke, Maeve’s smile morphed into a glower.

“If what you’re saying is true, then you and all the innocent people in this building would die. Burnt to death.”

Aelin didn’t let herself pause, “Big risk to take, isn’t it Maeve?”

Her Aunt didn’t reply as she glared around the room, at Lorcan and Gavriel still unconscious on the floor, at Rowan who was now staring back at his boss with undiluted hate. Aelin could see the wheels turning in her Aunt’s mind as Maeve weighed up her options thoroughly.

Eventually the black-haired woman breathed a frustrated sigh through her nose and lowered herself back into her chair, arms bracing on her desk.

“Fine. Let’s talk.”

 Rowan could hardly believe what he was hearing. Aelin had done it. She had called ‘check-mate’ in what seemed like a never-ending battle between her and Maeve. Aelin spared a glance at him then, probably checking that he was alive and nothing more. But as her stunning eyes met his, he was shocked at the pain that poured out of her. Was it pain for his injuries, or simply because she had been the cause? He didn’t know, and he wasn’t able to consider it before Maeve started once again.

“What do you need to know?” she ground out.

“I want the money, Maeve.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

Aelin paused for a moment, considering something, before starting again.

“The money that was rightfully left to me after my parents were killed, probably by you. Or did you think I would be too stupid to work out who had taken it?”

Rowan froze. She had never told him that she thought Maeve was behind her parent’s death. Hadn’t even hinted to it.

Maeve crossed her slender hands under her chin and rested on the desk.

“What proof do you have that I had anything to do with either ... unfortunate event?”

Aelin simply threw the lighter into the air before catching it, over and over again, considering her words. It was the same lighter that she had bought with him. His breath had caught in his throat when he first saw it, not only because it had been a slap in the face to remember a time when he was actually happy, but because it suddenly occurred to him how long Aelin had been planning this. For weeks, months even.

Aelin caught the lighter and stilled.

“Who else would have been in a position to gain anything from it? You were my only remaining blood relative who was also old enough to be my guardian. In terms of the money... you’ve always been rich, but I’m sure you wouldn’t waste any of your own precious funds on building a five-storey night club.”

Maeve’s mouth twisted into a small smile.

“I just can’t help but wonder why you never went to a lawyer about these idea’s of yours?”

Rowan realised that Maeve was choosing her words carefully, making sure that she didn’t admit to anything.

“Because,” Aelin growled, “you know full well that the lifestyle you shoved me into would make me a target for the police. Pit fights aren’t exactly legal in Adarlan.”

Maeve had left her to live that life? So that Aelin would never be able to exact justice? Rowan bristled.

“What do you want me to do, sweet Aelin? Write you a cheque for thirty milion dollars? I doubt the bank would let that slide past them easily.”

Holy God... Aelin’s parents must have been incredibly important for her inheritance to be such a massive sum. It was no wonder Maeve wanted steal it from her. He thought he had worked Aelin out, but he was so wrong. Who was she?

 Aelin merely smiled.

“No no, I’ve already taken most the money out out over the past few months.”

Maeve stilled.

“The business partner you’ve been working with recently? Mr. Archer Flynn? Let’s just say that he ran into some trouble shortly after your first meeting with him and ... well it wasn’t hard to fake his movements around Rifthold, or to flash his money around town to make your spies believe he was a serious contender for an investment in your business endeavours. It’s a shame your lackeys never thought to wait and see him without his hoodie on... maybe then you would have realised it was all a ploy. Especially since his body is currently rotting in Riftholds sewers.”

Maeve was shaking now, the rage so strong she could barely keep it contained.

“So I have been sending you letter and emails for months, urging you to send me the money to build our casino in Rifthold, and you stupidly did. So oblivious to the fact you were being used, since you cannot fathom the possibility of falling from this pedestal you sit on.

“The last of the money I was hoping you could give to me in cash. It’s only about five thousand I believe, and if my snooping serves me correctly then the safe behind that ugly painting contains approximately ten-grand.”

Maeve’s face was red now, nails digging into the desk.

“You little bitch,” she seethed.

“Takes one to know one.”

Rowan couldn’t help but breathe a laugh. At her retort, and the entire situation. Both women whipped their heads around to look at him. Aelin gave him a grin that lit up her eyes.

“As for Rowan, I’ve already had the system wiped of the digital copy of his contract. So if you could do me a favour and fetch the original hard copy, that would be brilliant, and since it’s no doubt in the safe then you can grab the money while you’re at it.”

  Aelin watched as Maeve slowly rose from her chair and stepped around it. Heels clicking against the dark floor, Maeve walked to large the painting of Medusa’s severed head. She slid the painting across the wall, attached to tracking that was hidden behind its obnoxious frame, revealing the small safe.

“I’m on a tight schedule. I’d appreciate it if you could hurry it up, dear Aunt.” She taunted, only because she wasn’t sure how much longer Rowan would stay conscious for.

Maeve snarled, but punched in the numbers and opened the door with a loud ‘click’.

She reached a hand in, the sound of papers shuffling filling the room.

Then, fast as an asp, she spun to face them. An arm extended as she clasped a handgun in her delicate fingers, the barrel pointed directly at Aelin.

 “Perhaps next time you should follow me to the safe.”

Aelin felt her body go stiff at the sight of the gun. She heard a chair scrape against the floor on the other side of the room, followed by grunts as Rowan heaved himself up.

“No. Maeve, don’t hurt her,” he ground out. Aelin didn’t have to look to know blood was still leaking from his mouth.

Maeve pursed her lips at him as her eyes flicked to his stumbling form.

“How noble of you, trying to save her,” she purred. “Haven’t you realised by now that you were nothing but a pawn in her game? You’re worthless to her. Why on earth would she ever love you? A washed-up nobody with a-“

“Rowan, don’t listen to her. I don’t think that. I would never think that.” Aelin said, praying that he could hear the emotion in her voice.

Maeve simply cocked the gun, and although she said nothing, the threat rang loud and clear. One more stray word from Aelin, and she would find herself with a bullet between her eyes.

It was enough to make Rowan stop his slow shuffle across the room. Aelin could feel him a few feet behind her, somewhere to her right.

Her Aunt took a few taunting steps closer, though still too far out of reach. If only Aelin could get the gun off her...

“Rowan stays with me,” Maeve growled, “and I want my money back now.”

Aelin snarled, unable to stop the sound from leaving her throat.

“Go to hell,” she growled at her Aunt.

Maeve stared at her for a long moment, eyes narrowed. Then, before Aelin could blink, she moved her arm to her right and fired the gun.

Directly at Rowan.

  Lysandra gasped as she watched Rowan crumble to the floor, clutching his stomach. Aelin screamed silently, the emotion on her face evident even through the laptop screen.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” Dorian swore from beside her.

Blood was already pouring out Rowan’s stomach and pooling around his body. This definitely wasn’t a part of the plan.

Her eyes were planted firmly on her friend, waiting for the signal to send in Aedion and Manon. Aelin had given her firm instructions the night before.

‘Dont, under any circumstance, send them in until I give the signal.’

“Come on Aelin,” Lysandra whispered to the screen. Just give the sign... any second now she would – there. Both Dorian and Lysandra saw Aelin’s hand reach behind her back and make the signal – a tightened fist that then burst open, fingers extending.

Only a second passed before Lysandra called Aedion. He picked up instantly.

“Time to go?” he asked, hushed.

“Get in there now. Maeve pulled out a gun and shot Rowan. Aelin is next. Go, go, go,” she said as quickly as she could.

Aedion hung up, and Lysandra watched as he and Manon ran across the rooftop of Doranelle, then slid down the ropes they had set up earlier and slammed feet-first through Maeve’s office window.

 Aelin couldn’t hold back the sobs as she turned to run toward Rowan, but Maeve stopped her with a simple, “ah-ah-ahh.”

Maeve gestured with the gun and Aelin turned back around to face her, tears dripping off her chin.

“I suppose a gas leak would have killed us all. Next time, don’t bluff yourself through a situation, dear.”

Off to her left she could hear Lorcan and Gavriel start to get up, lifted from unconsciousness by the sound of the gunshot.

“Shit,” Gavriel said in horror as he took in his friends bleeding form.

Maeve held out a hand to stop them from walking any further. Then fixed her attention solely on her niece.

“You have been a thorn in my side since the day you were born.” She took leisurely steps toward Rowan as she did so. Aelin didn’t turn to watch her.

“I thought I’d gotten rid of you when I threw you onto the streets of Rifthold, hoped at best you would be scooped up by a brothel madam. You were young enough when your parents died that I hoped it would all appear like a bad dream to you.”

She was directly behind Aelin now, standing beside Rowan, his grunts the only noise in the room as he tried to stunt his bleeding.

“Now,” her Aunt continued, “I’m going to pluck this sweet rose. Unfortunately for you, I don’t need you breathing to retrieve my money. It’s truly a shame you didn’t just stay out of my way, dear child. Maybe then you would have lived.”

Aelin heard Maeve cock the gun another time, and take her aim.  Slowly, Aelin turned to face her Aunt, who’s red lips parted in a serpentine smile as she watched her niece accept death.

Rowan lay next to Maeve’s feet, blood pooling against the dark floor. So much blood that Aelin couldn’t comprehend how he was still conscious. He should be dead, she realised with a shudder. This was her fault. All of it was her fault. If she was going to die, then she would tell him the truth.

“Rowan,” she said softly. His eyes lifted to meet hers. The vibrant green had dulled as if the life had drained out of him. She continued.

“You mean more to me than you will ever realise. You were the first person in my life that understood me, and didn’t judge me for it. You showed me that there was more to life than I had ever thought possible. Even though I only knew you for a month, I felt like I had known you my entire life, and.... I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I got you dragged into this, because Maeve knew how I felt. She knew I.... She knew I loved you. For as long as I live, I will be sorry. Perhaps even after that.”

Rowan was motionless, green eyes shining as he realised what she said. She had said it. For once in her life she had told someone the truth.

Maeve tilted her head as she looked between Aelin and Rowan.

“How sweet.”

She slid her finger against the trigger and began to pull.

Aelin closed her eyes.

  The pain in Rowan’s abdomen was unlike anything he could imagine. He had been shot before, mostly during his time in the police force, but nothing this serious. His blood had now soaked through his clothes, his hair, but it still poured out of him.

