#Rowan and Aelin

[bombitart]

So I was thinking about doing some spicy arts and decide to start with some light version 😋😏. Hope you enjoy this beautiful scene with Aelin and Rowan🫣❤️❤️❤️.

Characters from “Throne of glass” series by Sarah J Maas 🔥🔥🔥.

[shadowhandss60]

If Aelin trained Dorian:

Aelin: FIGHT ME YOU EMO NERD ASS SLUT.

Dorian: At least try to sound sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Aelin: Dost thou wish to engage in a duel, my good bitch?”

Dorian: …Somehow that is worse.

[acourtofquestions]

"But maybe," he said, quietly enough that she looked at him again. He didn't smile, but his eyes were inquisitive. "Maybe we could find the way back together."

He would not apologize for today, or yesterday, or for any of it. And she would not ask him to, not now that she understood that in the weeks she had been looking at him it had been like gazing at a reflection. No wonder she had loathed him.

"I think," she said, barely more than whisper, "I would like that very much." He held out a hand. "Together, then." She studied the scarred, callused palm, then the tattooed face, full of a grim sort of hope.

Someone who might-who did understand what it was like to be crippled at your very core, someone who was still climbing inch by inch out of that abyss.

Perhaps they would never get out of it, perhaps they would never be whole again, but

"Together," she said, and took his outstretched hand.

And somewhere far and deep inside her, an ember began to glow.

[justascrollingghost]

Can we talk about how Rowan had to be restrained so he wouldn’t run into deadly darkness after Aelin and this was before he’d figured out he was in love with her

[nikethestatue]

You know who else wondered why he wasn't mated to the woman he was in love with?

Rowan.

He wanted Aelin. For months and months, he wanted her and questioned what she wasn't destined for him.

Reminds you of anyone?

What if the Cauldron was wrong?

Why was Elain given to another?

Rowan was also torn up by these thoughts and questions, and they never left them. He desired Aelin, thought that he couldn't have her, thought that he already had a mate.

Azriel is just as torn up by his dilemma and he wants Elain regardless of their lack of bond, and her bond with Lucien.

History repeats itself.

[brainrotcharacters]

tell me I'm wrong

[harperbrynne]

Aelin and Rowan appearing in Prythian with several bags:

Rhys: You came from another world.

Aelin: Yes. *wipes sweat from forehead* We’ve been jumping from world to world for what feels like hours.

Rhys: And you are seeking refuge here?

Aelin: Oh, no, we’re looking to have a vacation. Is this the world to do it in?

[aelinschild]

Paradigm; side by side

˙✧˖ March 3rd: Curtain

Main Masterlist | Paradigm; side by side Masterlist |

SYNOPSIS: Sick with knowing. Dying from chance. WORDCOUNT: 636 WARNINGS: Horny Rowan?

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics 2024 March Prompts. Go check out the other works over there!

He didn't notice the silence until it changed. 

Until the sheer curtains whispered to him, swaying in anothers trail. The clicking of door notches, the echo of unpacking, the murmur of a body. For years, it had been him. Reigning sovereign over noise; existing from his will. There were stretches of time where he had forgotten how to speak – that he could speak. More than his mind, a language conceived out of convenience, he would listen to the noise around him until it became him. 

Aelin – the roommate – was more for sanity than any extra cash flow. 

But, it had been like a sunburn, when he opened that door. Prepared for the strange woman to move in, coaching himself into passivity. He had shaved. Appearing less formidable, softening edges and combing over cracks. The noise made from his pacing through the small space, fiddling with decorations, pulling back the curtains again and again. 

The seconds slipped away like sand through ruddy fingers. Nearly ripping the door off its hinges in haste, opening it to firelight made human. It had soaked the oxygen straight from his lungs, reaching deep into him for more. 

Rowan knew what it was like to drown, and he would trade it for burning if he had the chance. 

Her eyes – gold, gold, gold – had stuttered over him, widening. When they fell down his frame, he had drawn constellations through the freckles on her face. Cygnus, like a cross over the bridge of her nose. A part of the universe. 

He had recovered, had pushed past the blockage in his throat, choked on awe. In a slow gesture, welcoming her in. She had asked for him, had asked as if he was not nearly at his knees in prayer, and he spoke to her again. I am Rowan. Like a declaration, but moreso a surrender. 

When night had fallen, hours after she had retreated to her space in his home, his mind was fractured. Nerves frayed and spilt, body lined with enough tension to shatter. All that he could think of was her. It was perverse; ghastly and vile. But his shirt smelt like lemon verbena and crackling embers, simply by proximity. 

He had shucked it off, shoving it as deep as he could in the antique chest of drawers in the corner of the bedroom. Frantically opening windows, hands heavy with strength; lithe with intention. The overnight bag had faced the brunt of whatever ran through his veins, burning and burning. 

By dawn, the smattering of hair across his jaw had inched its way out. The world sang a tune different than what he bore witness to most mornings, he was spun off-axis. By a woman he had barely spoken to. All night he lay awake, straining to hear the lightest of sounds. Trapped in forlorn fantasy that promised an ending so painful it would border on pleasure. 

He had nearly pulled his hair from the roots trying to write his note. I'm going away for a day, sorry. I'm needed elsewhere, I'll be back soon. How are you liking the house – it's all yours while I'm away. 

When he heard her bed creak, innocent and immemorable, he had left. Straight through the back doors, down to the pier, out onto Ferus. He had half a mind to grab the overnight bag and his journal before untying the boat and preparing to tack. Racing out into the sea, surrounded by a heady fog that resembled the unease in his head. Alone again, but the silence was different now. Now it rushed over him, pulling him down into what would muffle infinity. No longer an afterthought.

Rowan was plagued. Sick with knowing. Dying from chance. Leaving calcified footprints over a space once created for him, by him, evaporated under sunlight, noticed by constellations.

Taglist: @mariaofdoranelle , @goddess-aelin , @leiawritesstories , @renxzs

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist :)

[acourtofthought]

Love - SJM Style

Obviously the actual falling in love part is amazing but before her characters get to that point, we have a lot of this:

Rowaelin -

You are a child, and a spoiled one at that. And,” he said, those green eyes holding nothing but distaste, “you are a coward.”

