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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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riotwritten · 2 years ago

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Thoughts on Rest

Many people in "witch spaces" such as TikTok, Twitter, etc. Will say "It's winter, a time for rest and recovery" but then shame when people take a break from their craft. Winter can be harsh or calm, listen to your body and mind. If you need just a day of rest, do it. If you need a week of recovery, do it. If you need to take a month off from witchcraft feel free, no one should be judged for taking a breather. So go on and do what you need to. Without rest or breaks you can't move forward. Try to focus on yourself, make some tea, water the plants, cozy up with a pet or a book, and definitely take care of your needs first.

#witch community #witchcraft #baby witch #witch #witch tips #eclectic witch #witchy #thoughts #witchy thoughts #winter #yulemas #rest

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lulughna · 5 days 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 · 3 days 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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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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goddess-aelin · 27 days ago

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Ok you guys convinced me! I'll be hosting a Rowaelin Yulemas Swap for this year. I know it's sort of late but I'm hoping that we can sort of hammer one out quickly and easily.

Please fill out THIS google form here to sign up and please also make sure to fill out your likes and dislikes! This helps your secret Santa to gift you something perfectly tailored to you. Like last year, both fanfic and hand-drawn art are accepted. NO AI please!

The form will close THIS Wednesday, December 4th. I know it's not a lot of time to sign up but given how late we're starting this, we have to get names out ASAP. Also because of how late it is, I'm extending the gift-giving deadline. I think any time between December 23-30 will be good to get your gift out and tag your secret Santa giftee in the post. I will be sending out your names on Friday, December 6th so keep a lookout for those this week!

Happy Rowaelin Yulemas 😁🎅

#rowaelin #rowaelin yulemas swap #rowaelinyulemasswap #rowan whitethorn #Aelin galathynius #throne of glass #tog #rowaelin fanfiction #sarah j maas #sjm

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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

Text

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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elentiyawhitethorn · 2 years ago

Text

Like a Dream

CW: language, sexual references, light drinking

AN: Happy Yulemas @goddess-aelin!! Or I guess New Year’s now… this is very late but I hope you enjoy it all the same, and I hope your holidays have been lovely ❤️

8047 words

“I’m sure you’ve wondering been wondering what this is about.”

Rowan shifted uncomfortably. Lorcan, his boss, had requested his presence in his office several hours ago, and the day had passed with relatively little worry.

Even upon seeing Aelin Galathynius, someone whom he very much did not want to be in the same room as, waiting in Lorcan’s office as well, he hadn’t felt concern. It was probably just an update to policy or something similar. Hell, maybe the coffee machine had broken and Lorcan wanted them to inform their departments.

But then Lorcan had greeted them, and asked them to sit, and stated that he knew they’d been curious about the topic of this summons.

And a pit of anxiety had opened in Rowan’s stomach.

Lorcan Salvaterre was not a man to make small talk. He didn’t wait for others, he didn’t bother with light conversation, and he wasn’t friendly.

Which meant he was about to tell Rowan and Aelin something that they wouldn’t like, and not a small thing like they’d have to coordinate a client together or share the break room sometimes, because Lorcan had no trouble breaking bad news. Something worse, something bad enough to have the bluntest man Rowan knew stalling to conversation.

Rowan took a deep breath and said, “What is it?” He didn’t dare look to Aelin beside him.

Lorcan leaned forward and laced his fingers together on the desk. “You both know of Dorian Havilliard.”

Of course they did. He was one of the biggest names in romance writing in the country. Their publishing house had been trying to get him to switch over from Hamel Inc. for years, but they’d had no luck.

“Yes,” Aelin said, and Rowan jolted at the sound of her voice. He finally risked a glance and was met with startling blue eyes rimmed in gold.

Rowan looked away.

“Well, as you know, Terrasen Publishing has been working on him for years.”

Rowan’s fingers tapped against his thigh impatiently as Lorcan restated what he already knew.

“We’ve finally convinced him to discuss the possibility of switching over.”

Considering the meeting, Rowan was hardly surprised. It also made sense for the two of them to be here; Rowan was head of the editorial department and Aelin was his counterpart in publishing. Together, they represented most of the publishing house and were often paired together when it came to potential clients.

It was the easy explanation for this meeting that had Rowan on edge. This didn’t make clear Lorcan’s apprehension.

“And what do we need to do?” Rowan asked cautiously.

Lorcan sighed. “Mr. Havilliard is working on his next book. He predicts the first draft will be finished soon; he’s using his Yulemas vacation to get it completed. And he doesn’t want any delay on the editing process, which means if we haven’t convinced him to switch contracts by the end of his vacation, he’ll remain a part of Hamel Inc.”

A sinking feeling formed in Rowan’s gut.

“He’s leaving for his vacation tomorrow,” Lorcan continued, “and even if we could have managed a short meeting before then, he needs more time with us to discuss logistics and a contract for him. He needs time to see everything we have to offer.”

“I’m sure he’d be open to discussing it over Zoom or even email,” Aelin suggested, and from the waver to her voice Rowan guessed she’d caught on as well.

“Mr. Havilliard is traveling to a resort in the mountains for his vacation, where there will be no cell service. He says the lack of distraction helps him concentrate. He graciously offered two fully paid tickets for any of my employees who would like to join him. You two will be traveling with Mr. Havilliard on his Yulemas trip. You leave first thing in the morning.”

Silence washed over the office as the pair of them took everything in. Rowan opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“I don’t recall expressing my desire to join him,” Aelin protested.

“Me neither,” Rowan managed.

Lorcan sighed once more. “Look, let’s face it. You two aren’t going home to your families for Yulemas and you don’t have any significant others to celebrate with. Everyone else, including myself, is not completely void of a social life and has plans for the holidays. You two are lonely as shit and I’m taking advantage of that.”

Aelin’s mouth had dropped open at some point during that little spiel but Rowan was used to Lorcan’s blunt transparency. He was honestly relieved that Lorcan had given up on trying to break it to them slowly. He liked the man, even—if he could manage to overlook the fact that he was being asked to spend his holidays on a work trip with his least favorite coworker.

Okay, maybe he didn’t like Lorcan so much after all.

“You can’t just,” Aelin spluttered, “I, my vacation, it’s my time off, you can’t…”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Galathynius, but this was his only offer and we’re in no position to deny him. If it helps, Mr. Havilliard alloted only a certain amount of time to meet with you as he wants most of the time to write his novel. And as I mentioned, he paid for the tickets and everything else that comes along with them. You’ll be spending most of your Yulemas holiday in a high-end resort doing whatever the hell you like. I’d say it’s a step up from whatever you were planning to do instead.”

Rowan leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “Surely not both of us need to go.”

Lorcan glared at him. “Please explain to me the publishing process that Mr. Havilliard will be subject to.”

Rowan just blinked at him.

Lorcan turned to Aelin. “And do you know anything about the editing process?”

“You just… do grammar checks and stuff.”

Rowan cringed at the crass oversimplification of his job.

Facing both of them now, Lorcan said, “He needs every specific detail of every process. Neither of you can do that on your own. Both of you are going. That’s final. Now go home. I’m giving you the rest of the day off to pack, and I’ll email you the information of where you need to go tomorrow morning and at what time. Are we clear?”

Aelin nodded mutely. Rowan was pretty sure he felt himself do the same.

He lived in hell.

First he’d been transferred to a different publishing location six months ago as part of a promotion, only to find an enemy on the very first day. He’d smiled at her and was met with uncalled for distain and malice. The months had passed torturously slowly as the woman who’d shown him so much unkindness on the first day was constantly by his side, coordinating clients, attending work parties at his side, acting as a liaison. And throughout it all she was constantly either bickering with him, or ignoring him, or silently scowling at him. He just couldn’t figure her out.

But of course that wasn’t enough. No, now Rowan was being sent on a Yulemas vacation with Aelin, just the two of them and some eccentric smut writer who would be spending most of his time locked up in a room writing, which left Rowan and Aelin. In a resort with no cell service. Alone.

Only Hellas himself could have been so cruel as to put him in this situation.