With each second that passed he felt his life drip away. He had his hand pressed to hard against the wound that his fingers were going numb. Or perhaps that was the blood loss.

But all of that pain and worry had eased when Aelin spoke to him. When she said those words. ‘I love you.'

For a brief moment Rowan had been transported back, to a time when Aelin was curled up against him while he played with her hair, her forehead pressed to his chest as they lay on her bed. She had looked up at him then, her eyes soft as she pressed a kiss to his pectoral. The motion so gentle that his heart had skipped a beat.

Rowan realised in that moment that Aelin had been in love with him. Not only that, but she had been for a long while.

As the memory faded, and Maeve muttered some words, Rowan gathered the last of his strength. He would do this. If it was the last thing he did, he would do this for Aelin. Because he loved her.

Maeve’s finger moved to pull the trigger, and Rowan kicked his leg out. Smacking Maeve in ankles so hard that she fell backwards. The shot rang out, and the bullet lodged itself in the ceiling.

Aelin was already running for them, refusing to miss a chance, just as he had hoped. But she didn’t move to get the gun off her Aunt. She came for him.

But the motion he made had torn the wound even further, and Rowan could feel himself flickering. Unconsciousness swept in for a few moments, but Aelin slapped him hard enough that his eyes sprung open once again.

“Stay with me Rowan. Stay with me.”

A heartbeat passed, when Rowan heard the sound of glass smashing. Behind Aelin’s shoulder Aedion and Manon were quickly unclipping ropes from harnesses and moving to fight Gavriel and Lorcan.

Aelin used that moment of Maeve’s distraction to rise and slam a foot into her stomach. The gun flew out of her manicured hand and Aelin wasted to time in grabbing it and taking aim.

On the other side of the room, Manon had quickly taken Lorcan down and was now helping Aedion.

Rowan might have been imagining things thanks to the blood loss, but he swore he heard Gavriel whisper, “Son?” before Aedion delivered a round-house kick to his gut.

Aelin inched back until she was once again at Rowan’s side. Without taking her aim off Maeve, she reached down and slid her arm around Rowan, heaving him up. Aedion and Manon quickly ran over and took over. They walked him to the window but Rowan could do very little to help them support his weight. His wound was screaming.

He heard Aelin’s shoes scuff against the floor as she walked to the safe and grabbed everything she needed, gun still pointed at Maeve. Then, slow as a tiger watching it’s prey, she came over to the window and dropped the money in one of the backpacks Manon had brought.  Aedion was pressing Rowan’s hands against the rope, whispering instructions to him, “You just need to hold on for five seconds. That’s it. The car will be right there, and then we can get you sorted out.”

Rowan nodded, though it was an effort to do so.

Maeve growled from across the room, anger seeping out of her in waves.

Aelin held the gun and papers in her hand. Rowan’s contract, he realised.

She once again pulled out the gold lighter from her pocket and flicked it open.

“Rowan comes with me. The money is mine.”

She pressed the paper to the edge of the flame and the heat quickly began to eat away at the contract.

Aelin checked her watch briefly.

“Also, I wasn’t completely bluffing about the gas leak. I rigged it to start in approximately two minutes. So you can either stay here and burn, or get the hell out.”

Maeve’s eyes widened in shock, and then she narrowed them and snarled.

“I will find you again Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and when I do you will be dead before you even realise what is happening.”

Galathynius.... as in the royal family of Terrasen? Rowan was obviously losing his mind.

Aelin dropped the papers to the ground and checked her nails, bored.

“Sounds like a bucket of fun, Maeve. See you in hell.”

Rowan didn’t get to see what happened next because Aedion told him once again to hold one before he threw Rowan out the window. His palms burned as they slid against the rope, but he held on. The ground loomed closer and spots clouded his vision. Manon slid on the rope across from him, and when he reached the bottom she ran to help him to the back of the van. The doors opened and he saw Lysandra and Dorian waiting for him, ready with bandages and bottles of disinfectant.  Rowan vaguely recalled Aelin saying that Dorian was in his fourth year at med school, studying to be a surgeon. Lucky him.

Manon pushed Rowan into the back and he lay flat on his back. Dorian’s face loomed over him.

“Not going to lie, we were expecting Aelin to be in this position, not you.”

Rowan couldn’t imagine anything worse.

He felt the tentative hands of Lysandra prodding at his face, checking to see what had been broken.

 The next thing he knew, Aelin jumped in the back and started shouting. “IS HE ALRIGHT?” She crouched next to him, hands resting on either side of his face.

“Rowan! Are you okay? I’m so sorry.” She started sobbing. He lifted a hand to hers, caressing a thumb over her skin, which only made her cry harder. 

“I’m fine, Aelin. Thank you for saving me,” he whispered.

He was vaguely aware that the van was moving now.

“I love you, Buzzard,” she growled at him.

He chuckled at the nickname, despite everything that had just happened.

“I love you too, Fireheart.”

A large BOOM sounded from behind them then, making the very ground they were driving on begin to shake.

“Maeve’s office?” he guessed.

Aelin’s grin was her only reply.

                                                    Two months later

  Aelin’s cries of pleasure died down, though her heart was still racing. Rowan gently eased himself out of her, planting kisses along her collarbone as he did. They lay there for a few minutes, panting against one another, skin slick with sweat. Rowan moved his kisses to her neck, and she suddenly found it very hard to focus.

“You’re distracting me,” she said, breathless.

He nipped at her throat.

“You needed distracting.”

Aelin couldn’t argue with that. She had been finalising her plans to go after Arobynn with such an eye for detail that her head had started spinning. Rowan was good at knowing when she needed to be dragged out of her research. Hence how they had ended up like this – Aelin’s back pressed against the soft pillows of their bed as he ravaged her.

They had moved into her apartment in Rifthold and for the first time in her life, Aelin was truly happy. She knew Rowan felt the same.

His kisses moved lower, between her breasts, and it became hard to breathe.

 Aelin had always believed it fate. That tug that had led her to Wendlyn in search for her Aunt... Perhaps it had been meant to lead her to Rowan the entire time. She would never know.

But as Rowan pressed kisses against her abdomen, she decided it didn’t matter.

Fate or coincidence she didn’t care. Because all she knew was that she would be eternally grateful.

  The end.

[peixun-zuojia]

“Thanks for never letting go. No matter how hard I tried to run...”

Atop of the warehouse, sat two beautiful silhouettes that were fiercely woven with strength and pure animalistic silence. They sat next to one another, shoulder to shoulder, in comfortable silence as they watched another sunset across the sky’s canvas. A quiet breeze drifted through the stifling air, neither of them moved an inch. Not even a centimeter. They weren’t doing anything important. They weren’t fighting over plans or what the blonde female would be doing when the silver haired man was asleep. In her - their bed.

Aelin Ashryver-Galathynius. Queen of Terrasen. Fireheart. Carranam. Half Fae and half human. Fire-breathing bitch queen.

Her blonde locks had grown after weeks of coming back from Wendlyn, there was no more cheap dye at the tips like it was when the silver haired man next to her came to Rifthold for the first time. She was wearing a light grass green tunic that was lined with silver on the cuffs, collar, and the rim of the cloth. Her bottoms were a comforting black, fit and loose all at the same time. Her boots were nowhere in sight as they were in her apartment, she was sitting there, shoeless. Her legs crossed and her back slightly slouched in comfort of not being anything she wasn’t. Her eyes were a beautiful turquoise that had a ring of gold near her irises. The color had been passed down the Ashryver family and she was a match with her similarly handsome cousin. She was considerably thin, but better than when he had first met her. Her past occupation was behind her, she was no longer owned and trapped by Arobynn Hamel. The former King of Assassins, who was now dead and underground. Probably in hell.

Rowan Whitethorn. Fae Prince. Prince of Doranelle. Fae Warrior. Carranm. Full Fae. Hawk.

His silver hair was cut, no longer the length it was in Wendlyn. A shame, a pure shame. His green eyes were always as alluring as they were, striking and they sucked the oxygen out of her body. The sun seemed to have glowed against his tanned skin, it added the brush of emphasis of his muscles. His tunic was similar to his queen’s, except it was a dark pine green color and lined with silver. His pants were also similar to his queen’s except his was more of a warrior’s style than a civilian's. He was also shoeless, when they had entered the apartment and pulled on a change of clothes, they decided that seeing the sunset was better than being in a stuffy room with things to think about.

It was still silent between the queen and her carranam. There was nothing to brood over in the silence, but memories flitted through her mind like a movie. Memories of Wendlyn with the Fae next to her. The last moment in Doranelle, in Maeve’s throne room. She doubted anyone in that room would forget her existence. Forget what had happened. Rowan was held down by the twins of his cadre, his tunic was then ripped from his body by Lorcan and then his back was whipped by Gavriel, his queen’s uncle. Her body was trembling, eyes widened and her breath was unsteady. Ragged. Then, she bursted into flames - no, more like the kingdom had bursted into flames that day. Nothing burned under her fire, rather the only things that were affected by her flames were the edges of Maeve’s dress and the rivers evaporating.

He was more in awe with the girl - the woman - he had trained for mere months to become so beautiful in those moments. Secret thoughts that were only his. His heart had vigorously drummed in his chest in that single moment, nearly afraid what his aunt would do to the fire-bringer. His Fireheart. His carranam. His fear was all for naught. His Fireheart had stood up to Maeve, mocked her, taunted her, and nearly brought her to her knees. The Queen of Terrasen made the Queen of Doranelle tremble, beg for a simple ring, a ring from her former lover, and made her break the blood oath that connected her to him.

The girl he first started training had changed before his very eyes in the midst of everything. She had become a woman whom he respected and sought to protect with all his being. His animalistic instincts insisted on it to be true. When Maeve had released the blood oath, the pressuring bond between them, he had rushed to bring the woman into his arms. Whispering into her ears before going down on his knees and kissed her wrist, only to have her pull back in panic and shock. He had talked her into it and swore allegiance to her. Swore to her through a blood oath. They were then kicked out of Doranelle, to which they were pleased to know, and they left, nearly laughing in freedom.

The only proof she held from Wendlyn was not only her maturity, but the tattoo that outlined those three jagged scars on her back. She had asked Rowan to write down her story there, where the scars on her flesh gave slithering proof of her suffering. He obeyed and tattooed the sacrifices, the memory, and the silence onto her flesh in those ancient words. The same ancient lettering that significantly glazed against his left temple, down his face, against his neck, and down his arm. The same way the words on his skin told his story, she gave her own.

