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wordsafterhours · 1 year ago

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Songs About You - Chapter 15

Author's Note: Buckle up and enjoy this fluff fest. I worked so long on getting this chapter right and I think it still fell short. But I just love this time of year. Fall and Winter are my bread and butter, especially Christmas. I'd like to live in a Hallmark movie and make zero apologies for it. In the next few updates, we will be seeing more explanation onto what happen to her parents, more details on Arobynn's betrayal, and Gavriel and Aedion's exile from Aelin's life.

*Unedited update. I couldn't wait.

Triggers: I can't think of anything crazy that would need to be listed

Word Count: 9.8k (I haven't written college papers this long)

Masterlist

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Still quite bemused with herself, Aelin dawdled through getting dressed and making her way down the stairs. Several familiar voices deep in conversation reached her ears long before she found them in the foyer, digging through dusty boxes.

“Does she have decorations for every occasion? I’m pretty sure I’ve looked through thirty boxes and only found one with Yulemas stuff,” complained Dorian.

“Her family was big on celebrating any and everything. It was magical coming here as a kid. Trust me, the Yulemas decorations far outnumber anything here three to one,” Elide stated matter-of-factly.

The dark-haired male dramatically whined and started opening another box. Aelin decided to take pity on him, “The items in question are in the basement and carriage house.”

“Oh, hey there. I didn’t realize you’d come down.” Elide��s cheeks tinged pink with her admission, clearly flustered at having been caught unaware.

The blonde said nothing, leaning casually against the wooden banister to her left, patiently waiting for anyone to divulge an explanation for the scene at hand. Elide dusted off her hands against her jeans and smiled tensely. “I’m sorry about last night. You were right to be upset and after you left, I was such a mess trying to figure out how I was going to apologize. A little birdy told me the house wasn’t decorated and I decided that it would be the best apology I could muster.”

Her friend bounced anxiously up and down while she talked, a telltale sign of how unsure she was of herself right now. Aelin knew it had taken a lot for Elide to show up uninvited, especially given how last night had gone, and in taking such a bold move to decorate the house. Yulemas wasn’t the same since her parents passing and even less so after exiling the only family she had left. Each year, as December fell, she longed to pull out the boxes, to put up trees and wrap garlands around the columns, yet it never came to fruition.

Chaol had tried it to snap her out of it, but after one too many meltdowns, he’d just stopped. He’d always get her a gift and then head south to Adarlan, to spend it with his father, Dorian, and Dorian’s family. It was easier that way. No fake smiles, pretend happiness, or unwanted melancholy chasing away the holiday joy.

If the very idea of this holiday hadn’t been artfully avoided, the decorations’ locations would be a forgotten memory, beyond her grasp. But her mind cruelly remembered what each and every box had, where it lived, and whose job it had been to put it up. Yulemas used to be the one thing worth waiting for as a kid. Not her birthday, summer, visits from Aedion, or traveling the continents—it was and had only ever been Yulemas.

As the air cooled and the calendar marked December 1st, her mother was hiring local city folk and paying bonuses to landscapers to help put up all the decorations. It was a grand affair and the week before Yulemas, her parents would open their finished home for tours. Hot cocoa, cider, and sweet treats were offered. Carols would be sung, and she would play piano for their guests. Aelin lived for it. What she wouldn’t give for five minutes in one of those memories.

A very sharp delivery of her name brought her out the reminiscent reverie. She took a startled step backward in attempt to gather her bearings. Elide was in arms distance now, looking concerned more than anything. “Are you okay?”

Was she? Simple answer: no. Would that be shared? Also, no.

“Only trying to process all of you here, digging through my house.” She internally winced at the tone, knowing its harshness wasn’t deserved, but too aggrieved to cop to it.

“I wish all my friends groveled like these two,” Fen casually declared between bites of toast.

“Sharing my bed wasn’t enough, you’re eating my food, too?”

“I worked up an appetite,” he whined, dark eyes giving her a pleading look that would rival Fleetfoot’s.

Graciously, no one chose to run with the blond’s comment, sparing her from further humiliation and or drawn-out explanation. At least the day was giving something back to her, small as it was.

“Who else is here?”

“We all are, well minus Lorcan. He’s being a pain in my ass, and we can leave it at that.”

She gave a non-committal acknowledgement, staring too hard at one of the boxes Dorian had previously been looking through. If she granted them the okay to pull out the Yulemas decorations, could she bear it? Would the joy of it overshadow the grief that was picking her a part, one stitch popping at a time, threatening the remaining seams that were left.

A presence came to rest behind her and she unconsciously gravitated back. His warmth radiated across her, momentarily chasing away the chill that had settled. Even as upset as she was with him, as betrayed as she felt—Rowan had become a much-needed life raft.

He shouldn’t be.

Couldn’t be.

But yet, he was. There were somethings this world knew that she didn’t, but what she did know, undoubtedly, down to her very marrow, was that Rowan Whitethorn had been the very thing missing from hers. “It’s okay to be scared and sad, Ace, but you have to stop limiting your happiness. Take it back. You deserve joy. Elide told me how much the season means to you and it’s almost over, but it doesn’t mean you can’t partake in it. We’re all here for you. Just say yes.”

His appeal was low, warmed breath washing over the exposed column of her neck, words meant to only be heard by her. Resigned, her shoulders sagged as she nodded in wordless acquiescence.

“This is going to be so exciting!” cheered Elide, clapping her hands together in paramount enthusiasm.

At least someone was thrilled. All Aelin could feel was a ten-pound leaded weight sitting in the pit of her stomach. It was cruel how emotions could rule, define, own. She’d do anything to turn it all off; to be cold and unfeeling, if only to get through this day.

Her blue eyes stared intently, roving over every oak plank not covered by the foyer rug. One, two, three… one-hundred and fifty-one. All visible ones accounted for and the heaviness humanely lessened. She was alone, the sounds of her friends muffled, but it was clear they had wasted no time tackling the decorations.

“Better?”

Her breath caught in surprise. Why Aelin had assumed she was truly alone was beyond her. If her thoughts hadn’t consumed her so, his presence would have been felt. A lie was forming on her tongue, but it tasted bitter, too bitter to bring to life. “Not really, but I think you already knew that.”

“Perhaps. Not that you give me benefit of the doubt often, but I don’t know everything.”

An unladylike snort sounded between them. Her eyes widened in embarrassment, and she hid her face. Rowan laughed loudly, chasing away her self-consciousness, and warming her to the core. It was such a beautiful sound, carefree and unbound.

“I heard they found the sitting room decorations and some aged sheet music. Dorian said you play. Can you show me?”

“Gods what a gossip queen,” she muttered with rolled eyes.

“I know I don’t know him well, but he doesn’t seem like a vault by any means.”

“He would spill everyones’ secrets for a good romp in the sheets.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Rowan acknowledged dryly.

Expectance hung in the air as Aelin waffled between telling Rowan no or sucking it up and playing. She hadn’t played in years. The piano was surely out of tune, the ivory keys covered in a telltale dust film. It was a talent, a habit long forgotten, buried beneath a barrage of painful memories.

The feel of smooth keys beneath her fingers could never be forgotten and suddenly hers were itching to glide across them. To artfully construct notes into beautiful chords and drown out the world until only music remained. Nothing else mattered when she sat at the bench. Maybe, just maybe, that was what she needed.

“Just one song.”

“Just one song,” he agreed. He sounded somewhat surprised, but Aelin wasn’t too sure since her back was still to him.

She brushed around the foyer table and pushed apart the dark wood pocket doors, revealing a beautiful brown piano, nestled in the far corner, between a window and fireplace. Without much thought, Aelin raised the lid, and then sat down, flipping back the cover, revealing ivory and gold keys.

The piano had been a gift from her parents one Yulemas, after she’d shown promise with the instrument. It had been redone just for her; the traditional black keys replaced with gold. After the finished stretching her hands, she played a few notes to ascertain how out of tune it was.

It wasn’t as much as the thought and a small, pleased smile turned the corners of her mouth upwards. Out of her periphery, she watched Rowan’s large frame settle into one of the chairs that faced the piano. Her hands slightly trembled, the gravity of the moments to come setting her nervous system haywire.

Assuming proper position, Aelin moved to the edge of the bench with her back straight, arms out and relaxed in front of her. The opening chord notes tinkered through the air, harsher than they out to have been—her wrists were dropping. In the back of her mind, the severe chastisement of her former tutors reminded her that she wasn’t “grasping the keys”, thus her wrists were not lifting accordingly, the notes not soft.

Playing solely from memory, more than a few missteps occurred, but if Rowan noticed, he never gave it away. His green eyes were piercing, watching her with rapt attention. He could have been a stone statue if not for the occasional rise and fall of his shoulders.

Moving to the next piece, her fingers glided across the keys, caressing them in near reverence, like one would caress a lover after long being separated. Tendrils of blond hair slipped forward, partially obscuring her view of the man sitting opposite her. The wisp of privacy came at the perfect time—the crescendo was up.

Furiously, her fingers danced upon ivory and gold with precision, the familiar ache settling into her hands and shoulders. Uncertainty, grief, life—it ceased to exist as Aelin gave all of herself to the keys. It wasn’t until the last beautiful note filled the air with a resounding resonance that she let herself breathe.

Silence, the cliché type where you could hear a pin drop, settled heavily across the room. Rowan was still sitting there, wordless, jaw resting against a balled fist, watching her with an undecipherable gaze. Had she not played as well as she thought? Was he trying to find the words to critique it? Critique her? Vulnerability and anxiety came on swift wings, like thieves in the night, whisking away her joy.

His opinion should not matter, especially under the circumstances now encompassing their friendship, but it did. Rowan’s opinion perhaps mattered more than anyone’s and she hated he had that power over her. It was power she gave him, but the heart was a fickle, stubborn thing, particularly the one housed beneath her own twelve pairs of ribs. It did not adhere to the principles of logic, not now, not ever.

The statue broke from his confines, leaning forward, bracing both elbows on his knees, hands steepled. He remained quiet, his gaze still just as studious as it had been the entirety of her playing. If he didn’t say something, Aelin’s nerves were going to split apart. Vulnerability was making her it’s entire three course meal.

His warm timber reached her ears, and she stood in anticipation before he’d even said two words. He gave a faint laugh. “I think your piano needs tuning.”

Six words have never been so defeating. The small kernel of joy that had roared to life instantly snuffed out, leaving as though it had never been there in the first place. The traitorous burn along her lower lids meant tears were welling up, preparing to fall down, like water from a broken dam. Aelin prayed to the gods for the floor to split open and swallow her whole; it would be a mercy compared to this.

Angered, she roughly wiped away the moisture, pinning the silver-haired man with her gold and turquoise stare. “If you didn’t like it, you could have just lied to my face. It took every ounce of will I could muster to sit down and play for you and the only comment you can make is antagonistic? You can be a real godsdamned asshole sometimes, Ro.”

His brow furrowed and he took a step back, hitting the chair causing it to squeak sharply in protest against the oak floor. There was just enough space for her to run by him and Aelin seized the opportunity. His warm hand encircled her left bicep, stopping her before she could get out of the sitting room completely.

“Aelin, stop.”

She fought against his hold, refusing to turn and face him. His pressure became a little firmer, not enough to hurt, but enough to cease almost all of the fight. Calloused fingers twirled the errant tendrils of hair along her face and neck, and as though he had done it a thousand times prior, he tucked the hair behind her ear, tracing the shell of her ear softly.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you. I didn’t know what to say. Everything that I was thinking just seemed so trivial and underwhelming. Inadequate.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There are moments in life that define who you are. Moments that break and remake you all in the same breath. Moments that will be written on your bones for others to see long after you’re dead. Moments that you’ll spend the rest of your life wishing you could revisit them because nothing will ever be as sweet.”

He was whispering now, hushed, like he didn’t want any part of the world to hear him. Secrets and words were powerful currency. Both could be used at a moment’s notice to bring someone to their knees. Aelin had learned that with the death of her parents, Arobynn’s betrayal, Aedion’s strangled pleas as she shut the door on him. If you never gave words life or shared secrets—then they could never be used against you.

“You can’t keep cutting my legs out from underneath me to protect yourself.”

“Aelin, that wasn’t my intention at all. I thought you’d call me on my bullshit with some line about how the piano wasn’t out of tune or something.”

“I showed you my underbelly. I know you could tell I was nervous. Do you really think a joke was the appropriate response?”

He snorted. “Well, now I don’t.”

Exasperation zipped up her spine and she pulled hard against his hold. If he wanted to be a prick to someone, it wasn’t going to be her. Rowan adjusted his hold before slipping his other arm around her, holding her tight to his chest. She struggled but stopped when it became apparent he wasn’t going to let up. She didn’t have to see his handsome face to know he was wearing a smug smile as he rested his chin on her head.

“I think that if I could bottle up that moment, I’d never know another sorrow for the rest of my life.”

The confession had been unexpected and brutally honest. The vulnerability in his words was profoundly tangible. A feeling all too familiar. The tension left her body as Aelin relaxed into him, taking time to process what he had said before she responded. Words, they mattered, and while he wasn’t hers, it felt like right now he was. In another life, she could turn to him and capture his lips with her own in a silent conveyance of how she felt. They were two faces of the same coin, different, beautiful apart, but whole together.

But Hellas himself would have to drag that secret out of her. No acknowledgement meant no control. This life had enough influence on her; she couldn’t afford to give it anymore. So instead of saying and doing what she wanted, she offered him a small thank you that tasted rancid on her tongue.

He continued to hold her; his strong arms wrapped comfortably tight. His shirt had moved up his arms a bit, showing off tanned skin, and the whorls of his tattoo. Later, she promised herself, she would ask him what it all said and meant. A handful of the words were known to her, but the archaic language had fallen out of favor years before her time.

“Do you think we should help with the decorations?” his question vibrated across her back.

“Why should I help with my apology gift, defeats the purpose doesn’t it?”

“Always with the smart mouth,” he declared with a pinch to her side.

“It’s part of my charm.”

“I mean if that’s what you want to call it.”

“You know what, you get to put up the 26ft tree up outside. By yourself.”

“You promise?”

He sounded too excited at the prospect. “Better yet, I’ll send Manon to help you.”

Rowan’s arms dropped from around her and he stepped into the doorway, wide-eyed.

“Snow leopard got your tongue?” Aelin’s smirk was threatening to split her face in two.

“I will take anyone else. She’s scary,” he fake whispered, looking over his shoulder while he said it.

“I know. I think it’ll be good for you.”

“I had another idea in mind.”

“Go on,” she encouraged.

“I was thinking you could help me. I won’t make you do any heavy lifting, and you can insult me the entire time.”

“It’s not enough. What else?”

“What else?” he said slightly taken aback.

“Mhmm, what else?” She thoroughly enjoyed how panicked he looked as he wracked his brain to come up with something agreeable.

“I’ll bring you an entire chocolate hazelnut cake the next time I come by the shop.”

“But you’ve already brought me some before. Try again.”

He ran a hand through his hair, displacing some of the silver locks. Her eyes followed and it was then she knew what she wanted.

“You can let me braid your hair?”

He suspiciously sounded like he was choking before falling into a small coughing fit. Aelin had got him, satisfaction rolling through her.

“One time. This is a one-time deal because I fucked up a lot recently and I’d do just about anything to make you smile.

“Well, I chose wisely then. We better go drag tree out of the carriage house. And check on everyone else, because it’s too quiet and with Dorian around, that’s never a good thing.”

Rowan gestured towards the foyer, allowing her the chance to head first into the chaos.

Surprisingly, most of the upstairs had been decorated and the bannisters had been wrapped in garlands. When Rowan and Aelin had surveyed everyones’ work, both shared a look of guilt at not having helped. Connall and Vaughn had moved the big boxes for them and hadn’t been seen since. Rowan asked if they needed any other heavy lifting done, but Lys, Manon, and Elide waved them off.

Taking the back set of stairs down, they wandered into the kitchen, to find Vaughn flipping through several cookbooks laid out on the counters, writing things down on a scratch paper. “Do you have a zester?” he asked without looking up.

“I should, in one of those drawers. What are you doing?”

“Well, someone has to make Yulemas Eve dinner, Aelin,” he replied like it should have been glaringly obvious.

“I normally just have takeout and pretend the day doesn’t exist,” she admitted quietly.

“Aelin?”

“Yeah, Con?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but get out of the kitchen.”

She questioningly looked up at Rowan and mouthed, “Was it something I said?”

He jerked his head towards the back door and out they went. “He takes food very seriously. He loves to cook for everyone, and he eats pretty clean. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him eat takeout. He’ll eat at restaurants but spends twenty minutes picking apart the menu before eating. Its rather cumbersome.”

“So, it was something I said,” she chuckled.

“Can you two shut up or go somewhere else?” a displeased, muffled voice asked. Both turned and noted Dorian happily smothered beneath two dogs on the porch swing. Rowan had brought Elliot. She smiled to herself—it was sweet he loved his dog the way she loved Fleetfoot.

“I thought you were helping with decorations, not sleeping your highness.”

“I was in the way and Fen said I was too whiny. Besides, Lorcan showed up looking angry and pushed me off the ladder. I wasn’t going to get into it with that guy. He’d eat me for breakfast or use me as snow leopard bait.”

“And to think you’re supposed to be taking over running Adarlan.”

“Well, when I take it over, I can order someone to deal with unpleasantries like that man. Or manual labor. You know I was built to supervise.”

People told Aelin she was dramatic, which she was. But somehow, she knew they’d find another adjective to describe her antics if they had to put up with Dorian. He was lovable, fiercely loyal, fun, a good listener, but nauseatingly theatrical without much effort or thought.

“If you change your mind and get tired of lying with the dogs, we’ll be out front putting up the tree.” Rowan looked like he was ready to bite through his lip to keep from laughing.

It took twenty minutes for them to pull out all the tree boxes from the carriage house and drag them into the front yard. Lorcan and Fen had offered to help but Rowan had politely declined, letting them know if they were needed, he’d get them.

Aelin could tell Rowan was really trying to make up for last night. He’d followed each direction she’d given him to the T and done so without terrorizing her in the process. He didn’t even laugh when she tripped over an errant tree root poking out of the ground and knocked over several boxes, spilling shiny ornaments everywhere.

The tree was halfway done, and she was fluffing the faux branches, waiting for him to return with ladders so they could put the rest up. Once it was put together, they could plug it in, and see what lights needed replacement before deciding on ornament placement. Her mom had always taken ornaments seriously and hung them all herself. It took hours sometimes because she’d take several breaks to step back and look, moving the glass balls accordingly until they were perfect.

Inside, there was a Christmas tree for every room except the bathrooms and kitchen. All differed in size or style, each with their own set of dedicated ornaments. Each Yulemas, Rhoe had gotten both her and her mom a new ornament to be hung on the tree of their choosing. Some were wooden, others blown glass, and on occasion, metal. It had been years, but pain ferociously nipped at the heels of nostalgia made it feel like this was the first Yulemas without them.

In a way it was. The holidays that had been celebrated with Aedion, Gavriel, and Arobynn, had been spent at the latter’s house. It was easier that way. She thought that Arobynn had been doing her a kindness but really it was just to ensure he could keep an eye on everyone. If all ends of the knot were in your hand, nothing could unravel, providing all the reassurance you needed.

