#lady whitethorn

[lailoken]

When working with an arboreal spirit (Old Man Willow, the Juniper Mistress, the Elder Mother) or really any spirit for that matter, how do you determine the gender of the spirit? Is it something directly communicated? Do you address them based on instinct about their gender or is it folklore from how they were addressed in the past that prompts it? Is this how the spirit communicates itself to you specifically? Meaning could another practitioner interact with the exact same spirit and perceive it as female, even though you experience it as male, and vice versa? I love reading your posts about tree spirits but they’ve prompted this curiosity.

In my experience, spirits do not experience gender in the way humans do. I answered a question about that here in more depth, but I essentially believe that numinous entities tend to "take on" gender presentation when interacting with humans, in the process of making themselves observable to us. I think this largely has to do with human beliefs and expectations creating a kind of "psychic impression" that affects the manifestation of a spirit. This doesn't mean a spirit will always present in a particular way, but I think that the longer a numinous Wight has been regarded and propitiated under a certain guise, the more defined and consistent that "psychic impression" becomes.

I think that using existing lore is a good rule of thumb where this sort of thing is involved��such as the lore of the Elder Mother or the Juniper Mistress—but aside from that, I mostly rely on dreams and intuitions. I often don't experience any sort of inclination about gender when working with spirits, one way or another, but when I do (such as with Old Man Willow or Lady Whitethorn,) it almost always comes out of my mouth before I've even had time to think about it, but then feels instinctively right and true.

[thehighladywrites]

masterlist.

a court of thornes and roses

rhysand

ᜊ Beneath their smiles - your friends turn out to be using you, comfort and hurt

ᜊ Texting Rhysand - smau

ᜊ Sugar daddy Rhysand - big dick daddy rhysand spends cash on you and falls in love, breaking your agreement

ᜊ “Just one more, I know you can do it” - rhys has a massive breeding kink

ᜊ “This isn’t goodbye, this is simply see you later” - ex husband/baby daddy rhysand

ᜊ “I got you, darling…” - Rhys takes care of you on your period

azriel

ᜊ Texting Azriel - smau

ᜊ Texting Azriel pt. 2 - smau

ᜊ Need you so bad baby, please… - ovulation week hits you hard, you need your mate

ᜊ Azzie, I think your mom is super hot… - you meet azriels mother and develop a little crush on her

ᜊ I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater… - angst, just plain angst with a somewhat bittersweet ending

ᜊ “Tell me you’re mine” , “ i’m yours” - you dream that azriel was cheating on you and now you can’t look at him without being annoyed. It’s not really his fault, but still… azriel reassures you, promising that you’re the only one for him.

ᜊ “You can even call me daddy, give you someone to look up to” - sugar daddy azriel spoils you

ᜊ “If it’s so wrong, why does it feel so good?” - azriel is a stalker and pervy guy

ᜊ The sessions masterlist - nerdy azriel x bimbo reader

ᜊ “You were flirting with me?” - you doubt Azriel even likes you since all he does is stare into your soul. Azriel thinks he is very clear when he stares, why do you not understand that he is flirting?

cassian

ᜊ That’s your mother but she’s my wife first… - your kids loose their tempers, cassian reminds them who you are, nsfw, light angst, hurt & comfort

ᜊ The Airhead Chronicles: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5 - cassian is mates to a ditzy reader, and he loves her more than anything. How do they function together? - FINISHED

ᜊ “make her squirt on my balmain shirt” - cassian finds out you can squirt

eris vanserra

ᜊ Professor Eris x reader: part 1, part 2, part 2,5, part 3 part 4 part 5 - you hook up with this delicious older man for one fun night to forget your scummy ex, what do you do when the same man turns out to be your new professor? What do you do when that same professor had a dark secret? - ONGOING