She let out a soft chuckle as the sky began to darken while the sun silently hid behind the mountains. Everything had been so tiring and she finally had a small bit of silence from all the suffocation. She finally had a moment to breathe with her carranam, with the confusing, territorial male fae. She glanced over at him to see that he was staring at her incredulously.

“What are you laughing about?” He asked, his deep, accented voice rumbled in his chest.

That pure, unnerving strength that took her breath away while it gave her that silent mercy of oxygen. “Nothing,” She sang.

His eyes narrowed, assessing her, observing her, and soon lightened. The shine in his eyes was a clear sign of relief, he found no harm or injury on her at all since everything had happened. “Are you remembering something?”

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing, the large warrior fae had his head tilted to the side as he questioned her. Curiosity filled his eyes and the innocence was enough to think he wasn’t even a warrior to begin with. She looked away and smiled widely, she could still feel his stare as he waited patiently for her answer.

“Yes.” She answered bluntly after clearing her throat.

“Of what?” He lightly pushed, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“The last moment in Maeve’s throne room, do you remember?” She asked, making conversation as she stared up towards the sky, the stars were out, but not as brightly as she wanted them to be. She missed the night sky when she was in Wendlyn.

He chuckled quietly to himself. “You mean when you bursted the whole place into flames?”

“I had a reason.” She exclaims, looking at the beautiful fae prince.

He nods with a smile, his eyes alight as he knew the reason behind her outburst that day. She got angry for him. His heart soared that day, it was broken, but it soared when he knew she cared for him. “Yes,” he said in a near whisper, “I know you did and you still do.”

She had straightened slightly at his gaze, his eyes had lit up a burning fire in her heart and soul. He was the only one that knew, knew her from the inside out. He knew the burden and pain she carried on her shoulders and without a doubt, he’d helped her back up as many times as it took. They both knew they would do it for each other, no matter the risk or the cost. That unfathomable trust that ran so deep within their veins welled up to the point of overflowing.

“I thank you for that, for having her release her hold on me. For giving me the freedom I never had until now,” he turned to her, his body straight and respectful as he bowed his head to her in the position he was in. “I thank you over a thousand stars.” He says, his voice nearly a whisper, nearly inaudible.

She kept silent, waiting for him to raise his head, waiting for him to look up and give her a smile. She rose up, her knees sat against the solid surface of the rooftop. She edged closer to him and soon had his face in the palms of her hands, she tilted his face up to look up at her, to gaze into her eyes as she gave him a wry smile. She shook her head and leaned her forehead against his, the warm touch and action caused him to suck in a breath. Her eyes were closed, her long lashes brushed against her cheeks. Beautiful. That’s what he thought as the peeking moonlight grazed her face in clear illumination.

“No, I should thank you.” She rasps out as she opens her heart to him once more. To still look strong and not weak.

“Why?”

She opened her eyes and looked into his green orbs, a smile painted on her face in the faintest way. “Thank you. For never letting me go.” She whispers. “No matter how hard I tried to run.”

He knew exactly what she was talking about. He’d been by her side in Wendlyn, she had ran and nearly died because of those damned skinwalkers. She nearly died, because of the realization of hers. She thought that training with him was a waste of time and couldn’t protect her friend, her precious friend who had died. She ran once - nearly twice. They had hurt each other with words that would salten up their wounds that were not healed. Wounds that would remain open, new and salted at recognition of what they had lost.

She ran to the lake, sat next to a looming tree that was her support as she cried. Gods, she was a beautiful woman, but was foul looking with a tear stained face, her nose running, eyes a deep shade of red, and her nose and cheeks were blotch like crimson tomatoes. He nearly grimaced when she had looked up at him, but then again, it was another side he saw of her. Vulnerable. Fragile. Special. He had pissed her off after she had saved Luca from near death of a one-eyed fish creature thing. The fight they had was quite a memorable one.

He let out a very protective and intimate growl, “No matter how hard or how far you run, I will always be there. Even if you don’t want me to, I’ll be there, waiting for you to come back. I’ll always be waiting.” He whispered as he placed his hands over her own.

He let out his inner feelings, but none of that mattered. Not when he had already let loose everything inside him. He had already revealed how he missed her so when she was aboard that wretched ship and took off, across the sea. Far away from his reach. He knew relief rushed through his veins when he actually came to Adarlan, he was finally going to see his queen. He was going to see the person he missed the most. Yet, when he got off that ship, his body was like lead, heavy, suffocating, and just damned impossible to work with.

He wasted days to rest, to piece himself back together. He wasted those days where he could’ve found her already and had her in his arms. Yet, the wait was worth it. He had found her scent, covered his own and followed it. He followed it and found her at a bar with two others, one was a human and the other was half fae. Just like his beautiful queen. He could hear her sob that she contained in her throat, the first step she took forward before she rushed to him, into his arms. Her weight would’ve pushed a regular human male onto his ass, but he stayed upright on his two feet. His arms cocooned around her and held her close to his chest. Into the space that was meant for her the moment they met again. The space was filled and he could breathe in her scent. The scent he had missed all those weeks, perhaps even a month had passed. While they were separated, he had felt irritated and impatient. He continued to wonder when she was to call for him.

He watched her tremble, her shoulders shaking as her body racked up with small sobs that she attempted to contain. His long arms reached for her, wrapped around her waist as he pulled her closer to his chest. She sat on his lap and trembled, quietly forcing herself to stop her wretched sobs. When she did stop, she sat there, in his lap and stared off into the night sky.

“The sky,” she murmured under her breath, “it’s dim and not pretty.”

“What does the sky look like in Terrasen?” He asked quietly, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“Just like Wendlyn. Vast, spacious, filled with stars.” She paused and leaned her head against his shoulder, “I want all of this to be over. I want it all to be over.”

He stayed quiet, listening to her clarification of her want. Her need. “I’ll be here when it all ends. I’ll be next to you when it does.”

She looked up, staring into those green orbs that lit fires in her core without her say so. “To whatever end.” She whispers in secret.

He smiled and whispered, “To whatever end.”

[acourtofquestions]

🚨 SPOILERS🚨

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 50

Rowan's hands tightened on Aelin's shoulders as the words settled into her, hollow and cold.

"Maeve is a Valg queen?" he breathed.

Aelin said nothing. Couldn't find the words. Her power roiled. She didn't feel it.

Nesryn nodded solemnly. "Yes. The kharankui told us the entire history."

And so Nesryn did as well. Of how Maeve had somehow found a way into this world, fleeing or bored with her husband, Orcus. Erawan's elder brother. Of how Erawan, Orcus, and Mantyx had torn apart worlds to find her, Orcus's missing wife, and only halted here because the Fae had risen to challenge them. Fae led by Maeve, whom the Valg kings did not know or recognize, in the form she had taken.

The life she had crafted for herself. The minds of all the Fae who had existed that she had ripped into, convincing them that there had been three queens, not two. Including the minds of Mab and Mora, the two sister-queens who had ruled Doranelle. Including Brannon himself.

"The spiders claimed," Nesryn went on, "that even Brannon didn't know. Even now, in the Afterworld, he doesn't know. That was how deep Maeve's powers went into his mind, into all their minds. She made herself their true queen."

The words, the truth, pelted Aelin, one after another.

Elide's face was white as death. "But she fears the healers." A nod toward Yrene. "She keeps that owl, you said—an enslaved Fae healer-should the Valg ever discover her." For that was the other piece of it. The other thing Nesryn had revealed, Chaol and Yrene adding in their own accounts. The Valg were parasites. And Yrene could cure their human hosts of them. Had done so for Princess Duva. And might be able to do with so many others enslaved with rings or collars. But what had infested Duva ... A Valg princess.

Aelin leaned back into her chair, her head resting against the solid wall of Rowan's body.

His hands shook against her shoulders. Shook as he seemed to realize what, exactly, had ripped into his mind. Where Maeve's power had come from that allowed her to do so. Why she remained deathless and ageless, and had outlasted any other. Why Maeve's power was darkness.

"It is also why she fears fire," Sartaq said, jerking his chin to Aelin. "Why she fears you so."

And why she'd wanted to break her. To be just like that enslaved healer bound in owl form at her side.

"I thought—I managed to cut her once," Aelin said at last. That quiet, ancient darkness pushed in, dragging her down, down, down-" I saw her blood flow black. Then it changed to red." She blew out a breath, pulling out of the darkness, the silence that wanted to devour her whole. Made herself straighten. Peer at Fenrys.

"You said that her blood tasted ordinary to you when you swore the oath." The white wolf shifted back into his Fae body. His bronze skin was ashen, his dark eyes swimming with dread. "It did."

Rowan growled, "It didn't taste any different to me, either."

"A glamour-like the form she maintains," Gavriel mused.

Nesryn nodded. "From what the spiders said, it seems entirely possible that she would be able to convince you that her blood looked and tasted like Fae blood."

Fenrys made a sound like he was going to be sick. Aelin was inclined to do the same.

And from far away—a memory-that-was-not-a-memory stirred. Of summer nights spent in a forest glen, Maeve instructing her. Telling her a story about a queen who walked between worlds.

Who had not been content in the realm in which she'd been born, and had found a way to leave it, using the lost knowledge of ancient wayfarers. World-walkers.

Maeve had told her. Perhaps a skewed, biased tale, but she'd told her. Why? Why do it at all? Some way to win her-or to make her hesitate, should it ever come to this?

"But Maeve hates the Valg kings," Elide said, and even from the silent, drifting place to which Aelin had gone, she could see the razor-sharp mind churning behind Elide's eyes. "She's hidden for this long. Surely she wouldn't ally with them."

"She ran at the chance to get hold of a Valg collar," Fenrys said darkly. "Seemed convinced that she could control the prince inside it."

Not only through Maeve's power, but because she was a demon queen.

Aelin forced herself to take another breath. Another. Her fingers curled, gripping an invisible weapon.

Lorcan had not uttered a word. Had done nothing but stand there, pale and silent. As if he'd stopped being in his body, too.

"We don't know her plans," Nesryn said.

"The kharankui have not seen her for millennia, and only hear whisperings carried by lesser spiders. But they still worship her, and wait for her return."