—

Aelin dumped her bag in the back of the car with a little more force than necessary. She knew she was pouting, and she knew it wasn’t a good look on her, but how the hell else was she supposed to react to being shipped off on a work assignment for the entirety of Yulemas?

Of course they’d been given a rental car to drive together, just the two of them. Just Aelin and Rowan, a shitty GPS, a map for backup, and six months worth of loathing.

What fun.

“Are you ready?” Rowan asked.

Aelin looked up and was met with something slightly more passive than a scowl. She nodded, breaking eye contact, and slumped inside the passenger seat.

A moment passed before Rowan opened his door and got in the driver’s seat. Aelin didn’t look over, focusing out the window on some obscure building as he set up the GPS, then buckled in and put the car in drive.

This couldn’t possibly be more uncomfortable for her. All of this was just one more thing to torture her after another. But honestly, Aelin couldn’t say she didn’t deserve this. This was probably the gods’ way of cursing her for being such a jackass to Rowan that first day, and failing to apologize every day since.

Why couldn’t she just have the holidays to herself?

The first two hours passed with little fanfare. At one point Aelin had turned the radio on, almost driven insane by the silence, and the soft tunes of some laid-back pop music—not her first choice, but she wasn’t going to risk Rowan’s objection with anything more flamboyant—had helped to ease the tension.

At the halfway mark Aelin asked Rowan if he wanted to switch, but he gruffly told her the driving was a nice distraction. From what, he didn’t say.

So Aelin pulled out a book and spent the following hour consumed in the pages. The turns became sharper after that and she had to put her book away for fear of becoming carsick. Aelin then glanced at the GPS and saw their estimated arrival was still nearly an hour away.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Aelin asked, desperate for something to do.

Rowan glanced over at her. “No thank you, I’m okay.”

Frowning, Aelin turned back to the window and watched the trees fly by. She eventually zoned out as the scenery became greener and the atmosphere much more frigid.

The road become steeper and icier, and their pace slowed to a crawl. Aelin’s boredom became unease, and she gripped the sides of her seat a bit tighter.

The remaining time passed uneventfully: no conversation, no accidents, no nothing except for silence and staring. Finding the resort was fairly simple, and parking was as well. The moment Rowan slid the gear into brake, every muscle in Aelin’s body relaxed. “Thank the gods,” she muttered.

Aelin climbed out of the car. The door shut with a satisfying slam. She stretched her legs, unsure of where they were meant to go from here. Before she could say anything to Rowan, a man exited the large log-themed building and began to make his way over. As he approached, Aelin realized that this was Dorian Havilliard, not some employee. He must have been notified of their arrival somehow; Aelin decided not to ask.

“Welcome!” he called, and Aelin couldn’t help but smile. She waved as he continued to step through the thin layer of snow that coated the ground.

Dorian definitely fit the manic writer stereotype; he wore a sweater vest and wire-framed glasses, and he actually had a pencil—did writers even use those anymore?—tucked behind his ear.

“You must be Ms. Galathynius and Mr. Whitethorn. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Pleasantries were exchanged, and Aelin felt she and Rowan did a decent job of pretending their Yulemas vacations hadn’t been stolen out from under their noses. Dorian’s grip on her hand lingered for a bit longer than necessary when they shook hands, but otherwise he seemed like quite the gentleman, and Aelin found herself thankful that at least their client wasn’t a douche. She’d had plenty of less-than-friendly clientele and was glad Yulemas wasn’t entirely ruined with another.

Really, Aelin hadn’t wanted to meet Dorian. She’d come face-to-face with several authors whose writing she enjoyed and their rudeness had ruined the reading experience for her. Hopefully Dorian remained polite and she didn’t lose the will to read his books.

“So when will we have our first meeting to discuss? Immediately?” Aelin asked.

“I figured you’d want the first day off as you’ve been traveling for so long.” Aelin really just wanted to get this over with, but she could hardly contradict the man. “You two will meet me in my room at nine tomorrow morning and we’ll begin. I’ll show you to your rooms in the meantime.”

Rowan thanked him while Aelin reached for her bags. Rowan turned around to do the same, but Dorian stopped them both.

“We can have someone take that in; you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Rowan said. “I only have one bag.”

Aelin had two for the ten-day trip, but neither was particularly large. She certainly wasn’t in need of a fucking bellhop. “We’re good, really.”

Dorian protested a bit more—he didn’t seem like a man used to doing much on his own—but finally allowed them to take their own luggage. He led them inside a massive lobby/commons room that Aelin didn’t get much of a chance to take it in before they were whisked up a grand staircase, not stopping to check in. They followed Dorian down a well-lit hallway that was surely adorned with enough gold to buy a house. Finally, they stopped in front of a doorway near the end, spaced out from the handful of other doors they’d passed.

“Here’s you go.” Dorian inserted a key in the door and pushed it open.

“Oh, which of us…” Aelin trailed off when Dorian looked over.

“Whose room is that?” Rowan finished for her.

“Both of yours,” he replied simply.

No. This could not be happening. Dorian had said rooms, hadn’t he? Plural? Or maybe he meant rooms as in the bedroom and… the sitting room?

Apparently dissatisfied with their expressions, Dorian continued. “I arranged for one room to be shared; they had limited bookings left when Mr. Salvaterre and I arranged this agreement and I figured you wouldn’t mind, as there is plenty of space to claim as your own.”

As if they were in any position to deny him.

“That’s fine,” Aelin assured him. “Thank you again.” She flashed her fakest smile.

Seeming satisfied, Dorian smiled back. “I’ll leave you to it. Remember, our first meeting to discuss logistics will be tomorrow morning, at nine. My room number’s with the informative pamphlet I gave you.”

“We’ll be there,” Rowan replied. The pair of them exchanged farewells, and then watched as Dorian sauntered off.

“So.”

Aelin glanced over at Rowan. “Um.”

He looked conflicted. “Which bed do you want?”

Aelin sighed, brushing past him and stepping inside the room, their room, at last. “I guess that one?” She pointed at the bed on the left of the room at random.

To be fair, there was a decent bit of space between the beds. And the room was enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the beautiful snowy mountains were framed by plush curtains. Carved wooden furniture that Aelin assumed was genuine was placed tastefully around the king-size beds. A wide open doorway led to what appeared to be a sitting room and another open door showing a hint of tile probably connected an oversized bathroom. Aelin figured it’d have some kind of jacuzzi or gods knew what else in there.

It began to truly sink in why Terrasen Publishing wanted Dorian Havilliard so badly. The man knew how to make money.

“So what are you planning on doing first?”

Aelin glanced over. “I’m not sure… I don’t really know what these kind of places have. Like, skiing?”

Rowan shrugged. “I don’t know either. I might just read a book.”

Aelin nodded tersely.

In an effort to distract herself, Aelin pulled the key out of the door and shut it, then set it on a table. She carried her things to the bed she’d pointed at and arranged them neatly on the wooden bedside table, then, with nothing left to do, turned to Rowan.

“Do you want room service for dinner? I’m about to order something.”

Rowan looked up from his book. “Uh, yeah, I’m getting kind of hungry. Is there a menu?”

“Yeah.” Aelin stood and walked over to his chair, handing him the resort’s restaurant’s menu, which allowed room service.

Rowan reached for it and his thumb brushed Aelin’s hand. She jerked away.

Frowning, Rowan started at where their hands had met. “Why do you always…”

“What?” Aelin asked defensively.

Rowan sighed. “Look, this isn’t going to be fun for either of us, but can we just try to be civil? So that this whole trip isn’t as miserable as humanly possible for the both of us?”

“We don’t need to be civil. We can just go our separate ways, okay? You can stay in here and I’ll eat in the other room.”

Rowan rubbed his temples. He looked like he was figuring out how to phrase what he said next. “I don’t understand why you’ve always acted like this, Aelin, why you can’t just behave like a regular person. You’re always trying to stay as far away from me as possible and when you can’t avoid me you treat me like scum under your shoe. I just don’t get it.”

“Is that a question?” Aelin asked, avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, that’s a fucking question,” Rowan snapped. “Why do you hate being around me so much, Aelin? What have I ever done to you?”