ᜊ Vanserra brothers NSFW Alphabet - nsfw, crack, a sprinkle of angst

feyre archeron

ᜊ “let’s settle this catfight in the ring, let’s settle this in bed” - enemies to lovers, smut, angst, jealousy

elain archeron

soon

lucien vanserra

ᜊ Vanserra brothers NSFW Alphabet - nsfw, crack, a sprinkle of angst

acotar men x reader

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, sneaking out to a bar while you’re drunk - smau, multi men, tiny bit nsfw

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, using doe eyes on them - nsfw, multi men, headcanons

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, putting bows on their things - headcanons, multi men, cute asf

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, you being asexual - smau, multi men, headcanons

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, sassy man apocalypse - smau, multi men, crack

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, being their sneaky link - multi men, nsfw, headcanons

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, banning them from intimacy - multi men, nsfw, headcanons

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, meeting your parents - multi men, headcanons, crack, fluff

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, your child catches you in the act - multi men, headcanons, crack, nsfw

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, sitting on their lap - multi men, headcanons, nsfw

ᜊ ACOTAR men x reader, them as your baby daddies - multi men, nsfw

multi characters

ᜊ Breaking up with the acotar characters as a prank - smau, multi

ᜊ Texting “ She’s busy “ as a prank with the acotar characters - smau, multi

ᜊ ACOTAR characters x reader, ” I had a really fun time yesterday. Oops wrong person ” - smau, multi

ᜊ ACOTAR characters x reader, creepy man hitting on drunk reader - smau, multi, tiny bit nsfw

ᜊ ACOTAR characters x reader, we need to talk - smau, multi

ᜊ ACOTAR characters x reader, sending them nudes/lingerie pics - smau, multi, nsfw

ᜊ ACOTAR characters x reader, asking them for hand pics - smau, multi, tiny bit nsfw

ᜊ ACOTAR characters x reader, “can i get x’s number?” - smau, multi

ᜊ ACOTAR characters x reader, doing elf on the shelf for your kids - smau, multi

ᜊ ACOTAR characters x reader, random texts - smau, nsfw, multi

ᜊ nsfw visual links for them - multi, smut, nsfw,

ᜊ ACOTAR characters x reader, “where’s my treat?” - multi, nsfw-ish

ᜊ ACOTAR characters using twitter; pt 1 | pt 2 - nsfw, swearing

ᜊ ACOTAR characters x reader, forgetting your anniversary - smau, angst, multi

throne of glass

multi:

ᜊ TOG characters x reader, sending them lingerie pics - smau, multi, suggestiveness

[notyourcamb]

[rainingriversofyou]

Aelin, Rowan, Manon, Dorian, Lysandra, Aedion, Elide & Lorcan

Throne Of Glass / Artist: @madschofield

[starfallserotonin]

The way reading The Assassin’s Blade makes every little thing in Queen of Shadows that much more meaningful … like why am I crying about lavender soap? Bffr

[moonlightazriel]

Say Yes /// Elide Lochan X Lorcan Salvaterre

Summary: The wedding scene everyone was dying to see.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,2K

Notes: SJM does have a thing against wedding scenes as we have been denied them so many times, I'm here to fix it.

Main Masterlist

Elide shivered as a cold wind touched her skin, she looked behind her to see Rowan standing there, winking at her as he exited the room and left her alone with Aelin and the others. She walked in front of the mirror, her limp almost gone as Rowan’s power helped her, she made a mental note to thank him for it. Her trembling hands caressed the white fabric of her wedding dress, making sure that no wrinkles would be there.

“You look absolutely beautiful.” Aelin said, hugging her from the side, she was wearing a soft green dress, her crown replaced by a small headpiece. Elide thanked her, looking at her surroundings. 

Yrene was finishing her hair, the curls on a bun, with some loose strands framing her perfect shiny face, the baby bump was showing in the fluffy lilac dress she chose for the occasion. She happily talked to Lysandra, who wore a deep green dress glued to her body, accentuating her curves, her hair cascading in waves behind her back. 

The three females talked, and Elide felt happy having them there with her, her friends, but her heart missed someone, she had sent the invitation but she wasn’t sure if Manon would actually show up, they talked through letters but Manon had so much to do, as did Elide. They both had their homes to recover. 