Not wanting to be melancholy when Rowan came back, she sidelined her thoughts, returning back to fluffing the branches, doing her best to fill in any bare spots. It was tedious, often cramping her hands, but there was comfort in monotonous activity. Most of it was done, but one particular branch was proving to be a hindrance. A few colorful words escaped as she tipped forward, catching a mouthful of synthetic tree.

“Are you trying to tip the whole thing over?” he asked playfully.

“If that what it takes to get that last branch fluffed, then yes,” she replied stubbornly looking over her shoulder at him.

He tipped his head back, a full-bodied and carefree laugh sounding from him. He looked like the picture she’d been admiring on the bar wall—young and happy. She could only watch him, a smile of her own forming. Rowan was handsome; the most striking man she’d ever seen but nothing compared to this, and Aelin vowed to never let this memory go. He continued to laugh as he walked up and reached above her, righting the troublesome branch.

“Is that better?”

“Yes. If you could have been a minute sooner, I wouldn’t have taken branches to the face.”

“If my defense, the appropriate ladder was in the back of the carriage house, buried under stuff. And it’s heavy. I also stopped to talk to the guys.”

“Uh huh. I just hear excuses.”

A loud squeal escaped her as Rowan’s strong arms picked up and tipped her upside down while tickling her ribs. “Excuses, huh?”

“Ye—.” She tried to speak but he continued his assault, making it too hard to answer.

“What was that? I can understand you. Words, Aelin. Use your words.”

Every time she tried to talk; he tickled her again. Her stomach hurt from laughing and her head felt heavy from being upside down. If she was lucky, he was ticklish, too. She grabbed above his knee and squeezed—he jerked and almost dropped her.

She screamed in half in delight, half in panic. Was tickling him back worth the possibility of being dropped? It wasn’t that far to the ground, but it was far enough. Tickling him won out and she latched onto his knee, squeezing it.

“Hey, stop that!”

“You started it.”

“Don’t make me drop you.”

“I trust you not to.” She smiled deviously. He wouldn’t drop her now, not after she’d said that. The likelihood of him dropping her before was minute, but added reassurance wasn’t bad. She hadn’t counted on him starting to spin. His grip tightened and he spun and spun and spun. Her head was swimming when he stopped. He seemed completely unphased.

Aelin was about to tease him some more when she felt the familiar vibration of a phone. Hers was inside, which meant it was Rowan’s. As though she weighed nothing more than a feather, he continued to brace her body against his with one arm and used his newly freed one to dig in his pocket. His body stiffened as he looked at the screen. Flipping her upright, he set her down and took two steps back, answering the phone.

Eaves dropping was extremely rude, but he was still so close—it was hard not to hear every word of the exchange between them. His silver brow furrowed the longer the conversation continued, and he was intermittently pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Lyria was clearly upset that he hadn’t answered her previously calls or called her back. Then she brought up how he wasn’t “here”. Aelin didn’t know where “here” was, but she did know it wasn’t hanging out with his friends.

“I’m not going to do this with you right now. You’re jumping down my throat and I understand you’re upset, but this isn’t how I want to spend my holiday. I love you and I’m sorry I had a prior commitment. You knew this when you asked me last week.”

Prior commitment? The decorating was last minute, she knew from Elide’s tenuous confession and pleading this morning. So, what had Rowan given up to be here? The mother of his child was currently ripping him a new one, he’d ignored several phone calls, and still, he was in here, instead of doing whatever he was supposed to be doing.

She startled when he said her name. She had missed him hanging up with Lyria. His guarded green gaze met hers and held steady. He was waiting for to ask him what was going on. Most of it didn’t need to be asked about because she heard it, but against her better judgement, she had to ask two questions.

“Where were you supposed to be and why aren’t you with her?”

His angular jaw tensed just enough to let her know he was uncomfortable with what she had asked of him. His left hand clenched into a fist, the tanned skin of his forearm flexing the tattooed whorls. “I’m not with her because I didn’t want to be.”

“But she’s having your baby. And it’s Yulemas tomorrow.”

“Thank you for that astute observation, Aelin.”

“I just don’t understand,” she said plainly. Quietly.

“I was supposed to go to Doranelle early this morning, on a red eye, but I didn’t. She’s mad because I wouldn’t cancel it to go spend the holiday with her and her parents. I’ve spent every Yulemas with my cousins since my parents died.” She knew he’d lost his parents, but he’d never stated is so plainly. Truly, he had said more about himself in those three sentences as he had in as many months of friendship.

“Did you tell her you didn’t go?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“And she’s livid you still didn’t go to her parents.” It should have been a question, but she said it as a statement instead. It was evident from the tense exchange just how upset the dark-haired woman was about his lack of attendance.

“Correct.”

It was apparent that any further explication on the subject was going to be like pulling teeth.

“Did you miss your plane?”

“No,” he answered flat and succinct.

“Did they ask you not to come?”

“Of course not. They were very upset when I called this morning and said I wasn’t coming.”

“Why didn’t you go?” she pushed. It was unfair he always knew what was going on in her head, soliciting more than what she wanted to comfortably give. She didn’t regret trying to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Don’t ask me that Aelin.”

While the please wasn’t audible, she knew it was implied, as was the reason he didn’t go.

Her.

His green eyes were still upon her, narrowing slightly, as he anticipated her next move. She wanted to call him on his unsaid truth. To prod and prod and prod until one of them snapped, the consequences be damned. But she didn’t. He’d shown her the smallest glimpse inside his walls. If her inquisition backfired, he’d never let her in again.

Trust took an irrational amount of time to foster and create but could be forced to ruination in seconds. She would not bring their friendship to the battlefield today. As hard as it was to sit on her hands, it was exactly what she did.

“I think if we don’t hurry up with the tree, it’ll be dark, and we’ll have missed Connall’s cooking.”

Rowan visibly relaxed, like one of the Staghorns had been lifted off his shoulders. “You’re probably right. Fenrys and Lorcan won’t hesitate to eat our food if we’re not there when Con deems its dinner time.”

The rest of the tree took around an hour to put together, Rowan of course doing all the heavy lifting, and much to his chagrin, some branch fluffing while Aelin directed him from the ground. After she had almost fallen off the ladder reaching to fix one of them, he had refused to let her back on, using his body to block her. She was secretly glad; it gave her a chance to watch him unencumbered. His muscled frame, despite being large, moved with graceful ease, keeping him steady 20 plus feet in the air.

Aelin had only seen a small glimpse of the finished decorations and was itching to get up from the dinner table to look, but her friends kept sending judgmental looks her way. Rowan had thought it would be more special to plug in the lights outside once dinner was over, so they could ring in Yulemas as a family—she’d been pouting ever since. The need for instant gratification was on the forefront of her brain.

Now that the decorations were up and finished, the joy she used to feel before her parents’ loss was coming to life, soon to be a roaring fire. Connall had said he was putting the finishing touches on several dishes and waiting for dessert to finish, before dinner would start. It felt like later would never come.

“Would you quit bouncing your leg like a little kid who has to pee?” Lys quietly said into her ear.

“I’m starving and no one will let me look at the decorations.”

“Yes because you got out voted and we’re doing it all together. Not any one person has seen it all.”

“Quit scolding me like a child,” whined Aelin, tipping her head back against the chair. On her left, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rowan’s mouth tip up in a lopsided grin as his gaze flicked away from Fenrys to her. Her pain was the night’s entertainment.

“You’re acting like a toddler right now,” Lysandra tried to sound stern but ended up laughing.

“Lysssssssss.”

“This is why you were an only child. Elide was she this insufferable growing up?”

“Worse. Between her and Aedion, it was constant ego, theatrics, and bad decisions. I’m pretty sure it’s why I ended up being an only child. My mom had to put up with them and then come home to me. I asked for a brother once and she started bringing me to play with them… I didn’t want one after that.”

“It wasn’t that bad, Elide,” Aelin declared indignantly.

The dark-haired woman remained silent, but raised a disbelieving eyebrow and stared her down. Aedion and Aelin had been menaces to her parents, Elide’s mother Marion, and Gavriel, but Elide had been their partner in crime too many times to count. Aelin would let the rest of the table believe Elide the angel she appeared to be, for now.

“Aelin, why don’t you go decorate the tree in your bedroom? I left a box with your name on it sitting on the bed. It was full of ornaments,” chimed in Manon as she walked in from the kitchen, a newly poured glass of red wine in hand.

“You found my tree?”

Manon snorted, the wine almost sloshing over the side of her glass when she did so. “It was hard to miss. Giant scrawl was all over the two boxes declaring it was your tree and the decorations that went with it. You guys really love Yulemas in this house.”

“Yeah we did,” she agreed, renewed nostalgia setting in. A heavy hand landed on her bouncing leg, giving her knee a brief, reassuring squeeze. Her blue eyes flicked over to Rowan’s, and he inclined his head towards the door, motioning for her to go.

She weaved out of the room and out the front dining room entrance, ending up at stairs closet to her room. Halfway up, a second set of footfalls joined in hers, and without turning, she knew it was Rowan. The outside tree and being present today, had been apology enough, but if he wanted to watch her agonize over perfect placement for her tree, then she’d let him.

The box on her bed was open, ratty cardboard flaps revealing some of her most prized possessions. Twenty-one years of her life could be found in this box. Every year, her father would present her mother and her with handpicked ornaments. It was tradition to open them on Yulemas Eve and then hang them on the tree at midnight.

Manon had set the tree to the right of her fireplace. It stood tall and naked in front of her bookshelf. Eagerly, she stuck her hand into the box of brightly colored tissue paper, pulling out a wrapped ball. Instant tears welled in her eyes as she unwrapped it. A flaming red heart sat nestled in her hand. It had been the last one her father had gotten for her and the most meaningful Yulemas gift she’d ever received.

A silent tear rolled down her cheek, dripping onto the tissue paper, darkening it. Another one followed. She knew it was in here but hadn’t expected it to be the very first one out of the box. She could feel his presence heavy at her side, probably wondering she was looking at her hands like they held the world.

She sniffed, her runny nose making very unlady like noises, “My dad got my mom and I handmade ones every year. We’d open them the night before Yulemas and hang them on the tree at midnight, signifying the start of our favorite day of the year. This one, it was the last one he got me before they died.”

“Aelin, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s what they used to call me. Fireheart.”

“Very fitting.”

“Not anymore. I don’t even know that girl.”

“I do,” he said quietly before slipping it from her hands and hanging it on a branch towards the top.

Aelin wanted to argue with him, to tell him that the girl she used to be was just as dead as her parents. She had been a force, burning brightly—unapologetically herself. There wasn’t a mountain she couldn’t conquer. She had been someone who never needed anyone, who didn’t cry at the drop of a hat, and had never doubted herself.

Now, she was nothing but a field of ash, burned and unrecognizable.

He held out his hand, waiting for her to hand him another, and she did methodically until the box was empty. It was stunning, each placed just right. The tree could have been in a magazine, reminding her of the days when Evalin had spent hours adorning the trees to the same standard.

Rowan’s tall frame dropped to the floor, and he plugged in the tree, illuminating the room. The heart at the top had been strategically placed, backlit by a bulb, giving the illusion it was actually burning. He leaned into her legs, his head resting against her hip as they stared at the tree.

“Sometimes, we all just need a little light.” The statement was weighted and required no elaboration, clearly a nod to her earlier confession. She dropped her hand to his head, idly running her fingers through the loose, silver strands. He had taken his hair out of its bun earlier, in anticipation of her braiding it, but they had never gotten around to it. It would have to be done at a later date; he would not get off scot-free.

“Dinner!” a cacophony of loud voices rang out from somewhere beyond the walls of her bedroom. Hastily, the pair separated, several feet of distance now between them. Shame felt heavy in the pit of her stomach as she stared at Rowan, who was conveniently looking at books on the shelf nearest him.

It might not have been the embrace of lovers, but the moment had been just as intimate, if not more. He was spoken for, a father-in-the-making, and situations like this, shouldn’t be happening. Aelin was to Rowan as a moth was to a flame—inexplicably drawn, despite the promise of a tragic outcome.

Moving forward, she would have to religiously remind herself that traipsing the fine line between friends and something more was not in the best interest of anyone involved. Too many cards were in play, and she did not yet possess a winning hand. With one last look, she strolled out of the room and rushed down the stairs, eagerly returning to her earlier seat.

Elide gave her a questioning look when she sat down alone. She shrugged her shoulders, reaching for whatever dish was closest to her. Later, one of her friends would corner her, demanding answers about her quality time spent with the silver-haired male. They were all a bunch of gossips, yet, if she shoe were on the other foot, she’d be acting the same. Secrets were the glue that helped bind friendships together.

Con had out done himself. The table was laden with various dishes from one side to the other. There was no way she was going to be able to try it all. She plopped a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes on the white and gold plate in front her and then followed it with carved pieces of turkey. A basket of rolls was making its way around but was rudely intercepted by Rowan’s big hand as he swiped one before sitting down.

“Looks like that was the last one, Aelin,” shared Dorian with a sympathetic look. He set the empty basket down and all she could do was stare at it, letting out a loud and dramatic sigh.

“There’s another batch baking. The rolls always go first,” called Con from the opposite end. It didn’t make it better. She had wanted one now. Instant gratification and all.

“Here,” he said warmly, his tattooed hand placing half a roll onto her plate. Melted butter glistened on the top and her ire softened, just slightly, at his gesture. Her turquoise eyes followed his hand’s retreat, a tingling, heavy sensation forming low in her stomach when he licked the butter from his fingers. Her thighs clenched together, a poor attempt at quelling the wayward response her body was having to such an innocuous act.

The gods were testing her. As if last night’s conversation or today’s Yulemas decorating had not been enough, now they were dangling a hot, hot man who she couldn’t touch right in front of her. Perhaps, she should attend Temple and pray to Kiva for atonement or to Lumas’, whose birthday was tomorrow… he was the God of Love afterall.

“I think we should go around and say one thing we’re grateful for or that we hope happens in the next year. Seems more fun than the traditional grace said at Holidays,” suggested Vaughn.

“Oh, I love this!” Dorian declared excitedly, dropping his napkin into his lap, and sitting up straight. His blue eyes were sparkling. “I’m grateful I’m spending this holiday with great friends.”

“That is so lame,” Manon declared dryly. Her unnaturally yellow eyes were pinned on Dorian, daring him refute her.

“It may be lame, but it’s true. I usually spend today and Yulemas with my family and Chaol. It’s nice to do something different with people who don’t tell me how much of a screw up I am. Or who don’t rant incessantly about mutual friends.” His gaze flicked to Aelin’s when he said the last part; apology was etched into his face.

“Well, we’re honored to be the better choice,” Fenrys said, raising his glass to Dorian before tipping it back. “I’m grateful for the beautiful life I get to live, and I hope this next year continues to bring good things to me and my.” Collective nods and smiles spread around the table.

“I’m grateful that Vaughn finally asked me out,” declared Conall with a grin so wide, it crinkled his eyes so much they almost looked shut. Vaughn leaned over, placing a sweet but chaste kiss against his lips.

“Me too, you’re the best part of my day.”

“Can we save some of the sweet for dessert? My teeth are rotting out just looking at you two.”

“She has to eat children for breakfast,” Dorian whispered, looking slightly frightened.

“I heard that,” Manon replied drolly. She took a large sip of wine from her glass, keeping the raven-haired male pinned with her glare. Aelin found it too amusing how much the woman liked to torture Dorian. He always acted as though at any second he was going to be disemboweled by her hands. Honestly, that seemed a little messy… she seemed the type to just snap someone’s neck and step over the body, unbothered.

“I’m grateful for the success of The Thirteenth.”

Lys coughed pointedly. Manon sighed, “I’m grateful for my friends. I guess you all are pretty cool.”

“Glad we rank somewhere in your life,” Lys laughed. “I’m grateful for Fleetfoot and I hope that by this time next year, I have something like Connall and Vaughn.” Despite being a top figure in the modeling world and successful in her own right, Lysandra had struggled in the romance department. It seemed to Aelin that most guys just saw a pretty face and became disinterested when they learned she actually had brains to accompany the beauty.

“I’m not doing this,” Lorcan vowed stone-faced.

“Yes you are,” argued Elide. Her dark eyes fiercely meeting his. A silent conversation passed between the pair, ending with the large, brooding male’s shoulders sagging in defeat.

“I’m grateful for my brothers and for ‘Lide.” He didn’t smile at his admission. In fact, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here at the dinner table.

Elide rested her head against Lorcan’s arm, smiling to herself. The appeal of their relationship was lost on Aelin. Lorcan seemed about as fun as running naked through thorn bushes or fighting a Ghost Leopard with only your bare hands.

“I’m grateful I twisted my ankle. I’ve never been glad to be clumsy until this year.”

There it was. Aelin had never actually asked Elide how she’d found Lorcan. Obviously, there were more details, but it seemed the angry man had a penchant for damsels in distress.

The table looked expectedly at her and Rowan, waiting for one of them to go. The food they’d plated was likely cold and the rolls were probably burning. It was worth it though, to hear all the sappy things that holidays brought to light.

“I’m fortunate to have irreplaceable friends and a proclivity for quality literature.” He didn’t bother to look at anyone else, his stormy green gaze focused on her. The conviction of his admission sent her heart skittering. A pink flush colored her cheeks, partly because it felt like he was stripping her bare and because there was an audience to his veil remark. The aforementioned line was growing finer by the minute.

Eager to redirect the focus of the table back to the task at hand, she didn’t acknowledge him. “I’m most grateful that I don’t have to sit alone at rock bottom. And for the grace you have all shown me as I try to find myself, again and again. Thank you for being the kindling that keeps my fire going.”

“Here, here,” cheered Fenrys loudly, his smile infectious. Aelin felt an answering one spread wide across her face. “Now let’s eat because there’s a whole lot of lights waiting for us.”

And eat they did; what started as a daunting amount of food, hardly seemed like it was going to be enough at the end. Aelin hadn’t kept company with men who could eat like that since her cousin and uncle. Every single one of them was fit, with hardly any body fat to their name, and likely their insatiable appetite stemmed from their active lifestyles. Dorian, for as high maintenance as he was, worked out several times a week. He blamed it on having an “image” to uphold.

Aelin was so uncomfortable, bloated like a fat tick, that she did not even have room to eat the chocolate hazelnut croissants sitting in front of her. Connall had found the recipe starred with a note declaring “Aelin’s favorite”. She’d probably have a good cry later after everyone left whilst eating one in the dark. Maybe if she was feeling terribly masochistic, she’d open the book, and run her fingers over the words written down. Would she feel the echoes of a mother’s love in the indented script? Would there be greasy fingerprints staining the pages? Would she hear the laughing chastisement of her dad as reminded her she had to wait for them to cool? What ghosts would creep in the dead of night?

“If I don’t walk around and digest this food, I’m simply going to perish right here.” Dorian was splayed out in his chair, looking pitiful, eyes pinched shut.

“Then get up. Your decomposing corpse will stain my floors.”

“Rude. You’d just let me rot right there?” he asked exasperated now staring at the floor.

Aelin shrugged, unabashed. “You’re too heavy for me to move.”

His eyes grew wide, hand flying to his chest in horror. “I know you did not just call me fat.”

“If you weren’t so vain, you wouldn’t have taken it like that.”

“That’s rich, the pot calling the kettle black.”