Aelin deflated at that. Her shoulders slumped as all the fight drained out of her and she sank into the chair beside Rowan.

“I caught my boyfriend cheating on me the night before you started at Terrasen Publishing.”

Rowan’s lips parted in shock and understanding, but Aelin didn’t stop.

“That first day, I was cruel to you. I didn’t just cold-shoulder you or glare. Lorcan told me to show you around and acclimate you the publishing house and you were right there and I—”

Aelin cut herself off and squeezed her eyes shut. She opened them and looked down, too afraid to meet Rowan’s eyes.

“I was nasty to you, I spent the day belittling you and making you feel uncomfortable, just throwing all the shit on you I could because all I really wanted in that moment was for someone else to be as miserable as me.

“And I was so… I don’t know, embarrassed? That you’d seen me vulnerable, even if you didn’t realize it, so I just started avoiding you. That way I treated you that first day reminded me of the worst parts of myself and I just wanted to forget about it, but we were always forced to work together.”

“Aelin… why didn’t you just explain to me the next day what had happened? Or at least told me you’d had a rough day if you didn’t want to share the whole story? It didn’t have to go on like that.”

Aelin’s finger twisted around a hole in her jeans anxiously. “I’m not good at apologies, Rowan. And the longer it went on, the harder it got to think about explaining.”

Moments passed. Aelin kept her eyes down, barely keeping herself together with sharp breaths as she waited for Rowan’s response.

Finally, it came.

“I forgive you.”

Aelin scoffed. “No, you don’t.”

“You don’t know me, Aelin, and you have no right to tell me what I do and don’t mean. I forgive you,” Rowan repeated. “I’m not saying you treating me the way you did was excusable, or that all those months of bitterness can be forgotten. But you’re apologizing now, and that counts for something.

“Look, you heard what Lorcan said. We’re at a high-end resort at no expense to us. We aren’t working the whole time. I know it’s not an ideal situation, but it could be a hell of a lot worse. Let’s try and, you know, start over?”

Aelin finally got the nerve to look over and was met with the intense stare of Rowan’s pine green eyes. Her fingers stilled against her thigh.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she rasped.

Then Rowan smiled, and something deep inside Aelin’s chest began to thaw.

—

“Where should we start?”

Rowan opened his mouth to respond to Dorian, but before he could Aelin reached for her bag and retrieved a small binder.

Aelin pulled a stack of stapled papers out of her binder. “I brought a sample contract to go over with you; it’s all very adaptable to your needs but in preliminary form it still lays out the rudiments.”

Rowan blinked in surprise. He hadn’t thought to do anything other than show up, and here Aelin was with her organization and a whole fucking binder despite the one night to prepare. Though, Rowan really shouldn’t be as disbelieving as he was; he may have his strengths in overseeing the editing process but Aelin’s strong suits were people and deals.

Dorian nodded at her, and Rowan leaned back, ready to watch Aelin do what she did best and answer any questions about the editing if needed.

The next hour passed with less misery than Rowan had anticipated. Watching Aelin negotiate with an expensive client-to-be like some kind of lawyer was… impressive. To say the least.

Dorian was rushing them by the end of the meeting, seeming keen to return to his new novel, but they’d gotten a decent bit of talking done. Feeling satisfied with their work—or rather, Aelin’s—Rowan followed Aelin from Dorian’s lavish hotel room, even more grand than their own, and out into the hall.

“Do you want to do something together today?” After hearing why Aelin had always acted the way she had, it had been easier to look past her actions and closer at her. They’d spent the evening eating room service dinner in bed and talking—not about anything too personal, but about their work and their hobbies, interests, all the like. Rowan was pretty sure he’d learned more about the prideful woman last night than he had over the course of six months of working together.

Aelin looked over at him, a surprised smile pulling at her lips. “Like what?”

Rowan shrugged. “Like ask the front desk what kind of rich-people activities they offer.”

Aelin laughed, bright and melodious. “I’d like that.”

Upon walking to the front desk, the pair was informed they could go skiing or snowboarding, go snowmobiling, swim in the indoor pool or jacuzzi, ice skate, relax in the spa and/or get a massage, visit the bar, exercise in the full-size gym, or do a number of other activities that Rowan hadn’t even heard of before.

The front desk attendant, Yrene, sent them a friendly wave as they walked away.

Rowan, mouth hanging open, glanced over at Aelin, who snorted at his expression.

“Is it all really paid for?” Rowan hissed. “Fully?”

Grinning maniacally, Aelin nodded. “I read in the pamphlet Dorian gave us that to go skiing or snowboarding you need to have brought your own equipment, but everything else is entirely paid. We can do anything.”

“Maybe I’m not so mad at Lorcan after all,” Rowan murmured.

“So what do you want to do?” Aelin asked, looking more excited than he’d ever seen her.

“You pick,” Rowan said.

Aelin bit her lip. “Ice skating?”

He smiled. “Have you been before?”

She shook her head. “You?”

“A couple times. It’s been years though.”

Aelin nodded and grinned again, and then they were walking back to their room to get coats.

Ten minutes later left them outside next to an iced over pond bordered on one side by the resort, another side by a rock overhang that sheltered the space from the wind, and the rest by a grove of massive conifers. The frozen pond was almost perfectly circular and surrounded by an iron handrail. It seemed like a convenient, authentic location, but Rowan guessed at least some of the details aside from the rail were artificial.

Rowan had no idea how many guests were staying in the resort, or what they spent their days doing, but apparently none of them were interested in skating. The enclosed outdoor area was void of all life aside from Rowan and Aelin.

They’d been provided with skates and then showed out the door. Aelin had been bouncing with energy, seeming quite youthful, and Rowan had realized this was the most unguarded he’d ever seen her.

Rowan watched as Aelin eagerly stumbled toward the rink, her hands out to keep her balance. She placed one blade on the ice, sliding almost immediately.

Aelin fumbled around for a moment, then gave up trying to skate and clutched to the handrail. “This is not as easy as it looks on TV.”

“You’ve only just started. Give it some time.”

She blew a stray tuft of bangs from her face, no less determined. Rowan watched in amusement as Aelin started clopping around the perimeter, most of her body weight on the handrail.

Rowan stepped onto the ice himself. It was a little tricky at first, but after a few minutes his body had remembered how to move and soon enough he was skating upright, albeit with a wobble, decently enough.

The thump of Aelin hitting the ice caught Rowan’s attention and he looked over to find her sprawled out on her back, a pout on her lips.

Rowan chuckled. He skated a smooth line across the ice and Aelin glowered at him from below.

“Having fun?” he asked.

Aelin frowned as Rowan extended his arms. “Yes,” she said stubbornly. She reached for him, clasping her hands in his.

“Careful,” Rowan murmured, holding them both steady as he adjusted his weight and pulled her to her feet. Aelin swayed, but Rowan’s grip was firm.

He could feel Aelin’s grip loosening when she regained her balance, trying to let go, but Rowan kept his hold on her. “What—”

“Let me help,” he interrupted. Rowan tugged her forward and she gasped, but didn’t fall.

Rowan skated backward a few more feet, letting Aelin get a feel for her balance and how her feet needed to move. Her body relaxed a bit as she accepted his help, trying to move her feet in time with his.

As Rowan skated back and Aelin stared at the ground in concentration, he watched her. Her hat was askew and her bangs were falling into her face again. A determined little frown resided on her lips.

After a few laps around the rink, Aelin’s grip on Rowan became less lethal and her feet began to move more steadily. Something had clicked for her, it seemed.

Aelin looked up from the ice and their eyes met.

“I really am sorry for how I’ve treated you,” Aelin whispered.

“I know,” Rowan said simply, and Aelin’s returning smile was answer enough.

“Ready to let go?” he asked.

Aelin nodded, and Rowan watched with a warm heart as she released him and tried moving on her own, one hand hovering over his just in case.

—

Aelin woke shivering.

Her eyes snapped open and she recounted her surroundings, processing the stack of blankets on top of her and the heavy, thrumming feeling of cold.

Aelin slipped out from under her mound of covers, wincing as she was surrounded by freezing air. She stumbled over to the radiator.