Three knocks at the door and Aedion’s head popped up in the room, letting them know that it was time. The three females wished their good luck to Elide and she thanked them, looking one last time in the mirror. 

Little makeup adorned her face,  just some shimmery in her eyes, her hair was falling in waves, clipped behind her head, leaving a clear view of her face. The hair clip was made from golden leaves, a treasure from her own mother’s wedding, that Vernon had kept in her family treasure room. Small diamonds adorned her ears and neck, and as she looked at her gown, she almost didn’t recognize herself. A floor-length white gown, a bodice holding her upper frame with small sleeves, and a thin cape tied to her neck. She looked divine. 

“Eli, we have to go, you don’t want to leave him waiting.” Aedion urged. 

“It’s fine Eli, Aedion is just afraid of Lorcan.” Ren laughed and she giggled, opening the door. 

“I’m ready.” Ren let out a low whistle. 

“You look really beautiful.” She blushed. “Can’t believe you’re getting married.”

“Let’s go before I cry.” Aedion said, grabbing her arm and Ren grabbed the other side, her two best friends walking her down the aisle, she might cry as well. 

They walked, but before they exited the door leading to the forest where the ceremony was being held, someone cleared their throat, and she turned around. In a beautiful red dress, hair parted in the middle and red lips. Manon smiled at her.

“You came.” Elide rushed to her, Rowan’s power still holding her leg straight. Manon hugged her, as the smaller woman buried herself against her. 

“You called.” She replied, taking Elide in, she looked so angelic like this, Manon smiled widely, something very rare for the witch. “You look amazing, he’s a lucky guy.” 

“I’m so glad you’re here, you have no idea.” She blurted and Manon nodded. 

“Let’s get you married then.” Manon escorted Elide Back to the males standing in front of the door. “Abraxos is waiting if you change your mind.” She winked and Elide laughed. 

“I’ll think about that, thank you, Manon.” She turned to the males. “Let’s go then.” They grabbed her by her arms, and the three of them started to walk, as a soft melody started to play. 

The guests were seated on wooden chairs adorned with small flowers, the path was covered in various shades of flowers and tiny candles. She looked up at Lorcan, wearing a black attire, his hair in a low bun and he shifted his weight from one foot to another. It was a funny sight. A flower arch was behind him and a priestess was ready to make everything official for them.

The soft music followed her until Ren and Aedion were ready to pass her to Lorcan, he gladly took her small hand, leading the way back to the arch. 

“You look breathtaking.” He whispered, eyeing her from the side, as they listened to the priestess talk. Lorcan felt his hands sweat, and he felt nervous. Settling down for her was the best decision he ever made. He would do everything for her and it would always be worth it. Even if it meant enduring years of mockery by Aelin and Fenrys as he was about to become Lord Lorcan Lochan. 

“You may now say your vows.” The soft voice of the priestess sounded and he turned to his beautiful Elide. A small tear escaped her eyes and he was quick to wipe it away. 

“I was trapped my whole life, everything I’ve ever loved was taken away from me..” Elide started, her voice a little shaken by the memories of her past. “I grew up thinking I would be forever caged, but you showed me freedom, you gave me choice, you make me feel seen and heard. It’s like I matter again. And I love you so much.” It wasn’t much, but they were the words from her heart, the truest feelings she had inside her. 

“I thought that I knew what love was like, how it felt, but no one ever loved me truly like you do. I give up everything I am and everything I will be to be by your side. You shall never know what a day alone feels like anymore. I will stand by you day and night and show my love for you every day because you deserve Elide Lochan. You deserve to be loved and it’s my honor to be the one to do it. I love you so much.” 

Elide couldn’t contain the waterfall that fell from her eyes as Lorcan spoke. The priestess finished the ceremony, telling him he might kiss the bride. His large hands cupped the sides of Elide’s face, bringing her close, his lips brushed hers and he kissed her gently, like she deserved to be treated. Her hands grabbed the collar of his attire, not wanting to be apart from him. 