She laughed loudly, amusement sinking in. “I never said I wasn’t vain. Besides my dead body would be easier to move.”

“Again, with the fat jokes.”

“What cheerful Yulemas conversation: rotting bodies,” deadpanned Lorcan.

“You two are such children,” Lysandra observed. It sounded like she was trying to reprimand them, but the entertained look on her face said otherwise.

“He started it.”

“Aelin, stop,” Elide begged, dragging out the ‘p’ dramatically.

Huffing, she rolled her eyes, and closed her mouth, the rebuttal sadly dying on her tongue.

“Well, it’s almost midnight, so we better hurry through, so we can make it outside to plug the tree in when it’s officially midnight. Let the tour commence,” Elide sing-songed, clapping her hands together. One at a time, they filed out of the living room, through the kitchen, and into the living room. Both Fleetfoot and Eliot were asleep under the large Christmas tree that occupied one corner. The tree was decorated in only white ornaments, the clear lights slowly fading in and out, casting a warm glow throughout the room. It was so cliché, but perfect, nonetheless.

The exited the living room and made it back to the back stairs, the banister wrapped in frosted pine garlands with red bows. A small Christmas tree was nestled between the bathroom and closet doors. They followed Elide up the stairs, poking their heads in the decorated upstairs rooms, enjoying how each tree had its own theme.

Manon had decorated the front porch balcony, a beautiful tree in the middle, wreaths hung from the windows, and garlands with bright red, velvet bows decorated the columns. The downstairs porch carried the same décor, sans the tree. Both trees in the formal sitting room and piano room could be seen from the windows—perks of having 6ft windows in all the rooms.

They headed down the front set of stairs and took a moment to look closer at the trees in the sitting and piano room. The fireplaces were decorated with pine garlands with candied fruit slices strung along them instead of bows. It smelled liked mulled cider with a citrusy note. Aelin couldn’t have asked for a better group of friends. She knew that Elide had been the mastermind behind the decorations and today. After all, she’d really been the only one around to know how it used to be, to know how much care Evalin had put into the whole craft.

Her eyes burned with unsaid emotion. Today had been exactly what she had needed. These decorations, these friends, these new memories… they helped lessen the ache that had griped her heart mercilessly tight for almost a decade. Grief had been holding her head under water for so long, it was difficult to know how to come up for air.

Her ribcage expanded as she pulled in a deep breath and then exhaling, enjoying how it didn’t quite feel so heavy anymore to do so. “Thank you. It seems so paltry a gesture compared to this—,” she gestured to their surroundings, “but it’s the best way I know how right now.”

“Seeing your eyes light up has been all the thanks I needed. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you look like that,” Lys replied, slipping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She relaxed her head against her friend, enjoying the peaceful silence that had befallen them.

“Hate to ruin the moment, but its 11:58, and there’s a tree that needs lighting.” Thank the gods Connall was paying attention.

Hastily, they bounded out the front door, off the porch, and out into the yard. The unlit tree towered high into the night, the top barely visible. They stood together, merriment and anticipation freely flowing. The tree flickered to life with an audible buzzing sound. Aelin squinted, her eyes attempting to adjust to the bright radiance. Her and Rowan had done an amazing job. The ornaments were visible, some almost looking like they were lit themselves, the bulbs glowing against them.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed or even if it was. Truthfully, it felt like time was standing still—the moment felt infinite as they stood there, heads craned back, eyes wide with wonder. Yulemas, was a god’s birthday, but it was also a day of celebration and togetherness. A day for unbridled joy. An unspoken agreement with the universe that worries and troubles didn’t matter. No bad things could happen because just for one day, the gods hit pause on it all.

“Happy Yulemas.”

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Aelin was wrapped in her favorite blanket, sitting on the porch, still basking in the tree’s light. She had missed its presence more than she had known and now that it was up, the idea of leaving it to sleep, caused an ache in her chest. All of her friends, except one, had left hours ago. She didn’t know the exact time, but it late, the horizon staring to lighten just barely, signaling dawn wasn’t too far off.

It was supposed to snow, but the sky was clear, not a whisp of clouds in the sky. The air was heavy and still though, the smell of frost tickling her nose. Having a white Yulemas would be wonderous, especially with the house done up in spectacular fashion. It had been years since Orynth had been graced by snow on Lumas’ birthday.

“I have something for you.” His sleepy voice startled her. When she had last looked at him, he had been sleeping peacefully, Elliot curled into his side on the wooden bench.

Her gaze flicked over to him, noting that while she had been staring off, wishing for snow, he had sat up, folded his blanket, and pulled back his hair into a bun. She really needed to work on her observation skills, if only for self-preservation.

“It’s in the truck,” he said as he stood and extended a hand to her.

As content as she was wrapped up like a burrito, she uncurled herself, and slipped her hand into his. It was warm and calloused and much larger than her own. He didn’t let go even when she was to her feet and Aelin knew she should pull her hand back, but she didn’t. For just five minutes, it would be okay to pretend that there was nothing wrong with holding his hand. No lines were being blurred or crossed or ignored. He was just a guy and she was just a girl.

Elliot faithfully trotted behind them, stuck to Rowan like glue. Her own dog, had refused to come outside, choosing to lay in front of the fire. Fleetfoot was spoiled and it showed. They did say people often picked dogs like themselves.

Rowan opened the driver side door and dug around, only dropping her hand when he had to lean further across the bench seat. He stepped out of the door, allowing for Elliot to jump up into the truck—which caused her to deflate a little inside because it meant he was leaving. She wasn’t sure if she was dreading finally being alone or dreading him leaving.

He shut the door and leaned back against it. Holding is hand up between them, a small brown box with a gold bow sat on his open palm. When she didn’t immediately grab it, he stepped closer, their bodies almost touching. If she took even half a step, angled her head just so, their lips would be flush, and that was the only thing running through her brain.

When he spoke, his breath warmed her lips, “Are you going to open it, or do you have x-ray vision and haven’t told me?”

Embarrassment and shame coursed through her veins. Kissing him was the absolute last thing she should be contemplating. Her hand quickly relieved him of the package, and she took a step back, opening it. Reaching in, she hooked a green ribbon with her finger and pulled up.

Fleetfoot. A dog had been carved out of wood, collar, and everything, and stained to appear just like her own.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed quietly. A tear streaked down her right cheek.

Before she even registered him move, his hand was cupping her jaw, and he was swiping away the tear with his thumb. A small amount of pressure applied forced her to look at him. He stared intently at her, and she suddenly didn’t know how to breathe.

“I carved it from a piece of wood I cut that day you were at my house. I almost took my thumb off a few times. It was hard to get her just right.”

“It seems like it would be hard to whittle something with so much detail.”

Rowan opened his mouth a few times but said nothing. He seemed to be struggling internally with himself, his brow furrowing quite noticeably for it being so dark and hard to see features in any great detail. Frustrated with his silence, she huffed, “What?”

“When you told me about your Yulemas tradition earlier in your bedroom, I thought to myself how fortuitous it was that I had spent weeks on this thing for you. Out of all the things, I’d carved you something to be hung on a tree.” His hand slowly down her neck, his words barely above a whisper. The drag of his hot hand against her cooled flesh sent shivers down her spine, straight to core. Aelin’s self-control was fraying like a worn rope, soon too many fibers would break, and it would snap all together, ending with her doing something incredibly rash.

Sucking in a ragged breath, she dropped her gaze, and counted to ten, a pitiful attempt to ground her thoughts. His hand remained against her neck, the tip of his thumb grazing the straight plane of her jawbone. She wondered if he could feel her pulse racing or the flushed heat of her skin against his open palm.

“I love my gift, Ro. I’ll hang it on my tree when I go inside.”

He suddenly pulled her close without hesitation, the end of her promise muffled by his muscled chest. Pine and snow deliciously filled her nose she tucked her face in a little tighter. She could feel his hands playing with the tips of her hair and the unmistakable press of lips against the crown of her head.

“Happy Yulemas, Fireheart.”

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Tag list:

@lunadorned @theresyourfireandblood @backtobl4ck @leiawritesstories @morganofthewildfire @rowaelinismyotp @jorjy-jo @theresyourfireandblood @numbers-colors-fashion @swankii-art-teacher @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @stardelia @astra-ad-mare

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sp00kybimb0 · 1 year ago

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Dark plum yulemas decorations I made this year 🖤

my Insta: birdybirdy0

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lulughna · 2 months ago

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#christmas gifts #yulemas #gifts from my partners #monster high dolls #fashion girl #fashion dolls #pikachu

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leiawritesstories · 2 months ago

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I Won't Call It Love, Part 1

hi @shyvioletcat!!! happy rowaelin yulemas!!! you love baby fics and idiots to lovers so...here's both of those tropes! This is part 1 of probably 2 parts :))

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: NSFW, swearing, reference to infertility, pregnancy

Enjoy!!!

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“Hey.” Tucked into Rowan’s side, snug under the blankets that spilled out of the hammock, Aelin tipped her face up, catching her boyfriend’s eyes. Boyfriend. Gods, it still made her giddy to call him that, the title they’d settled on so recently.

“Hey.” Beneath the blankets, his hand slid lazily from her waist down to her hip, fingertips just barely grazing the dip of her spine. “What's up?”

She let out a soft sigh and curled closer into his warmth, watching the embers of the campfire flicker out. “I like this.”

“Me too.” He grinned at her, a flash of wickedness edging his expression, and tugged her more solidly onto his lap. “I like it a whole lot.”

“You’re a bad, bad boy, Rowan Whitethorn,” she teased, arching her hips ever so slightly into the thickness she felt pressing up into her from below. “I thought we agreed to keep this casual.”

His hand on her back grew heavy, and he pressed her hips into his in a slow, languid roll. “Does keeping it casual mean I can’t touch you like this, Ae?” He dipped his head, breathed a feather-soft kiss behind her ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I…no,” she managed to gasp, lost already in the feel of his hands on her skin. She’d had dreams like this for years. “We talked about that, Ro.” The teasing lilt returned to her tone, and she sat up enough to playfully flick his nose. “We’re casual, but we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, and as long as we’re together, we’re only with each other.” A brief, haunted spark danced through her eyes, gone as soon as it appeared. “And if we decide this doesn’t work, then we go back to being friends. Right?”

“Right.” He tugged her slowly back down against him. “But you didn’t answer my question, Ae. Do you want me to stop?” Her hips nestled into his once again, and she barely suppressed the moan that sprang up her throat at the feel of his cock pressing into her.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “I—mmh, Rowan.” Her thoughts garbled into nonsense. She’d buried her feelings long enough.

He smirked into her neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. “Whatever you say, princess.”

A moment of clarity broke through her lust-clouded thoughts. “Ro, I—mmh—we’re in a hammock, buzzard. This definitely isn’t stable enough.” She sucked in a jagged breath, let one hand drag down his side and dip into the waistband of his sweatpants. “Not for the things I want you to do to me.”

“Fuck, Aelin,” he groaned, catching her wrist before she could warp her fingers around his dick. In one smooth roll, he was out of the hammock, and he hoisted her into his arms without effort. “And what kind of things…are those, hmm?”

She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips up against his ear as he kicked open the door to the cabin. “Filthy things.”

“Good girl,” he rasped out, lengthening his strides and crossing the small, open-concept cabin in barely three steps and splaying her out on the bed.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Ro,” she teased, sitting up so she could kick off her shoes and pants. Before she could roll her sweats off her legs, he stopped her, heat burning in his eyes. “Having second thoughts?”

“Hardly.” He threw his sweatshirt across the cabin floor, his shoes following. “I want to do it.”

She raised a brow. “That’s the whole point, buzzard.”

“Not like that,” he huffed, catching the mirth in her eyes. “Like this.” He skated his warm hands up her sides, tugging her sweatshirt up as he went. And he stopped short, sucking in a gasp and staring at her breasts.

Her bare breasts.

“What?” She shrugged irreverently. “I don’t like wearing a bra when I’m in my comfy clothes.” With a wink, she added, “And I might have had a plan for this little trip.”

“Did you, now?” His eyes dilated into darkness as he tugged her sweatshirt off and threw it across the floor, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants. “What kind of plan, love?”

“This kind.” She smirked, then gasped as he dipped his hand between her thighs, his thumb finding her clit with remarkable speed even through her little scrap of lacy panties. “Yes, Rowan. Yes.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, and tugged her sweats off with one hand while the other continued to draw lazy circles over her clit.

She groaned his name and wrapped one hand around his wrist, leading his fingertips inside her panties. He caught her gaze, a question written in his look, and she nodded her confirmation as she reached up to kiss him. Rowan braced himself on his free arm and kissed her slowly, his tongue tangling lazily with hers, and she sighed into the kiss as her body melted into the mattress beneath the hard press of his. Unbidden, his fingers curled against her pussy, and she nodded breathlessly, her hips shifting against him.

“Show me what you like, Ae,” he breathed, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties and sliding them off of her.

“That might be the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she chuckled. Her humor rapidly gave way to a moan as she trailed her fingers down her body, curling around her sensitive nipples and drifting to her wet pussy. She traced patterns on her clit with one hand and let the other slip down, dipping two fingers into herself and watching Rowan’s cock strain through his boxers as he watched her fingers sink effortlessly into her cunt. “Like this,” she managed to say, moving her fingers at an increasing pace, twisting and curling them inside herself.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, and he pulled her fingers out of her pussy and replaced them with his thicker ones. He licked her wet fingers, his eyes rolling at her taste, and curled his fingers upward, matching the rhythm of her fingers on her clit.

“Fuck me,” she moaned, rocking her hips into his touch. “Can I?” Her free hand reached towards his cock, and he nodded as he slipped a third finger into her cunt.

“Yes.”

“Oh…fuck,” she gasped, going speechless at the sight of his dick. She pushed his boxers off completely and traced a soft touch up the underside of his thick, hard cock, making him grunt and jerk towards her touch. “Are we…?”

“Don’t worry.” His fingers hit a spot that had her seeing stars, and she gasped his name. “That’s right, love, tell me who’s making you feel like this.” She wrapped her fist around his dick and stroked, and he tipped his head back and groaned. “So good, love. Yes. It’s gonna fit.”

She looked like she was about to protest, so he swallowed her next words with his tongue in her mouth and curled his fingers, and a tremor rocked her body. “I…Rowan, I’m…”

“Come for me, love,” he whispered into her neck, and she clenched around his fingers and did just that. He worked her through it, stopping to catch her hand and lift it from his cock. “Fuck, Ae, if you keep that up I won’t last thirty seconds.”

She laughed quietly, still catching her breath from the orgasm. “Ah, Ro, I think you have better stamina than that.”

“Damn right I do, Ae.” He kissed her softly and cupped her tits in his hands, the calluses on his fingers scraping gently against the delicate skin. She moaned, her body writhing against his, and he smirked. “Ready?”

“For you?” Her smile went soft. “Yeah. I’ve been ready for a long time.”

“Fuck, Fireheart.” His thumb skated up the curve of her cheek. “I think I’ve had dreams where you said that to me.” He notched his hips into hers, his dick nestling against her slick pussy. “I—wait! Fuck. Condom?”

A shade of sorrow passed through her eyes. “It’s fine, Ro. I’ve pretty much been told that I can’t get pregnant.”

“Aelin,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, love.”

She shook her head. “It’s alright, Rowan. There’s lots of ways to have a family.” As she said that, his dick nudged her cunt, and she chuckled. “Someone’s eager.”

“Fucking right, someone’s eager,” he returned. She guided his dick to her entrance, and he rolled his hips, slowly fitting himself inside her. “Gods.”

“Fuck,” she gasped, breathless at the sensation. “So full.”

He groaned, a garbled rendition of her name, and at her nod, started to move. He drove his hips into hers, once, twice, and…well. “Fucking gods, Ae!” He cried out her name and came inside of her after less than a minute.

Silence stretched between them.

Then Aelin turned her head sideways on the pillows and burst out laughing, Rowan’s dick still inside of her. “Oh gods,” she gasped through her laughter. “When I said I wanted you to do filthy things with me, love, I didn’t mean for you to two-pump chump it.”

Rowan blushed scarlet, but a chuckle escaped him despite his efforts. “I’m never like this,” he groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Fuck me.”

Aelin chuckled and pushed herself up to kiss him. “There’s more than one way to make a woman orgasm, as you know.” She winked wickedly at him. “Lucky for you, I brought a battery-powered boyfriend.”

“You really did have plans, didn’t you?” He finally pulled out, and he reached over and picked up her toy from the nightstand.

“I did indeed.” She let her legs splay apart. “You gonna just make me lay here?”

“I could.” He smirked. “But I won’t. C’mere, gorgeous.”

The late-September breeze raised a soft pink on Aelin’s cheeks, but it wasn’t cold enough for her to start wearing a jacket yet. The bells on the coffee shop’s door tinkled as she swept in, waved at Elide behind the bar, and headed towards her and Lysandra’s usual table.

“You’re late, babe,” Lys said, raising a perfectly threaded brow. “Did that man of yours keep you up late?”

“You’re the worst,” Aelin grumbled, gratefully taking a sip of the latte in front of her. “I walked here from the office, you know.”

Lys snickered. “I’m just giving you shit, Ae. But I do want to know.” She widened her green eyes and propped her chin on her hands. “Because if he hurts you, I’ll rip his dick off.”

“That’s graphic,” Aelin drawled. “And we’re…” She trailed off, a glow that had nothing to do with the fall air brightening her face. “We’re great. I won't say it yet, but I think I’m in love.”

Lysandra cheered. “Atta girl! Give me all the dirty details.”

“Freak,” Aelin laughed. “I can’t stay, Lys. I have my appointment in half an hour.”

“Damn,” her best friend sighed. “Fine. We’ll go for drinks later, then?”

“Absolutely.” Aelin picked up her coffee and waved. “I wouldn’t miss Tuesday girls’ night for the world.”

“See you then!” Lys waved as Aelin left the coffee shop.

Aelin went back out to her car, parked a few blocks away. She had yearly appointments with her gynecologist, and she was used to them by now. She’d been seeing Dr. Towers for a good five years, since she was diagnosed with adenomyosis at twenty, and she was glad to have the reassurance of her doctor, even if her condition was a heavy one.

She arrived at the clinic fifteen minutes later, checked in, and waited for a while before the nurse came out and called her name. Aelin followed her back into the exam room, and she set down her bag and went to the restroom. The nurse handed her a small sample cup.

“You know the drill,” she said with a little smile.

Aelin smiled back. “Yep, I’ve been here enough times.” Pregnancy screening was a normal part of every appointment. It had never meant much to her—it still didn’t, not when she and Rowan were only a few months into an official relationship. She took care of things quickly and went back into the exam room, where the nurse took her vitals and went over a few things with her before Dr. Towers came in.

“Hi, Aelin.” The doctor’s usual gentle smile was absent.

Aelin’s brows furrowed. “Is something wrong?”

At that, Dr. Towers broke into a beam. “Not at all.” She set down her laptop and took a pregnancy test out of her pocket.

A very positive pregnancy test.

“You’re pregnant, Aelin.”

The world went silent.

“Th—that’s not possible,” Aelin whispered. She tucked her shaking hands under her legs to hide them from view. “I…are you sure?”