Chaol met Aelin's stare, his gaze questioning.

Aelin said quietly, "I was Maeve's prisoner for two months."

Utter silence in the tent. Then she explained—all of it. Why she was not in Terrasen, who now fought there, where Dorian and Manon had gone.

Aelin swallowed as she finished, leaning into Rowan's touch. "Maeve wished me to reveal the location of the two Wyrdkeys. Wanted me to hand them over, but I managed to get them away before she took me. To Doranelle. She wanted to break me to her will. To use me to conquer the world, I thought. But it perhaps now seems she wanted to use me as a shield against the Valg, to guard her always." The words tumbled out, heavy and sharp. "I was her captive until nearly a month ago." She nodded toward her court. "When I got free, they found me again."

Silence fell again, her new companions at a loss. She didn't blame them.

Then Hasar hissed, "We'll make the bitch pay for that, too, won't we?"

Aelin met the princess's dark stare. "Yes, we will."

A Valg queen.

That's who had held his Fireheart. What sort of power had tried to break into her mind.

What power had broken into Rowan's mind.

All their minds, if she could glamour her blood to look and taste ordinary.

He felt the tension rising in Aelin, a raging storm that nearly hummed into his hands as he gripped her shoulders.

Yet her flames made no appearance. They hadn't shown so much as an ember these weeks, despite how hard they'd trained. Occasionally, he'd spy Goldryn's ruby gleaming while she held it, as if fire glowed in the heart of the stone. But nothing more. Not even when they'd tangled in their bed on the ship, when his teeth had found that mark on her neck.

Elide surveyed them all, their silence, and said to their new companions, "Perhaps we should determine a plan of action regarding tomorrow's battle." And give them time, later tonight, to sort through this colossal mess.

Chaol nodded. "We brought a trunk of books with us," he said to Aelin. "From the Torre. They're all full of Wyrdmarks." Aelin didn't so much as blink, but Chaol finished, "If we get through this battle, they're yours to peruse. In case there's anything in them that might help." Against Erawan, against Maeve, against his mate's terrible fate. Aelin just vaguely nodded.

So Rowan forced himself to shove away the shock and disgust and fear, and focus upon the plan ahead. Only Gavriel seemed able to do the same, Fenrys staying where he was, and Lorcan just staring and staring at nothing.

Aelin remained in her chair, simmering.

Roiling.

They planned it quickly and efficiently: they would return with Chaol and Yrene to the keep, to help with the fighting tomorrow. The khaganate royals would push from here, Nesryn and Prince Sartaq leading the ruks, and Princess Hasar commanding the foot soldiers and Darghan cavalry. A brilliantly trained, lethal group. Rowan had already marked the Darghan soldiers, with their fine horses and armor, their spears and crested helmets, while they'd strode for this tent, and breathed a sigh of relief at their skill. Perhaps the last sigh of relief he'd have in this war. Certainly if the khagan's forces hadn't yet decided where they would take this army afterward. He supposed it was fair-so many territories were now in Morath's path-but when this battle was over, he'd make damn sure they marched northward. To Terrasen.

But tomorrow-tomorrow they'd hammer Morath's legion against the keep walls, Chaol and Rowan leading the men from inside, picking off enemy soldiers.

Aelin didn't volunteer to do anything. Didn't indicate that she'd heard them.

And when they'd all deemed the plan sound, along with a contingency plan should it go awry, Nesryn only said, "We'll find you ruks to carry you back to the keep," before Aelin stormed into the frigid night, Rowan barely keeping up with her.

No embers trailed her. Mud did not hiss beneath her boots.

There was no fire at all. Not a spark.

As if Maeve had snuffed out that flame.

Made her fear it.

Hate it.

Aelin cut through the neatly organized tents, past horses and their armored riders, past foot soldiers around campfires, past the ruk riders and their mighty birds, who filled him with such awe he had no words for it. All the way to the eastern edge of the camp and the plains that stretched past, the space wide and hollow after the closeness of the army.

She didn't stop until she reached a stream they'd crossed only hours ago. It was nearly frozen over, but a stomp of her boot had the ice cracking. Breaking free to reveal dark water kissed with silvery starlight.

Then she fell to her knees and drank.

Drank and drank, cupping the water to her mouth. It had to be cold enough to burn, but she kept at it until she braced her hands on her knees and said, "I can't do this."

Rowan sank to a knee, the shield he'd kept around her while she stalked here sealing out the cold wind off the open plain.

"I-I can't—" She took a shuddering breath, and covered her face with her wet hands.

Gently, Rowan gripped her wrists and lowered them. "You do not face this alone."

Anguish and terror filled those beautiful eyes, and his chest tightened to the point of pain as she said, "It was a fool's shot against Erawan. But against him and Maeve? She gathered an army to her. Is likely bringing that army to Terrasen right now. And if Erawan summons his two brothers, if the other kings return—"

"He needs the two other keys to do that. He doesn't have them."

Her fingers curled, digging into her palms hard enough that the tang of her blood filled the air. "I should have gone after the keys. Right away. Not come here. Not done this."

"It is Dorian's task now, not yours. He will not fail at it."

"It is my task, and always has been—"

"We made the choice to come here, and we will stick to that decision," he snarled, not bothering to temper his tone. "If Maeve is indeed bringing her army to Terrasen, then it only confirms that we were right to come here. That we must convince the khagan's forces to go northward after this. It is the only chance we stand of succeeding."

Aelin ran her hands through her hair.

Streams of blood stained the gold. "I cannot win against them. Against a Valg king and queen." Her voice turned to a rasp. "They have already won."

"They have not." And though Rowan hated each word, he growled, "And you survived two months against Maeve with no magic to protect you. Two months of a Valg queen trying to break into your head, Aelin. To break you."

Aelin shook. "She did, though." Rowan waited for it. Aelin whispered, "I wanted to die by the end, before she ever threatened me with the collar. And even now, I feel like someone has ripped me from myself. Like I'm at the bottom of the sea, and who I am, who I was, is far up at the surface, and I will never get back there again."

He didn't know what to say, what to do other than to gently pull her fingers from her palms.

"Did you buy the swagger, the arrogance?" she demanded, voice breaking. "Did the others? Because I've been trying to. I've been trying like hell to convince myself that it's real, reminding myself I only need to pretend to be how I was just long enough."

Long enough to forge the Lock and die.

He said softly, "I know, Aelin." He hadn't bought the winks and smirks for a heartbeat.

Aelin let out a sob that cracked something in him. "I can't feel me-myself anymore. It's like she snuffed it out. Ripped me from it. She, and Cairn, and everything they did to me." She gulped down air, and Rowan wrapped her in his arms and pulled her onto his lap. "I am so tired," she wept. "I am so, so tired, Rowan."

"I know." He stroked her hair. "I know." It was all there really was to say.

Rowan held her until her weeping eased and she lay still, nestled against his chest.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered

"You fight," he said simply. "We fight. Until we can't anymore. We fight."

She sat up, but remained on his lap, staring into his face with a rawness that destroyed him.

Rowan laid a hand on her chest, right over that burning heart. "Fireheart."

A challenge and a summons.

She placed her hand atop his, warm despite the frigid night. As if that fire had not yet gone out entirely. But she only gazed up at the stars.

To the Lord of the North, standing watch.

"We fight," she breathed.

Aelin found Fenrys by a quiet fire, gazing into the crackling flames.

She sat on the log beside him, raw and open and trembling, but … the salt of her tears had washed away some of it. Steadied her. Rowan had steadied her, and still did, as he kept watch from the shadows beyond the fire.

Fenrys lifted his head, his eyes as hollow as she knew hers had been.

"Whenever you need to talk about it," she said, her voice still hoarse, "I'm here."

Fenrys nodded, his mouth a tight line. "Thank you."

The camp was readying for their departure, but Aelin scooted closer, and sat beside him in silence for long minutes.

Two healers, marked only by the white bands around their biceps, hurried past, arms full of bandages. Aelin tensed. Focused on her breathing.

Fenrys marked her line of sight. "They were horrified, you know," he said quietly. "Every time she brought them in to … fix you."

The two healers vanished around a tent.

Aelin flexed her fingers, shaking the lightness from them. "It didn't stop them from doing it."

"They didn't have a choice."

She met his dark stare. Fenrys's mouth tightened. "No one would have left you in those states. No one."

Broken and bloody and burned—

She gripped Goldryn's hilt. Helpless.

"They defied her in their own way," Fenrys went on. "Sometimes, she'd order them to bring you back to consciousness. Often, they claimed they couldn't, that you'd fallen too deeply into oblivion. But I knew—I think Maeve did, too— that they put you there. For as long as possible. To buy you time."

She swallowed. "Did she punish them?"

"I don't know. It was never the same healers." Maeve likely had. Had likely ripped their minds apart for their defiance.

Aelin's grip tightened on the sword at her side.

Helpless. She had been helpless. As so many in this city, in Terrasen, in this continent, were helpless. Goldryn's hilt warmed in her hand.

She wouldn't be that way again. For whatever time she had left.

Gavriel padded up beside Rowan, took one look at the queen and Fenrys, and murmured, "Not the news we needed to hear."

Rowan closed his eyes for a heartbeat. "No, it was not."

Gavriel settled a hand on Rowan's shoulder.

"It changes nothing, in some ways."

"How."

"We served her. She was ... not what Aelin is. What a queen should be. We knew that long before we knew the truth. If Maeve wants to use what she is against us, to ally with Morath, then it changes things. But the past is over. Done with, Rowan. Knowing Maeve is Valg or just a wretched person doesn't change what happened."

"Knowing a Valg queen wants to enslave my mate, and nearly did so, changes a great deal."

"But we know what Maeve fears, why she fears it," Gavriel countered, his tawny eyes bright. "Fire, and the healers. If Maeve comes with that army of hers, we are not defenseless." It was true. Rowan could have cursed himself for not thinking of it already. Another question formed, though. "Her army," Rowan said. "It's made up of Fae."

"So was her armada," Gavriel said warily.

Rowan ran a hand through his hair. "Will you be able to live with it-fighting our own people?" Killing them.

"Will you?" Gavriel countered.

Rowan didn't answer.

Gavriel asked after a moment, "Why didn't Aelin offer me the blood oath?"