And then she said one of the foulest things she’d ever uttered in her life, bathing in the pure hate of it. “Fae like you make me understand the King of Adarlan’s actions a bit more, I think.”

“First thing,” he breathed, “we’re not friends. I’m still training you, and that means you’re still under my command.”

Chaol / Yrene -

You didn’t seem to mind the privileges that came when you snapped your fingers and Kashin ran here. Perhaps he’ll grow tired of you stringing him along.”

“You’d be surprised the people that opiate makes you consider. Who you’ll find yourself willing to sully yourself with.”

“Did she pick Dorian, then? The queen. I’m surprised she could stomach either of you, given your history. What your kingdom did to hers.”

“Yet you were assigned to me because your Healer on High saw otherwise. Saw that no matter how high you climbed in that tower, you’re still that girl in Fenharrow.” A laugh came out of him, icy and bitter. “I knew another woman who lost as much as you. And do you know what she did with it—that loss?” He could barely stop the words from pouring out, could barely think over the roar in his head. “She hunted down the people responsible for it and obliterated them. What the hell have you bothered to do these years?”

Aedion / Lysandra -

She knew Aedion would agree to the plan, even if he still hated her.

“You can go to hell,” Aedion snapped. “You can go to hell, you lying bitch!”

Lorcan / Elide -

Aelin had been brutalized, their very location betrayed by Lorcan to Maeve, and still he tried to follow. Right through the sand still wet with Aelin’s blood.

Elide let out a soft, vicious laugh. “Of course you didn’t. Why would you have intended for your wondrous queen to sever the blood oath?”

Lorcan blinked at the words, the hatred in them, stunned enough that he let her walk past this time. Elide didn’t so much as look back.

“The only thing that I am jealous of, Lorcan, is that she is rid of you.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. But Elide’s face did not warm. “I don’t care,” she said, turning on her heel. “And I don’t care if you walk off that battlefield tomorrow.”

“I have never heard Lorcan apologize for anything. Even when Maeve whipped him for a mistake, he did not apologize to her.” “And that means he earns my forgiveness?”

Quinlar -

“She’s a spoiled party girl. What did you expect?” “She’s not stupid, Hunt,” Isaiah countered. “Everything I’ve seen and heard suggests otherwise.”

His teeth flashed. “I don’t care what you call me, Quinlan, so long as you do what you’re told.” Fucking alphahole. “Immortality is a long time to have a giant stick up your ass.”

Feysand -

Rhysand ran an eye over me. “I knew you liked to stoop low with your lovers, Lucien, but I never thought you’d actually dabble with mortal trash.” My face burned.

Even as he said my most private thoughts, even as I burned with outrage and shame, I trembled at the grip still on my mind.

I stared at him, sending as much hate as I could into my gaze. He’d been the one who’d caused all this. He’d told Amarantha about Clare; he’d made Tamlin beg.

I bared my teeth. “Go. To. Hell.” Swift as lightning, he lashed out, grabbing the shard of bone in my arm and twisting. A scream shattered out of me, ravaging my aching throat. The world flashed black and white and red. I thrashed and writhed, but he kept his grip, twisting the bone a final time before releasing my arm. Panting, half sobbing as the pain reverberated through my body, I found him smirking at me again. I spat in his face.

“Don’t get me started on what you did to me Under the Mountain.”

“I didn’t ask for your approval.”

“I think we can agree that I owe you nothing, and you owe me nothing.”

“I’m not your enemy, Feyre.” “Tamlin says you are.” I curled the fingers of my tattooed hand into a fist. “Everyone else says you are.” “And what do you think?” He leaned back in his chair again, but his face was grave. “You’re doing a damned good job of making me agree with them.”

“No, because it’s so much easier to pretend it never happened and let them coddle you.”

“Luck? Yes, how lucky for you,” I said quietly, but not weakly, “that the rest of Prythian was ravaged while your people, your city, remained safe.”

His laugh was bitter, soft. “I thought so. Perhaps you should take some time to figure that out one of these days.”

“At least I let them see who I am, broken bits and all. Yes—it’s to save your people. But what about the other masks, Rhys? What about letting your friends see your real face? But maybe it’s easier not to. Because what if you did let someone in? And what if they saw everything, and still walked away? Who could blame them—who would want to bother with that sort of mess?”

Nessian -

“What are you looking at?” Cassian’s brows rose—little amusement to be found now. “Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the woods while she did nothing. Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall.” “Your sister died—died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don’t expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make—and insult my people in the process.”

“If that’s what a bastard-born Fae warrior can do, no wonder my sister has become so entangled with the High Lords.” Bitch. Bitch for the insult to him and to Feyre. “Did it bother you more that you wanted it, or that it was a bastard-born nobody who made you feel such things, Nesta?” “It’s been a long winter. Beggars can’t be picky, I suppose.”

What did he care? What did he care? He had enough shit to deal with.

“And what do you deserve?” A slow smile, indeed a plains-cat readying for the kill. Then, “Certainly more than a bastard-born nobody.” Bitch. “What a fne partner you are, Nesta. Remind me to bring a book on military strategy the next time. Maybe you’ll stand a chance then.” A cold, fat look. “It’s easier, isn’t it,” Cassian breathed, crossing the distance again, not caring who saw them standing in the bay window “To wield the words and the coldness as armor to keep everyone from seeing where and who you failed and how you did not care until it was too late.”

Only hatred gleamed in her eyes.

“Well, I see it, Nesta Archeron. And all I see is a bored and spoiled girl—”

“Is it Nesta?” “Not everything in my life is about your sister, you know.”

Nesta had made it clear enough she had no interest in Cassian—not even in being in the same room as him.

“I’ve made my thoughts clear enough on what I want from you.”

He didn’t know why the hell he cared. Why he’d bothered.

She’d made it clear enough in those initial days after that last battle that she wanted nothing to do with him.

“I was dragged into this world of yours, this court.” “Then go somewhere else.”

“Stop following me. Stop trying to haul me into your happy little circle. Stop doing all of it.”

“Your sisters love you. I can’t for the life of me understand why, but they do. If you can’t be bothered to try for my happy little circle’s sake, then at least try for them.”

“You think I can’t hear that male in your bedroom, trying to quietly put on his clothes and sneak out the window?”