Dr. Towers nodded, holding out the test. “I’m very sure, Aelin.” Sympathy warmed her expression. “Would you like to discuss your options, or do you want to have some time to process? We can schedule another appointment in a week or so if you need some time.” “I think I want some time.” Aelin’s mind began to settle, the one thing that she could fully grasp being Rowan. I need to tell Rowan.

~~~

TAGS:

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#my writing #rowaelin #rowaelin yulemas swap 2024 #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass au #throne of glass fanfic #rowaelin and kiddos #rowaelin babies

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goddess-aelin · 2 months ago

Text

Back To Myself- part 1

Happy Yulemas @sassyhobbits

This was supposed to be a short one shot but I’m already 9k in and it’s not done yet. So here’s part 1 and part 2 will be coming in the next week! Hope you love it! I had another idea initially (think Romeo and Juliet with simmering tension and neck kisses), figured it’d be too long and I wouldn’t have been able to get it out in time. So I restructured it into a hallmark rom com type of fic and then emotions just kept coming out and here we are 9k later 😂

Masterlist

Aelin loved Orynth during the holiday season, she really did. It wasn’t just one thing, it was everything. Even living 10 years in Adarlan couldn’t take the sense of home she felt when she came back to Orynth. She missed the smell of the freshly baked bread above her dad’s office building. She missed ice skating on the ponds along the plains of Theralis and the tree lighting in the town square. Most of all, she missed her cousin.

Aedion was a few years older than her but the two were thick as thieves growing up. After both his mom and her parents passed away suddenly, Aelin had run from everything and everyone, moving to Adarlan to start over. In her hurry to leave, she shut Aedion out. Aelin knew she was entirely at fault but seeing Aedion, who looked so much like herself and, therefore, her mother, was too painful. Freshly 18, Aelin felt like she had no choice but to start over somewhere new, where no one knew her name or history.

The baggage she carried was heavy. Her time in Adarlan helped to lighten the load but there was always something missing, an Aedion-shaped hole in her heart. So she reached out, hoping that he didn’t hate her as much as she hated herself for leaving him in the dust. It had been rocky at first to say the least. Aedion had every right to be pissed at her and pissed at her he was. Slowly but surely, emailing became texting, became calls on the phone that were short in length, then hours long. She missed her cousin. He really was her only surviving family and 18 year old Aelin didn’t know what she was losing when she ran away.

Which was how she found herself at 28, standing in Orynth airport, palms sweaty and anxiety creeping up her stomach. This was the first time she would be seeing Aedion in ten years, the first time she’d come back to Orynth. And while that anxiety was heightening, there was also a relief that came with being back. She was sure things had changed but those 10 long years had given her perspective and time to process everything that had happened.

“Aelin!”

Her head snapped toward the sound of her name, the voice familiar yet also so different from the last time she heard it. She wasn’t sure whether to smile, laugh, cry, or look sheepish when she spotted Aedion. So instead, she stood frozen, just taking in her almost-twin. He looked similarly to how he did at 20, golden hair and turquoise eyes. But there were smaller notes that weren’t there before: the laugh lines beside his eyes, his jaw that filled out into a man’s face instead of the lanky young-adult he used to be.

She couldn’t help it then. The tears came freely and it took everything in her to not sob in the middle of Orynth International.

A pair of strong arms– stronger than they had been 10 years ago– wrapped around her and she buried her face into his familiar warmth. Even the years and miles separating them couldn’t stop her from feeling like this was where she was meant to be, back with her family in the town she grew up in. Adarlan had become a place she lived in over the last few years but it never felt quite the same as Orynth. It never felt like home. She hoped that reconciling with Aedion would be the first step into feeling like herself again. She hoped that he would be able to forgive her.

When she pulled back a while later, she almost broke again at the glistening tears in Aedion’s own eyes. Looking at him then, she knew that everything was going to be okay. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to get back to how they were but that also wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. As long as they could be as close as siblings again, she would be okay.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Aelin could only smile tightly and nod.

- - - - -

Aedion lived in a quiet suburb of Orynth with his wife, Lysandra, and son, Gavryn. The house was a picturesque townhome, the yulemas decorations sparkling and making it look like something out of the Best Homes of Orynth magazine. Aelin already knew Lysandra, of course. They were classmates a lifetime ago; a time when they didn’t get along. Aedion had explained to her on their many phone calls and facetimes how he and Lysandra got together and Aelin had promised to keep an open mind just for him.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Lysandra, but rather that they were too alike. In high school, both she and Lysandra were competitive, always volleying for the team captain spot in whichever sport they were playing or vying to be the head of a school committee. She had assumed the other woman had calmed down after 10 years of growth but Aelin also secretly hoped that Lysandra hadn’t lost her spark. Despite being rivals in a sense, she always quietly admired the brunette beauty for her drive and tenacity.

Aelin herself had changed in ways she couldn’t even begin to describe. Of course, she calmed down, saw her therapist once a week, and pretended to be an adult as best she could. But she was loath to admit that there was also a part of her that felt flattened by the last decade. She didn’t feel the same drive or competition, didn’t want to be in charge while also not wanting to relinquish control. In summary, she felt…unsettled, agitated. Adarlan was great for all its beauty and life, but she was antsy and needed a change.

She hadn’t told Aedion yet but if all went well during the week she was here, Aelin would be looking for apartments in Orynth. She hoped that being back in her old stomping grounds would give her a sense of her old self, one she quickly found herself missing since being back there.

“Annnddd here we are!” Aedion opened their bright yellow front door with a flourish. “Home sweet home.”

Aelin sheepishly smiled, still feeling like she had to walk on eggshells around him.

“Thanks, Aedion. It’s beautiful, truly.” She only got to take in the small foyer before a pitter patter of small feet made their way through the house.

“Daddy!” A streak of blonde darted past Aelin, right into Aedion’s waiting arms.

“Hey, little dude. Where are your pants?” Aedion poked the 3 year old’s belly and a plethora of giggles erupted from the small boy, clad in only a firetruck-printed pull-up.

“Mommy said I could take them off. I was goin’ on the potty!”

“No way!” Aedion spun Gavryn around and another gaggle of laughs burst forth. It warmed Aelin’s heart to see him this way, both of them. Gavryn was adorable and looked so much like her cousin did when they were children that it hurt. And Aedion…well, he deserved all the happiness in the world.

“Gav, this is Auntie Aelin. She’s going to be staying with us for the holidays.”

The boy slightly hid his face in his father’s shoulder, mumbling something so low that Aelin couldn’t hear. She slowly reached out to tickle his belly, not wanting to scare him off but also wanting to show that she was no threat to him. She could be a cool auntie. Even if she had no idea how to be an aunt at all.

“Hey Gavryn. What did you say, Buddy?”

Gavryn picked his head up slightly, “I said, you’re Auntie Aelin from the pictures.”

Aelin was dumbstruck at that. “From the…pictures?”

Gavryn wiggled his way free of his father’s arms, running toward the adjoining room and pointing. “Here! That’s Auntie Aelin!”

Aelin slowly made her way into what turned out to be a cozy-furnished living room and looked toward where the young boy was pointing. And sure enough, there was a picture on the wall of her and Aedion from when they were just little kids. But Aelin’s eyes drifted to the other pictures next to it. She was wrong at first. No, there wasn’t only one picture of “Auntie Aelin.” Instead, scattered throughout the more recent memories, there were many pictures of her and Aedion as kids, as teens, as almost-young adults. Rhoe and Evalin were in a few, standing with Aedion’s mom, Ella. It almost hurt to look at the photos, the slightly washed-out colors bringing her back to a time where she didn’t feel so lost.

She jumped when Aedion’s voice spoke quietly next to her, lost in her daze. “I never forgot, you know.” Aelin turned her head toward him, questions in her eyes. “I never forgot you. I knew you’d be back one day. That you’d come back home.”

Aelin’s eyes were burning with unshed tears. She hated how her voice cracked when she tried to speak. “I never forgot either. I’m…I’m so so–”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. Please. You did what you had to do. There’s nothing to forgive, okay? It wasn’t easy but I knew you’d be back one day. And I’m glad you’re here while Gavryn is still young, that he can know what an amazing person his Auntie Ae is.”

“I haven’t seen you in ten years, how do you even know that I’m amazing anymore?”

“One, don’t get modest on me now, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.” He smirked at the use of her full name. The smirk quickly gentled as his voice softened, “And two, I saw that look in your eye when you were looking at these pictures. Maybe you don’t feel it right now but you’re still you, Aelin. You still belong here. And you’ll always have a place with me, even if you don’t want it.”

A single tear escaped her eyes but before she could respond, a strong, female voice called from the opposite end of the room. “Well, well, well. Do my eyes deceive me or is that Aelin Galathynius in the flesh?”

- - - - -

Dinner was a slightly awkward affair at first. Lysandra was perfectly cordial and Aelin was shocked to find that she actually liked the woman. While there were lulls in conversation, there also was certainly no silence at the table. Gavryn apparently decided he was her new best friend, talking her ear off about anything and everything.

“Auntie Ae, did you know that Mommy’s a shape-shitter?”

“A…what?” Aelin couldn’t help the smile that overtook her face as she met Lysandra’s gaze.

“A shape-shitter. She can be a cat or puppy dog or even a lion!”

Aelin snorted. “Ohhh, a shape-shifter.”

“Uh huh. And so can I! Watch!

Aelin knew the kid was dramatic but the growl that came out of him was slightly inhuman. Gavryn looked so proud of himself.

“Wow! You’re very talented, indeed. You sounded exactly like a lion!”

“No, Auntie Ae. I am a lion. I shape-shitted into one. And that was a tiger sound.”

“Oh, my apologies,” she said through hidden laughter. Aelin couldn’t remember her heart feeling so full in a very, very long time.

“Auntie Ae, do you want to go to the Yue-mas tree lights tonight?”

Aelin looked to Aedion for confirmation. At his nod, she nodded. “I really do. Can you show me around, Gav?”

“Uh huh! I know where to go for the most fun stuff.”

- - - - -

“The most fun stuff” according to Gavryn turned out to be playing the carnival games that were lined up in the town square. They played the ring toss over and over and over again until Gavryn won the big, pink teddy bear he wanted. “You know that you could’ve just bought him that for like $10 at the department store down the road, right?”

Aedion rolled his eyes half-heartedly. “It’s about the memories, Aelin.” She snorted in response.

Hugging his big teddy bear, Gavryn let out a big, squeaky gasp and took off running. “Wowan!!” Aelin turned in time to see the most ruggedly handsome man snatch Gavryn up effortlessly from where he stood by the Yulemas tree. The man’s smile was breathtaking, if she was putting it lightly. She could tell he was the broody type based on his frown lines but the slight indents of dimples made their way to his face and he was a changed man.

She only realized she was staring when Lysandra sidled up to her and cleared her throat. “Maybe you should take a picture, Aelin.” Aelin could only blink and look back at her new-almost-friend.

She leaned in more closely and whispered, “Who’s the hot Jack Frost?”

At the nickname, Lysandra snickered. But before she could answer, Gavryn was already running back over to her and pulling her by the hand over to the Jack Frost look-alike.

“Wowan!! This is my Auntie Ae!!”

Trying not to be too completely dumbstruck by the man before her, Aelin offered her hand for a shake. The rough pads of his hands sent a thrill up her spine. Not the time, Aelin. You’re here for family fun only.

“Nice to meet you, Auntie Ae.” His damn smirk. It’d be the death of her.

“Nice to meet you…Jack, I presume?” She tried to play it off with humor but instead, her delivery fell flat. Damn nerves. The man’s face became bewildered but he said nothing. “Because…because you look like Jack Frost? Ya know, because of your hair.” She reached out and ruffled the front of his hair. Ruffled. His. Hair. Like he was some dog. Gods, she was so stupid, stupid, stupid.

The man pursed his lips. “Right. Well I have to be going,” he said, backing away. “Duty calls.”

Aelin never had a man run from her quite as quickly as the mystery man did. And she had never been as mortified as she was in that moment. She couldn’t help herself from actually hanging her head in her hands like they did in movies.

“Cheer up, buttercup. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you think it was.” Lysandra’s voice was teasing but not unkind.

“That man just ran from me as fast as humanly possible. Maybe even with the speed of a fae.”

At that, Lysandra actually burst out laughing. “Okay, I’m not going to lie, it was pretty bad. But Rowan’s chill. He’ll come around and forgive you.” Lysandra paused. “Especially for the whole petting his head part. Maybe he’ll even want you to do it again.” Aelin didn’t even need to look to know that her friend was wagging her eyebrows.

Aelin slapped the woman on the arm lightly. “You know damn well that I just scared that man off for good.”

Lysandra gave her a knowing smile. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Rowan doesn’t look at many people like he looked at you.”

“What? Like I hung the moon? How cliche, Lys.”

“No, like you put the fear of the gods into him. But also with a sprinkle of intrigue. Do you know how much it takes to intrigue Rowan Whitethorn?” By the look on Lysandra’s face, she assumed it was a lot.

“Rowan Whitethorn, huh?” Aelin swore to herself that she was totally not going to look him up on social media later.

- - - -

Aelin totally looked up Rowan Whitethorn on social media as soon as she was alone and cozy in her room at Aedion’s house. The man, however, was completely undetectable online. She found one profile that could have been him but was completely private and another 20 for “Rowan White.” It seemed Rowan Whitethorn was not a very common name. Aelin brushed it off, assuring herself that Orynth was a big town and she would never see him again.

Still, at breakfast the next morning, she couldn’t help but ask Aedion about him. Lysandra had already taken Gavryn to daycare for the day, claiming she and Aelin were having a “girls only” day, whatever that entailed.

“So what’s up with this Rowan Whitethorn?”

Aedion chuckled. “Ah, yes. Lysandra told me you had quite a…run in…with him.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Ugh yes, yes. Let’s all make fun of Aelin. But seriously, what’s his deal?”

“Self deprecation doesn’t suit you, Ae. And Rowan’s a good friend.” Aedion shrugged. “He’s honestly a great guy and he mostly keeps to himself. Loves Gavryn, though. And Gavryn loves him and genuinely thinks he’s the greatest thing since Bluey. He’s pretty private so anything else, well, you’ll just have to ask him.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“And why not?”

“Because the man literally ran away from me after I fucking petted his hair!”

Aedion burst out in laughter. “Gods, it’s even better when you tell it.” Aelin crossed her arms and pouted. Just then, Lysandra walked in, taking in the scene with a raised brow.

“Do I even want to know?”

“Aelin was just regaling me with the tale of her encounter with Rowan.” Lysandra joined in on the laughter. And even though she was the butt of the joke, Aelin felt lighter for the first time in a long time.

- - - - -

Walking around the shops of Orynth with Lysandra felt like a dream. Everything felt so similar to her childhood, yet also completely different. The shops she knew and loved were still there, but remodeled and updated from their previous design. And their owners were the same but now had streaks of grey and white in their hair, showing just how much time had passed.

But as they were meandering through bookstores and cafes and the one, lone department store, Aelin couldn’t help but feel a spark of something. Something that had been there many years ago but hadn’t reared its head in over a decade.

“What else is on the agenda today, Shape-shitter?”

Lysandra cackled at the nickname. “Well, I thought we could go into a few more shops so that I can finish up the Yulemas shopping for Gav and Aedion and then maybe we can get dinner? Just you and I?”

Aelin smiled at her. “I’d like that.” Despite their rocky beginning, Aelin was really starting to like Lysandra and would even consider her a friend.

Aelin stopped suddenly, a muted golden storefront catching her eye. “What’s this? I don’t remember this from when I was little.”

“Oh! That’s Pine and Snow. It has a little bit of everything but it’s mostly hand-drawn art and trinkets. You can also usually find some cute rebound books in there.”

“Mind if I go in?”

“Of course. While you go in there, I’m just going to stop next door quickly for one of Aedion’s gifts.” Aelin nodded and pushed her way inside, the green door jingling as she opened it.

The smell of craft stores was unmatched but this one in particular was really living up to its name. The owner must have had candles or air fresheners set up to make it actually smell like pine and snow. Aelin closed her eyes, breathing in the scent and allowing it to take her back to snowy days sledding with her dad and Aedion. The scent was so vivid that she decided she needed to find the candle and hoped that they sold it in-store.

Aelin was just about to give up when she spotted a candle stand in the corner of the shop, the canisters very rustic looking in glass jars with wooden tops. While each was labeled, it was all things like “birch and evergreen” and “redwood and aspen.” Any of these, in theory, could smell like the pine and snow of the shop and so, naturally, she decided to open each one.

“Do you need any help over here?”

Aelin was startled out of her mission by a familiar, slightly accented voice. Oh fuck.

She turned and saw the spark of recognition enter Rowan’s eyes. Thankfully, this time he didn’t make a run for it. Yet, her traitorous mind thought.

“I–ah, no! I’m just testing the candles. It smells really good in here and I just figured I’d see if you had the scent.”

“Ah, I see. You’re probably smelling a mix of scents so I’m not sure which one you were looking for.”

“The one that smells like…pine and snow?”

Rowan raised an amused brow. “My shop is called Pine and Snow but unfortunately, I don’t have any that specifically smell like that.” HIs voice was deadpan and while his face held some amusement, she couldn’t read his tone.

“You own the shop?” Rowan nodded. “And you make everything here?”

“Aye, there’s some products I buy from local vendors but yes, everything else is made by me.”

“Wow. Thats…incredible.” Smooth, Aelin.

A stilted silence overtook the space between them until they both tried to speak at the same time.

“I should ap–”

“I think you’re–”

Aelin let out a huff of laughter. “You first.”

Rowan reached past her, picking up a green candle. “I was just going to say that I think you’re probably going to like this one best if you want it close to pine and snow.”

He handed her the green jar and she noted that it was the “birch and evergreen” scent. “Thanks.”

“Sorry, though. Touching my hair doesn’t come free with this scent, unfortunately.” His cocksure smile did things to her heart right before his gruff tone grated her nerves.

Aelin’s cheeks flamed red and she was sure that Rowan could probably see the embarrassment on her face, quickly replaced by irritation. It was one thing to make the social faux-pa she had but another to be taunted for it.

So naturally, she did what she had done best for the last 10 years: she avoided. “You know what, I think I’m going to just go. Thanks for the info, Jack.”

Rowan’s face dropped and a look of annoyance crossed his face at the nickname. Was there also underlying confusion she detected in his gaze? No matter, if he was willing to tease her, she could dish it right back to him. Two could play at this game, she thought.

Stepping outside, she found Lysandra exiting the shop next door.

“You traitorous bitch!” Her words may have been harsh but they held no heat.

Lysandra didn’t even try to hide her smirk. “Who, me?”

“You knew that Rowan Whitethorn owned that shop and just decided not to tell me?”

Lysandra shrugged.

“The same Rowan Whitethorn that just told me that hair touching didn’t come for free with a candle I was going to buy?”

If it were possible for someone to actually howl like a wolf, Lysandra took the cake. “You…oh god…he what?!” While this was a very, very serious situation, Aelin couldn’t help the slight uptick of her lips at her friend’s laughter.

“Yup. You heard me correctly.”

“Aelin, you seriously have the worst game, I swear.”

“It’s not my flirting skills that are lacking. I’m perfectly capable of that. But it’s just something about him that makes me completely and utterly…”

“Stupid?”

“Yeah.” Aelin sighed.

“Cmon,” Lysandra said, pulling her arm toward the bar across the street. “I’ll buy you dinner and a drink. Or maybe two.”

- - - - -

“Auntie Ae!”

If it were possible for a three year old to stand still, Aelin knew that sure as hell wasn’t the case with Gavryn. The boy was jumping up and down in his place in line to see Santa during their second outing to the town square.

“I’m gonna ask for a BIG monster truck and a puppy!”

“Oh yeah, buddy? That sounds so fun!” A quick look to Lysandra confirmed that, no, Gavryn would not be getting a puppy for Yulemas.

Aelin was surprised that Gavryn sat long enough to whisper in Santa’s ear, wiggling around to no end. But at the end, his little face turned its attention toward her, sliding smoothly from Santa’s lap and making a beeline to where she was standing off to the side.

“Auntie Ae, come! You have to meet Santa, too!”

“Wha—” The three year old was a lot stronger than he looked and when he took her hand and pulled her to Santa, she couldn’t stand her ground.

“Gavryn, I don’t think–”

“Shh, Auntie Ae, you have to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him your secrets.”

She muttered a quick I don’t think that’s how this works under her breath before looking toward Santa for a reprieve. But when she glanced at Santa, his green eyes were all too familiar-looking. Aelin figured she probably looked like a deer in headlights but to be fair, so did “Santa.”

“Gavryn, I don’t think Santa wants me to sit on his lap. I’m...I’m...too old! Uh huh!”

“Nonshence, Auntie Ae. Daddy says you’re never too old for Santa!”

Aelin closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to see the spectacle she was surely making in the town square. If she focused slightly, she was sure she would hear Lysandra and Aedion snickering. She gave herself until the count of three and opened her eyes back up, looking at Gavryn. His pleading Ashryver eyes held so much sway over her that she had to laugh.

Plucking up her courage, Aelin stepped onto the platform where Rowan-Santa was sitting. She gave him a tight smile before unceremoniously plopping into his lap. A small “oof” left his mouth, as if she had caught him off guard. She felt his gloved hand slowly come up to her middle back. She was almost startled when he let out a booming “Ho! Ho! Ho!” for the benefit of the crowd and Gavryn.

“And what can I get you for Yulemas, Auntie Ae?” She narrowed her eyes at the use of Gavryn’s nickname for her. He leaned closer to her ear, lowering his voice so that Gavryn wouldn’t be able to hear. “Or are you going to tell me a secret like your nephew wants, instead?”

Aelin put on her sweetest smile. She knew exactly what she was going to ask Santa for.

- - - - -

“What the hell did you say to Santa, Aelin?”

She tried not to let the corners of her mouth twitch upwards in a smirk, she really did. But in the end, she couldn’t help it. “Nothing of importance.”

Lysandra looked entirely skeptical. “Mmhm. Right. And that’s why Santa’s face got redder than the town’s fire truck?”

“How would I know? Maybe he was just so overwhelmed by my stunning beauty and didn’t expect to have such a beautiful woman sitting on his lap.”

“Ah, there’s the Aelin I know. But seriously, what did you say to him? Everyone knows that it’s Rowan up there. Except the kids, obviously.”

“I just asked for something to ease frustration, that’s all.”

“And that means…?”

“I told Santa that I wanted a dildo.” Aelin did her best to act nonchalant when in reality, she felt anything but. Whispering that in Rowan’s ear was a spur of the moment decision, but in that moment she wanted to do anything to wipe the cocky smirk off his face.

Lysandra apparently thought it was the funniest thing and sent the coffee she was sipping flying everywhere. Instead of cleaning herself up right away once her laughter died down, the brunette just stared at her, mouth gaping. “You do realize that the get-together you’re going to with Aedion and Gav tonight is at Rowan’s shop, right? Hosted by the man himself?” Aelin froze.

“What?”

“Yeah, he always has a little shop decorating, open house thing the week before Yulemas.”

“So….”

“You’ll have to see him again tonight? Yeah. Yeah you will.” Lysandra hid her smirk behind her coffee as she took another sip.

“Fuck me.”

“Not me, honey. But maybe if you’re lucky, someone else will,” her friend teased with a wink.

- - - - -

She wasn’t desperate, really. She didn’t want to give the wrong impression and show up at this gathering too glitzy. It was, however, a holiday party and she wanted to look nice. Just because of the town, of course, not because of anyone in particular. She was wearing her nicest pair of jeans (that made her butt look fabulous, if she was being truthful) and a chunky sweater, rounded out by some gold accent jewelry and combat boots. Casual. Composed. Cool.

A knock on her bedroom door had her turning to her cousin, who looked…not put together. He gave her a sheepish smile as he entered the room.

“Hey, best cousin!” Aelin didn’t like how this conversation was starting, not at all. “So, I know you and I were supposed to take Gav down to Rowan’s for his open house thing and I know that I always help out there but I’m feeling a little under the weather. I was hoping that the burning in my throat would go away but it’s still here and I’m pretty sure I’m running a low fever.”

Aelin had to admit that her cousin was not looking his best. He had a flush on his cheeks and she could hear that his voice was a little hoarse.

“Ok, well why don’t you just go lay down and I can run and get some medicine or food or something for you? We don’t have to go tonight.” While a part of her was relieved, she also detected some disappointment running through her.

“The problem is that I typically help Rowan with some of the food stuff, which is why we were going a little early. I know he wouldn’t mind and would tell me to stay home but I just feel bad, ya know?”

“O–kay? What do you want me to do about that?” Aelin already had a sneaking suspicion she knew what Aedion was going to ask.

“Can you go over and help him out? Even if it’s only for a bit to get him started and then I promise you can come right back?”

Aelin sighed. It was bad enough that she embarrassed herself more times than she was willing to admit at this point but now she had to pretend that everything wasn’t weird from her little request to Santa, too and help him with his shop. Cool. No problem.

Resigned to her fate, she muttered, “Ok, fine. I’ll take Gav too so you can rest.” Aelin pointed at her cousin. “But don’t say I’ve never done anything for you.”

Aedion put his hands up in surrender. “I’d never dream of it. Lysandra should be done with her work party at 6:30 and she’ll stop by to check in and pick up Gavryn. And also, ya know, to give you an out if you need it.”

Aelin sighed, knowing that while this situation wasn’t ideal, it also wasn’t the worst and it was the least she could do to repay Aedion for letting her stay with him.

“It’s all good, seriously. I’ll do it and we’ll have a great time!”

Aedion chuckled. “I almost believed you that time.”

- - - - -

The ringing of the bell above the door clanged louder than anything she had ever heard in her life. Or maybe she was just being paranoid, she wasn’t sure. She knew two things for certain, however. One, Gavryn hadn’t stopped bouncing and talking about “Wowan” the entire walk over to Pine and Snow. And two, the silvery-haired man who owned the shop was also currently the only other person present when they walked inside.

“Wowan!!” Gavryn dropped her hand as quickly as he was physically able and ran over to Rowan, who, to her chagrin, was looking quite adorable in a Yulemas-printed apron over his grey slacks and green sweater.

The man’s face lit up at the sight of Gavryn running toward him. “Hey buddy! I’m so glad you’re here. I have lots of fun stuff for you to do tonight with the other kids.”

Aelin made her way inside the shop, taking in the glittering decorations and small tables set up with various goods. In one corner, there was a craft station outfitted with watercolor paints and tiny aprons for the kids to wear. In another, a hot chocolate machine whirred enticingly.

“Well if it isn’t Auntie Ae.” Rowan sidled up to her, still holding Gavryn, who was reaching for a paper snowflake.

“Just Aelin, actually.” Rowan pursed his lips as if trying to hold words in.

“No Aedion tonight?”

“He’s sick, unfortunately. He sends his apologies but he sent me in his stead to help out. So just…you know, let me know what I can do.” She was fully aware that she was allowing her eyes to purposefully wander, not meeting his gaze.

Rowan fidgeted and actually looked a bit…nervous? She must have been seeing things because there was no way this Adonis of a man was anything but confident around her after all of her fuck ups in the past few days.

With a surprising gentleness of someone of his size, Rowan put Gavryn down. “Hey buddy, how about you get the watercolor project started so that we can show everyone an example?” Gavryn looked so giddy to not only be helping Rowan out but also to have his art on display. With a practiced ease, Gavryn slipped into one of the seats at the craft table and began painting.

Once he was settled, Rowan turned to her and stuck his hand out. “I think maybe we got off to the wrong start. I’m Rowan.”

Aelin took his hand and tried to give a small smile. “I know. I’m Aelin.” She needed to stop looking into his eyes or else she might just stay there for an eternity.

“Well Aelin, welcome to Orynth.”

She snorted lightly. “I’ve been here before, you know.”

“Oh?” His smile was going to be the death of her, she knew it already.

She shrugged. “I grew up here.” Now was really the time when she should’ve dropped his hand. But her smaller hand stayed nestled in his larger one and to be quite honest, she was hesitant to let go.

“Well, I guess I should say welcome back, then.”

Aelin huffed. “Thanks. It’s–it’s good to be back, actually.” Rowan gave her a smile that told her he knew more than he was letting on. She wasn’t actually sure how close he and Aedion were but she was beginning to think that maybe Rowan filled a hole in her cousin’s life that she made when she left.

Finally. Finally, Rowan dropped her hand. If he held it any longer while also holding her gaze, she was sure that her palms were going to start getting clammy. Just another embarrassment to add to her list.

“So–the Santa thing, huh?” She tried to keep her voice down, careful of Gavryn’s listening ears. Rowan chuckled and nodded his head toward the back room, where stacks of boxes awaited them. Rowan held a few out to her and she took them, waiting for him to pick up his own boxes and then following him to the display of food that was half-complete.

Setting the boxes down, he heaved a sigh. “Yeah. The Santa thing.” He chuckled. “I don’t even know how it started, since I know you’re going to ask that. But I’ve been doing it every year for the last five years. The kids never seem to know it’s me so I’ll keep doing it until they figure it out.”

“It’s sweet that you do that.” He gave her a skeptical look. “No, seriously! It’s very sweet.”

“No comment on the color of my hair being just the right shade of silver for Santa?”

Aelin slapped her hands over her eyes. “Oh my gods. I’m never going to live that down.”

His chuckle sent shivers through her. “Nope,” Rowan said as he leaned a little closer, “never.”

She groaned. “What can I do to make you forget it?”

Rowan paused and thought about it. “Apart from hitting me over the head with a bat, I’m not sure anything could ever make me forget you petting my hair.”

“Noted.” She gave him a sly grin to show that she was talking about the bat comment.

Rowan chuckled at her joke but then a devious smile crossed his face. “Or…you could tell me that secret from the other night?”

“I don’t have a secret.”

“No? Is that why your face got so red when Gavryn asked you to sit on Santa’s lap?”

“My face does not get red.” Rowan raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“It’s red right now.”

Aelin let out a noise of frustration. “Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“That.”

It was humor she detected in Rowan’s voice. “Considering I don’t know what ‘that’ is, how can I stop doing it?”

“Urgh. Let’s just get these unpacked, okay? Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

She could tell Rowan was holding back a laugh. “You got it, your Majesty.”

She gave him a look of annoyance but said nothing more, the two of them working in silence to get the shop ready for visitors. That’s how they remained for the next 20 minutes, quietly working like a well-oiled machine despite not knowing anything about one another. Every so often, they’d check in on Gavryn, who was making his masterpiece in the corner of the shop or begging for a cup of hot cocoa, which Aelin very willingly handed over as penance for Aedion leaving her with this frustrating and yet very sexy man.

It surprised her, the ease she felt around the stoic Rowan. While they didn’t hold a full conversation since she entered the shop, it also wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, either. She could tell that his words earlier were teasing and light. She just was a little taken aback at the fact that he could get under her skin so easily, something that no one had been able to do in quite some time.

“Aelin, I don’t think I said this yet but thanks.” He gestured to the shop. “For helping out with this. I know you don’t even know me and we got off to a bit of a rocky start but it means a lot.”

Aelin’s insides melted a little. “Seriously, it’s no problem at all. I owed a favor to Aedion anyway for letting me stay with him for the week.”

“Still, I feel like I’m in your debt. Maybe I can–”

The bell jingled above the shop, breaking them out of their reverie. She didn’t realize how close they had been standing until she broke away toward the sound.

“Rowan, my man!”

A blonde haired guy who honestly looked like he should’ve been on the cover of a magazine breezed into the shop, along with a short, dark-haired woman and a man with a scowl that seemed permanently etched on his face.

Rowan sighed. “Hey, Fen.”

This Fen whistled at the decorations, taking it all in and then turning toward the back where Rowan and Aelin were standing.

“It looks great in here. You did this all by yourself?”

Rowan looked sheepishly to Aelin, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had some help.”

She could tell the moment that Fen’s eyes honed in on her. Normally, that kind of hungry look would be enough for her to turn on the charm but surprisingly, she didn’t feel like it tonight. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the silver-haired man standing right next to her. Gods, what had they put into the water in this town since she’d been gone?

“And who do we have here?” Fen’s eyes roved over her from head to toe, not disrespectfully.

“Cut it out, Fen. This is Aelin, Aedion’s cousin. Aelin, meet Fenrys. And that’s Elide and Lorcan.” Aelin gave a small wave.

“Wait, Aelin Galathynius?” The dark haired woman piped up, causing Aelin’s eyes to shoot toward her.

“Yes?”

“You were a grade above me in high school.”

Recognition crashed into Aelin. “Oh my gods! Elide Lochan, right?”

“That’s me! It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you around here.”

“Yeah. It’s been a while.” Aelin didn’t know what else to say, the shame of running 10 long years ago and the fear that Elide would bring up her parents hitting her like a brick.

“Well, hopefully we can hang out sometime soon? Lorcan and I can’t stay long tonight but would you maybe want to get lunch tomorrow?” Before Aelin could even answer, Elide gasped. “Or! There’s actually this ice skating party dance thing on Friday in the town rink. Basically the whole town comes out and has a good time. We can totally all meet up there.”

Aelin did remember her cousin mentioning something about it but didn’t remember any details. “Sure, that sounds great!”

“Perfect.” Elide looked to Lorcan, whose gaze softened at the tiny woman. “We’ll let you get back to,” Elide gestured to her and Rowan, “whatever you were doing.” And with that, the couple walked away, milling around with the other guests that had started to arrive.

Fenrys, on the other hand, lingered, looking very confused.

“Ro, do you need me to do anything?”

Rowan snapped his gaze to the man, his eyes shooting from where they had been resting on her just a moment ago. “Nah, I think I’ve got it handled. Aelin here has been a huge help.” He gave her a soft smile.

Fenrys smirked. “Well, Aelin. If you get tired of this old buzzard, come see me. I’ll be around.” Fenrys walked–no, swaggered–away.

“Is he always like that?”

“Uh huh.”

Aelin chuckled at Rowan’s obvious discomfort. “Old Buzzard. I’ll have to save that one for later.”

Rowan groaned and ran his hand over his face. “Please don’t. Fenrys is just someone that needs constant entertainment or else he gets bored. His life apparently doesn’t have enough drama.”

“Sounds like my kind of person,” Aelin laughed.

Rowan let out a laugh devoid of mirth. “Well, no one’s stopping you from going after him. In fact, he’s single. Go for it.” For some reason, Rowan’s words left a sour feeling in her stomach. “I’m gonna go check up on the kids table. Do you mind just keeping an ear out if anyone needs help?”

Aelin nodded and was about to respond but Rowan high-tailed it away from her before she was able to do so.

It was about an hour later that Lysandra finally showed up, apologizing for her late arrival. She picked up Gavryn who was starting to lag from the excitement of the festivities.

“Aedion texted me and told me you might need some saving.” Lysandra looked at her while raising an eyebrow.

“I’m good, seriously. It was the least I could do for Aedion.”

“Well, you’re off the hook if you want to get out of here. I’m sure Rowan can clean up himself.” Aelin looked over to where Rowan was talking to one of his customers, a small smile playing on his lips. Tonight had been such a great night, truly. It was nice to see a whole community coming together to support a small business and for that business to give back in its own way. She had a warmth in her heart that she just hadn’t been able to find in Adarlan. And while most of that was from the community that she had felt a part of tonight, another small portion was because of the silver-haired enigma standing 10 feet away.

“Aelin?”

Aelin was snapped back to reality by her friend. “Sorry. I’ll stay for a bit, I think.” Truthfully, she was having a good time but she also didn’t love how she left things with Rowan. She owed him nothing and he owed her nothing and if she was being honest, she didn’t even know what she felt, but his annoyance didn’t sit lightly with her and she wanted to clear the air. Or at the very least, help him with cleaning up.

She gave a wave to Lysandra and placed a gentle kiss on a dozing Gavryn’s forehead.

Lysandra smiled at her. “Text me when you leave, okay? You know where the key is.”

Aelin nodded at her friend.

The shop had emptied out and there were only a few stragglers left looking at some of the pieces Rowan had on display. Aelin figured it was safe to start cleaning up the disposable cups and plates that were setting around.

It was only a little while later that she felt more than heard Rowan come up behind her.

“You don’t have to do that, Aelin.” She turned toward him, his ruffled hair indicating that he had been running his hands through it. She felt a pang of jealousy. She wanted to do that.

She shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I can just help you clean up and then hopefully we both can get home faster.” She turned back to the small pile of trash she amassed as she cleaned Rowan’s shop. What she didn’t see was the chair that was settled to her left, catching on her foot and making her trip backwards. Aelin braced for the feel of the hard ground but it never came. Instead, strong arms held her with care and left her completely breathless.

Rowan’s voice was a whisper when he spoke. “Careful, there.”

Aelin said nothing in return, only allowed her gaze to fixate on him. His ruffled hair, his strong jaw, and finally, his piercing green eyes.

Her voice was raspier and more breathless than she expected. “Thanks.” Rowan nodded and helped her to stand up.

Once she was free, she ran her hands over her jeans, straightening out wrinkles that weren’t there. Clearing her throat, she tried to make light of the tension that now lay like a blanket over the room. “Anyway…” She let out a forced laugh.

“Seriously, Aelin. You don’t have to help me clean up. Go home and rest. Go spend time with your cousin.”

“It’s fine. I want to help clean up.”

Rowan let out a noncommittal sound. “Why?”

Aelin scoffed. “What do you mean ‘why?’”

“I mean, ‘why?’ Why do you feel like you need to help me? I’m perfectly capable of doing this on my own.”

“Because Aedion asked me to help? Because you’re his friend? Because I owe him?”

“Did he say that?” Rowan’s face was dead serious. “Did he say that you owe him?”

“No, but I do.” This conversation was quickly veering into dangerous–and too serious–territory.

“I don’t think that’s true. You said that earlier, too. That you ‘owed’ him. And if I thought that you were talking about him having you stay with him for this week, then I’d let it slide. But I don’t think that’s what you mean, is it?”

Damn this man. How could he know nothing about her yet be able to read her like a book?

“You don’t know me.”

“You’re right. And I’m sorry if I overstepped. But even if I don’t know you, it doesn’t mean that I don’t recognize the guilt that you hold.”

“Why? Because you have the same guilt?” Aelin knew that was a nasty comment, a ridiculous thing to ask.

“Yes,” he answered simply. “I do. I know exactly what it feels like to come back to a place that was your home and not feel like you belong there anymore. Or to feel like you should never have left. But in the end, it’s part of who we are. And we can only move forward from it.”

A lone tear somehow worked its way down Aelin’s face. She felt hopeful when she came back to Orynth. She wanted to put the past behind her, start anew, but also pick back up where she’d left off when she’d left Orynth. But she’d also been holding so much guilt over leaving Aedion, over missing so many parts of his life–the only family she had left. She kept telling herself she was fine; that since Aedion forgave her, all was healed. But the truth was that she wasn’t healed. She wasn’t sure if she ever would be. Being back in Orynth felt right but it didn’t come without its hardships, either.

She sniffled just as Rowan’s thumb met her cheek, catching her tear before it dripped down her chin.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.” Rowan’s voice was soft, genuine.

Aelin looked up at him, whose eyes held their own mist. The same eyes that held a pain she didn’t see before. She gently laid her hand over Rowan’s that was resting on her cheek.

“No. Don’t be sorry. I think…I think I needed to hear that, actually.” She let out a hoarse laugh. “You’re right that I’ve felt so guilty. And I don’t honestly know if there will ever be a time that I won’t. But maybe I should try.”

“I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to.” Rowan’s thumb gently traced a path from the apple of her cheek down to her chin. “I know we don’t know each other well but I’m here.”