The male hadn't asked these weeks. And Rowan wasn't sure why Gavriel inquired now, but he gave him the truth. "Because she won't do it until Aedion has taken the oath first. To offer it to you before him ... she wants Aedion to take it first."

"In case he doesn't wish me to be near his kingdom."

"So that Aedion knows she placed his needs before her own."

Gavriel bowed his head. "I would say yes, if she offered."

"I know." Rowan clapped his oldest friend on the back. "She knows, too."

The Lion gazed northward. "Do you think ... we haven't heard any news from Terrasen."

"If it had fallen, if Aedion had fallen, we would know. People here would know."

Gavriel rubbed at his chest. "We've been to war. He's been to war. Fought on battlefields as a child, gods be damned." Rage flickered over Gavriel's face. Not at what Aedion had done, but what he'd been made to do by fate and misfortune. What Gavriel had not been there to prevent. "But I still dread every day that passes and we hear nothing. Dread every messenger we see."

A terror Rowan had never known, different from his fear for his mate, his queen. The fear of a father for his child.

He didn't allow himself to look toward Aelin. To remember his dreams while hunting for her. The family he'd seen. The family they'd make together.

"We must convince the khaganate royals to march northward when this battle is over," Gavriel swore softly.

Rowan nodded. "If we can smash this army tomorrow, and convince the royals that Terrasen is the only course of action, then we could indeed be heading north soon. You might be fighting at Aedion's side by Yulemas."

Gavriel's hands clenched at his sides, tattoos spreading over his knuckles. "If he will allow me that honor."

Rowan would make Aedion allow it. But he only said, "Gather Elide and Lorcan. The ruks are almost ready to depart."

[imaginedhaven]

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Eighteen

Link to Masterpost

Based on the pacing of events, it looks like my previous guess still holds: two more chapters and an epilogue remain.

Enjoy!

~*~*~

The next day, Rowan looked on with amusement as Aelin met with Lorcan. She had already spoken with Aedion, of course, and her cousin had spent an exceedingly long time venting his frustrations regarding the other demi-Fae.

He hadn’t mentioned his father at all, but Rowan had known it would be a bad idea to press him on the subject, especially in front of Aelin. He would talk about it when he was ready.

As Lorcan snarled wordlessly, Rowan turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. “See, it’s funny,” Aelin was saying, one finger touching her chin in a dramatic parody of thought. “If I recall correctly, the throne of Doranelle is matrilineal, is it not? Which means you can’t possibly be in charge here, and therefore would be unfit to cast judgment on me.”

Rowan bit back a laugh in favor of adopting an expression that he hoped looked suitably stern. Lorcan, on the other hand, had no such problems. “As you murdered our previous queen, you don’t get a say in how you are judged,” he snarled.

“The creature I destroyed was neither Fae nor your true queen.” Aelin was carefully inspecting the nails on her left hand. “You should be thanking me, really.”

It was exactly the wrong thing to say to Lorcan, though Aelin couldn’t have possibly known that. Perhaps it was time to intercede. “Aelin…”

Lorcan’s frosty glare became fixed on him instead. “Yes, Whitethorn, by all means get your bitch-queen in line.”

Rowan growled at his former commander, but Aelin only laughed. “Oh, I like that. But it’s missing something. Something… fiery.” As she said it she called one of her flames into existence, and it danced over her fingertips before she allowed it to vanish in a puff of smoke.

Most men would have missed the cold calculation in her gaze when she looked at Lorcan once more, a look borrowed straight from her persona as Celaena—or perhaps this was a part of herself she had been allowed and even encouraged to express as Celaena. Rowan recognized it, however, with a tightening in the pit of his stomach and a surge of arousal’s warmth.

Shit, it had been a bad idea to bed Aelin so soon before they would have to be reasonable and professional adults. He should have known, should have remembered that the usual Fae possessiveness immediately after taking a new lover was so much worse when it was your mate. What was usually three or so days of irritation at the presence of almost anyone else became absolutely unbearable when the union meant more.

Nothing had prepared him for anything about Aelin, however, so he supposed this should be no different.

When he finally remembered himself, Lorcan was staring at the hand that had commanded those flames with a blend of fear and anger. “You fire-breathing bitch,” he hissed.

Aelin smirked. “There it is. Fire-breathing bitch-queen. Rowan, we’ll have to write that down somewhere, add it to my list of titles or something.”

“I’m glad you’re so amused,” Rowan grumbled.

Rowan was not at all amused. It was bad enough that Lorcan was anywhere near Aelin right now. The fact that he was antagonizing her only made it worse. If this continued for much longer… well. He would just have to hope that it didn’t.

“Someone has to make up for you two. Is it a Fae thing, to be so utterly joyless? Or is it just the two of you?” She smiled at him, and the rest of the room faded away as he remembered the way she had smiled that very morning, the way she had laughed into the pillows and then moaned as he’d entered her from behind—

Shit. He had to focus, or they would never get out of this room and Lorcan would probably kill both of them before blinding himself. He wasn’t exactly known for forgiveness, or for restraint.

Thankfully, Aelin didn’t seem to require a response, for she was already speaking again. “Now. As the direct descendant of Mab, I’d like to officially renounce any claim I may have to your throne. But I can only do that in the presence of the descendant of Mora, who would rightfully inherit Maeve’s crown. She didn’t wear a crown, though, did she?”

“Why should I allow you to meet with her?” Lorcan asked, seething with barely-restrained anger. “You waltzed in here and murdered Maeve with little proof and no hesitation.”

“You weren’t actually present for that, were you?” she asked. “So you wouldn’t actually know what I did or did not do or say. Which means you’re speculating, which means you’re letting your own emotions get in the way of the truth.”

Rowan winced. Aelin truly had a knack for saying exactly the wrong thing; Lorcan’s devotion to his dark queen had been as fierce and passionate as any love, though it had been as dark and twisted as Maeve herself. Maeve, in turn, had taken delight in spurning him at every turn, but that hadn’t stopped Lorcan from wishing things had been different, or from taking on more and more daring and dubious tasks in some twisted attempt to prove himself to her.

As he’d expected, Lorcan snarled at that, baring his canines to her. What he had not expected, but should have, was the strength of his own reaction.

One of his blades found itself embedded in the table between them as a frosty wind began to blow through the room. “This ends now,” he growled as Lorcan threw up a shield made of his own dark power.

“Och, you’ll have to forgive Rowan for being such an overbearing buzzard,” Aelin said to Lorcan, though Rowan didn’t miss her affectionate gaze in his own direction. “Although I hear all Fae males are like that, so perhaps you’d understand better than I do.”

Lorcan, meanwhile, had turned his glare in Rowan’s direction. “Tell me, were you warming her bed while you were still sworn to Maeve, or did you take her before the dust had settled in that throne room?”

Before Rowan could do anything more than snarl in reply, a cocoon of fire melted through Lorcan’s shield. “I’ll have to ask you to leave Rowan out of this,” Aelin said, all amusement gone from her voice. “I’d say this is between you and me, but it truly isn’t. It’s between me and Mora’s heir, whoever that may be. I’ll give you a day to produce her.”

In the blink of an eye, the fire disappeared, and Aelin stalked out of the room. Rowan followed without a second glance at his former commander.

~*~*~

It turned out that Mora’s heir was one of Rowan’s many distant cousins, and Aelin immediately sent him out to find her. Not only did it give her the opportunity to talk to Aedion in relative peace, but it also meant that they would be able to return to Terrasen that much faster.

Aelin sighed. For all that Doranelle was a beautiful city, she missed the mountains and forests that she called home. It seemed Aedion did as well, for he had been all too eager to begin packing what little he had brought with him. She suspected there was more to it than simple longing to see his mate again, but if there was something that had gone wrong Aedion wasn’t talking about it.

Perhaps she would be able to wrangle the truth out of him on the journey home.

As she watched a white-tailed hawk and a golden eagle circle over the palace together she adjusted the leather of her jerkin, wishing once more that she had thought to bring some finer clothes. She would make do with what she had, of course, but meeting the next Queen of Doranelle in riding leathers seemed… incorrect, somehow. She could only hope Rowan’s cousin would understand.

Gods, and that was a whole other thing to be nervous about. This was the first of Rowan’s family she was to meet, and it was all because she had killed the previous queen. What a terrible way to introduce herself to her mate’s family. There was nothing to be done for it, though, except to hope that she would believe Aelin’s story with the evidence she could give.

As if he could sense that she needed the encouragement—and he probably could, given their bond—the hawk swooped down from the skies, landing as delicately as he could on her shoulder. She smiled as he began to run his beak through her carefully braided hair. “Och, you. Don’t you pull any of that out,” she muttered.

Rowan only clicked his beak and took off from her shoulder, shifting midair to land by her side. As their eyes met, beneath the lust that quickly rose to the surface she could see he was trying to reassure her. You’re worrying too much. You’ve made it this far.

Aelin took a deep breath, doing her best to calm her nerves. As she did, the eagle still circling above them landed across the courtyard from where she and Rowan stood, shifting into the form of a Fae female.

It was easy to tell from just a passing glance that she and Rowan were related, the long silver hair and pine-green eyes proclaiming their shared lineage. She stood about as tall as Aelin did, and while her smile was pleasant her eyes were calculating, taking Aelin’s measure just as Aelin was doing to her. She wore a simple pale dress, which Aelin noted with relief given her own lack of clothing options, and twin braids framed her face but the remainder of her long silvery hair was allowed to flow loosely down her back.

Rowan stepped forward then, linking his fingers with Aelin’s to pull her along as well. “Aelin, this is Sellene Whitethorn, my cousin and heir of Mora. Sellene, this is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, heir of Mab, crown princess of Terrasen… and my mate.” His tone turned wondering at the end, like he still couldn’t quite believe it, and at the sound she could’ve sworn her heart skipped a beat.

Sellene smiled at her then, gesturing toward a path. “Why don’t you walk with me? It would seem that we have much to discuss, given what Rowan has told me.”

“We do indeed. I must say I wish we had met under better circumstances.”

Sellene’s eyes glimmered with barely-concealed amusement. “From what I hear, you freed us all from a most despicable creature. I would think there could be no better circumstance.”

Aelin turned to stare at Rowan, who was looking innocently at a nearby tree. “So Rowan has already informed you of why he was sent to find you, then.”

“Of course he did,” she replied. “I was hardly going to leave my home with no explanation.”