The crowd roared and clapped as they kissed. They were still clapping as Lorcan grabbed Elide’s hand and guided her to where the reception was going to be. The guests followed them to another part of the forest where tables were displayed, lights hung from the trees and food was being served. The music was nice and calm. 

“Lady and Lord Lochan.” Fenrys yelled, and the crowd clapped once more as they reached the dance floor. 

Lorcan rested his hand on the small of her back while she rested both hands on his chest. They moved, eyes locked on each other like they were the only ones there. The music moved them around and their family watched as they danced, their first dance as husband and wife. 

The first step towards the rest of their lives.

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[leiawritesstories]

The Rustler, 2

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics July prompt "Outlaw" & this part also uses "Finagle"

The Rustler masterlist

word count: 855

warnings: *giggles* none ;)

enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hat tugged low to protect against the blazing Western sun, Rowan Whitethorn urged the quarter horse beneath him into a gallop. "C'mon, boy," he coaxed. "Wanna fly?" The horse whickered as if in agreement and sprang forwards, hooves clattering across the grassy, dusty ground.

Even at a gallop, it took over an hour of hard riding until the crossbeam over the entrance to his nearest neighbor's ranch came into view. Rowan tugged on the reins, pulling the horse back into a more sedate trot, and called out a greeting as he rode up the packed dirt path that led into the neighboring ranch.

"Anyone here?" His call echoed around the wide blue sky.

A moment later, another set of hooves clattered into his hearing, and a beautiful Paint mare trotted up with a woman on its back. "Howdy, neighbor!" Aelin Galathynius called, guiding her horse to a stop a few feet away from Rowan. "Long time no see, yeah?"

"Been a few months, I s'pose," Rowan admitted. He tugged his canteen out of his saddlebag and took a long, deep drink of water. "I reckon I came by to ask if'n ya had any trouble last night."

A stormy frown crossed Aelin's face. "How 'bout ya c'mon with me, Whitethorn, and I'll show ya?" She nudged her mare with her boot heels and led Rowan towards the west pasture of her ranch. Aelin was a cattle rancher, and her stock was well known throughout the region for being high quality.

As they came into the west pasture, Aelin slowed to a stop, dismounted, and tied her mare's reins to the fence post. On foot, she took Rowan to the fence line, and he whistled lowly at the sight. "Well...damn."

"You could say that," Aelin agreed. A good ten yards of her fence lay in ruins on the ground, and from the heavily trampled grass, it was clear that a good-sized portion of her cattle had been stolen. "Woke up this mornin' and came out to the pastures to find that some goddamned cattle rustlers must've gotten here first."

"Fuck, I'm sorry, Aelin," Rowan murmured. "Looks like I wasn't the only one targeted last night, then."

Aelin turned to him with a puzzled expression. "Whitethorn, ya don't own cattle."

"Nah, but I've got horses." He scowled. "Seems like your cattle rustler might've been in cahoots with the horse thieves who stole my Asterions."

"No," Aelin gasped. She rested one gloved hand on his forearm. "God, I'm so sorry, Rowan. Have ya told the sheriff?"

He scoffed. "What good would that do? Sheriff ain't been out to these parts in months."

"Guess so." Aelin removed her hand, but Rowan caught it, his hand warm and solid and strong around hers.

"Tell ya what, Ae," he began. "How 'bout a li'l partnership?"

She raised her brows skeptically. "You proposin' to me again, Rowan Whitethorn?"

An adorably vivid blush stained his tanned cheeks red. "Now why'd you go and bring that up again, Galathynius?" He flashed her a teasing grin. "Nah, you told me exactly what ya thought the first time I did that. So, here's my deal: I'll help you fix up your fence and look for the cattle rustlers if'n you'll help me catch the horse thieves."

"You askin' me to turn vigilante, Whitethorn?" Aelin joked. "Hell, after what happened last night, I'd be best off doin' just that." She stuck out her hand. "Throw that ranch hand of yours in to help with the fence and we've got us a deal."