There was some kind of error symbol in the corner. Frowning, Aelin tapped at the buttons, unsure of how to use such a high-tech system. Only a thin hint of residual heat emitted from the thing.

“Dammit,” she murmured.

How was she supposed to stay warm in the mountains at night with no heat? The past few days of ice skating—Aelin had insisted on going every day, getting better with each try—had chilled her but not severely. It was the nights that Aelin couldn’t handle, and this one was even worse than the last. She’d already pillaged every spare blanket Rowan hadn’t claimed and still she’d woken feeling a chill in her very bones.

Trying the stay quiet, Aelin reached for the closet doors and started sifting through the various linens. Finding nothing, Aelin rifled through the drawer below, only coming across towels.

Aelin was just reaching for a whole stack of towels, too desperate to care about propriety—and honestly, these towels were nicer than any of Aelin’s bedding at home—when a voice rasped, “What are you doing?”

Aelin winced, not wanting to have woken him. “I can’t find any more blankets,” she whispered.

“That’s because you already have seven on your bed.”

Aelin shot a glare in the general direction of Rowan’s bed. “I’m cold.”

She waited for a witty retort, but all she got was the rustling of his covers and a faint silhouette as Rowan sat up. “Come here.”

“What?” Aelin asked cautiously.

“Come here,” Rowan repeated.

Rising clumsily and kicking the drawer shut, Aelin walked toward Rowan’s bed. She hesitated when she reached him.

Rowan moved over, making space beside him. In the dark Aelin couldn’t make out his expression, but she could see him gesture beside him, faint but unwavering.

Still tentative, Aelin slowly eased onto the bed, breathing rapid. She didn’t dare say a word as she lowered herself onto the bed, jerking backward when her leg brushed Rowan’s.

Maybe he was still half-asleep, or maybe he really didn’t see this as anything odd, or maybe a wave of confidence had washed over him, but Rowan only wrapped an arm around Aelin’s waist and tugged her flush against him, every curve and edge of hers pressed against hard muscle.

Aelin was pretty sure she gasped at the contact.

He pulled his covers over her, cocooning her in warmth. “Still cold?” Rowan asked, and Aelin bit her lip as his breath tickled her ear.

“No,” she whispered.

“That’s good.”

“Mm.” Aelin lay perfectly still as Rowan’s arm went farther around her waist, his hand sliding underneath her from the other side. Getting comfortable.

“Your heart’s beating very fast.” Rowan’s voice was still gravelly from sleep. Aelin told herself the shiver that followed was from the cold.

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s definitely is.”

Aelin could hear the smugness in his voice. “Shut up,” she hissed.

He let out a soft, rumbling laugh, and the vibrations traveled down Aelin’s spine. He didn’t say anything more, though, and Aelin pressed her head against Rowan’s chest, seeking his warmth and trying to relax.

It took a while for Aelin’s heartbeat to slow and her heavy breathing to subside, but when sleep finally washed over her, it was more deep and peaceful than it ever had been.

—

Morning hit Rowan in the form of a head of blonde hair.

Blinking away the sleep, he looked over at Aelin, curled into his side. Her cheek was pressed up against his bare chest. His own arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her securely.

The drowsiness had obliterated his restraint.

Trying to process the fact that Aelin was really here, in his arms, rather than in some twisted wet dream, Rowan gently let go of her. He scooted away, wincing when Aelin whined sleepily and reached for him.

Climbing out of bed, Rowan rubbed his temples. What was he doing with Aelin? What did all this mean?

“Rowan?”

He pressed his eyes shut and let out a heavy breath, then turned. “Morning.”

“Mornin’,” Aelin slurred.

“We have another meeting with Dorian today. We should get ready.”

Aelin groaned in protest, pulling the covers over her head. Deciding to give her a few more minutes, Rowan checked the time and then grabbed a towel from the linen closet, headed for a shower.

It wasn’t as cleansing as he’d wished it to be. Rowan had thought the cold water would wash away all the inappropriate thoughts, the twisted emotions, the smell of Aelin’s perfume. But ten minutes later he was wrapping a towel around his waist and the confusion lingered.

Rowan left the bathroom to grab some clothes, noticing Aelin’s sleepy gaze snap straight to his bare chest, then his arms. Pretending he didn’t notice, he reached for clothing out of his unpacked bag, then retreated back to the bathroom.

Aelin had finally gotten up when he emerged, and was reaching for an outfit from the neat little stacks she’d set up next to her own bed. They exchanged a heated stare and Rowan wasn’t entirely sure of what he read in Aelin’s expression.

She waltzed past him to change in the bathroom, and he just grabbed some notes on the past few days with Dorian to distract himself.

They’d had three meetings so far, spaced out every other day. The first had been a day of covering the basics of the contract, and the next two had been full of negotiations, shaping Dorian’s potential contract into something he could agree to. Aelin and Rowan had been discussing yesterday and come to the conclusion things were wrapping up in Dorian’s mind; the contract-to-be was close to being fully edited to suit his needs. He was going to give them an answer on switching publishers soon, one way or another.

After each meeting, and on all the off days as well, Aelin had dragged Rowan outside to practice skating, and each time he got a little more emotionally confused. Sure, she’d apologized, and his forgiveness was genuine, but that didn’t mean he could just brush right over everything. A week was hardly enough time to go from hating someone to… not hating that person. Rowan shouldn’t be—

Rowan stopped that thought. So much for distracting himself.

He let out a frustrated growl, clenching his fists.

“You okay?” a voice asked, and Rowan cursed himself to hell for not noticing her leave the bathroom.

He turned to find Aelin leaning against the doorframe, dressed in a cream sweater and jeans.

“I’m fine. I was just thinking about Dorian. Lorcan will be pissed if all this was for nothing.”

Aelin’s face said she didn’t believe a word of it, but she didn’t pursue it. Instead she asked, “Do you think he’s finished the book?”

Rowan shrugged. “He said he was getting close a couple of days ago. He could be. He might even give us the draft today if he’s finished it.”

“If he’s going to sign with us,” Aelin added, wandering over to a dresser.

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to start editing right away if he gives you the draft?”

Rowan gave another shrug. “Probably. Or maybe I’ll be able to stretch out the last few days of this vacation and pass it off when we get home.”

“Why?” Aelin reached for a pair of earrings, gaze on a mirror as they made small talk.

“I don’t often edit romance books. That’s Fenrys’ job.”

Aelin sent a smirk in his direction. “Ah, yes. You’re the historical fiction editor. How could I forget?”

“What’s funny about that?” Rowan asked defensively.

“Nothing at all,” Aelin replied, but she couldn’t keep her laugh in.

Rowan sighed. “Historical fiction is good. It offers a realistic perspective on time frames and events that deserve to be delved into. You shouldn’t be laughing.”

Grinning fiendishly, Aelin finished with the mirror and crossed her arms. “If you say so.”

Rowan just shook his head, shooting her an exasperated glare and nodding toward the door. “You ready?”

The walk to Dorian’s room wasn’t tense or silent, but it wasn’t as open as previous conversations between them had been. Aelin had likely picked up on Rowan’s weird mood, he thought with an internal cringe, and they were both nervous about the book deal as well.

Dorian greeted them and showed them into his sitting room as he’d done every other time. He had set out tea again, a habit of his, and Aelin accepted a cup graciously. Less inclined toward the substance but never wanting to offend a potential client, Rowan sipped his as well.

“I’m sure you’ve both realized that my mind is made up by now.” Dorian clasped his hands together and let the suspense linger.

Geez. This man knew how to be unnecessarily dramatic. Then again, maybe the millions his books had made had earned him the right to be a little sensational.

“Yes, we figured,” Aelin replied smoothly. “Is it good news?” Rowan could tell she was just as anxious as him, but Aelin was a hell of a lot better at hiding it.

Dorian smiled. “For you, quite. I made some last edits to the contract. You can look them over here, and if you find everything satisfactory, I’ll sign.”

Relief washed over Rowan in waves. He may have been lying to Aelin earlier when he told her that was what was on his mind, but he truly had been concerned. If Dorian had declined their offer and renewed his contract with Hamel Inc., Lorcan would be furious.

“Then I’ll give you the first draft of my new novel,” Dorian continued. “I finished looking over it yesterday so it’s very rough around the edges, but all the same, you can start editing right away if you so choose.”

Rowan nodded, and Aelin asked for the contract. They looked over it together, finding only minor changes that were acceptable to them. Dorian signed with an expensive fountain pen, and Rowan and Aelin released their bated breaths.

The whole meeting was a whirlwind of suppressed celebration and shared grins between the pair. Dorian sent them off with the draft, and they left, almost skipping down the hallway. As soon as Dorian’s room was out of earshot, Aelin let out a squeal and Rowan whooped.

“Thank the gods,” Aelin exclaimed, raising a hand for a high five.

Chuckling, Rowan met her hand. The contact felt like an electric shock, but Rowan ignored his confliction. They’d gotten one of the best-selling authors in the country to sign with their company. Today was not a day to be moping.

“Let’s go to our room,” Aelin said. “I want to read it.”

“Isn’t that my job?”

Aelin shrugged. “I can help.”

Rowan squinted. “Why?”

“Well…” Aelin looked away. “I’ve been waiting for book four in this series since January.”

Rowan let out a surprised laugh. “Oh, don’t tell me.”

“Shut up,” Aelin hissed.

“You read…” Rowan looked down at the draft. “The Toxic Heaven series?” he asked, scoffing at the title. He hadn’t even realized this thing was part of a series until now.

Aelin frowned. “It’s good. You can’t judge me. And don’t tell me you haven’t read any of them.”

“Um, no. I definitely have not.”

“None?” Aelin gasped.

Rowan crossed his arms. “I’m the boring historical fiction guy, remember? I don’t read this garbage.”

“It’s not garbage,” Aelin snapped, tugging the pages from his grip.

“Hey, that was definitely meant for me.”

“You’ll get your turn soon enough. Just give me a day or two.”

Shaking his head with a smile tugging at his lips, Rowan followed Aelin down the hall and back to their room.

—

Aelin got through the entire draft that day. She had allowed a break for ice skating; she was enjoying it immensely and was actually becoming decent. Other than that though, her eyes were glued to the smutty masterpiece all day long. Rough around the edges, sure, but it still had Aelin blushing.

Rowan had sent her amused glances throughout the day, which she’d pointedly ignored.

Flipping the last page, Aelin closed her eyes and grinned to herself. The main characters, who’d broken up in the last book, were back together. There was I’m-mad-at-you-but-I-still-love-you sex, makeup sex, fluffy sex, dirty sex. And Aelin refused to be embarrassed about enjoying it.

“That good, huh?”

Eyes opening and darting to Rowan, Aelin sent him her meanest stare. “You should try it you know. Maybe you’d get some if you paid enough attention.”

“Who says I don’t already get some?” Rowan’s voice was soft.

Oh, this was dangerous.

“I don’t know,” Aelin said, much more casually than she felt. “I don’t know a whole lot of people who are into historical fiction fanatics.”

Rowan crossed his arms, and Aelin tried not to stare at his bulging muscles. Had the room been this hot earlier?

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? I don’t think there’s a rule that says what I like to read means I’m clueless around women.”

Aelin opened her mouth to retort, but noticed something behind him. “Is that champagne?”

“Yeah, I figured we deserve to celebrate after landing that deal. I didn’t want to interrupt your reading, though,” he added with a grin. “Should we have some?”

Aelin ignored the jest and nodded. “We should.”

She sat up on her bed while Rowan popped the cork poured the alcohol into champagne glasses. He brought two over, sitting next to her on the covers. “You know, not only were we harassed into a work trip over Yulemas, which I’m pretty sure is illegal, we also got a famous author to sign with us. I feel like there’s got to be some kind of raise coming our way.”

Aelin laughed. “Gods, I hope so.” She took another sip of champagne, savoring the way it warmed her as it moved down her throat.

“What is all the fuss about Dorian Havilliard, anyway? There are only so many ways to write porn.”

“You clearly have no creativity,” Aelin replied. She picked up the draft and held it up. “He’s quite decent.”

Rowan squinted. “Let me see that thing.”

Aelin shook her head but he reached for the papers in her hands too quickly for her to draw them back. Rowan set it on his lap and flipped to a random page. “‘Celaena whimpered as Sam fucked her. Gods, she wanted to hate him, and maybe she did, but she could never hate his large, pulsating—’”

Aelin threw a pillow at him. “Stop it.”

“This is shit.”

“It’s not,” Aelin hissed. “Put it down and let Fenrys edit it when we get back.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “I never realized what poor taste you have.” He tossed the draft on the bedside table.

“You’re just provoking me.”

Rowan scoffed. “Trust me, I may know nothing about writing smut, but I assure you there are better words to describe a cock than pulsating.”

Aelin sat up beside him. “Do you ever read smut, Rowan? Or do you just criticize people for having more game than you?”

He snorted. “I prefer doing over reading when it comes to certain things.”

Aelin felt her face warm. “Well… that’s just great for you.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow.

Aelin took a sip of champagne to occupy her mouth before she could say anything more humiliating, but Rowan didn’t let it slide.

“Do you ever get laid or is it all fictional?”

“That’s none of your business,” Aelin blustered.

“I entirely agree, but you’ve already asked me. I feel like it’s only fair.”

Aelin scowled. “Of course I do.”

“And when you do is it more or less pleasurable than reading Toxic Heaven?”

“Now you’re just teasing me.”

“Oh, I definitely am.” Rowan’s eyes darkened. “We’ve been dancing around each other all week, Aelin.”

Her toes curled. “I guess we have.”

Rowan plucked the glass out of Aelin’s hand and set it with his on the table. “Tell me you don’t want this.” Their knees bumped.

“I do,” Aelin whispered, shivering when Rowan’s hand found her hair, gently tugging on a strand of blonde. He leaned closer and Aelin felt her breath catch.

Rowan’s other hand fell to her thigh, sliding up slowly, giving her every chance to say no. His lips were now so close to hers, their eyes locked.

Rowan closed the last half inch but just before their lips could meet, Aelin turned her head to the side. “Um.”

Rowan leaned back.

“I’m sorry.” Aelin stood up.

Rowan rose beside her. “You don’t have to apologize, Aelin. It’s okay.”

She glanced at him, then looked away, nodding silently.

“If something’s wrong I can—”

“It’s not you, Rowan. It’s not your fault. I just can’t.”

He nodded, not asking her why. Aelin appreciated him for that more than she ever had before.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No, you can stay.” Aelin felt a tear slide down her cheek.

She could feel Rowan’s hesitation. “Aelin, I’m sorry I tried to kiss you, I shouldn’t have done that. We can pretend it didn’t happen if that makes you feel better.”

Aelin shook her head, blinking away more tears and feeling ridiculous for crying. “I don’t want to forget. I just don’t want it to happen. It can’t.”

“Why not?” Rowan’s voice was gentle, soothing.

“Because,” Aelin threw her hands up in defeat, “If we do anything now it’s going to be some short-lived fantasy that ends the second we’re home. And I don’t want this to be like some fucking dream that I—” Her voice cracked. She finished the sentence in a whisper.

“That I wake up from.”

Silence washed over the room. Aelin could barely hear anything over the pounding of her own heart, anyway.

For once, Aelin didn’t look away from Rowan. She started straight at him, watching, waiting.

He stared back at her for what felt like an eternity, unmoving. And then all of a sudden Rowan wasn’t still anymore; he was moving forward, and his hands were on Aelin’s face, and then his lips were on hers, and the rest of the world faded into grey.

Kissing Rowan felt like this whole whimsical, expensive vacation had felt. Like some kind of magic thing that was unexpected but not unwelcome, frustrating yet so freeing at the same time. Like every moment she’d had with Rowan prior, honestly.

One of Rowan’s hands fisted in her hair and the moan that left Aelin’s lips sent her mind straight from convoluted metaphors to the rush of heat headed straight down.

Before Aelin could drag him back to the bed and jump him like every molecule of her body was begging her to do, Rowan pulled back.

“I don’t want this to end either, okay?” Rowan was panting. “All the months we spend bickering because of one misunderstanding, one bad day, have been dissipating over the past week. I misjudged you, Aelin. And now that I’m no longer blinded by the idea that I dislike you, I’ve seen that you’re not somebody that I want to have a vacation with and then forget about. I want to get to know you better, I want… I want this to continue.”

Aelin looked up at him in shock. She nodded faintly. “Me too.”

He flashed a smile then, wide and genuine, and Aelin couldn’t help but grin back.

“I hope this means we get to go on a date,” Aelin murmured.

“Oh, it most certainly does.” Rowan pecked Aelin on the lips again, and the casualness of it sent butterflies off in her stomach. “I hope someday I can live up to the standards Dorian’s novel has put on me.”

Aelin choked on a laugh. “Gods. You’re horrible.”

Rowan twisted a finger around a lock of blonde hair. “You know, you’re going to have to put up with a lot of teasing if you really want me. And gods, imagine what the people will say about you dating a historical fiction editor. It’s not too late to back out.”

Aelin shoved him playfully. “I wouldn’t back out for the world.”

She’d meant it to match the joking mood, but it came out serious. Rowan stared at her silently, then moved impossibly closer. Their noses bumped.

“I wish that first day had never happened,” Aelin whispered. “We wasted so much time.”

“I regret nothing,” Rowan said. “Because things worked out so that I’m here with you, right now, and it was more than worth the wait.”

Aelin beamed at him. “And you say you don’t read romance novels. Who taught you how to charm a lady so well?”

Rowan laughed. “Not everything can be found in a book, Aelin.”

“You’re wrong,” Aelin murmured.

Rowan hummed. “I think I could teach you a few things Dorian left out.”

“Oh yeah?” Aelin tugged Rowan toward the bed. “Like what?”

Rowan grinned ferally. “Let me show you.”

They were laughing as they hit the bed.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@charlizeed

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@leiawritesstories

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@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

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@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowaelinismyotp

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thegreyj

@the-lonelybarricade

@thenerdandfandoms

@yesdreamblog

#rowaelin #tog #like a dream #my writing #yulemas swap

101 notes · View notes

house-of-galathynius · 2 years ago

Text

Christmas Kisses: Part 2

After a long time, part two is finally here! @tomtenadia I apologise that it’s so late, but I suppose it’s better than never! I hope you enjoy this second part and happy belated Christmas and New Year 🥰

Part One

Warnings: NSFW

Word Count: 5.1k

Rowan tossed and turned all night. Partly due to the fact that he felt so stupid at what he had said to Aelin. The other part was that he was all too aware of her sleeping figure beside him. He hadn’t been able get comfortable for fear she would wake and realise he was still next to her— and then ultimately she would leave.

The fact that it was Christmas Day meant nothing to him when Aelin barely gave him a second look all throughout breakfast. She hadn’t been excited by the snow that was falling outside, nor the mound of presents that had been growing under the tree. No amount of Christmas music or mulled wine seemed to improve her mood and Rowan was kicking himself for saying something so stupid.

When they had seated themselves around the makeshift table, and they had started to devour their lunch, Enda gave Rowan a knowing look. Then grinned.

“So Aelin and Rowan kissed last night.”

Both Rowan and Aelin, who were seated next to each other, whipped their heads to Enda and glared.

“Well it’s about time.” Aelin’s father said coyly. Spooning some more brussel sprouts onto his plate. Aelin’s mother smiled and nodded her agreement and Rowan didn’t know whether to feel outraged that Enda was making it out to be something bigger than it had been, or whether to feel honoured that Aelin’s own parents were thrilled.

“It wasn’t anything special. Just like kissing any other man.” she said bitterly, glaring at Rowan.

There was a beat of silence and then everyone seemed to realise the awkwardness from the two of them and swiftly moved the conversation on— not once mentioning it again. Enda seemed to realise his mistake in mentioning it at all and shot the two of them apologetic glances throughout the meal. Although neither of them deigned to respond.

The rest of the day went much like that. Aelin making snide comments here and there and Rowan trying desperately to make it up to her. Giving her extra helpings of her favourite cake, more wine, letting her take the comfiest spot on their sofa. But apparently she was going to be holding her grudge for a while.

In the evening when everyone was settled down and ready to open presents, Rowan hoped that what he had got Aelin would maybe sway her into favour again and that maybe it would be enough for her to actually look at him in the eyes. Because honestly, he missed their playful teasing and her laugh and the way they just always seemed to be so at ease.

People were unwrapping things at a pace that was too slow for Rowan. He could see his gift for Aelin sitting beside her and all he wanted was for her to open it and see that he did care. But the kids were too excited about their own gifts and the other adults too anxious about the food that needed to be prepared for their second meal. Which meant that neither of them could have the moment that they needed.

So Rowan watched as Aelin carefully moved the gift to the side and promised the group that she would open the rest of hers later.

Aelin had used cooking dinner as an excuse to not open her last present. She knew it was from Rowan and she knew he had been eyeing her the entire time they had been swapping gifts. Despite her annoyance, she still felt satisfied when Rowan opened his gift from her and had exclaimed it was perfect— sending her a smile that if she had been standing, would have knocked her off her feet.

She knew he was trying. He had been nothing but lovely to her all day and she knew deep down that he was trying to make up for his comment. Honestly, she didn’t know why it had bothered her so much. Maybe it was because she had realised that her feelings for him were deeper than she could have imagined; and hearing him say that their kiss had been like kissing any other person, had disappointed her. Being icy with him was a way of protecting herself.

She continued giving him the cold shoulder, even as the Christmas turkey and the trimmings were devoured, even though she was sat beside him and had to try not to think about the proximity of their bodies.

Despite their food comas, the group managed to play charades and drink more wine until most of them were passed out on the various chairs and sofas. The sounds of varied snoring coming from each person.

Rowan had been watching her. She could feel his gaze, even as she stood from her own perch and headed into her bedroom to put away her gifts.

“You never opened mine.” Rowan said, leaning against the doorway.

“I’ll open it later.” She replied.

Rowan stalked into the room and stopped behind her. She was facing away from him, but she didn’t need to see his face to know he was giving her a confused expression. A disappointed expression.

“Ace, I’d really like you to open it.” He pleaded slightly.

She spied the gift sitting on the edge of her bed. It wasn’t that large, in fact it had felt feather light when she’d picked it up and it had taken a lot of strength not to open it. But now he was standing before her and asking her to open it. When she did finally turn to look at him, his expression was a mixture nervousness with a hint of delight. Like he was genuinely excited for her to see what he’d bought.

“I know you’re not my biggest fan at the moment…”

Aelin shook her head. She didn’t want to have this conversation with him right now. She didn’t have the words to explain to him how she was feeling without spilling everything. She needed more time, she needed to think over her words. So she grabbed the small package and ripped it open.

At first she was confused. She furrowed her brows whilst she looked over the words that were written on the top of the folded piece of paper.

Royal Academy of Music

Dear Miss Galathynius,

We are pleased to inform you—

She stopped reading and glanced up.

“What is this?” She whispered.

Rowan smiled carefully and found it safe enough to walk a little further into the room.

“I know that Chaol didn’t want you applying. But you are far too talented to let these sorts of opportunities pass you by.”

She was staring at the words on the paper again.

“It’s not full-time. But you could sign up for as many classes as you’d like and at the end you can perform at Orynth Apollo.”

Orynth Apollo. The most prestigious and sought after music venue to perform at. Every year they would have musicians from all over the world come and perform. It had been Aelin’s dream since she had first laid her hands on a piano to be able to perform there. Chaol had been impressed by her playing, but had told her that it would take up too much time if she chose to apply— essentially telling her she shouldn’t do it.

“I debated for a while whether to do it… but you deserve this, Aelin. I hated the fact that Chaol told you no.” Rowan was coming towards her again. His smile gentle as he took the paper from her hands. “You can be angry at me for doing it behind your back—“

“How did you do the audition?” She wasn’t thinking about their proximity or the anger that she had been feeling. She was reeling from the news in front of her.

“That was a little more tricky. I had to tell them you wouldn’t be able to make it in person and could you instead send in a selection of performances.”

Aelin rose a brow. “I don’t have a selection of performances. I’ve never recorded them.”

Rowan’s expression turned sheepish. He held up a finger as he dug around for his phone. He tapped on it a few times before turning it around. “You’ve never recorded them, but I have.”

This was all too much. Rowan giving her the greatest present she could ever wish for. Then telling her that he had been saving every single one of the performances she had ever done. And on top of that, she couldn’t get the stupid kiss out of her head. Nor could she ignore the feelings that were bubbling up inside her. Her stomach was filling with butterflies and her heart was beating quicker with every glance at him.

Rowan blew out a breath and he looked like he was debating with himself. He wouldn’t meet her gaze at first… but then he stopped. He looked up, his eyes meeting her own and he had the most wonderful, lovely smile on his face. It was so soft, so tender and he didn’t hesitate as he came forward and took her hands in his. His touch was careful but firm and he held her hands tightly, still looking at her.

“Aelin this may not come as a shock to you— or maybe it will. But you are one of the most important people in my life. I care about your happiness more than my own. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you,” he smiled at her, “I love you, Aelin. More than just as a friend. I was an idiot to say what I did last night. I was just scared of my own feelings for you— or that you wouldn’t feel the same and I’d have to live with ruining our friendship. But I can’t lie to you and I can’t see you upset and angry because of my words. So I’m telling you the truth. I am in love with you, and I have been for a while.”

Aelin was erupting. Her whole body was flushed and her stomach was doing flips as Rowan’s words settled over her.

He loved her.

She thought back over all the little things he’d done for her. All the comments he’d made about them. The touches here and there. The way he had made no move to correct people when they would assume they were a couple.

Aelin had never put much thought into it before. But now— it all made sense. And her own feelings for Rowan were put into perspective. The way she had been battling with herself about how she had started to think of him as more than just a good friend. The way that every time she looked at him she wished she could just go over and kiss him. Or touch him. How she wished she could fall asleep in his arms every night and wake in them every morning. Rowan was more than just her best friend… and she had known it for longer than perhaps she wanted to admit.

He was her soulmate and her heart belonged to him.

“You don’t have to say anything. I will understand if you don’t feel the same, or you need some time to think—“ he sighed, “I just wanted you to know. The kiss last night meant more to me than I can tell, and kissing you was nothing like kissing anyone else. Because you are incredible and no one could ever compare.”

Aelin knew she could let him continue on rambling. She could listen to him talk all night if need be. But she was all too aware of the torment in his voice, behind the lovely words was a man struggling. Her silence was killing him ever so slowly and if she didn’t say anything soon he would either leave and then the opportunity to be candid like this would pass them by. Or he would take back his words and it would be too late.

So she summoned all the courage she had— which right now, was not a lot— and gripped Rowan’s hands back. Eventually sliding her fingers through his and holding on tight.

“I wasn’t angry at you because of what you said after we kissed. Or maybe I was a little,” she smiled, “I was annoyed because when you kissed me everything changed.”

Rowan stilled.

“I’ve thought about what it would be like to kiss you. I’ve played out scenarios in my head, wondered what your lips would feel like on mine… I’ve thought about where it could happen and what it may lead to.”

“Aelin—“

“When we kissed last night all my feelings for you were thrown into the forefront. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all and I was terrified that if I said anything you would turn me down or say that it was a mistake. Yes, I was hurt with what you said after it happened. But I realised that it wasn’t the words themself that hurt. It was the idea that you didn’t in fact have feelings for me and now I’d have to deal with getting over you.”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“Maybe not. But I understand why you did. It seems you were scared too.” She laughed lightly. Rowan’s thumb brushed over her skin and she shivered. “Ro, this is scary. Because in the last couple of days I realised that,” she paused, her heart beating faster. “… I realised that I love you as well. And loving you isn’t scary. What’s scary is that we’ve been friends for so long. And if we decide to take this somewhere… it could end badly. And not only would I lose the man I love, I’d also lose my best friend.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.” Rowan murmured.

Aelin smiled gratefully, knowing that he was probably telling the truth. But he couldn’t promise that completely. She said as much.

“Aelin… I have had a while to think about my feelings for you. I know that it’s risky and that if things didn’t work out then we’d be in an awkward position. But I would risk everything for you. I want to risk everything for you— for a chance to be with you and love you. It’s a little crazy and an insane change for us, but I believe that it’s right.”

She was barely breathing as Rowan let go of her hands and instead brought one of his own to her face, gently caressing her cheek.

“We both love each other, right?” He asked quietly.

Aelin managed a nod.

“And there is no one else who I can imagine spending my life with…” He trailed off. Then he was moving away from her and leaving the room. Aelin was too in shock to move a muscle, even when he rushed back in a moment later with something else in his hand. “This is not me proposing. I mean— it sort of is. But you deserve better than me asking you in your bedroom.”

Aelin’s eyes widened. “Rowan…”

He grinned. “I know, I know. I’m crazy. But this is me promising you,” He opened the box and she couldn’t help but gasp a little at the ring nestled in the velvet. “This is me giving you my grandmothers engagement ring, telling you that when we’re ready, I want to marry you. I may have only realised I was in love with you a few months ago, but Aelin we have been inevitable from the very beginning.”

“You’re insane.” She breathed.

“You don’t have to wear it. I just want you to know that it’s there and I’m serious about us. This isn’t me trying to make up for being an asshole last night. This is me telling you that I am absolutely, one hundred percent in love with you.”

Aelin wasn’t sure she could find the words. So she took the little black box from his hands and then placed it on her bedside table. Then with the utmost gentleness she took his face in her hands and stood onto her toes and kissed him.

It was a small and unhurried kiss. Her lips merely resting on his. There was no rushed movements as Rowan leaned into it. His lips were soft and slow as he shifted to bring his body closer to her own. And then Aelin was turning into him as well her grip on him tightening as she felt the hunger and need for him growing.

This. She thought, was something she could get used to. The feel of his body against hers, his lips smooth and careful as they kissed across her cheeks and down her neck. He was everything she had ever dreamed of— the man who she had called her best friend for ten years, was in fact the probable love of her life. And though the thought didn’t scare her in the way it might most other people, she was stunned at the speed of her feelings.

She giggled when Rowan’s breath tickled her neck and she pulled back slightly to look at him. He had his own grin and his eyes were shining with love as he came forward and kissed her once more.

“Is this really happening?” Aelin whispered.

“I really hope so.” He whispered back.

Aelin almost felt the switch, where one moment they were tentative and restrained, their revelations still settling. The next there was this sudden feeling of utter right. Where she could suddenly no longer hold back— Rowan the same. There was a clash of teeth and tongue and hands as they touched and tasted. Aelin was pulling Rowan down onto the bed, his body resting over hers.

Aelin didn’t have time to think about what would happen after. She didn’t want to think about it. All she wanted was Rowan. And that was what she was getting.

“We should—“ Rowan started.

Aelin shushed him and went back to kissing. Her hands finding his t-shirt and yanking at the bottom— begging him to take it off so she could feel the skin beneath. Whilst he started to pull it off, Aelin did the same with her own top, then her bra. Rowan had paused to glance at her breasts that were on full display for him. Aelin held a satisfied smirk as she saw his eyes darken with want.

“You can touch them you know.” She laughed.

Rowan was pulled from his thoughts when she spoke and then he was on her. His mouth surrounding her nipple as he sucked. His other hand went to the other, flicking and pinching as Aelin started to writhe beneath him. She wasn’t sure what to do with her own hands so she gripped his head to keep him there. Although moments later he pulled back.

“Don’t think about it, Ro.” She murmured. His expression was still that of utter want, but behind it was the creeping hint of doubt and she wanted him to know it was okay. That she wanted this as much as he did.

Aelin wanted him to believe she needed this. So she shifted from beneath him, then pushing him down so he was lying beneath her now. She ignored his slight protest and kissed down his chest, reaching the button on his jeans and popping it open quickly before grabbing the waistband and pulling them down. She grinned at the bulge that was prominent in his underwear and was slightly relieved that he was as into this as she was.