Aelin looked at him genuinely, “Thank you. And same to you. I think there might be more to you than just Santa and Buzzards, Rowan Whitethorn.”

His laughter was music to her ears.

“Cmon,” his hand glided down to catch her own. “Let’s clean up and then I’ll walk you home, yeah?”

Aelin nodded. “Yeah.”

- - - - -

“So let me get this straight. You had a heart to heart. He walked you home right to the damn doorstep. And then NO KISS?!”

Aelin rolled her eyes at Lysandra’s theatrics. “Yes, Lys. It’s not like that.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not! We just talked and he said that if I ever needed someone to talk to, that he could be that person. And then we just…talked more. I don’t know.”

“Aelin, let me ask you this. How many men do you know that have offered to just listen to you vent about your life?”

Aelin thought about it, knowing exactly what her friend was getting at. “I don’t know.”

“You do. Answer the question.” Oh, her friend was in a mood.

She sighed. “Just Rowan, I guess.”

“Great. And how many men do you know that are responsible, respectable, business owners?”

“At least five, actually.”

“Ok let’s try that again. Are all those things I just mentioned plus offered to be at your beck and call 24/7?”

“He did not offer that, stop it.”

“Might as well have,” Lysandra muttered. “I just don’t want to see you throw this potentially good thing away. Rowan’s such a good guy, Aelin. You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy!”

“Ok, then you deserve to be happier!”

Aelin sighed. She was getting nowhere with this conversation.

“Listen, I know I’m being pushy right now. And if you tell me to back off, I will. I promise. But I think that you and Rowan could have something great if you went for it. I just don’t want you to let it slip past you.” Lysandra threw her hands up in defense. “Ok. That’s it! I’m done, I promise.” She mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

Aelin never felt like she needed a partner. Sure, she’d had her fair share of lovers over the years but never anything lasting or true. She wasn’t dense enough to not be able to tell the reason why, however. She knew that part of her problem was that she felt the same amount of loneliness when she was with someone as she did when she was single. No one ever made her feel seen or heard.

Not until last night, that is.

There was something about Rowan that made her feel like maybe, just maybe, someone could relate to her. That she wasn’t alone in the big wide world.

She just had to figure out what she wanted to do about it.

Tag List:

@cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @wellofnothing @ayaashryver @moonknight-spector @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @heirofflowers @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee @books4eva04 @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @mariaofdoranelle @dreamer-133 @elentiyawhitethorn @writtenonreceipts @shyvioletcat @aelinchocolatelover @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @athena127 @tothestarsandwhateverend @highqueenofelfhame @sassyhobbits

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin yulemas swap #rowaelinyulemasswap24 #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction

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dani-luminae · 1 year ago

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Sorry not sorry SJM but

what the fuck is “Yulemas”?!?!?!!

#sticking together a pagan holiday with a specifically catholic practice is uh. Hmm #Just not great! So many flavors of not great #sjm critical #Like the samhuinn one I can almost excuse but Yulemas? No

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flyingoneloveart · 1 year ago

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Happy Holidays 2023

#artists on tumblr #my art #digital drawing #spg #steam powered giraffe #spg rabbit #rabbit spg #drawing #Yulemas

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mariaofdoranelle · 2 years ago

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Faking Yulemas — Part 4: Dear Santa… I Can Explain

For 12 Days of Rowaelin

Prompt: Yulemas Lights

Fic masterlist

I know it’s very rude of me to only post this now, I promise I was not planning to wait that long. I hope you have fun with this fic’s closure!

Warnings: NSFW, language, drinking, mentions of inappropriate intimate tattoos

Word count: 5,5k (oops?)

“Tell me about your parents.”

Rowan hummed, thoughtful. “Dad’s a pretty laid-back guy, but mom keeps him in line. She’s the strict one, I take after her.” A tilt of his head. “I once read online that’s reason why I overthink, but I don’t think they traumatized me that much. Just the normal amount.” He looked at her dead in the eye. “I definitely don’t have daddy issues.”

Chuckling, Aelin elbowed his side. “You’re not helping.”

He deftly gripped her attacking elbow and stroked it with his thumb, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite decipher. “You don’t need to think too hard on it, they’ll be mushy just by knowing you drove all the way here to buy them something.”

Aelin sighed and nodded. She didn’t prepare that much back in Doranelle to this, but now that she’d met the Whitethorns, she wanted to get them a Yulemas present. The hardest part was buying something nice on Yulemas Eve Eve that would fit her student budget, but she’d manage.

Their excuse to come downtown Mistward was so Aelin could get to know the city, and it wasn’t that much of a lie. With streets filled with stores decorated for the holidays, it was a sight. There were people going in all directions, probably late with the gift shopping too. There was also a Santa on a white, wheeled vehicle pulled by a horse that was going around the shopping area. She assumed it was supposed to be Santa Claus in a one horse open sleigh, but she decided to not pick on this poor attempt at Santa. Let them live their inaccurate holiday joy.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” Rowan gave her a pointed look. “I can get that extra jacket on the car.”

Aelin looked down at her red sundress that had an open back and spaghetti straps, frowning. She was fine. Not one arm hair out of place. In the meanwhile, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pants, and she also didn’t miss how his Adam’s apple bobbed before his eyes snapped back to hers.

Interesting.

“Remind me to never take you to Terrasen in the winter,” she snickered. God, Rowan wouldn’t survive a day in knee-deep snow.

His eyes lit up. “That means you’ll take me there in the summer, then?”

“I need enough money to get back there myself first.” Aelin walked ahead of him a little, towards a storefront, so he wouldn’t see her flush. That really sounded like an invitation, didn’t it? And she hoped what she’d just said didn’t sound too much like a dismissal. Truth was, she was confused.

They were fake dating, that was a fact. However, her feelings about Rowan changed a lot since her first day in Mistward. They settled the deal before those piano lessons together. And getting acquainted with his family. Watching him drag Enda’s kids on a sled with the mower did its trick too. And honestly? Aelin wasn’t above the emotional consequences of cuddling at night.

She took a deep breath and stopped pretending that storefroent was interesting, focusing back on Rowan.

He was gazing at her already, a soft look on his eyes.

She was so screwed.

˜˜

After finding a nice gift for his parents, Rowan insisted on having dinner at this fancy pasta place.

The best part of it? The wine.

Aelin was currently explaining to Rowan what only three people in the world knew: the complete chain of events that led her to start a dating hiatus.

“It’s hard to find so many suitable one-night stands, but I had just broken up with Chaol, so I wanted something casually serious. So this guy, Sam… well, he made a family on The Sims with me.”

Rowan frowned. “That’s creepy.”

She sighed. “I know, but I thought it was cute at the time. Anyway. Since we were already married on his game, you’d think he wanted something serious, right?”

He tilted his head. “Right…”

“Wrong!” Aelin yelled, and then looked around, giggling and a bit embarrassed. This wasn’t the kind of restaurant it was okay to be screaming at, but she was blaming the wine. “When I mentioned that we were in a situationship, he said the label was too much.” Sweeping her arms, she forgot once more about keeping a low profile.

Rowan was quietly chuckling at her antics when the food came.

Could it even be called food?

The plate itself reminded her of a Victorian hat with a particularly wide brim. Only for the ladies who liked to be a little extra. She could even imagine some lady called Edith or Cecily pulling this off effortlessly. The border of the plate went for what felt like miles, and after a lot of what seemed like a waste of space in a dishwasher, there was a small depression. The bottom and center of the plate had a small portion of spaghetti cocooned, as wide as her palm if she was lucky.

Looking at Rowan, he seemed to be at loss too. Aelin didn’t know much about his dining habits, but she knew damn well that a portion that size wasn’t enough to grow the kind of muscles he had. Finally looking at her in the eye, he seemed to apologize with his own when she shook her head and smiled. She wasn’t going to complain about being brought to a nice date in a fancy restaurant downtown.

Wait.

Was this a date?

“So Sam was the final nail in the coffin?” Rowan prompted, wanting to know which date was bad enough to make her want to go celibate for a year.

“No, that would be Archer.” He sat back and sipped his wine, waiting. Aelin took a deep breath, steeling herself. “He would always ask me when I’d give him a chance, but I never took him seriously. He was just that kind of guy no one takes seriously, but the bar was so low that I did.”

“It’s really hard to believe that you, of all people, were struggling so much to date.”

Aelin just groaned in response.

“Anyway,” she continued, “The date was fun, and I think he even put in some effort… for his standards. The problem was his tattoo.”

Aelin didn’t miss the way Rowan quickly glanced at his tattooed arm while she said it.

“He had an intimate tattoo,” she explained, followed by a dramatic pause. “Of Pinocchio.”

Rowan blinked, then his eyes slowly widened with the realization of what she was implying, and he seemed to be so surprised they spoke at the same time:

“Please don’t tell me the nose was—”

“And Pinocchio’s nose was—”

Aelin somberly nodded.

Rowan took a sip of his wine. “But did you…” He cleared his throat. “Did you?”

She gaped. “I would never sit on Pinocchio’s nose.”

He nodded, looked at his food and took a swig of his wine before resuming his dinner. Aelin wondered if she ruined it by mentioning another man’s dick tat, but he looked up at her with a resolved look on his face.

“You do realize that the amount of guys with inappropriate tattoos or virtual families with you isn’t that big, right?”

Aelin didn’t like his tone. She leaned away from Rowan on her chair and asked a little too defensive, “Your point is?”

Truth was, Aelin didn’t get that much annoyed when people would question her dating hiatus. She’d usually just wait until their speech was over and let it go. But for some reason, all those speeches she shrugged off for months were coming back to haunt her during this vacation. Did she give up too soon? Was she wasting her youth on this? Having her celibacy questioned by Rowan struck a nerve, Aelin just had to find out why.

“Sometimes people are so focused on what’s happening directly to them, they forget to look around for better options.”

Her mouth opened and closed before she found the words “I did look around! The view was terrible.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Rowan tried to rephrase it. “I was actually telling you to consider possibilities you haven’t thought of before.”

“You’re telling me to try girls?” Her mouth fell open. It wasn’t a bad idea, she just wasn’t expecting that suggestion.

Looking tired from trying to explain himself, Rowan sighed. “When’s your hiatus ending?”

“On March 3rd.”

He sipped his wine. “Noted.”

Aelin blinked. “What?”

She would not think too much on this. She would not think about this while holding him tonight.

He leaned back on his seat and shrugged. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

˜˜

Rowan was motionless, staring at the car like he was reading its soul. Or like someone had just dropped the keys in the river and he stood there, watching it fall into the bottom. Considering it was Rowan, any other thing would make it easier to drive than the situation they were currently in.

Drunk.

Actually, they weren’t drunk. Tipsy sounds more fitting. Maybe somewhere between these two?

Aelin checked her watch. There was still time to catch a train. Maeve’s house had a really difficult access, though, so she’d need someone to pick them up at the station.

“I’m calling Sellene,” Aelin broke the silence.

That was enough to make Rowan fall out of his trance. “Absolutely not!” He ran a hand through his head. “She’ll mock us to death.”

Aelin’s smile was so big she could swear the corners of Rowan’s mouth tilted up. “She’ll mock you to death! Sel loves me.”

Sellene answered the phone before Rowan could make an argument out of this.

“What the fuck are you two still doing downtown?” Her friend’s voice boomed before anyone could even say hello.

“Honey, langua— oh, hi, Aelin!” Uncle Ellys showed up smiling behind Sellene.

Aelin quickly explained their drunken situation and asked her to pick them up at the train station closest to the family’s house, and Rowan stayed curiously silent the whole time. It probably had something to do with the mischievous glint that grew in Sellene’s eyes every sentence, which reached its peak when Uncle Ellys furrowed his eyebrows and suggested, “Why don’t you two stay at a hotel and drive back in the morning? That way no one needs to get the car back on Yulemas Eve.”

Sel’s smile was so big she looked like a maniac. “That’s a great idea, dad!”

The little bitch.

She knew damn well Aelin wasn’t actually dating Rowan.

This was going to be so awkward.

Rowan cleared his throat. “I’m not sure this is a good—“

“I think it’s perfect, Ro.”

He continued, glaring this time. “I didn’t bring anything to spend the night. I have no clothes, no toiletries—“

“Good to know we’ve got it settled then!” Unaffected, Sellene’s grin was so smug it was annoying. “If it isn’t my favorite couple.”

Ellys frowned. “I thought it was Marceline and Princess Bubblegum, Dear.”

“I guess you’re right.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, bye!” Sellene sing-sang.

”Sellene, don’t—“ Rowan shouted, but it was too late.

She had already hung up on them.

Rowan sighed, and Aelin pocketed her phone, leaning her back in the car to think. They were already sharing a bed anyway, staying at a hotel for the night wouldn’t be that bad. It’d be almost the same, right?

Rowan didn’t think so, apparently.

“I’m gonna try my parents,” he finally said.

“Okay.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“But don’t you think it’s weird?” Aelin said before he hit the call button.

His thumb hovered above the screen for a moment, then he carefully asked, “What would be weird?”

“Refusing to spend the night away. We’re supposed to be dating, remember?”

He locked his phone and leaned on the car as well, arms crossed. “I’d never spend the night with my girlfriend without clean clothes and a toothbrush.”

“The only one you’d need out of those two is very easy to buy,” she snickered. “Besides, you can’t ask your mom to rescue you. You should be flattered for the opportunity to spend the night with me.”

“I am.”

The yellow streetlights didn’t help, but Aelin could see Rowan’s cheeks turning a shade pinker. Cute, she marveled.

“Besides,” he continued, “We usually need all hands on deck during Yulemas Eve. I’ll waste too much time coming back here tomorrow to get the car.”

She tilted her head. “It’ll be a nuisance.”

“A big one.”

Aelin grinned. “And we can’t let that happen.”

He shook his head, lips tugging up. “Absolutely not.”

“So which hotel are we picking?”

“The closest one.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Oh. Sure.”

Rowan was a practical person. Of course he’d pick the closest one. And there was no reason for her to hope for another hotel, since this decision had been purely practical.

Something about her expression gave her away. He bumped her shoulder. “I’m open to suggestions, though.”

“I don’t have suggestions, I’ve never been here.” She bumped his shoulder back. “I just thought we were choosing together, that’s all.”

He raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to continue.

“For example, I like it when they have those huge breakfast buffets. With…” she shrugged, a playful grin forming on her lips. “Bread, fruit, yoghurt…”

Rowan crossed his arms, smiling. “Only bread, fruit and yoghurt?”

His teasing hadn’t been that funny, but Aelin cackled anyway. “Well, I’m not gonna complain if they also happen to have cake and chocolate croissant.”

“Okay…” he focused on his phone for a moment, the corners of his lips still crinkling with amusement, then guided them forward by placing a hand on her back. “Google Maps tells me there’s a store close by, and you can tell me what kind of hotels you like while I buy some toiletries to survive the night.”

The small shopping became a little more, and that’s how they ended up in a hotel room’s balcony, a plastic bag with the essentials waiting inside while they ate hot dogs and shared a bottle of wine, no glasses. They blamed this second dinner on the fancy restaurant with miniature portions, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“This hot dog is so much better than the ones I make.”

Rowan held a finger up, asking for a moment while he finished this bite, and asked, “You cook?”

A smirk just for him. “I don’t. That’s why this is better.”

They both chuckled, Rowan’s eyes glinting while he looked at her in such a way that made her question if tonight’s food was upsetting her stomach. She looked away. “I had to learn for Sellene’s birthday, though.”

“That’s right.” He straightened his posture, recognition in his eyes. “You were so busy, I forgot you were in charge of the food too.”

“I was in charge of everything after Sel’s third beer.” She rolled her eyes playfully. Sellene was such a traitorous bitch. Aelin loved her to death. “That’s why I didn’t pay much attention to the guests, I think.”

Also because she was dating Chaol at the time. But dear Mala, it felt like a waste not properly meeting Rowan that day. The longer she got to know him, the strongest she felt about that party and the 11 months that followed suit.

He chugged wine for the longest time that night before he said, “I had intentions of making myself known once you were free.”

Aelin was too distracted by his mouth on that bottle, but her heart stopped when it finally clicked.

“Really?” She looked deep into his eyes, looking for an answer that went beyond his words.

He nodded. “Really.”

She took the bottle from his hand. It was her time to have some wine.

“It would’ve been nice.”

He didn’t need to answer that. And they both also knew what stopped him that day: Aelin’s boyfriend arriving mid-party.

Still, there was no controlling that bubbly, sparkly feeling inside her that only grew the more she thought about that.

Rowan was ready to hit on her when they first met. Isn’t that the most romantic thing?

For some reason, this time Aelin didn’t feel like shying away from whatever was happening. Just let herself feel, even though she was trying really hard to understand those feelings. She didn’t know how to continue this conversation, though.

“I thought I’d never face a hot dog after Sellene’s birthday party,” she added between bites. The amount of research and preparation Aelin did for that night was crazy. She never knew there’s so much to the art of hot dogs.

“They were a little traumatizing, yes.”

“That’s not what I meant!” She chided in mock offense while handing the bottle to that rude fake boyfriend of hers.

“I’m letting you blame the sausage’s bad quality if you want.”

“I don’t know…” Aelin leaned back on her chair. Her research included which ingredients to buy, it’d end up being her fault too. “I kinda became a sausage specialist for that party—“

She was interrupted by the blaring sound of Rowan gagging and heaving. He had a shocked look on his face, widened eyes aimed at her while he clutched the base of his neck. There was a little wine running down his nose and mouth, and that was probably from the choking.

Aelin dropped her things and started gently stroking his shoulders, even though she knew this wouldn’t actually help. She was somewhere between wanting to soothe him and feeling a little embarrassed after accidentaly making a sexual innuendo so bad Rowan almost choked to death. Literally. Would it be selfish to hope his choking didn’t let him notice the flush on her cheeks?

“That’s embarrassing,” he said a few moments later.

Aelin had already a tissue on her hand when she replied, “You know, you look kinda cute with a wine mustache.”

He snorted, and that little gush of air directly on her fingers weirdly sent goosebumps—

No.

This was supposed to be just about Aelin’s imagination running wild because of Rowan’s irresistibleness. There was no way she…

Aelin removed her hand and gazed at at Rowan. His straight nose and cheekbones had a natural glow from the moonlight. His eyes were gleaming while he looked back at her, and something told her it couldn’t be due to any Yulemas lights that twinkled around them. Mistward was beautiful today, but not nearly as much as that reserved man who had fire in his eyes when he looked at her.

There were so many things she felt like doing while looking at him, but at the same time she didn’t want to change anything at all. Aelin wanted to be in this exact moment forever. With him.

Wine out his nose and all.

Something dawned on her, and Aelin’s eyes widened with the realization.

“Oh my God,” she blurted, her eyes slowly searching his.

“What?” Rowan was still a little hazy.

When their gaze finally settled on each other’s, she quietly confided, “I think I like you.”

Aelin would do everything in her possession to never forget how his face slowly lit up as he processed what she’d said, his confused expression giving away space for him to show her a blinding smile.

He didn’t say anything, though.

At first he just cradled her face, tender strokes on her jaw making her head tilt up while he seemed lost somewhere between her eyes and her lips.

Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

She could see his tongue‘s quickly appear between his lips, wetting them as their faces slowly came together.

Way too slowly.

Impatient, Aelin cradled his face with both hands and closed the distance at once, pressing their lips together. And as soon as she initiated it, his touch seemed as urgent as hers.