"Alright." Rowan shook her hand firmly. "I'd best be gettin' back to my place now."

"Send word when ya want to talk 'bout capturin' some rustlers," Aelin said, waving as Rowan mounted his horse and rode away. He tipped his hat to her as he galloped down the road that led off of her property.

When he was no longer visible, she swung herself up onto her horse and nudged the mare's flanks with her spurs. "Let's get goin', my girl!" She headed off towards the eastern corner of her property, slowing to a walk when she reached the stand of scrubby trees that clustered around that corner of her ranch. Dismounting, she tied her mare's reins to a tree, set her up with a bucket of water, and headed off into the patch of shade that the hardy sycamores offered.

Tucked into a closely spaced cluster of trees was a stable big enough for a dozen horses, its wooden planks painted to blend in with the shadows of the trees overhead. Aelin rapped three times on the door and pushed it open, blinking in the hazy gloom of the windowless building. A horse whickered softly at her approach, and she strolled up to its stall and stroked its nose.

"Shh now, Kasida girl," she murmured, calming the beautiful silver Asterion mare who was still a little antsy after having been taken from her familiar, comfortable stall on Rowan Whitethorn's ranch.

"You'll be out in the wind tonight, my girl, I promise," Aelin whispered. "If we're lucky, you might even find yourself a new home."

~~~

tags:

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@aelinschild

@renxzs

[shallyne]

Feyre: What are you two arguing about this time?

Bryce: She's always using common phrases incorrectly!

Aelin: Cry me a table, Bryce.

[scarlet742]

Sarah j mass describing her books through Dorian in empire of storms be like: "Believe it or not, this ship has an unnatural number of attractive men and women on board. You'll fit right in. And fit in with the cranky immortals, I suppose."

[lailoken]

The Matron Whitethorn of our land is blooming as beautifully as ever. I like this accidentally glamorous picture I took of her blossoms when I had an oil smudge on the lens.

[notyourcamb]

If they were a family, Aelin would be the eldest sister who catches everything. And I think that Dorian would be the younger brother who would try to emulate his older sister in all of this. Rowan would be Aelin's boyfriend who would agree with everything she says. Something like this:

Aelin: If you keep fighting over this teddy, I will burn it.

Rowan: Yes, I see it the same way.

Aelin: Fenrys and Lorcan, stop arguing!

Rowan: Yes, that's right, you heard her - stop that!

*Aelin looks annoyed at Rowan*

Rowan: Aelin, they bore me! Can we do something else?

Aelin and Lysandra would be sisters who would gossip all the time. Aedion would be the little brother who does everything for Aelin that she asks because he admires her so much. Manon would be Aelin's best friend, who Dorian obviously has a crush on. Chaol would be Dorian's best friend, visiting quite often and trying to keep Dorian out of any arguments. Elide would also be one of Aelin's best friends (they have been friends since childhood) who would help her raise her siblings (although she is usually there for Lorcan because she has a crush on him). Yrene would be Aelin's cousin who has something going on with Chaol. Lorcan and Fenrys would both be Aelin's little brothers, who are constantly fighting, with Rowan sometimes arguing too.

What do you think?

[starfallserotonin]

I just finished the tandem read and I am UNWELL

[acourtofquestions]

“Can I hold you?”

[bookfrogstime]

[leiawritesstories]

The Rustler

for @throneofglassmicrofics July prompt "Outlaw" 🤭🤭

Word count: 873

Warnings: thievery, breaking and entering

enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A faint breeze sent gentle ripples through the prairie grass, but no moonlight broke through the thick clouds blanketing the sky. The velvet darkness was a blessing, an ample shield for the figure weaving a zigzagging path across the wide-open field. When the person reached the rough, weathered pine planks of the stable, a soft breath of relief joined the midnight breeze, and the figure melted into the shadows, barely visible against the backdrop of the night.