It took a moment before she had pulled his jeans off completely and threw them on the floor. But she was quick to return to him and palm him over the thin fabric that was the only thing separating her from his obvious desire.

“Fuck, Aelin.” He growled.

It was all the encouragement she really needed. Her hand slipped beneath the cotton and Aelin almost groaned at the size of him in her palm. His cock was smooth and rock hard as she wrapped herself around it and started to move— slowly at first— then faster as she found a rhythm that suited them both. She relished in the feel of him and the sounds that were coming from his mouth.

All at once she retreated her hand and she stood from the bed so that she was able to shimmy out of the rest of her clothes. She stood there naked in the middle of the room; letting Rowan get a good look at her before she sauntered back towards him and kissed him once on the lips.

“What are you—“

The words were lost as Aelin climbed back on top of him and placed her own centre at his lips. Her hand then gripping him, directing his length to her mouth where she encircled it hungrily. Rowan cursed once and then took her offering, his tongue darting between her wet folds. She was sighing in absolute pleasure as Rowan licked and sucked and she did the same. Her mouth taking him all in, the tip of him hitting the back of her throat before sliding easily back out. She licked the saltiness from his cock and began to rock ever so slightly as Rowan devoured her, too. Aelin was ravenous as she sucked him. Her own pleasure was building and building and she was desperate to chase the orgasm that was on the brink of being released.

But just as soon as she was ready to let it all out, Rowan pulled his mouth away and brought one finger to swipe down her middle. He pushed it into her once, circling it around before removing it and then pulling his own length out of her mouth and moving out from beneath her. Aelin turned too, resting on her knees as she watched Rowan bring his finger to his mouth and suck and she would’ve come undone there and then if it hadn’t been from the shake of Rowan’s head, instructing her to hold it together.

“Lie down.”

Aelin was too enamoured with him, her body needing him too much to argue. So she did as she was told and laid down on the bed.

“Spread your legs.”

Her legs parted. She could feel her wetness, could feel her walls pulsing in anticipation. She knew she should tell him to get protection. But she was too far gone to care right now. She took birth control anyway. And she wanted to feel him bare inside her. She wanted Rowan to spill himself into her. She wanted him to claim her.

Aelin could barely think as Rowan crawled over her and nipped at her earlobe, then kissing her neck again, biting the sensitive skin. His mouth brushed her own and she arched her back and lifted her lips to get another, but he moved away and she released a frustrated moan. Rowan ignored her and brought one hand down to her centre again. His fingers trailed over her skin before he pushed two of them in. She was squirming beneath him, begging for more.

“I can’t wait any longer.” Aelin gasped out as Rowan continued. Although he paused as she spoke and then she could almost see the relief, the excitement in his eyes as he took his fingers from her centre and then gripped himself, his hand moving up and down along his shaft as he manoeuvred himself towards her entrance.

Neither of them needed to ask permission. They were too far gone for that. Both of them were ready and needing the other more and more with every second.

Aelin spread her legs further and Rowan took that as invitation to move between her. The top half of him was leaning over her; his head was looking down between them— watching as he guided himself in.

There was a moment of stillness as his cock slid into her seamlessly. They both seemed to sigh in utter bliss at the feel of them together. He was a perfect fit. Aelin’s hands gripped his strong arms as Rowan began to pull out a fraction, and then back in. The two of them moaning quietly.

Aelin’s eyes fell closed as Rowan picked up his speed and started to find his rhythm. The slap of their skin together aroused her more and she could feel the throbbing increase as Rowan plunged in and out, over and over. His movements were precise and hard and she was trying not to cry out— trying not to wake the people who were just outside of her bedroom.

“I’m going to come.” Rowan ground out.

Aelin didn’t reply as she brought a hand to her clit and started to move her fingers over it. The feel of him inside her and her own pleasuring was sending her over the edge and her eyes were closing again and her back arching as her own orgasm began to intensify.

In what seemed like seconds, she was coming over the edge, Rowan following her shortly after. His movements slowed and she could feel the pulse of his cock as he started to spill himself inside of her. Then he was pulling out, moving off the bed and standing— grabbing a towel from a chair and cleaning himself, before offering it to Aelin.

She shifted on the bed and then carefully stood as well. Her legs were shaky from her orgasm, but she had never felt more satisfied in her entire life. No man had ever compared to Rowan and she was cursing herself for not experiencing him sooner.

Aelin held the towel between her legs— the less glamorous part of sex— and tried to clean herself off too. Neither of them spoke as they found each others clothes and handed them silently to the other, until they were both mostly dressed again.

“I—“

“We—“

They both laughed nervously.

Rowan spoke again, “you first.”

Aelin smiled gratefully and perched on the edge of her bed again. “I was just going to say we should probably… I don’t know. Talk about what this means?”

Rowan nodded. “I know what I want. And it’s you,” he came to sit beside her. “I love you, Aelin. I wasn’t messing around when I gave you the ring or told you how I feel. I am certain that you are the rest of my life. There is no one on this earth that I will ever want or love more.”

She blushed.

“We can take this slow— despite what just happened. We can date like normal people would, or we can go all in. I just want you to know that I am here and I am ready for whatever you want.”

Aelin was sure too. She loved Rowan, she knew that with one hundred percent certainty. There was never going to be another person in the world who would love her or understand her the way that he did, and she didn’t want there to be. He was her soulmate and best friend and the man that she knew she would one day marry.

“Aelin? What are you thinking?”

She looked to him. Then smiled. “I’m thinking that I love you… And that my bedroom door has been slightly ajar this whole time and I’m pretty sure everyone heard us.”

Three Years Later

Christmas was still Aelin’s favourite time of the year. She still loved the festive cheer that people had, she loved decorating and baking and present shopping. Everything about the season just made her happy.

This year there was even more to celebrate.

Not only was it her second Christmas married to her best friend, but she was also celebrating graduating from music school— which had been three years of utter chaos, laughter and absolute joy. In fact, that’s how she would describe the last few years in general.

Since she and Rowan had admitted their feelings to each other, things had moved at breakneck speed and had never slowed down. First it had been telling all their friends and family about their relationship, then not even six months later they had decided to elope. Then Aelin had been immersed in her music degree, whilst Rowan had worked his way up the ladder at his own job. During this time, they had also moved into a house— a real, proper, adult house. And finally they’d celebrated two years of marriage and a love that grew stronger every day.

This Christmas was special in more than just all that though. And her plan was already in action.

“I have a gift for you.” She said to her husband who was lounging on the armchair in the living room.

Rowan looked up at her, his smile growing as he beheld her. “Christmas isn’t for two more days.”

Aelin shrugged and then sat herself on his lap. “I want to give you this now.” She handed over the thin envelope, her heartbeat increasing as he took it from her and carefully opened it up.

“You didn’t get me into a university did you? Because I hate to tell you, but I don’t really have the time.” Rowan laughed and she playfully pushed him, motioning for him to hurry up.

Rowan gently removed the piece of paper that was inside and she watched as he unfolded it and another, smaller piece of paper slipped out and fell to his lap. Rowan was completely silent as he picked it back up and studied it. Aelin’s own expression was blank as she waited for him to realise.

“Aelin…” Rowan’s hand shook slightly as he held the picture. He read over the other piece of paper in his other hand and then glanced back to his wife. “Is this real?”

She nodded.

“I thought—“ he trailed off.

“They said it would be hard but not impossible.”

“We’re having a baby?”

Aelin nodded again. “I’m ten weeks along.”

Rowan could barely contain his happiness as he put the papers down and held her face in his hands. He leant forward and placed the softest, most precious kiss on her lips. Then he bent lower and kissed her stomach too. Whispering his promises of love to their unborn child.

And maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or perhaps it was the Christmas spirit— or a mixture of both. But Aelin had never felt more happy or excited in her entire life. And she would thank every single moment in her life for leading her up to this point.

And she would thank Rowan for loving her, for cherishing her and holding onto his belief in them for as long as she would live.

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#yulemas swap #rowaelin #rowan #aelin #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #tog fanfic

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