Elucien are coming along quite nicely -

“You betrayed us.”

Her eyes went frank and cold. “I was to be married in a few days.”

“She wants nothing to do with me.” / And as for here …” He shook off my grip and headed for the door. “I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes.

“You couldn’t say a single word to him? A pleasant greeting?”

“He brought you a present.” Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

“Where’s Elain?” “I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.

[bombitart]

Aelin and Rowan eating Christmas cookies 🍪 🎄🥂.

“Throne of glass” series by Sarah J Maas 🔥🔥🔥.

Happy upcoming Christmas and Happy New Year holidays!

[shadowhandss60]

Chaol: Here’s a list of potentional champions. They’re all straight-laced and well respected warriors.

Dorian:

Chaol:

Dorian:I want the king of the Assasins.

Chaol: I-

Dorian: Scratch that, I want the 19 year old chaos gremlin who unalived a bunch of overseers with a pick axe for funsies so I can piss off my dad.

[acourtofquestions]

How is rowaelin already every romantic trope in one before they even have their first kiss?🫶😂👏

[justascrollingghost]

Aelin: so like when you’re a hawk can you talk to all the other hawks? Have you got bird friends that don’t know you’re not really a bird?

Rowan: fireheart.. please.. it’s 3am.. go to fucking sleep

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now — Ch. 2

Fic masterlist

Thank you for all the love on the first chapter!! I hope you like this update <33

Warnings: language, parents fighting, Fenrys

Rowan heard the chorus of Fenrys’ students before he even got to the place.

“Thank you… Moonbeam!”

He stopped for a second and then hurried up, curious to know what was going on in that class.

When Rowan graduated as an engineer, it didn’t even cross his mind that he’d end up working as a drill instructor for the Air Force. And liking it.

It started organically. His subordinates were trained well enough, but something was off with their coordination while marching, or sometimes they thought it was okay to show up with a stubble. Rowan was doing this job even before being offered the position, or so Colonel Darrow pointed out a few years ago.

It wasn’t what he’d planned for himself, but it worked out perfectly. Rowan was reaching the age of settling down. His cousin Sellene was currently facing a difficult pregnancy, and the thought of being deployed and leaving someone at home like that didn’t sit well with him. Instructing new recruits gave him the stability he wanted without having to leave the Air Force. It wasn’t perfect, but it was exactly what Rowan needed.

His current issue wasn’t the newbies, though. It was the instructor.

“Thank you… Moonbeam!”

“Thank you… Moonbeam!”

Fenrys was sat on a chair, grinning like Hellas himself while all of his students were shouting “Thank you… Moonbeam!” while doing push-ups.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rowan whisper-yelled so only Fenrys could hear.

His friend turned to him smiling, unfazed. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m training my little munchkins.”

Unbelievable.

Fenrys was fucking unbelievable.

“So you’re telling me that you borrowed my drive last minute for your class,” Rowan snarled, “Only to get here and teach my class instead?”

“But it’s the military! Exercising is everyone’s class.” He did a double-take on Rowan’s dissatisfied face and continued, “I went through hell as a newbie, it’s really fun to do the same to them. It’s a psychology thing, you should look it up online.”

“You’re supposed to be teaching them gun safety.” Rowan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Starting tomorrow, if I hear a word that you taught them something that doesn’t involve guns, and safety—“

“Okay, okay.” Fenrys waved him off. “There’s no need to snitch me to Salvaterre. Let me fix this.”

Before Rowan could stop him and say he didn’t have time left to start his actual class, Fenrys turned to the 40 new recruits who were still chanting Thank you, Moonbeam and shouted, “Okay, instead of my name, you’ll say Whitethorn. Now!”

“Thank you… Whitethorn!”

Rowan stared at them speechless. Whenever he thought Fenrys couldn’t be more unserious, his friend outdid himself.

“Thank you… Whitethorn!”

“Thank you… Whitethorn!”

”That’s not what I asked you to do at all, Lieutenant.” Rowan added, a hint of resignation in his voice. Sometimes giving up was the smart thing when it came to Fenrys.

“You deserve it. By the way, did I tell you…” he trailed. “Fuck, I lost count. How many push-ups do you think they’ve done already?”

“One more reason you should stick to your job. You suck at doing mine.”

Fenrys chuckled. “You little shit.” Then turned to the recruits again. “Galathynius!” Fenrys shouted. “I want push-ups, jumping jacks and crunches. I want twen-“ He sneaked a glance at Rowan. “Thirty of each! You’re counting for me this time.”

“Yes, sir!”

Rowan’s whole body froze.

He knew that voice. Rowan had long, wet daydreams and nighttime fantasies about that same voice saying Yes, sir to him again, but in a completely different tone and situation. He never thought he’d see her again.

His heartbeat was going a mile a minute when he slowly turned around, and there she was. Fierce blue eyes already trained on him. Rowan forced himself to look back at Fenrys.

“Did you say Galathynius?”

“Oh, that’s what I was going to tell you!” His friend’s eyes sparkled like they did every time he had good gossip. “She’s the class’ nepo baby. Brigadier Galathynius’ niece.”

Oh, that’s great.

Fucking a student was completely against his moral code as an instructor, but Rowan wouldn’t blame himself since it happened before he knew anything. That student’s uncle happened to be the man with highest rank working inside this Air Force base, but if nothing happened in the six weeks following Aviator’s Ball, it wouldn’t happen now.

These weren’t Rowan’s biggest issue.

His biggest issue was wanting to do it again. Which was completely off-limits.

“Rowie, you listening?”

He wasn’t, and Fenrys knew that.

“Sure. Go on.”

“So I’m trying not to be too hard on her because I really want her to put in a good word for me—“

Rowan’s eyes bulged. “I cannot believe you’re giving her special treatment because of her connections to the brigadier—“

“What?” Fenrys barked a laugh. “No! I’m not giving her special treatment because of her great-uncle.” He tilted his head. “He kinda gives a daddy vibe, though… but I’m doing it because her boyfriend’s playing hard to get.”

Rowan could swear his heart stopped for a beat. “Her what?”

Fenrys let out a heavy sigh. “Her boyfriend, Dorian. Hottest man on earth. We matched on Tinder a few months ago. I just explained you the whole thing.”

Months ago. Plural. Which means they were already dating when Rowan slept with her.

Did Aelin use him to cheat on her boyfriend that night? Rowan had vivid memories of her saying she wasn’t married.

He sensed the building ache of his fingernails digging into his palms, hands clutching into a fist.

She didn’t exactly lie, but he felt as if she did.

Rowan should forget about Aelin and her boyfriend. They weren’t his problem.

“So he’s cheating on her?” Rowan asked.

Fenrys shrugged. “He told me they’re in an open relationship, but I don’t really care. If I’m nice, she’ll like me. If she likes me, she won’t mind me fucking her boyfriend.”

“I don’t think that’s how relationships work, Fenrys.”

Relationship. The word felt heavier than Rowan predicted before he said it.

“You have very little faith in what a pretty face and dazzling personality like mine can do, Rowie.”

Forcing himself to not slump his posture in front of the new recruits, Rowan just closed his eyes and lowered his head, rubbing one temple. He felt tired. He didn’t want to argue with Fenrys now about something as meaningless as this.

“Just give me the flash drive, Fen.”

He turned to the newbies again. “Galathynius! I need the flash drive on the desk near the door.”

Great.

If Rowan didn’t play his cards right, he’d have ten weeks of hell ahead of him. A lifetime, depending on which part of the Air Force Aelin was going to after her basic training.

Analyzing her stance now, she seemed a lot sharper the day they met. Recruit training did that to people, though, and the first few weeks always felt particularly ruthless.

Rowan had an extended hand, ready to get this over with, when she shook it.

She shook his hand instead of giving him the flash drive.

Rowan dropped her hand as if it’d burned him.

“Ten on the floor.”

Aelin blinked. “What?”

“Ten push-ups on the floor, Galathynius! Now!” Rowan shouted.

He was right on track, considering this is the same treatment he usually gave to the other recruits. She was supposed to salute him, not make physical contact. These were the rules, and tough was part of the job. Rowan wasn’t teaching children, he didn’t need to be soft.

Aelin didn’t think so, from what he saw as she rose up from the floor. Her fierce eyes were burning into him, eyebrows scrunched.

Rowan would be lying if he said it didn’t send a thrill through his spine.

He didn’t acknowledge it, though. Just grabbed his flash drive and left.

He had been dreaming about another man’s girlfriend. For six weeks. It didn’t sit well with him. Staying the hell away from Aelin Galathynius. That���s what he needed to do. 

Rowan flexed his hand, still feeling her touch against it.

Today’s reaction was just the shock of seeing her again, ignoring Aelin would be easy. If he kept it together, he could finish these ten weeks and walk out like this never happened.

~~

“Look, Dada, I ate all the broccoli.”

Rowan kissed the crown of his daughter's head, trying to give her attention while low-key freaking out. "Well done, Mai."

He had completely forgotten to buy Maisie's strawberry yoghurt. Should he go to the store with her and destroy today’s sleeping routine? Ask to borrow some from Aelin's and destroy his pride? Or maybe not get the yoghurt at all and destroy his sanity tomorrow morning, when she inevitably throws a tantrum.

The latter wasn't an option, though. Mais already had a hard time before going to school, she deserved that strawberry yoghurt.

"Daddy, the ice cream?" she asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

Maisie sighed, as if she was explaining something obvious. "I was a good girl and ate all the vegetables. Now you give me ice cream."

Aelin.

This new rule had Aelin Galathynius written all over it.

Rowan took a deep breath. “Mais…” he trailed, trying to think of a good way to explain this to her. “I can’t give you ice cream every time you eat your vegetables. It’s not good for your body.”

"Daddy."

"What?"

"That's not showing love."

Rowan pinched his lips together, somewhere between frustrated and amused. Getting cranky on a sugar withdrawal and arguing with him. Her mother’s daughter through and through.

"I don't even have ice cream here, Mais."

"We can walk to Mommy's. She always has ice cream.”

He knew it.

Maisie crossed her arms. "I'm going to count to three. One... two... Don't let me get to three, or...”

"Or...?" Rowan raised an eyebrow.

Maisie's little green eyes drifted around as she thought of an answer, then she shouted, "Or I'll call you!"

It was like time had stopped, his chest feeling tighter each millisecond.

I’ll call you.

He and Aelin argued about their calls every week, but he was so careful about not letting their daughter listen to their fights. How in hell did she pick up on that?

"Honey, I'm home!" A familiar voice sing-sang from the living room, making Maisie leave the kitchen running.

Rowan relaxed for a minute, sighing. This wouldn't solve any of his issues, but it was enough to distract his daughter from the ice cream issue.

He could hear Maisie squealing before he got to the living room. Fenrys was checking the mail Rowan left on a side table while Dorian gave Mais his trademark bear hug.

“You need to change your address at work,” Rowan quietly complained as they watched Dorian pretend to wrestle Maisie and roar like a bear while she shrieked with laughter.

It took Rowan a long time to adjust to Dorian being around, but as Aelin always says, every kid needs a cool, rich uncle with no kids. He was good with Maisie, so Rowan sucked it up until he got used to it.

“You know I won’t,” Fenrys finally answered.

Rowan looked at his friend dead in the eye. “You’ll come here to get your mail for the rest of your life?”

“You’re so dramatic, Rowie.”

“You moved out years ago.”

“And you love my visits,” Fenrys cheered. “So does your little munchkin.”

Well, Rowan had begrudgingly accepted that Fenrys wouldn’t change his address at work before he retired. But Maisie? She loved those two idiots. Probably because they had the same level of maturity as her.

An idea struck Rowan, so he quickly gripped Fenrys’ arm and leaned closer.

“Do you think you can watch Maisie for a minute?” Rowan quietly asked. “I just need to get her yoghurt—“

“Babe, we’re babysitting tonight!” He screamed to Dorian, then crouched on Maisie’s direction. “Munchkin, why don’t you show me your new toys?”

Rowan had no expectations of those two making Maisie follow through her nighttime routine, but this would do. He quickly thanked Fenrys and Dorian, then left to the store closest to the Air Force housing complex he lived in.

Since Maisie was relatively well-assisted, he decided to wander through the aisles and get a thing or another that was also running out.