The stable door, already left propped open for a cross-breeze, began to creak as it was nudged open, but the thief had countless hours of experience with creaking doors. Oil was poured onto the hinges, and within seconds, the door slid silently open, revealing the full width of the stables. A few of the horses chuffed but didn't startle, since it took far more than the door opening to scare a well-trained ranch horse.

Eyes scanning rapidly down the parallel rows of stalls, the thief grinned, a brief flash of teeth in the soft light of a single kerosene lantern suspended from the rafters in the middle of the stable. Just as expected--two pairs of thoroughbred Asterion stallions and two mares, all six of the fine beasts sleeping peacefully in their stalls in the middle of the open building.

"Shh now, boy," the thief murmured as the first stallion's door slid open and the horse stirred. "We're just goin' for a bit of a walk, now."

It took two hours for the thief to lead each Asterion out of the stables and guide an ordinary palomino into each stall, four stallions and two mares. Taking the guide lines of the Asterion horses, the thief gingerly tugged the stable door back into its original position and clicked her tongue as she led the surprisingly docile horses back across the open expanse of grass. Within a few moments, she and the horses reached a copse of sycamore and maple trees, which was more than ample cover for the thief and the horses alike.

The thief made an owl's low, throaty call in the back of her throat, and after half a minute, four additional figures materialized from the tree cover.

"Took ya long enough, Cel," one of them murmured.

With a snort, the thief nudged her companion in the side. "You're the one who insisted that I be careful, Ansel."

"True." Ansel took one of the stallions' guide lines and laid her hand flat on the horse's nose, softly coaxing the powerful animal to let her mount up onto his back. "Y'all comin'?"

"Hand 'em over, Celaena," another of the thieves said, coming forward to grab another set of guide lines. Celaena passed out the guide lines to the others, Elide and Nehemia, handed Nehemia an additional set, and kept both mares' lines in her hands.

"Ready?"

Nods and mutters of assent came from the pack of horse thieves in the cluster of trees.

"Good." Celaena clicked her tongue and nudged her mare with her boot heels, and together, the four of them and their six newly acquired Asterion horses headed off into the night, swiftly becoming no more than another shadow melting into the thick darkness.

~

The stable door's unexpected silence was the first thing that tripped Rowan's inner alarm. He was so used to the damn thing screeching loud enough to wake the next three counties that its sudden lack of noise had him on high alert. He touched the hinge--oil. Fresh oil.

Shit.

Inside the stable, he did a quick head count of the horses stabled there, simultaneously relieved and confused when there were none missing. His brows furrowed together beneath the wide, floppy brim of his ten-gallon hat as he crossed to Lumos's stall. The Asterion stallion was the first one his parents had raised, and Rowan had been riding Lumos since he was a young boy.

"Mornin', boy," he muttered as he opened the stall door. He reached up to stroke Lumos's nose--

And stopped short when his hand met coarse, ungroomed hair and a wide, flat snout.

Rowan dragged his stunned gaze up to the palomino stallion that had apparently materialized out of nowhere into Lumos's stall, refusing to believe his eyes until the golden-tan horse huffed an impatient sound and pushed its snout into Rowan's outstretched hand. As he stood there, frozen with shock, he looked into the other Asterions' stalls, half hoping to find the rest of them present but somehow not surprised when he found palominos in all five other stalls.

Shit!

A muscle ticked in the corner of his grimly set jaw as Rowan yanked his hat brim down over his eyes and strode out of the stable with his eyes fixed on the ground. Sure enough, several sets of tracks were stamped into the dirt, among them one single set of large boot prints. From the depth, frequency, and size of the prints, Rowan deduced that there had been one or two horse thieves, most likely men about his own age and size, and they'd been goddamn efficient.

"Whitethorn!" Lorcan Salvaterre, his ranch hand, came jogging around the side of the stable. "We've got a problem."

"Yep." Rowan glared across his ranch, fury blazing through his blood. "Rustlers."

~~~

tags:

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@aelinschild

@renxzs