Rowan’s hands roamed through her face, neck, shoulders, until they found her waist and pulled her as close as one physically could, making her fall on his lap. With her neck in his mouth’s direction, Rowan decided to take advantage of that. He pecked, licked and sucked that patch of skin until Aelin was writhing on his thigh, silently begging him for something. Even she didn’t know exactly what.

When Rowan started dragging his teeth along her pulse point with a heavenly amount of pressure, Aelin held his shoulders with both hands, adjusting herself just enough to feel his shaft below her thigh.

He groaned. “We don’t have to.”

His voice was so pained it almost sounded comical. It would be, if Aelin wasn’t as excited as he was.

She pulled his hair, making Rowan’s neck arch towards her. He stared at her with parted lips, a mist of hunger and surrender in his eyes.

“I need to.” Aelin wriggled her hips, pressing against him and making him swallow hard.

He started playing with the hem of her dress, and it took a pointed look for her to process that he was still asking for permission.

“Please.”

Rowan sneaked his hands below her dress until both of his hands were full with her ass, and tugged her towards him hard enough to leave a mark.

And that was when their control snapped.

It became a blur of sinful caresses and bruising, urgent kisses until Rowan picked her up. The six steps from the balcony to the bed were the longest of her life.

Between kisses, he began to fumble with her dress. “What’s up with girls and their difficult clothes?”

“Three ties isn’t too much.” She wasn’t even wearing a bra. Aelin laughed, but it was a bit strained.

“They’re obstacles. It’s annoying,” he said while undoing the straps on her shoulders. And frowned. Aelin bit back her laughter while she turned around, showing the last string on her back. “Too much,” he grunted while untying it.

The feel of those thin strands falling on her back left a trail of goosebumps, or maybe it was just the effect of Rowan’s hands on her, along with the anticipation of what was to come.

She mentioned to turn around, but Rowan’s hands had her pinned, laying on her stomach. He gently brushed her long hair aside and kissed her shoulders and back downwards. He brushed his teeth through Aelin’s ass, biting it softly. Her breath hitched, her hips arching his way.

However, Rowan took her panties off, turned her around and started kissing her inner thigh. When Aelin realized where he was headed, she was already whimpering. He was all teasing kisses and warming her up at first, so she wasn’t expecting it when Rowan pressed his tongue against her clit with the perfect amount of pressure, making her cry out and arch her hips. He didn’t mind her pressing herself against his face, though. Not by the way he grabbed her hips hard enough to bruise and kept her there.

The mix of Rowan’s tongue on her clit, his stubble rubbing against her slit and his hands practically squeezing her hips was going to be the death of her. Aelin was panting with shaky legs, moaning his name. Bursting from the inside out, she was seeing stars every time he applied a bit more pressure.

“Ro, I’m so close.”

He just hummed, not ready to get his mouth off her, and plunged two fingers inside her without further notice.

Aelin screamed.

She shattered completely, becoming nothing more than a mess of limbs, holding every piece of the bed sheet she could and squeezing Rowan’s head between her thighs while waves of pleasure ripped through her.

Rowan was above her in a second, kissing her gently. “You okay?”

“That’s really hard to answer right now,” she answered, panting.

He chuckled, seeming a little wrecked as well. “Wanna stop?”

“Fuck, no.”

She pulled him by the hair for another kiss and began to fumble with his pants. Impatient, Rowan rose to pull out his clothes for once and-

Fuck.

Aelin had always thought Rowan looked as gorgeous as one of those ripped guys from ancient statues, but it wasn’t true. His penis was too big for him to be one of them. What a shame. Actually, not a shame at all for Aelin.

Rowan was staring at her, naked with a condom on his hand, his mouth hanging open somewhere between amused and incredulous.

Wait, did she say that out loud?

To avoid further comment, she kneeled on the bed and wrapped her arms around Rowan, kissing him slowly until he melted into her touch. Without breaking the kiss, Aelin started working on his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

When they laid back on the bed, she had never seen a guy put a condom on so fast. To be fair, Aelin was pretty much the same, guiding him towards her entrance as soon as possible.

They started slow, holding on to each other while Rowan pushed into her.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped against her ear as he bottomed her out.

Aelin moaned, wiggling her hips in a silent plea for him to move inside her, which he quickly obliged.

She moaned and marked his back with her nails as he thrusted in with an intense pace. They were completely lost in each other. Moaning, whispering sweet nothings, kissing wherever their mouths could reach. Aelin wrapped her legs around him and her muscles tightened, making him suck in a sharp breath and lose composure.

“Are you close?”

Her affirmative answer sounded a lot like a whimper, but he got the message.

Letting out a shaky breath, that chase made him lose the rhythm they previously found, but Rowan sneaked a hand between their bodies and pressed this thumb to Aelin’s clit.

The grip she had on his shoulders tightened. “Fuck, Ro.”

Her breath shattered when she came to the peak of that crescendo, and he seemed just as intoxicated. It was like Rowan was lighting her on fire, and every explosion was a reason for her to call his name. When the feeling of his thumb on her swollen clit and his cock hitting that spot was too much, Aelin’s hips started to tremble and she came undone in his arms, Rowan’s name on her lips the whole time.

Being pushed over the edge as well, Rowan’s hips stuttered and his whole body tensed, right before he seemed to dissolve above her.

He crashed on her side and gave gentle pecks on her face after disposing the condom, both of them still recomposing themselves.

Staring at the ceiling, Aelin was trying to figure if this was because she hadn’t had sex for almost a year, or if Rowan was just that good. She needed to try again to be certain.

He turned to her and cradled Aelin in his arms, giving her a peck in the forehead. Rowan studied her face, looking for something until she looked up at him, her uncertain face slowly giving space to a shy grin.

Aelin adjusted herself on his arms and let him lazily caress her body.

She always suspected sex with Rowan would be good, but dear Mala. It was almost too much, his cock and tongue and fingers wearing her out until she combusted so much she felt she could die in that bed. Well, if Aelin really thought of it, those orgasms were well deserved. She needed them, since she didn’t have her sleeping pills right now. Should she thank Santa? It was probably Yulemas Eve by now.

Aelin let out a happy sigh and Rowan affectionately squeezed her, resting his face on the crown of her head.

She mentally sent Santa a thumbs up, not caring that he doesn’t actually exist or that Rowan didn’t like him as a kid.

There were hands brushing her hair back and stroking her arms.

What a nuisance.

Aelin rolled over to the other side of the bed, trying to fall back into that deep slumber she was in.

The mattress dipped beside her, and the covers Aelin had just placed covering her face were gently pushed aside.

It was going to be one of those days, then.

“I sneaked out some mini chocolate croissant for you.”

Interesting.

“I’m awake,” she mumbled.

Chuckling, Rowan continued to run his fingers through her hair when she sat on the bed, eyes still closed. Aelin leaned into his touch. For Mala’s sake, did that man know how to touch her everywhere?

His fingers brushed against her lower lip. “Want some?”

When Aelin closed her mouth with the mini croissant Rowan put there, it was a delicious explosion of butter, chocolate and that delicious crackling crust flooding her senses. Her shoulders dropped and she moaned, overwhelmed by pastry heaven.

Rowan’s hand on her hair stilled, so Aelin finally had reason enough to open her eyes. How dare he stop? Aelin rubbed her eyes and cracked them open to complain, only to see Rowan staring at her with darkened eyes and parted lips.

Well, that was one look to wake her up with. Smirking, she let her covers drop just a little. Just to tease him, since he knew damn well she had nothing underneath.

Before she could think, Rowan was face to face with her on the bed. “You know, we have a few hours between breakfast and check-out time.” He dropped kisses on her jaw and neck, a sweet invite to continue last night’s activity.

Aelin started looking for her clothes on the floor, but she found them folded on the chair. So organized. Her boyfri-

Oh, fuck.

They needed to talk, didn’t they?

Aelin grabbed her things and locked herself in the bathroom. Her mind was going a mile a minute.

During her shower, she wondered about the broken promise of her year-long celibacy. Well, being tore apart by Rowan was much cooler than that. But what was supposed to happen now?

Aelin stared at herself in the mirror while she brushed her teeth. Was it a one-time thing? She’d stay with his family for at least one more week, would she manage to stay away from him? Would she want to stay away from him? No probably not.

God, her hair was a mess. And she didn’t have enough supplies to make her effortful effortless makeup look. Aelin sighed. Maybe she’d just start the conversation and see what Rowan’s expectations were. He didn’t seem like the guy who would run away from something remotely serious and dread becoming more, but still. Also, he knew damn well she’d had enough of this type of guy for a lifetime already. It’s not like Aelin was looking for a husband, for Mala’s sake, some reliable company or even something casually serious would be just fine.

Out of the bathroom, Rowan was on the bed with his phone, while her own was on a charger he borrowed from reception. He looked up at her, and Aelin’s heart melted with the fond look in his eyes.

“I want to talk about last night.”

Rowan put his phone down. “What about it?”

“Well…” she began tracing circles on the mattress with her finger, trying to think of a good way to start. “It changes things, don’t you think?”

“I don’t see why we should change anything.”

Aelin held on a sigh. Of course. Flashbacks from every reason why she started a dating hiatus popped in her mind, except this one was worse because she already has feelings—

“I mean,” he continued, “We already agreed on dating, right?”

Her heart stopped. What?

“No, we agreed on fake dating,” she carefully explained. “Now we’re redefining things, but it seems like we’re fake dating with benefits.”

“What’s the difference between dating and fake dating with benefits?”

God, she wished she had the simple mind of a man. After explaining everything in detail, Rowan seemed just as lost.

“Sounds the same to me. I’ll just keep calling you my girlfriend.” He scratched the back of his neck. “If that’s okay with you?”

It was perfect, actually. Aelin’s smile was so wide it was an answer on itself. “We’re dating, then?”

“We were always dating.”

“Absolutely not!”

“I introduced you to my parents and told them you’re my girlfriend. That’s dating to me.”

Aelin shook her head. Because they were fake dating, but Rowan didn’t have basic trope knowledge. “But we weren’t getting physical!”

Rowan crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. “Yet.”

She mirrored his posture, eyebrows raised. “Is that so?”

“I had big plans of seducing you after your dating hiatus.”

Aelin’s jaw dropped, but it quickly became a huge grin. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. “And what did these plans entail?”

He turned her around and guided her towards the door with both hands gripping her waist. “I’ll show you after breakfast,” he whispered on her ear by the time her hand reached the doorknob.

Well, that was some surprising plot twist in her celibate year.

Aelin was still quite sure love is an unreliable bitch.

However, things were looking really good for her this time.

A/N: If you got to this point, thank you for reading and not giving up on my writing after I kinda disappeared for a while! Specially for reading a holiday fic mid-March lol. So uncool of me. I’m a little embarrassed about that, if you can’t tell. Ha. Let’s hope next time I finish at least before I take the decorations down, huh?

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#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #tog au #throne of glass fic #aelin and rowan #fake dating #faking yulemas

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mermazeablaze · 1 year ago

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If you have leftover cranberry sauce whether homemade or canned, whole berry or jellied - do yourself a favor & make a parfait out of it. My mom used to make my brother & I cranberry sauce parfaits around the holidays.

She would coat the bottom of a plastic cup with whipped cream, then add cranberry sauce, top with canned (pitted) dark cherries/pie filling, generous layer of dark cherry/mixed berry/vanilla Greek yogurt, another layer of cranberry sauce & cherries/pie filling & then top with more whipped cream.

It's fucking delicious.

#easy recipes #cheap recipes #holiday recipe #Thanksgiving #Christmas #Yule #Yulemas #Turkey Day #New Years Eve #Winter Solstice #Happy Holidays #cranberry #cherry #yogurt #parfait #whipped cream #memories #childhood

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shadowhandss60 · 1 year ago

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Rowan: “Are you really reading smut at the table? It’s Yulemas, we have guests.”

Aelin: “Shhhh, there’s only one bed at the inn.”

Dorian across the table, also reading: *gasp* “There’s only one bed at the inn.”

#throne of glass #dorian havilliard #dorian and aelin #rowan whitethorn #manon blackbeak #manorian #rowaelin #throne of glass meme #sjm universe

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verperina · 1 year ago

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It Was Just for One Night

Pairing: Dorian Havilliard x f!reader

Summary: What was only supposed to be a one-time thing turns into a two-time thing.

Warnings: 18+ smut

Word Count: 5,666

Author's Note: This is my first time writing in a while and my first time writing for Throne of Glass/SJM’s work. I’ve never published anything on here before, so please don’t be too harsh. I hate the dialogue and the smut, but oh well. Massive credit to @autumnshighlady for helping me with the smut and for being so kind.

You feel the faint touch of a phantom hand ghost along the skin of your bare back, leaving goosebumps. You suppress a shudder. You could feel a pair of eyes burning into the side of your face, making your heart beat faster. You raised the glass of red wine to your lips and swallowed a mouthful down, trying to appear calm with your father standing beside you, conversing with another lord. They were talking about something that you had no interest in or care enough to act like you were listening to them.

His eyes were on you. Watching you. Always watching you. You finally let your eyes meet the king’s gaze and they were filled with pure hunger and desire. His sapphire eyes slowly trailed the entire length of your body, taking in the dark navy satin dress that had been gifted to you this morning. You weren’t even aware who had gifted you the dress, but it was obvious now. From the way his lips twitched and the hunger in his eyes became more and more apparent.

It had only been a month since you and Dorian had slept together. A drunken fueled haze that had been filled with pure carnal desire. It was a one-time thing. You knew it would never happen again, but it didn’t mean that you would if it did. He had been a very generous and a very passionate lover. Making sure that you had found release, multiple times, before finding his own. When he finished, he asked if you were okay, dressed himself and left your chambers and that was it. You weren’t expecting anything after. It would be foolish to think so.

You were surprised that the king had chosen you of all people to bed. You had heard that when Dorian was still the prince he was a harlot, so surely it wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone more appealing since he’s the King of Adarlan.

After that night there were times when both of you would be in the same room and you would make yourself never look in his direction, or he would talk to your father about diplomatic matters and rather quickly, you would excuse yourself. You didn’t want anyone to find out. You could only imagine the scandal it would cause.

An older man was talking to Dorian, and the king nodded his head, pretending that he was listening. His crown gleaming in the light, rings decorating his long fingers, dressed exquistely, and seated on his throne full of pride. He was beautiful and he knew it too.

You forced yourself to divert your gaze, focusing instead on the people dancing to the music and the decorations that adorned the room for the Yulemas ball. But you felt it again. That phantom touch. And this time, it wasn’t faint. It felt more apparent. More forceful.

The touch stroked the length of your spine before landing on the curve of your backside, trailing downwards until it reached the back of your thigh, and gave a soft squeeze. You purse your lips as your hand clenches the stem of the wine glass, face warming, and you quickly glance at your father and the other lord, making sure they weren’t paying attention to what was happening, before looking back toward Dorian to see his eyes were still on you. He wasn’t even trying to hide the smug look on his face.

Arrogant prick. You couldn’t believe he was choosing to do this in a room full of people. Especially with your father right next to you. You shot a subtle look at Dorian, but it only seemed to amuse him. He cocked his head to the side, a mocking gesture, daring you to do something. The tension was starting to become too much.

You swallowed.

“I’m going out to the garden for some air,” you said quietly to your father. He waved his hand in dismissal and continued his conversation with the man. You placed your glass down on the nearest table and began weaving your way through the crowds of people, careful to not get anyone’s wine on your dress. You could feel Dorian’s gaze burning through the back of your head, following your every movement.

When you walked outside you inhaled the air, welcoming it into your lungs and letting the cold breeze cool your flushed body. Everything had felt too warm and crowded inside that room. Too overwhelming.

Snow fell from the sky, landing on the ground and kissing it a beautiful white. A few snowflakes landed in your hair. The wind was lightly blowing, making your skin prickle. You pulled a single rose from a bush, careful to not cut your fingers on any of the thorns. The rose was a deep, luscious shade of red with soft petals. You lifted the flower to your nose and inhaled its sweet and floral scent. There was a soft crunch in the snow behind you. Footsteps. You didn’t have to turn around to know who they belonged to.

“That is a very beautiful dress,” Dorian said, his voice smooth. You turned your head to the side and met his gaze. Pure mirth in his stare. His raven black hair shining in the moonlight. “You look rather flustered.”

You kept your face blank, feeling a small hint of annoyance starting to bubble up inside of you. “Are you mad?”

Dorian quirked an eyebrow. “No, ‘Your Majesty’?”

A roll of your eyes. “Are you mad, Your Majesty?”

He grinned. “Ask me tomorrow.”

"My father was right there,” you huffed. “He could have seen. Anyone could have seen.”

“Yes, but no one did.”

“I’m not an exhibsionist.”

“I apologize, my lady.” He gave a mocking bow.

“Is this a game to you?” you ask, turning to face him fully.

His brows slightly furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You had your fun. We both did,” you explained. “It was a one-time thing, so why did you give me this dress and why did you do that in there?”

He was quiet for a moment, studying you, and then he said, “What if I want it to become a two-time thing?”

“Why? What’s in it for you?” you say cautiously. Surely, he wasn’t serious.

“I get to enjoy your presence once more,” he answered. “I rather enjoyed myself the last time.”

You try to hide your surprise, but he caught it. You kept your eyes on him, furrowing your eyebrows, and wondered why he wanted to sleep together again, with you, when he could have anyone else. You weren’t completely turned-off to the idea. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought about it.

In the dead of night, you would let your fingers slip inside your wet cunt and fantasize about his hands wrapping around your throat, his teeth tugging on your nipple, and his cock thrusting inside of you. The sound of his groans and your moans, both of your bodies slick with sweat. You felt a flutter low in your stomach. Your throat bobbed.

“We could enjoy each other’s company once more.”

“What if someone finds out?” You cross your arms across your chest. “It would make things difficult for you, but mostly for me.”

“The guards wouldn’t say anything,” he reassured.

You raised an eyebrow. “Surely the absence of your presence has been noted.”

“I announced that I was retiring for the night and told everyone to continue partying.”

“What if someone sees?”

“Everyone is too busy drinking and dancing,” he paused for a moment, looking you up and down, noticing that your body was stiff. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you not want to? If not, then it’s fine, I don’t mean to place pressure on you.”

You could tell that Dorian’s words were genuine. His face was soft and patient, waiting for you to respond. “I want to,” you admitted. His eyes became bright at your words. “I just don’t want to complicate things.” He waited for you to continue. “You’re the King of Adarlan. I don’t think people would be pleased to know that you’ve bedded me. I would probably be seen as a woman who tempted the king for money and power; as a whore.”

“It's no one's business what I do, or what you do. I am the king. My guards know to keep their mouths shut, especially the ones that are stationed outside my chambers. If anyone does find out, then you can come to me, and I will deal with it.”

You thought about it for a moment, weighing your options, and glanced around the garden to see that it was still empty. You met his gaze once more and nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice coming out low. He took a step closer to you.