“I suppose that’s fair. Truthfully, I’m grateful you’re willing to speak with me.”

“Rowan tells me I am to be the Fae Queen of the East now. I would like to begin by obtaining the truth of our previous queen’s death for myself, that I may fairly judge the situation.” Sellene approached her then, offering an arm which Aelin took. “There is a lovely pavilion near here, overlooking one of the many rivers that form our city. We can speak there without interruption.”

“That sounds wonderful. I haven’t had much opportunity to take in the views for which your city is famous during my stay,” she admitted.

“Of course you haven’t. It seems my cousin has been keeping you busy,” Sellene grinned, eyes knowing.

Aelin fought valiantly against the blush that was rising in her cheeks, and only partially succeeded. “I—”

“We all understand what it is like to be newly mated, Aelin. You need not fear judgment from me,” the older female interrupted. “Now, come. Let us decide our futures together, as our ancestors the Sister-Queens once did.”

Aelin nodded her agreement, and together they began to walk along the path, Rowan following close behind until Sellene twisted her fingers and a shield of hard air appeared at their backs. “My dear cousin, I’m afraid I must ask you to part from your mate for a little while. She will return to you shortly.”

Rather than simply leave, Rowan looked to Aelin. Before he could ask her for instructions, though, she waved him off. “Go on, buzzard. Shoo. I’ll meet you back at your rooms.”

Rowan shook his head before shifting and taking flight, flying so close to Aelin’s head that she ducked and laughed before entering the palace through a window.

Sellene smiled as she looked on, before once more leading Aelin down the path on which they were standing. “Now, tell me everything,” she demanded, and Aelin began to speak.

~*~*~

Lorcan was already waiting for Rowan when he re-entered the palace, and he bit back a grimace when he noticed the other warrior’s presence. “She’s with Sellene now. They stopped me from following before they could say anything substantial.”

Lorcan growled. “And you listened to them?”

“I bound myself to Aelin with a blood oath,” Rowan retorted. “I cannot disobey, as you well know.” It wasn’t strictly true for this specific situation; Aelin had not made her request a true command under the oath, and he had felt no compulsion. Lorcan didn’t need to know that, however.

“Speaking of your decisions regarding her,” Lorcan began with a sneer. Rowan couldn’t restrain the snarl that left him in response, even if he had bothered to try. However, that didn’t halt his former companion. “Did you come here intending to betray Maeve, or was that simply an additional perk for you?”

“Aelin told me nothing of her plans, knowing I would be compelled to stop her if I knew. I followed because of Maeve’s orders to remain close in proximity to Aelin, and because I believed a meeting between the two of them was a terrible risk.”

Lorcan scowled, glancing out over the grounds as if he would be able to hear them if he could only find them. “So you followed this girl while she came to murder our queen. And then you swore yourself to her. Now you’re bedding her, and allowing her access to our future queen completely alone. When are you going to come to your senses?”

“I began to come to my senses when I learned Aelin and I were carranam,” he snapped, “and when I realized that was something Maeve would never allow, given her unique brand of cruelty. Even if you discount the fact that she wasn’t Fae—”

“Which we cannot prove,” Lorcan hissed.

Rowan growled. “Even if you choose not to see that, you must see that she had much to answer for. We may have all chosen her oath, but many of us had little other choice. Unless you were going to have a better life than most of the demi-Fae who were allowed into the city, Maeve’s oath was your best chance to prove yourself. We all know how she entrapped the Moonbeam twins. Gods know why Gavriel or Vaughan swore the oath.”

“And you think your new tyrant will be so much better?”

“Aelin has never once forced a command on me,” he admitted. “And her oath… it feels different. Warm. Like a gentle tug rather than claws raking down the base of my skull.”

Lorcan scoffed. “Romantic foolishness.”

“Perhaps.”

Lorcan scowled, glancing out of the window once more. “She could be doing anything right now. I don’t like it.”

“She said she would be formally renouncing any claim she may have to Maeve’s throne, granting Sellene uncontested rights as Mora’s heir. We don’t have any reason to doubt that.”

“Speak for yourself. I have every reason to doubt that.”

A sudden thought struck Rowan. “Tell me, do you intend to swear yourself to Sellene if she asks?”

Lorcan turned to face him again. “Do you think she will?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I know she didn’t approve of the way Maeve used the oath, but I don’t know if that means she’ll abandon the practice altogether.”

His former companion sighed. “There’s too much we don’t know about this. None of us expected Maeve to require an heir. Sellene is completely untrained.”

“Not completely untrained,” Rowan countered. “Unseasoned, yes. She could use sound advice as she settles into her duties.”

“And you think we are the ones who can give her that,” Lorcan frowned.

“Who better? We had a… unique insight into the way Maeve ran Doranelle. You and the others can provide stability as we navigate this change.”

“And what of you?”

Rowan smiled. “I doubt Sellene will want me to linger for long, bound to another queen as I am. I suppose I’ll be going back to Terrasen before long.”

A swirl of ice around a twisting flame startled them both into looking out of the window once more, Lorcan growling at the sight. “I told you she couldn’t be trusted!”

“They’re not fighting,” Rowan said distantly. “Can’t you feel it in the magic? It’s… playful.”

Lorcan stared at him as though he had grown a second head. “Magic is magic. I thought you were better than that.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Rowan frowned. It was certainly not something he would’ve thought or said before…

Before the bond.

“It’s the bond,” he realized. “I wasn’t feeling their magic, but Aelin’s intentions.”

Lorcan sniffed. “Even more foolish and less provable.”

The swirling ice and flame exploded into embers that danced with snow in a dazzling display, and Rowan smiled. “That is not how offensive magic behaves. They’re testing each other, perhaps. But they’re not attempting any harm.”

Soon enough, the two future queens proved Rowan’s point for him by reappearing once more along the path they had taken. They were laughing together, and Sellene had crowned Aelin in ice while flames danced around Sellene’s head. “See? They both seem unharmed,” he pointed out.

Lorcan glanced down at them and then sneered. “So your bitch-queen has ensnared yet another Whitethorn—”

Rowan had had quite enough of Lorcan talking that way about Aelin, and before he could fully realize what he was doing a band of ice was pinning Lorcan to the nearest wall. “Do not speak of her that way in front of me,” he snarled. “You don’t have to like her. Beyond the next several days, it’s doubtful you will have to even see her again.”

Lorcan’s own dark power emerged, and the ice shattered. “Don’t condescend to me when you bound yourself to her.”

“And given the choice, I would choose her every time,” he snapped. “You are not required to approve of it, and I know far better than to ask for your blessing. But I will not tolerate you speaking that way about her.”

Rowan didn’t give Lorcan any further chance to reply. Instead, he shifted and flew out of the window, darting back into the palace closer to his rooms. After all, Aelin had said she would meet him there, and as far as he was concerned they still had several days’ worth of celebrating their newfound freedom from Maeve to catch up on.

~*~*~

Sellene’s coronation as Fae Queen of the East was a simple affair, and a few short days later she personally escorted them to the nearest port city. While Maeve had never left the city of Doranelle, Sellene felt it was important to get to know the Fae she now ruled over, and had told Aelin that this would be only the first stop on a tour through the lands.

Finally they reached the sea, and Aelin took a moment to watch the sunlight glimmer on the waves.

“You wouldn’t be hesitating now, would you? We’re finally on our way home.” Aedion’s eyes were fixed on the ship that awaited them when she turned to look at him.

“I know we are,” Aelin replied. “But there’s one more thing I need to do before we can leave, cousin.”

“And you’re only just now telling me this?”

“Yes,” she said with a pointed glance in the direction of a certain white-tailed hawk circling above them.

Rowan had spent most of the days traveling in flight with his cousin, a hawk and an eagle ever scouting ahead, screeching to each other with the joy that must come with soaring on the breeze. In the evenings he returned to her side, holding her as though he never wished to let her go and kissing her as though she was his entire world.

On a small handful of nights they had crept away from the camps and joined together again, and Aelin still felt a small thrill simply from thinking about every soft noise she’d pulled from his lips. It had been a risk, certainly, to press him against a tree and sink to her knees before him, and the entire time she’d worried just a little about getting caught. But his reactions had been so very worth all of the risk.

All of that joy they had found in each other over the past few days would only make this next step harder, however.

They made their way down to the docks, and Aelin turned to face Sellene once more. “Thank you for your hospitality these past days,” she said.

Sellene smiled. “The world is to have two Sister-Queens once more. I would prefer that we remain on good terms, and that together we may rule over the Fae as one. As our ancestors did before us.”

“I would like that,” Aelin agreed.

“Once you are crowned, Doranelle will recognize you as the Faerie Queen of the West, overseeing the Fae of Erilea as we rule the Fae of this continent,” Sellene declared, green eyes gleaming with determination. “Write to me when you are approved, and I’ll ensure it is done as quickly as we can.”

“I will,” she promised.

Rowan landed beside her and shifted then, his arm finding its way around her waist as it so often did. Sellene smiled at the two of them. “Are you ready?”

Aelin nodded her reply. “It will be as we discussed. Rowan?”

He turned to face her in confusion, and with a twinge of regret she reached into herself for the oath that tethered him to her, giving it a gentle tug. “You are to remain here with Sellene,” she said, watching his eyes widen in surprise. “She needs assistance with ensuring a smooth transition of power, and you will be invaluable to her for that purpose. When she deems your tasks to be done, then you may return to me.”

Anger flared in his eyes, then. “Did it not occur to you to ask me?”

Aelin smiled, though there was no joy in it. “Would you have accepted it as necessary to be parted from me, even just for a few weeks?”

Rowan’s scowl told her he knew perfectly well she was correct, but that he was upset with her regardless. “Is it necessary?”

“I’m afraid it is. Without you it will take months rather than weeks for Sellene to assume her throne. I cannot spare even a few more weeks. You know I’ve been away from Terrasen too long. Besides, there is something there that I must do without your presence.”

And what is it that you cannot possibly do in my presence? his eyes demanded.

I must meet with the lords of Terrasen.

Pine-green eyes suddenly widened with understanding. “You’re going back for your crown.”

“I am,” she replied.

Rowan finally nodded. I wish you had told me sooner. I understand why you’re doing this alone, but I would have liked to bid you farewell properly.