Rowan could swear he saw a very familiar blur of golden hair, but it was gone before he knew it.

He was thinking about getting some new foods and seeing if Maisie accepted them. He’d recently found a pediatric dietitian online that gave great advice—

Right there, examining every bottle of wine available.

He frowned. Why was Aelin buying wine on a Thursday? Did she have plans for the weekend? That couldn’t be, this was her turn to spend the weekend with Maisie.

Rowan was ready to go talk to her and talk about today’s ice cream issue, but he saw her peeking at him from the corner of her eye and focusing back on the wine.

Oh. That’s how it’s going to be, then.

Well, Rowan didn’t care. She didn’t want to talk to him? Fine. He was busy anyway. They would talk tomorrow after pick up.

He went to the cereal aisle. He got Maisie’s favorite, but what if he tried giving her a more nutritious one?

He started reading the nutrition facts. Picks one up, too much sodium, puts it down. Picks another one, too little vitamins and minerals, puts it down as well.

“Tough choice, huh?”

“Sure.”

This one seemed nice. It also helped that there were some cartoon animals on the box, so—

Rowan felt a hand gently stroking his arm, which made him jerk it away and snap his gaze to the person next to him. A woman. Pale blond hair, pale blue eyes.

“Do you need help to choose?” She asked.

Rowan relaxed. She probably worked here, even though she wasn’t wearing the staff uniform. Maybe something happened with it? He tried to remember himself that some work environments were a lot more forgiving than the military.

“I’m trying to choose a cereal.”

“I always pick that one,” she said before pointing at a box near them.

Organic, vegan and gluten-free. There was no ice cream in the world that could make Maisie eat that.

Rowan grimaced. “I’m not sure my daughter would like this one. I’m actually between these.” He showed her the two boxes and its nutrition facts.

“You have a kid. Cute.” She sneaked her hand on his arm again. What was wrong with the staff today? “Let me show you something…”

Then the inappropriate employee showed him an app that scanned the bar code and rated the food from zero to one hundred.

Rowan’s eyes widened.

This was fucking genius.

He thanked the woman and started scanning everything.

She stayed close for a while, then went away once she was sure Rowan was well-assisted by the app.

Right now, Rowan was no better than Maisie when she got a new toy. How had he never read about this app?

He scanned some to decide, and others just to be judgmental and prove his point. He knew those colorful little things were worse than sugar cubes. He should tell Lorcan know about this app—

“Where’s Maisie?”

Aelin snapped him out of his thoughts, squinting at him with crossed arms.

Oh, she wanted to talk to him now?

“At home. With Dorian and Fenrys.”

She looked unimpressed. “Well, I didn’t know you liked to leave your child to flirt with other women.”

“Are you kidding me?” His mouth opened, then closed again. “I was talking to an employee.”

Aelin’s eyebrows rose up. “You want me to believe that? She clearly doesn’t work here!”

Rowan frowned. Was Aelin telling the truth? The arm thing was weird, maybe she was trying to flirt. Over cereal?

“You know what? I’ll tell you if you tell me what’s all this wine for.” He pointed to her small cart.

“I do not need to tell you what I’m doing during my days off!”

She only wanted him to question what she was doing on her days with Maisie? Sure, he’d do exactly that. “Fine. Then at least tell me why does Maisie think she will get ice cream every time she eats vegetables.”

“Because she’s a kid! She’ll try anything to make you do what she wants.”

Rowan crossed his arms. “You’re telling me you have nothing to do with that?”

Her mouth fell open. “That’s exactly why I don’t want to talk to you between pick-ups. I need a fucking break.”

Rowan let out an incredulous laugh. “A break from your daughter?”

“No, a break from you.”

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course. How could he ever forget that Aelin needed space because he was the cause of all her issues?

“Could you please…” he breathed deep. “Just please, give her less ice cream?”

She inched closer. “Could you please, just please, not question the way I take care of my child every fucking day?”

“I don’t—“

“Yes, you do! She’s four-year-old girl who threw a tantrum because she wants ice cream. It’s not rocket science.”

Rowan looked away for a second, trying to calm down and talking in a gentle tone this time. “Okay, but maybe she wouldn’t do such a big tantrum if she had healthier dessert.”

Aelin frowned. “Healthy dessert?”

“Yeah, like grapes, watermelon—“

“FRUIT? You’re giving Maisie fruit and telling her it’s dessert!?”

“Fruit is dessert.”

“When it’s on top of a pie, Rowan.” Aelin’s eyes bulged like he’d just told her the most absurd thing.

Rowan bit his lip, trying not to laugh at her observation. They had talked about this many times already, and he still didn’t know if he found her stubbornness on this subject more comical or frustrating. Probably the latter, at least depending on the day.

He glanced at his phone. Fuck, it was so late. Time really flies with that food-ranking app.

“I have to go now, but I’ll call you—“

Aelin shook her head. “Personal space. Boundaries. We just talked about that.”

Rowan pinched his lips together, then remembered Maisie’s words from earlier. I’ll call you.

“Tomorrow after pick up, then?”

“Sure.” Aelin nodded and went away.

He did a mental note to see if someone could watch Maisie tomorrow evening. They’d probably end up having a huge fight about needing to have fewer fights. It’d be a shitshow.

*

The real shitshow was getting Maisie to go to bed, though. At least that was how Rowan felt when he was finally ringing Aelin for her goodnight call with Mais. He didn’t know what felt heavier, his limbs or his eyelids.

After grocery shopping, Rowan arrived home to the loudest state his home has ever been. Maisie’s squeals sounded louder than the TV. There was half-eaten chocolate in the couch. Fenrys was holding Maisie by one arm and one leg, spinning her sideways by the sound of *You Spin Me Round* while Dorian filmed everything.

Right before bedtime.

Rowan immediately felt his stomach fold into a tight knot inside.

This was every parent’s nightmare.

The rest of the evening went on exactly the way Rowan predicted the moment he stepped his foot into the house.

Maisie didn’t want Fenrys and Dorian to go. She cried when Rowan told her it was time to wind down and stop playing. Her uncles told him they didn’t bring the chocolate, but Maisie refused to tell him where she got it from.

By the time Rowan almost literally wrangled his daughter into bed, he was afraid he’d sleep in her tiny bed during story time before she did. It happened before.

He was now outside Maisie’s bedroom, giving her privacy with her mom. Aelin would complain about his calls the whole week, but Rowan was a dead man if he didn’t call her to say good night to her daughter.

“Daddy?” Maisie had her hand outstretched when he peeked into the room. “Mommy wants to talk to you.”

Rowan forced himself not to sigh, squared his shoulders and grabbed that phone. An officer going into battle.

He felt too drained to have another fight.

“Just so you know, I don’t give her ice cream every day.” Aelin’s voice sounded a little too quiet, or maybe it sounded like this to him because she wasn’t screaming.

He relaxed. ”Okay. Good.”

“I don’t keep track of how many times I give her ice cream, but it’s probably a lot less than you think.”

“That’s good to know. Thanks.” Rowan meant it. Not knowing or not being able to control some things left him more uneasy than he’d like to admit. Aelin probably knew that.

The silence stretched a little, and he tried to figure out if there was something else he needed to warn Aelin about.

“Good. Rowan, I need to—“

“I found some illicit chocolate today,” Rowan interrupted. “I think Maisie found your new stash.”

Aelin sighed. “That kid is outsmarting me.”

“She is.” He snorted.

“Rowan.”

“What?”

“I need to go.”

“Sure. See you at the pickup.”

“‘Kay, bye.” She hung up when the silence stretched for too long.

Rowan put his phone down and managed to lay on Maisie’s tiny bed. She hugged him, but only settled after squirming a little.

“I miss Mommy.”

“You’ll see her tomorrow.” It was a common thing, Maisie missing one parent while staying with the other. The trick was to acknowledge his daughter’s feelings, but not prompting her further enough to start a meltdown.

“She gives better cuddles.”

Curious, he chuckled and asked, “Is that so?” He’d never not be amused at his daughter’s bluntness.

Maisie nodded. “Mommy’s all squishy and comfortable.” Then she poked his abs so hard he grimaced.

He wasn’t focusing on Maisie’s sudden show of strength, though. He was currently fighting the wave of nostalgia flooding him after his daughter’s comment. Rowan used to know Aelin’s body like a kid knows their favorite toy, and he wouldn’t call it squishy. It must’ve changed after the pregnancy. He wouldn’t know.

He forced himself to focus back on Maisie, who was still frowning with her head laying on his chest. 

“You can’t comment on your mom’s body like this, Mais.”

Her frown deepened. “But she comments on mine!”

Rowan held on a sigh. She was a very argumentative little girl, this one. Much like her mother. The ‘but she’s your parent’ explanation was never well-received, so he had to try another tactic. 

“But she’s a doctor. She can comment on people’s bodies, it’s her job.”

“I don’t like it when she says I have baby cheeks. I’m not a baby.”

Rowan snorted. “So you’re reading on your own like a big girl tonight?”

Her eyes went wide. “Daddy, you’re mean! I can’t read.”

He chuckled and kissed that light blonde hair. “What am I reading to you, then?”

“No reading!” She exclaimed, “I want a story from your head.”

Rowan hummed and scratched the back of his neck, stalling. God, he was terrible at this.

“There was a family of birds—“

“Doggies.”

“Okay, doggies. There was a family of doggies. There was the Mama Doggie, the Dadda Doggie and Doggie.”

“Doggie needs a name, Daddy.”

“Okay, the dog’s name is—“

“Fleetfoot. Now tell me the rest of the story.”

And Rowan would do, if Maisie hadn’t slept halfway through it.

Which left him time to think about his day. And Aelin. And how they needed to talk about what Maisie said today during dinner. Rowan already knew what he had to do, though. He needed to distance himself from Aelin. Boundaries, like she always says. Forget about the fact that this had already been his goal for a good part of the last five years.

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[brainrotcharacters]

[rowanaelinn]

Happiness - Chapter Two

Happy Birthday @backtobl4ck !!! I rushed this one, but I know you were excited for it so I wanted to post it today for you! I hope you are having a great day!

Warnings: PTSD | Word Count: 3,400

As a hand brushed his shoulder, hope bloomed in his chest. He’d been standing here for more than an hour now, but it was alright. She was here now. He could work past the humiliation of talking everyone’s ears off about his wife for months now just for her to come out late, but only for her beautiful eyes. She’d just been late, exactly what he’d thought. Traffic could be awful at this time of the day. 

He broke the tense stance and turned around with his lips tipping up. He couldn’t wait to sweep her in his arms. Yes, there’d be a conversation to have later. About his departure, about their fights, and all the calls he’d left unanswered during his time away but… For now, he just wanted to breathe her in. 

Yet, he was only left with cold disappointment as he saw Fenrys’ mother there. There was a kind smile on her lips, the one she used to have on her face whenever she had to announce him his parents had forgotten to pick him up when he was a kid. He looked around, but at the exception of Fenrys and Connall, nobody else was there. Everyone had been tapped out already. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” the woman who used to take care of him as a kid said.

He wished he could tell her something, that he wasn’t so awkward with people that he could touch her shoulder or lie to her and say that it was okay. Instead, he managed to give her an uncomfortable shrug before turning toward Fenrys. They’d grown up together, went to school together and enrolled in the military together. Even if he pissed off Rowan to no end most of the time, he was still grateful for his friend. “Did she call you?” 

Out of all his friends, Aelin got along the best with the twins. She had that weird relationship with Fenrys that made him want to punch the guy in the face most of the time he was near his wife, and he also knew that Connall and Aelin supported each other whenever he and Fenrys were deployed. 

He knew the answer before Fenrys shook his head. The man had his emotions written all over his face. “She isn’t answering. Maybe something’s wrong with her phone?” 

He had to shut down any reaction he could be feeling. He had to be practical about this situation. Analyzing. Factually, he knew where she was. But if he was correct, it would mean that this would be another problem. It means that down the road he’d find pain. He had enough of pain. 

He cleared his throat, chasing all tells of his emotions away. “I’ll take a taxi to the hospital, thank you.” Thank you for waiting, thank you for tapping him out so one of the officers wouldn’t have to do it. 

“Nonsense,” Connall said. “Fenrys will catch a ride with Mom, and I’ll drive you.” 

He thanked his friend with a nod, and in the car didn’t bother to try to hold a conversation. Connall wasn’t trying, anyway. He knew better than to ask a soldier how they felt so early after they came back from active shooting zone, and he also knew that whenever he and Aelin had… issues, he became even less talkative than he usually was. It was easy to be silent when with Connall. 

Connall waited in the parking lot when Rowan asked one of the receptionists to call for Aelin, which he was only allowed to do once he said he was her husband. He was glad there was some semblance of security for the staff of this hospital. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that these places were safe. Aelin would say that he was paranoid. 

He looked at posters when he felt her. He couldn’t explain it, knew that there was no scientific reasons as to why whenever she entered a room he felt it. He still did, and had from the first moment they met. He took a deep breath before turning around, and then he allowed himself to take her in. His wife. 

She’d changed. There was some fatigue on her face that hadn’t been there when he left, no matter how much she threw herself into work then. He couldn’t help but wonder when her last full night of sleep had been. 

She seemed… surprised when she saw him. Surprised, conflicted. Happiness wasn’t the main trait on her features now, and he knew it was the same for him. He couldn’t blame her for that. 

When she hugged him, wrapping her arms around him, he wanted to leave. He didn’t want to have that conversation with her, but he’d missed her so fucking much that he still stuck around. At least it’d be time spent with her, even if it was just to argue.  

---

“We’re here,” Connall said, and when Rowan looked up, they were indeed parked in front of his house. They hadn’t chosen to live in a military house, instead buying one closer to Aelin’s work and back then, her university. They’d also wanted to avoid the nosiness that came with military towns. 

Rowan thought he’d enter the house alone, and maybe unpack. But Connall got out of the car and helped Rowan with his belongings, even if he could have done it alone. He told his friend so. 

Connall shrugged, “Don’t stay alone, offer me a beer.” 

That made him want to smile. 

The house was… cold. Not literally, as Aelin loved to live in warm spaces, but the feeling of entering. He thought he’d find stuff everywhere, knowing how messy his wife was. But no. The house was neatly clean. Not a single thing out of space. Her office had been organized with her messiness, showing how much time she spent there. But this house? It was as if no one had lived there in months. Yes, this house was cold. 

“You can just leave these here,” he told Connall, who listened and placed the bag just next to the staircase. 

He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge and was glad to find a few beers there. He liked his drinks cold, but Aelin hates beer and since she forgot about him coming… He didn’t think she’d have anything ready. But she did, and these were his favorites. 

Should that make him feel as conflicted as he’s feeling now? A simple beer in the fridge? 

He grabbed two and closed the door, but before he could walk to the living room where his friend was waiting, his attention was captured by the wall of pictures on his left. It had always been there, but there were a few new pictures. He walked there, wanting to see what he’d missed. 

Next to the one that had been taken at their wedding—a beautiful shot of Aelin and her cousin dancing together—was a new picture of her and Fenrys that must have been taken before their deployment. She was dressed in a pink sundress and had the man’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, the both of them grinning. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something wrong with this picture. And it wasn’t Fenrys this time. He trusted his friend and his wife.

Under this one, another picture captured his attention. Was that at Aelin’s graduation last year? He’d been back home that day, but his superior had asked for his help to train new recruits, which means he’d been gone for two weeks. He wished he could have been there, although he hated how much she worked he knew how much she wanted that degree. He felt so proud of her, and wished he could have been there to celebrate but it wasn’t possible. No one can say no to Rowan’s bosses. 

But as he admired that picture of her, he had never seen, Aelin holding her degree and smiling for the cameras. No, she wasn’t smiling. That one was a little more obvious than the one picture before but… she was smirking. 

It was strange. Yes, he’d seen her make that face a few times over the years, but never when her face was supposed to be filled with happiness. Perhaps it was the biggest tell. Even louder than how she had stopped kissing him before bed two years ago, how she had stopped joining him downstairs after she woke up for coffee, instead choosing to stay hours in their room, always studying. It was even more telling than how she had slowly pulled back, always angling her body away from him. 

She wasn’t the same Aelin. She still looked the same, yes. But he barely saw the woman he married in that picture. There was no anger in him, though he had felt so much of it during his deployment. No, his emotions were… numb. How could she look the same and yet so different at the same time? 

He looked at another picture then, one taken at their wedding. It was the first picture they’d hung on that wall, and he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her as they did that. Just as he was glued to her on that picture. She was wearing a short white dress she’d bought at the mall the same morning, and she was tucked right into his side. It didn’t stop him from staring at her, that smile that had felt so natural back then. She was smiling, too. So radiant that she must have blinded the entire room that night. 

But next to this picture was a new one taken when he came back from his last deployment. It wasn’t the same expressions. She still smiled, still looked at him but now, when he could compare, it was obvious the difference. She resented him. That wasn’t… wasn’t something he’d ever wanted to face. He’d been happy to ignore it, but how could he when it was so obvious? Did everyone who walked into the house saw it? Did any who ever saw them—

It was instinct that took over as the ringing in his ears appeared, at the way his body froze for half a second when the loud noise made itself heard. He went for his belt, only to not find his gun there. Goddamn it. How could he be in an active warzone and walk without his gun. He grabbed the first thing he saw: a knife. In the next second, he was in fighting stance, ready to kill or be killed. 

“Shit, man,” someone breathed on his left. The voice was familiar. He looked and saw Connall. 

Connall Moonbeam, a lawyer. Who had nothing to do with the military. He couldn’t be there.

And this room… this wasn’t a desert. It was his house, in Doranelle. 

He let the knife fall onto the floor, trying to regulate the shaking in his hands. They weren’t supposed to shake, had never before. 

What the fuck was that? 

“Rowan, you okay?”

He swallowed, looking around himself. The kitchen, he was in the kitchen. Not there.

“Yes,” he said, trying to sound convincing. He had to get away from here. “Con, can I spend the night at yours?” 

---

It was late when Aelin opened the door and was wrapped into the house warmth. Or perhaps it was early. She didn’t really know where the line stood, but she knew that she was picking as many hours in the hospital as possible. Even more so than before. 

What else should she be doing? 

Her plans were to pour herself an obscene amount of wine and watch some TV, and then hope to find some sleep. Not that she had been sleeping a lot lately. She particularly enjoyed the nights where she was so exhausted that she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

But finding Rowan sitting on the couch hadn’t been in her plans. 

Her stopped in her movements as she saw him there, but quickly regained power over her limbs. She wouldn’t let him see her reactions. He looked up, eyes scanning her body as he always did when he saw her. Not in a lustful way, though it had happened, but more as a way to make sure she was safe. Probably something picked up from his entire love and devotion to the military. 

“Did you finally come back to your senses?” She asked coldly as she took off her coat, leaving her in her scrubs. 

“You’re home late.” 

She glared at him, making her way to the kitchen where she picked a glass and a bottle of her favorite wine. Then, she poured a little more than necessary. But no one was here to judge her for that. Oh, except… Yes, he followed her to the kitchen. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked, not even othering to spare him a glance as she took a long sip of her drink. She was too aware of him, so she knew when he settled against the kitchen island. 

“It’s my home.” 

She huffed a laugh then. “Is it, really?” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asked, tension in his voice. 

She braced herself on the cold marble of the kitchen island, then turned her head to look at him. “Well, I don’t know. You always look so eager to leave. First to sleep on bunk beds in the middle of the desert, then to spend a week the Gods know where just after you come back.” 

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I have to leave for work, I don’t choose to leave so far. And I thought we needed space, until we could talk.” 

He chose to leave, though. His contract had ended at the end of his previous deployment, and he still re-enlisted. No matter how any times she begged him not to. That was his choice, not something that he was forced to do. 

“Where were you?” He was dressed in civilian clothes, but that didn’t mean he didn’t spend time at the closest military base. It was late, and he could have had time to change. The idea of him living there was funny. He’d be so close to everything he freaking loved, and twenty miles away from what he seemed to loath now. 

“Connall’s.”

She gritted her teeth. It bothered her more than she wished it did, that he spent time there. That was where she’d spent multiple nights during his and Fenrys’ deployment. He was a huge part of her support system, and he’s only texted her once in the last week. 

“Well, don’t let me stop you. I’m sure he’s waiting for you.” 

“I’m staying,” he stated, as if she wouldn’t question that. 

She snorted. “Yeah, for how long this time. An hour?”

“Until I find myself a new place. Until things are settled.”

She could feel the fire rise in her. He used to joke that the gold in her eyes turned into flames whenever she was angry, well if it was true, he was aware of how she felt now. She took another sip of wine. “I’m not sure she’d really appreciate it.” 

His brows furrowed. ��She?” 

Aelin cocked her head to the side, taking a step in his direction. “Yes, she.” She swallowed another sip of alcohol. Why was she even brushing that subject, goddamn it? “You know, that woman you found in the Southern Continent.” Another step, but he didn’t move. “The one you’ve got to know. You fell for her. Who knows, you may have even fucked her,” she breathed, looking in his eyes. She took another step, not realizing how close she was. She was shaking, though. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was the fatigue, or maybe it was the disgust at the idea of him with someone else. “Or should I say the one you’re leaving me for. Does that ring a bell?”

Something shone in his eyes, before he dimmed it. “I didn’t meet anyone, and I don’t cheat.”

She snorted, “I don’t believe you.” But she wanted to, very much so. 

He took a step, breaking any sort of safe space Aelin had tried to keep. He had to look down to keep eye contact, and as a reflex, she tilted her head up. He was as punchable as he was lovable.

“You’re leaving me,” she breathed. It was settling in slowly, how he wanted out. When he mentioned it for the first time, she nearly laughed. Until she realized he was serious, that this was truly a wish of his. When this set in, it was as if a hole was being dug in her chest. A hole that kept getting bigger and bigger the most the thought about it, hence why she stayed at work longer. 

“Not for someone else,” he replied on the same tone. “I’d never do that.” 

“Just like you swore you’d never leave? Is that another of your promises?” They meant shit to her now. Nothing mattered because he was gone. Physically he was present, but emotionally? He found his way out. Using a backdoor she had contemplated using sometimes, but never found it in herself to really want it. 

He closed his eyes, breathing ragged. The warm, nearly burning, air hit her face at every respiration, but she didn’t push him away. She should, though. Shouldn’t she? They shouldn’t be allowed to be near, now. 

He wasn’t her Rowan anymore. It wasn’t just his idiotic wish to be separated but… He’d stopped being her Rowan years ago. She’d spent more time with a husband she resented than one she adored. 

“You don’t get to want a way you,” she sneered. “Not when I’m stuck here because of you. Not when I gave you everything.” 

He pulled away, then. Glaring. “Then accept. Let’s get divorced, so you can go back to your fancy Orynth.” 

Her lips parted. He wanted her gone. 

She had wanted to leave for years, to go back near her family. To where she had grown up. But she had made her home in Doranelle now. Had friends, her cousin had moved here. She refused to leave this nest she had created for him. 

She refused to be away for him, that was what she didn’t dare to admit to herself. 

She looked away for a second, but the pull to look at him was too strong. There was this pit in her chest, one that was filling with tears quickly. Tears that burned her eyes, making her bite the inside of her cheek until she could control the wobble of her lips. 

She couldn’t let him see her cry. 

Not when he was almost… a stranger. 

That was how she saw things. 

“You’re taking the spare room,” she said, because she knew that she had no way to tell him to not sleep here. 

She could ask him to leave, and he probably would. But she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to share a house with him, but she couldn’t throw him out either. 

She needed her own space, though. So, no, she couldn’t share a room with him. She refused.

There was something that flashed in his eyes, and she had an inkling on what it was. They had never called the spare room that way. Ever since they bought the house, that second bedroom had always been the Baby’s room. Where their child would sleep and play. But it never happened, and certainly would never happen now. 

Aelin had bought an adult sized bed and some furniture for the times her family from Orynth decided to visit. Her uncles were always welcome here, and she had wanted to make it has home-y as possible. 

He nodded. “Of course.” 

She could go back to her room now and break alone. But she stood there, watching him. He’d changed, was more guarded now. He had never been guarded with her, had always allowed her a door into his thoughts. She lost the key sometimes in the last few years, though. 

She shook her head, thinking of everything he’s throwing away. All the time she’d lost. Her voice was weak as she said, “I wish I had never met you.” 

••••••

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