“Yes.” You licked your lips, and his eyes trailed the movement. You took a step forward, glancing at his lips, tilting your head upwards and parting your lips slightly, giving him permission to kiss you. His hand came to cup your face, his thumb lightly stroking the side of your cheek while his other hand settled on your hip, giving it a hard squeeze.

Your bodies were pressed against each other, and it was then that you could feel the hardness of his cock through his trousers. You leaned your head forward, feeling his breathe as your lips were about to connect-

You jerked back as you let out a low hiss of pain as one of the thorns sliced into the tip of your index finger. A bead of blood pooled at the cut, making your skin sting. Dorian plucked the flower from your hand and brought your finger close to his face, his eyes inspecting the small cut and then he looked at you, a sly look on his face.

“You need to be more careful, dove.” He brought your finger to his lips, pressing light kisses onto the skin slowly, as if savoring the taste of the salt on your skin mixed with your blood. His tongue replaced his lips, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath hitched and you could feel wetness start to pool in between your thighs. His teeth harshly nipped at the skin, making a small noise escape your throat. “Dorian,” you moaned quietly. “Please.” Your toes curled. He tossed the rose on the ground, releasing your finger, and brought your lips to his.

His lips were cold but soft, and you ran your hands through his thick hair, your nails lightly scraping his scalp. You swallowed the groan that left his mouth. His hands are roughly squeezing your backside, pushing you closer to him. He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth as you pressed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the aching tension.

“Not here,” you breathed.

He nodded and grabbed your hand, walking both of you out of the garden and through a door that had no one near it, and led the two of you back inside the castle. You had to walk fast to keep up with the strides of his long legs. The halls that he led you through were thankfully empty, not even the guards were positioned in the hallway, it looked like any rarely came through this way. He squeezed your hand and brushed his thumb across your knuckles.

The hall to where his chambers came into view and the guards stationed outside didn’t so much as flinch as Dorian neared the door. They only gave a respectful bow to their king, averting their eyes, and pretended to not notice that his hand was interlaced with yours, or that his lips were swollen, and the tanned skin of his cheeks were flushed.

He pushed open the door and led you through his room, quickly closing the door. You stopped in the middle of the room and noticed it was rather untidy; books were open and lying on his desk and the table by the sofa, his bed was unmade, and a few of his clothes were on the floor. But it smelled like him. So much like Dorian.

Your back was facing Dorian, his footsteps sounding closer, the sound of his crown being placed gently on a table, and then he was right behind you. His front pressed against your back, the warmth of his body seeping into you. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before grabbing your chin, making you meet his gaze, sapphire eyes were blazing. His forehead rested against yours. “I need to hear you say it.”

Your breathing was growing heavier.

“Yes. Please.”

His hand released your chin, moving your head back to its original position and his free hand came to rest on your hip. His hand then wrapped around your throat, squeezing softly, and tilted your head back. Dorian’s lips were brushing the shell of your ear before his teeth tugged on the lobe of your ear, biting gently.

The hand on your waist moved until it was settled right above your pelvis, pushing you back so you could feel his cock. You slightly shifted your hips, grinding your ass on his hardened length, and you were pleased when a low groan left him.

He left a trail of rough kisses down the column of your throat, teeth occasionally nipping and harshly sucking on the flesh, marking you as his. Quiet moans escaping your lips as you let your body lean more into him.

The thin strap of your dress fell down your shoulder, exposing your collarbone. Phantom hands came to cup your breasts through the flimsy material of your dress, squeezing before pinching your peaked nipples, hard.

A hiss left you, arching your back away from his body, but his hand pushed you back against him and held you tightly, and grabbed your face again, placing his lips on yours. The tip of your tongue meeting his own. Heat bloomed in your core. He bit your bottom lip as he removed the dress from your body and let it fall to the floor. You turned around, arms snaking around his neck and pulling at the thick strands of his hair.

Both of his hands grabbed yours as he pulled his lips away from yours. Breathing heavily, he guided you toward his large bed. His cheeks were a flushed red and his once neat hair was messy from you dragging your fingers through it.

You climbed onto the bed and sat up on your knees, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and kissed him again. His hand came to cup the side of your ass, his blunt fingernails lightly scratching before a harsh smack came down, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Your body jolted forward and you let out a loud, breathy moan. You felt yourself becoming more aroused.

“You like how that feels?” Dorian asked. Another harsh smack came down, on the opposite side this time, when you didn’t answer. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” you groaned, head tipping back in pleasure.

“I’m going to take good care of you.” The words sounded like a promise.

You tugged off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. You took off his tunic next, revealing the pale line on his tan skin from where the collar had been, and strong, firm muscle. Your hand came to cup his cock through his black trousers. Dorian hissed, eyebrows slightly creasing together in pleasure. You press light kisses on the pale part of his neck, sucking harshly, leaving love bites of your own and running your tongue over the bruised flesh.

He grabbed you by the neck, putting his lips back on yours. His kiss was deliberately slow. Teasing. Savoring the taste of the red wine on your lips. His fingers are pulling at the hair at the nape of your neck. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, wanting to feel the hardness of his length against your stomach. Fingertips pressing into the curve of your neck as his tongue sweeps over your mouth.

You moan into the kiss, feeling his phantom hands squeezing your ass, tracing the band of your underwear. His fingertips brush over your nipples. They’re cold with his ice magic. You shiver and his mouth curves in delight. The tip of Dorian’s nail grazes the hardened bud before he bends down and takes your nipple in his mouth. Your underwear is sticky with your arousal.

He keeps his eyes on you, watching how your head tips back, how your lips part as you begin moaning breathily. He rolls your other nipple between his thumb and index finger, leaving goosebumps on your skin from the coldness of his flesh. He sucks roughly, moaning around the bud as you pull at his hair, and then he tugs at your nipple with his teeth. His tongue laps over it before he begins sucking again.

“Feels so good,” you mumble, trying to catch your breath. You can feel him grin in satisfaction.

Dorian releases the abused flesh and he starts repeating the same motions on the other nipple, but this time it’s harsher, more animalistic. His hand starts trailing down your stomach and then cups your clothed cunt. A chuckle leaves his lips at what he found. “You’re so wet.”

He dips his hand in your underwear and runs a finger through your folds. You start to slowly move your hips, rubbing your clit on the heel of his palm to relieve the aching tension. “Stay still,” he warns, “or I’ll stop.” You groan in frustration, but comply, hesitantly. He circles the entrance to your hole, gathering the wetness that had pooled there, and then slips a finger inside of you.

Your back arches the same time as you let out a choked moan. You clench around him, fighting the urge to rub your clit against his palm. Painfully slow, in a teasing manner, he thrusts his finger in and out. He takes his time in stretching you out. Your voice is husky as you say, “Kiss me.” You open your eyes to see that he’s already looking at you. Pure desire in his gaze.

“Kiss me,” you repeat again. He obliges. There’s nothing gentle or soft about the kiss. It’s messy and fast and rough. Your teeth are clashing against each other, desperate to taste each other. Your breaths are labored, trying to breathe in more air.

He enters a second finger and when you gasp, he shoves his tongue inside your mouth. You dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders before brushing your thumbs over his nipples.

“Since that night I’ve thought of doing this again,” Dorian admitted. “I fucked myself to the thought of you. Imagining it was you stroking my cock.”

His words made you clench around his fingers. You could picture it. His eyes closed, head leaning back against the pillows, and his hand gripping his cock, squeezing hard. His groans coming out hoarsely, loudly. There was a sense of triumph in knowing that you had made the King of Adarlan fantasize about you. It was satisfying.

“So have I,” you also admitted.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

You swallowed. “I shoved my fingers inside my cunt and wished that it was yours instead. I thought of your tongue on my cunt, of your hand around my throat and your cock inside me.”

Dorian’s fingers thrust faster the same time phantom hands tug at your nipples, a warm feeling blooming low in your stomach. Your moans were coming out in short gasps. “Dorian.” Your fingernails leave marks on his broad shoulders and your head tips back. “I’m so close.” The pressure that had been building was becoming more intense. He whispers words of encouragement and praise.

And with a curl of his fingers you cry out, arching your body into him as your orgasm hits you. Your breath comes out in stutters, your body jerking and your knees trembling. His phantom hands help keep you upright. He coaxes you through it. And when your moans cease, he very slowly removes his fingers from your cunt with a squelching sound.

He brings them to his face, inspecting the wet sheen on them. Dorian smiles. “Look at how soaked you are.” Your arousal coats his entire hand, dripping down to his wrist. And while he keeps his eyes locked on yours, he puts his digits into his mouth and tastes your juices. Your breath hitches. His sapphire eyes darken considerably.

The palm of his hand rests on your collarbone and he gently pushes you until your back is lying on the bed. He reaches forward and rips off the lacy material of your underwear. After tossing them across the room he takes a step back and greedily takes in the sight of you; a thin sheen of sweat is covering your body, your nipples are red and swollen from where he sucked and bit on them, and your cunt is dripping wet.

“I need you,” your voice snaps Dorian out of his daze.

He starts to undo the button of trousers and pushes them down, removing his undershorts also. He steps out of them quickly and tosses them aside, and his cock slaps against his abdomen hard. You take in the sight; the fine patch of dark hair, the tip of his cock is red and leaking with his arousal.

You lick your lips, desperate to have his cock in your mouth. The previous time you fucked each other, you only briefly got to lick him, and you had forgotten what he’d tasted like.

He wraps a hand around his cock, giving it a firm stroke. He hisses. “You see what you do to me?”

Dorian walks forward, kneels on the bed and uses his phantom hands to restrain your wrists to the mattress. He lowers himself between your legs and an almost pained look crosses his features as he stares at your core, wet and gleaming for him.

It was a slow torture, him slowly kissing the inside of your thighs, nipping at skin and leaving love bites. His thumbs draw circles into your hips, and you keep squirming, wanting his tongue on your most sensitive part, but he seemed keen on the idea to tease you.

“Dorian,” you rasped. He would continue teasing until you begged for it. It’s what he wanted. You held his gaze and watched as he waited, a grin was on his face, but you could see his body trembling with restraint to keep himself from ravishing you. “Please.”

He cocks his head to the side, mockingly, and his grin is feline. “Because you asked nicely. . .”

Dorian took a long, languid lick up the center of your core. You let out a moan in relief and your eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling of his tongue sliding up and down you, tasting you thoroughly. He peppers kisses along your cunt before he starts licking again.

One of his hands comes up to pinch your nipple and you buck your hips against his face, but he throws an arm across your waist to keep you still. He wraps his lips directly around your clit and you cry out as he starts sucking the sensitive nub. You struggle against the phantom hands that bound your wrists. You want to run your fingers through his hair grind against his face.

Grabbing your thighs, Dorian drapes them over his shoulders to hold you closer and keeps his eyes pinned to your face. He wanted to watch you come on his tongue. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling ever so slightly.

“Right there,” you gasp.

You watch as he presses his hips hard against the mattress and begins rutting against it, a soft groan leaving him and it vibrates through your core.

You try to free your hands from his magic, but it doesn’t budge. “Let me touch you.” You look at him with pleading eyes. “Please, let me touch you.” Finally, those phantom hands release their grip on you.

Your body writhes and your fingers rake through his black hair to push him closer, nails scratching along his scalp. Your cries of pleasure encourage him to keep going. His teeth scraping your clit is what makes you climax. His fingers quicken their pace, tongue moving faster, letting you ride out your high.

It leaves you trembling with needing more, but Dorian removes his tongue and fingers from you and leans back on his knees. His eyes linger on your abused cunt before he looks at you and you stare at him, too. Blue eyes full of adoration. His hair was in disarray, cheeks a pretty shade of pink, and his chin and lips were coated with your arousal but he didn’t seem to care.

He looked devastating.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he grabbed you by the hips and turned you around so you were on your knees, ass in the air, and the side of your face was pressed against the sheets. His hand left a hard smack across your ass cheek making a yelp escape your lips. Dorian’s hands once again grab your hips to bring you close to his face, and his fingers tease your entrance, and you arch your back, urging him to bring you another orgasm again.

He laughed teasingly. “So eager, dove.”

He sticks his tongue inside of your cunt and your entire body shudders. He moans, as if this is pleasuring him just as much as it is you. The taste of you was going to haunt him after this was over. The essence of you would haunt him.

He presses his fingers inside your leaking hole and the pace is fast, desperate to draw a third orgasm from you. Dorian wanted you to come again, and again, and again. He needed you to come again.

Another harsh slap to your ass has you moaning out his name. Your hands clutch the sheets tightly and you rock your hips against his face, and unlike last time, he doesn’t try to make you stay still. He lets you grind yourself on his face and makes his phantom hands rock your hips to move them faster. The tips of his fingers would leave bruises from how hard their grip was.

Lewd noises were coming out of his mouth and your face warmed from the sounds.

Your body trembles as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly and you feel yourself come again. A loud cry echoing against the walls of his room. He hums against your cunt, letting the vibrations further stimulate you. It isn’t until your whimpering that he finally relents. You’re panting, strands of hair clinging to your forehead, and your knees give out beneath you.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Dorian praised. He presses a kiss against your spine. And then another. His hand rubbing your red backside from the slaps he gave. His ice magic soothing the tender skin.

“Dorian,” you mumble.

“Are you okay?” he asks, running a strong hand down the length of your spine gently. Your skin prickles.

You manage a weak nod.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” you murmur. Your eyelids were heavy and the perspiration felt sticky on the nape of your neck.

He helps turn you around so you’re laying on your back. You drink in the sight of him and he does the same. Dorian’s lips were shining with your arousal and his cock looked painfully hard. You wanted to kiss him. You reached out a trembling hand, and he eyed it before taking hold of it and leaning over you, bracing his body weight on his elbows. His nose brushes yours softly.

“Kiss me,” you breathe. He brought his mouth to yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue. You were both frantic and desperate, and didn’t want to pull your mouths apart from each other.

You cup his face, rubbing your thumb along the sharp cheekbone as your other hand played with the strands of his hair. His body was trembling and whatever self-control he had left was slipping away.

You reach a hand down, gripping his length and give it a lazy stroke. He makes a soft noise at the touch, slowly moving his hips as you start pressing kisses onto his collarbones. His forehead resting on top of yours, eyes closed and savoring the moment. You run your thumb over the slit, gathering moisture before giving a gentle squeeze that makes a low growl leave Dorian. That last bit of self-control was completely gone.

He takes his cock and lines the head of it up with your cunt and in one motion, he fully sheaths himself inside of you. A sigh of contentment leaves the pair of you. His pace starts off slow, languid. Your hips roll against his, trying to find a rhythm that matches. His hands roam over the sides of your body before landing on your plush hips. Fingertips digging into your flesh.

“Tell me how you feel.” He licked the side of your throat.

“Good,” you pant. “So good.”

“You like me being inside you?” His tone was teasing, mocking, but you could hear how gravelly he sounded.

“Yes.”

He presses kisses to your lips, your neck, your collarbones, the swell of your breasts. Tongue flicking over both nipples. Your legs lock around his trim waist, bringing him closer to you and you clench tightly around him, and his hips jerk, drawing two mirrored moans of pleasure from you both. Your head tips back in bliss and your entire body is buzzing from pleasure.

Dorian’s eyes were a shade of blue so dark they looked like the freezing cold waters of the sea. He moans out your name like a prayer and dips down to kiss you again, as if one isn’t enough. Your hands run up and down his chest, the tip of your nail scraping his nipple. His thrusts were becoming rougher, deeper, more punishing than before. Your breasts bouncing with every snap of his hips.

One of his phantom hands started rubbing your clit and a low pressure was beginning to bloom in your belly, making a breathy gasp leave you. The walls of your cunt start contracting. Hot, heavy, open-mouthed kisses leave a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. It was messy. Both of you were moaning into each other’s mouth. Both of you sounded so needy.

Dorian buried his face into the crook of your neck. A cry left your lips as his teeth bit down on your skin. His thrusts were brutal, each one bringing you closer to the edge, hips snapping into yours hard enough that the headboard was banging against the wall. He obviously didn’t care if someone heard. And neither did you. The fingers on your clit were moving faster and your body was shaking. “Please, please, please. . .”

That familiar coil settled in your lower abdomen snaps. Your back arching off the bed as you come, the walls of your cunt clenching around him rhythmically, and you bury your forehead into the crook of his neck. Nails leaving red marks on his shoulders and down his back, and toes curling from the overstimulation.

Dorian fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder and his thrusts harsher; he was going to come. He breathes out a desperate, pleading noise, leaning down until his forehead is pressed against yours. He fucks into you harder. The sound of skin-on-skin reverberating through the room. You give him words of encouragement, pressing quick kisses to his lips.

He comes with a deep, guttural groan. His hips stuttering. And you feel his seed spill into you as he rides out his high, fingertips gripping your hips so tight bruises would probably appear. His thrusts start to slow down before eventually stopping, and he pauses for a moment, panting heavily, before collapsing on top of you, unable to hold himself up any longer.

You brush back the damp strands of hair that cling to his forehead. Both of your bodies are shaking and slick with sweat. His breath tickles your skin.

There were no noises in the room anymore save for the sounds of both of you gasping for air, but it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. Dorian’s fingers loosened their tight grip on your hips and rubbed the flesh tenderly. A sigh of contentment left you. A passionate and generous lover indeed.

You could feel him start to grow restless. You unlocked your legs from around his waist and he gently pulled out from you with an almost inaudible hiss, and rolled onto his back right beside you, trying to catch his breath. The air in the room grew cold, his magic cooling the both of you off.

Your limbs felt heavy and you could feel his seed spilling out from you. You closed your eyes for a moment, still feeling the tingling sensation all over your body. Deep down you knew that no one would ever fuck you as good as Dorian just had. You didn’t know if this would happen again or if people would find out that you had fucked their king.

A small part of you inside felt sad knowing that you would be staying at the castle for only one more month before leaving to go back to your city. But you knew it was just sex. You didn’t expect anything more. It would be foolish to.

You could feel Dorian’s eyes burning into the side of your head, his lips parting. “Perhaps we should do this again.” The words were spoken nonchalantly, but you picked up on the tinge of nervousness. “Make it a three-time thing.”

You lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, making yourself appear calm, and felt a grin tugging at your lips. “Maybe.”

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