Aelin bit her lip. Had I given you advance warning, you would have convinced me to allow you to return to Terrasen with me.

I would certainly have tried. I doubt I would have met with success.

I am honored by your impression of my determination, but I assure you I would have been sorely tempted. Especially if your argument had consisted of your face between my thighs.

Rowan spluttered then, ears turning pink, and Aelin grinned.

“Disgusting,” Aedion chuckled in the distance.

“You’ll be just as bad as soon as we get home, if not worse, cousin,” Aelin retorted, her eyes never leaving Rowan’s.

Finally, he pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her brow. Before she could do more than reach to wrap her arms around him as well, he was already gone, shifting and flying in a circle around them. He landed on her shoulder briefly, brushing her cheek with the tip of his wing, before screeching and flying off, his cousin shifting to join him.

Aelin winced. It appeared he hadn’t quite forgiven her yet, if he was willing to screech at full volume directly into her ear. She hoped that she would be able to make it up to him soon.

Aedion laughed. “You really do have a knack for irritating those around you.”

“It’s my greatest charm,” she grinned, though her gaze stayed fixed on the hawk flying beside a golden eagle until they disappeared from view. “Now, let’s go home.”

And as she and her cousin turned to the ship that would bear them across the sea, Aelin took a deep breath and began to walk forward.

She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and she had a crown to win. She would not be afraid.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer

[imaginedhaven]

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Ten

Link to Masterpost

This is the point in my outline where the story really starts to pick up. We’ve almost definitely reached the halfway point in terms of points I want to hit, and we’ll see if that corresponds to being halfway through actually writing as well lol.

But without further ado...

~*~*~

Aelin let out a dramatic sigh as she studied Captain Westfall’s face. “I don’t suppose there’s any convincing you that I simply have one of those faces, is there?”

“I saw you with my own eyes, Your Highness. There is not.”

“Very well,” Aelin replied. She leaned forward, inviting Captain Westfall closer into the room. “I do hope that what I’m about you can stay between us. It could be messy, and I don’t wish to implicate Dorian in any of this.”

“That’s why I came,” he said. “My duty in all of this is to protect the crown prince, and I need to know he’s not under threat from your… antics.”

“He’s not,” she declared. “It’s all rather embarrassing, actually. I fear one of my own countrymen has relocated to Rifthold and is beginning to cause trouble for you. He is an assassin and a trainer of assassins, loyal to no crown but that which is stamped on the coin he makes, and I fear he has overstepped his bounds. You may not be familiar with the name Arobynn Hamel, if your duties are mostly limited to the palace.”

Captain Westfall’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not a name with which I am familiar, no,” he admitted.

“My intelligence suggests that he owns a substantial interest in the Vaults,” Aelin revealed. “By making an appearance there under an assumed name, I hoped to attract his attention so that I could deal with him quietly, before he becomes a problem for Adarlan.”

“Is there a reason that I should believe you?” he asked.

Aelin grinned. “Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to believe me without evidence,” she purred as she reached for one of her bags and pulled out a few papers. “Here you will find copies of directives in his own hand that my agents in Orynth intercepted, as well as correspondence concerning his interest in the Vaults.” Of course, the agent had been Aelin herself, but Captain Westfall didn’t need to know how personal this was for her.

The captain reached for the papers, but Aelin held them up with a teasing grin. “Before I give these to you, I would like your word that this remains as quiet as possible. If Arobynn learns that there is a larger investigation I fear we’ll lose his trail. I’ve already lost him once.”

Aelin hid a wince at that last revelation. That was too much, too personal, and of course the captain noticed the slip immediately. “What is a crown princess doing trailing an assassin herself? Surely you have others to handle that.”

“Precious few I can trust, after an incident two years ago,” she replied, and she breathed an internal sigh of relief when he seemed to accept this. “When Prince Dorian invited me down to Rifthold to affirm our courtship, it was a perfect opportunity to finish this sorry business as well.”

Captain Westfall sighed. “If this investigation of yours endangers Dorian at all, it will gain the full attention of the guard. Until then, this information will be for my eyes only. That’s the best I can promise.”

“I understand, Captain Westfall, and I appreciate your discretion,” she smiled as she handed the papers over to him. He glanced at a few of them before tucking them away—to be more thoroughly examined later, she was certain. “If you have any questions, I am happy to share with you what I know. After all, my hope is that we deal with him quickly and quietly, before word can get out about what he’s been doing here.”

“If what you say is true, then it would appear that our interests are aligned in this matter,” the captain replied. “I’ll return in a few hours to escort you all to the evening meal.”

Without a further word, Captain Westfall let himself out of her rooms as quickly and quietly as he had let himself in.

A few minutes later her door opened again, and this time it was Rowan. “Is the captain going to be a problem?” he asked.

“If I said yes, would you help me deal with him?” She wouldn’t ask him to, of course, but she had to admit she was curious as to his response.

“In a heartbeat,” he replied, and she felt a thrill of surprise at his lack of hesitation. “I do feel I must advise it could cause political complications, however.”

Aelin smiled. “Luckily for politics, I think he’s on our side. He may even help us, though that remains to be seen. His focus was on making certain Dorian isn’t any part of it, and I intend that as well.”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed and his head tilted slightly as his gaze caught on her hand. “Speaking of the prince,” he said, “I may not be overly familiar with human courting customs. However, don’t rings usually come after the marriage?”

Aelin blinked, and then looked down at the plain gold band that was still around her thumb. “Oh. Yes, at least in Terrasen. Dorian said that in Adarlan there’s usually a gift given at the beginning, but he didn’t specify it had to be a ring. He said he chose this because it belonged to my ancestors.”

Rowan seemed unimpressed by this, but didn’t voice any further concerns. Instead, he stood. “For now, we’ll have to assume your new guard friend won’t actively assist us. I’ll circle the palace before the evening meal, and attempt to learn the patterns of castle security. There should be a weak point we can use to sneak out as needed.”

“And if there is, I trust you to find it,” she smiled. “And what of your days? I apologize, but I didn’t consider what you would do once you actually got here.”

Rowan’s eyes grew bright and his lips curled into a grin. “Oh, princess,” he drawled, “did you truly believe you could escape your training simply because you’re in another country?”

Before she could say a word in response he had already left, and she could swear she heard the sound of laughter as the door closed behind him.

~*~*~

Rowan’s amusement faded as he returned to his own room and saw a piece of paper sitting on his desk. The guardsman who had visited Aelin had come to him first and given it to him, saying it had arrived shortly before they did. The letter was unsigned, but the pulling sensation in his chest and the tingling at the base of his neck told him exactly who it was from and what it contained.

A quick glance at the dark seal confirmed his suspicions, and he wondered for a moment exactly how long he could delay reading the letter before the oath he had sworn deemed him to be in defiance of his queen. In the end, though, he decided it wouldn’t be worth it to test the limits of the blood oath on something such as delaying reading a letter.

A quick flick of one of his smaller knives broke the seal, revealing a short and unsigned note.

I have read the signs in response to your reports. Doranelle does not approve of the potential match between Aelin Galathynius and Dorian Havilliard. Do what you can to subtly discourage the continuation of this courtship, and notify me immediately if they decide to proceed despite my disapproval.

Rowan sighed, letting the note fall to the surface of the desk as he considered his options. The tug of the blood oath meant that he couldn’t ignore it altogether, but the command for subtlety granted him some leeway in how he chose to proceed.

It made sense to Rowan that Maeve would disapprove of the potential match. Aelin had a powerful fire gift, though he had done his best to downplay the full extent of her powers in his reports and instead focused on her lack of control. While he was uncertain if Maeve knew the gifts of the Havilliard prince, he knew it was entirely possible that she had foreseen something in their future that would indicate the extent of his raw magic. It was equally likely that she was basing her decision off of the knowledge that magic ran in the Havilliard line as strongly as it did in the Galathynius line. Without directly asking, it was impossible to know, and Rowan had absolutely no intention of asking.

Truth be told, Rowan wasn’t certain he approved of the match either, though he had no valid reason to feel one way or another about it. Perhaps it was the carranam bond that was so freshly forged between them that was causing him to feel so unsettled, or perhaps it was simply that no matter what he did he could still taste the wildfire of her blood. Whatever the reason, he had felt ice flood his veins when he had seen that flash of gold on her finger.

Rowan sighed. Even if their courtship failed for whatever reason, he still needed to deal with whatever this uncertainty was, and quickly. He would not be permitted to stay in Terrasen or in Adarlan indefinitely, and once he had deemed her training complete it was incredibly likely that he would never see her again. Likewise, he would not be able to get around the oath indefinitely by prolonging her training needlessly. Maeve would only send another of her blood-sworn to get a secondary report, and he would be punished all the worse for his defiance.

Gods knew he was already courting enough danger as it was.

Despite the dangerous game he found himself playing, he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decisions. The fire that burned in Aelin so brightly commanded loyalty and admiration from those close to her, and despite his best efforts he had found himself no exception. She was a bright spark compared to the sea of darkness in which he’d found himself adrift, and without him noticing a part of him had latched onto that brightness and didn’t want to let it go. She would be a great queen one day, with or without a consort at her side, and her brilliance only served to highlight the darkness of the queen he currently served.

It really was quite a mess in which he’d found himself, and he found himself longing for the insight of his companions and fellow blood-sworn. Fenrys and Connall would have been unlikely to have much insight; Fenrys had made his disdain of their situation well-known and would be in favor of any form of rebellion, while Connall was more soft-spoken and a better listener than advisor. Vaughan was similar to Connall in that regard, and unlikely to say much of anything. Lorcan…

Rowan snorted out a quiet laugh. Lorcan would have nothing but disdain for him and his current situation. He loved their queen and had spent centuries devoted to her, and would have little tolerance for what Rowan was doing to work around his oath.

Truly, the only one who might have insight worth considering was Gavriel, and Rowan was determined not to bring him into this mess. Matters were complicated enough already.

He had known immediately, of course, that Aedion was Gavriel’s son. Their scents were too similar to leave any doubt, but even without that Aedion’s parentage was evident in his features and in the strength of his heart. The corner of Rowan’s lips twitched into a brief smile; truly, only someone with Gavriel’s immense patience and devotion would have been able to remain by Aelin’s side for as long as Aedion had without questioning her once. What was less clear, though, was whether Gavriel had hidden him away or whether he was completely unaware he even had a son. Either was equally likely; his companion had never once mentioned a child, and it would’ve been incredibly dangerous for him to father one knowingly given his oath.

Whatever the story was, the only safe plan was to carefully avoid saying anything to either father or son, and to leave it out of his reports entirely and pray to whatever god chose to listen that Maeve didn’t ask him anything about Aelin’s cousin. That also meant not asking Gavriel for advice even if he thought there was a possibility his letter wouldn’t be intercepted. No, he was truly on his own.

With a sigh, Rowan carefully lit a candle and burned the note. Then he shifted and flew out of his window to observe the palace walls. Better to focus on the short term, since there was nothing he could do today that would solve his larger problems.

~*~*~

Lysandra let herself into Aelin’s room an hour before the evening meal was to be served, laughing when she saw the stack of books her friend had on her desk in addition to the one she was currently reading. “I see the prince wasted no time in trying to impress you,” she teased.

Aelin smiled and set her book aside. “These were waiting for me already when Dorian led us here. How’s Evangeline settling in?”

Lysandra smiled back, warmth coursing through her. “She’s sleeping right now. Still overwhelmed, I think. Aedion’s watching her.”

Though he had had no real reason to do so, Aedion had fully embraced caring for the young girl just as quickly as he had declared his intentions toward Lysandra herself. Although it had unnerved her when they had first met, she had come to admire his ability to love so fiercely so quickly. It was simply a part of who he was, just as her own need for independence as well as the uncertainty that had demanded he prove his intentions were a part of her.

Aelin’s smile softened. “You know, growing up with him I never thought I’d see my cousin in any kind of parental role. Not through any fault of his own, but he was always so dedicated to the crown and to being a soldier.” Dedicated to Aelin herself, although her friend did the courtesy of not saying as much. “I have to admit it suits him.”

“It truly does,” Lysandra agreed.

“So does this mean you’ve decided to accept him?”

The shifter laughed. “Oh, no, you don’t get to know before he does. I promised him that ages ago. Besides, you’re far more interesting right now than we are.”

“Oh?”

“You and Rowan seem to be close now, after that trip,” she grinned.

Aelin glanced down at her hands where they rested in her lap. “Well, I suppose we couldn’t try to kill each other forever,” she replied. “That would be boring, and I loathe boredom.”

“There’s a great deal of ground between not trying to kill each other and sneaking out together.” Lysandra watched as Aelin’s eyes widened briefly before she regained her composure. Her friend’s tells were subtle, but Lysandra was a master of reading people’s expressions. Her life and livelihood had depended on that skill for so long, after all. Now that skill allowed her to know Aelin was hiding something. “I know you didn’t want to tell Aedion, but…”

Aelin took a breath, carefully not looking at her. “I had some unfinished business,” she said simply.

Lysandra frowned. That was a look she hadn’t seen on Aelin since… “Oh, gods, this is about Sam.”

Aelin went perfectly still where she was sitting, and Lysandra immediately knew she was right. “But that was all in Orynth,” the shifter protested. “What could be happening here that you think is related?”

She watched as Aelin bit her lip thoughtfully, obviously trying to decide how much to share. “Sam wasn’t from Orynth, as you know,” she began. “His former employer is here in Rifthold, as is the person I believe gave the order for his death.”

Lysandra sighed. “I know you won’t tell me what’s going on,” she admitted. “Ever since you brought me into the palace, we haven’t talked about it at all, and I understand why. But does Rowan know what you’re leading him into?”

It wasn’t a lie, even though she could admit it upset her that her friend felt she couldn’t talk to anyone about this. Gods knew she had a difficult time talking about her own life those last few months on Orynth’s streets, and Aelin had gone through so much more.

As Lysandra watched, Aelin finally met her gaze. “Rowan knows everything,” she said simply.

Lysandra could feel her face transform into a shocked expression as her body went numb. “Everything?” she asked, voice sounding faint and distant to her own ears.

Aelin nodded. “I was… out, gathering evidence, and he found me. I explained everything.”

If Lysandra had come into this room with questions about the bond between Aelin and Rowan, that statement alone confirmed most of her suspicions. The only reason Lysandra herself knew about Sam was that she had met the two of them at the same time. For Aelin to have told this Fae warrior about her deceased lover, there must have been more than either of them were willing to admit. “And he didn’t drag you back to the palace and drop you in front of Aedion?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Aelin shook her head, smiling. “He offered to assist me in my investigations, and in bringing justice to the one responsible.”

“That’s what changed,” the shifter realized. “Isn’t it? That’s what made the two of you stop fighting as much as you did.”

“It is. We… reached an understanding.” Aelin glanced away again, a certain sign that she was still keeping secrets, but it appeared that rather than hiding her own secrets she was keeping Rowan’s safe.

Lysandra decided to allow it, but she had to warn her friend nonetheless. “You’ll have to tell Aedion eventually, you know. He’s worried for you.”

“I don’t want to lose his respect or his trust,” Aelin replied. “If he… if anyone found out about Sam, about what we were planning…”

Lysandra cut her off. “He loves you, Aelin. He’s your family. If anyone would understand, I would think it’d be him.” Even as she said the words, though, she realized that was precisely why Aelin felt as though she couldn’t tell him. Telling Rowan, as upsetting as it must have been, would’ve had fewer possible consequences than revealing something so important to someone who had always been so close.

To her credit, Aelin just smiled and shook her head before changing the subject entirely. “If I’m not mistaken, we have an evening meal to prepare for,” she grinned.

And so the two friends both moved to the closet of Aelin’s room, Lysandra choosing to let it go for now. She couldn’t help but wonder, though, how long this tenuous peace could last if Aelin opted to maintain her silence.

~*~*~

The next few weeks passed with only minor incidents, for which Rowan was grateful. His mornings were spent training Aelin further in her magic, focusing primarily on control while performing smaller tasks as he and Aelin both agreed that it would be disadvantageous to display the fullest extents of her power. They had found a small courtyard on their first morning in the palace and quickly learned to secure it, ensuring that no one could go near them and risk injury. If that also meant the court was on edge about the princess spending so much time alone with a currently-unmated Fae male, well, that only furthered his queen’s command to disrupt the potential of her union with Prince Dorian.

In the afternoons he worked on his reports to his queen, carefully selecting his words so that he was concealing as much as possible while still adhering to his oath as Aelin did whatever it was she normally did with the Havilliard prince. He also rested as much as he could, since his mornings were devoted to training Aelin and his nights…

Every night he and Aelin snuck out of the palace gates and into the slums of Rifthold, each time selecting a different location. Sometimes she brawled with cutthroats, others she bought and sold information like she was born to do it. Once, they had returned to the Vaults and started a barfight that left the entire building trashed and the safe in the office cracked open. As far as he was aware, the owners had decided they would be unable to recover their losses and simply closed down.

She had done all of that to catch the eye of the most dangerous man in Rifthold, and soon they would know whether their efforts had been worthwhile.

Rowan groaned at the sound of someone pounding on his door, hand scrubbing at his face as he stood. Despite his best efforts, he had slept terribly that night, and the noise only served to set him further on edge. He finally opened the door and dodged the fist that had been about to pound on it once more, completely unsurprised to find Aedion there.

The younger male’s eyes were wild and his hair a tangled mess, clear signs of his evident distress. “Is she with you?” he demanded.

Rowan simply shook his head, watching as Aedion’s face fell.

The warrior began to pace. “She’s not in her rooms. No one in the guard can find her, though I did ask their captain to be discreet and it’s possible they haven’t had a chance to look everywhere—”

Rowan decided to give him what little mercy he could. “I know where she is,” he revealed.

“Then you can take me to her, right?”

“No. She asked that I give her twenty-four hours before I send anyone looking.”

“What?” Confusion emanated from Aedion as he froze in his tracks.

Rowan sighed. “Fair warning, you’re not going to like it if I tell you.”

“I don’t care,” he insisted. “Tell me everything.”

“I can’t. Most of it is Aelin’s secret to keep, and not mine to tell.”

“Then tell me what you can!” Aedion demanded, grabbing Rowan’s shirt before realizing what he had done and backing off as Rowan snarled.

With another sigh, Rowan began to speak. “You’ll want to fetch the guard captain before we begin. I’m only saying this once.”

~*~*~

Aelin awoke in a cold and dark room, with no windows and multiple locks on the door. When she moved to inspect them, she stopped short when her wrists didn’t move with the rest of her. She was chained or otherwise bound, then, she realized as she fought the urge to panic.

Her boots had been taken away and she was left in a thin shirt and trousers, every knife she’d had on her presumably gone as well. As a test, she reached inward for her magic, wincing when she only found embers instead of the wildfire that usually lived within her. Iron, then. She was bound in iron.

As she continued to take stock of her situation she was relieved to find she was mostly unharmed. Her head still ached from the initial blow when she had been taken, and her shoulders and wrists were screaming at her current position, but there was nothing beyond what she had expected.

Aelin allowed herself a small smirk as she carefully rotated her wrists as much as she was able. It seemed phase one of her plan had gone off without a hitch.

Footsteps sounded outside her door, audible even to her currently-human ears. She had only seconds to decide how she was going to present herself, then. She carefully shifted back in the chair on which she was seated, grinning to herself as the chains slackened slightly, and crossed her unbound legs.

The door opened and Aelin closed her eyes briefly to allow herself a moment to adjust to the sudden light of a torch without flinching. When she opened them she saw a man closing the door behind himself. Either the locks were on the other side of the door or he wasn’t foolish enough to bar the way should he require assistance, for he ignored them completely.

The man wore expensive, though unadorned, clothing that was loose enough to allow him to move unrestricted. The material of his dark grey shirt was fine enough that it draped along muscled arms, all the way down to elegant hands. He had clearly carefully planned his outfit just as she would have, for the color perfectly offset the long auburn hair he had tied back. When he turned, silver eyes gleamed above high cheekbones in the light of the torch he carried.

“Celaena Sardothien,” he murmured, voice a low purr that barely held any trace of his former country of Terrasen. “What a pleasure to finally meet you at long last. Or perhaps I should call you Aelin, Your Highness?”

It was a calculated move, intended to unsettle her, but she had already expected that he would guess who she was once he looked closely enough. Instead, she flashed him an inviting smile and relaxed further into her chair. “Hello, Arobynn,” she drawled.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows