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danikamariewrites · 22 days ago

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Happy Spooky Season! I was wondering if I could request a platonic Rowan looking out for Aelin's teen sister? I feel like he'd be a strict, but protective big brother by insisting on dropping her off at places, like the theatre, picking her up again, accompanying her into Orynth, guarding her during balls (if he's busy then assigning his former cadre to do it for him), etc. And she gets annoyed by it, until his behaviour comes in clutch one day when he spots her in some kind of sticky situation and helps her out.

Big Brother

Rowaelin x little sister!reader

Warnings: short but sweet

When Rowan first came into your and Aelin’s life you were very annoyed by him

He was always in your business and annoying you

But you annoyed him so things were even

You didn’t trust Rowan at first. Hell you didn’t trust anyone around your older sister, especially someone you could see her falling for

Aelin told you about Chaol and you hated him. Who was he to say that you and your sister were monsters?

After Maeve and Erawan you worked out your differences with Chaol and Dorain

Speaking of Dorian, you had a massive crush on him but Rowan shut that down real quick

He also shut down your crush on Petrah Blueblood, “one person in this group being with a witch is enough.” Rowan had scolded. You just stuck your tongue out at him and stomped off to your room

Aelin and Rowan were like your surrogate parents

Your big sister had looked after you all your life

Aelin was your protector and made sure you never had to train to be what she was, but enough to fight and cause the most harm to someone who was trying to hurt you

You were a feral child around Arobynn because you always got bad vibes from him. You also hated the way he looked at your sister

Aelin did baby you, she still does and so does Rowan, but she never hid the truth from you

Once Terrasen was rebuilt, as princess, you started to get involved with the community. Your main focus being schools and the public library

When not attending his kingly duties Rowan was escorting you from event to event, making sure you stayed safe

“Ro, there has never been an attempt. I don’t need a babysitter, I can handle myself.” Rowan raised a silver brow at you. “There hasn’t been one because I’m good at my job, little sister.” The darkness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine and made you think about your security detail and how protected you and your kingdom are

During special events if Rowan can’t watch you like a hawk one of the Cadre is assigned to you

Fenrys is for low risk events; putting the two of you together is beyond chaotic. You two are the ultimate sibling duo and you always have fun with Fenrys. He absolutely sees you a little sister and loves having you as a companion especially after Connall

Lorcan is for high risk outings; Lorcan is scary dog privilege. He stares down anyone who even breathes in your direction. Lorcan stands faithfully by your side, arms crossed and weapons on display, for hours on end. As much as you would like to mess with him, you actually behave when Lorcan is around. You know if he’s escorting you it’s serious

Gavriel is just back up; He’s your uncle! Of course he’s more than happy to drop everything to be with his niece. Plus he spoils you to make up for years lost out on family time

As much as you find Rowan’s presence annoying at times there finally came a day where you were thankful for his protection

Heading out to a speaking engagement at the primary school you were trying to find any Cadre members to escort you instead of two security guards

Rowan has your schedule, so he should’ve been free. But alas, the buzzard was stuck in meetings with your sister

Uncle Gav was out doing you have no idea what, Lorcan was home with Elide, and Fenrys was away with Vaughn, who you still haven’t actually laid eyes on by the way

You opted to take two of your normal guards to escort you

But without Rowan to walk them through security protocols you were walking around without knowing about any threats

Everything was going smooth. You made it to the school, your talk with the children went very well! They loved to hear stories from you about the Queen and King. They loved to play with you and tell you anything that pops into their little heads

It wasn’t until you were on the way back to the castle that trouble found you

Your carriage was stopped abruptly, the horses neighing and rearing up on their hind legs at the danger in the middle of the road

“Stay here, princess!” Your guards shout, leaving you alone closed in the carriage. You weren’t afraid at first. Not until you heard shouting and fighting. You couldn’t hear much. The men who stopped you were a small group. They wanted revenge on Aelin for killing Dorian’s father. Who know loyalists to the former King of Adarlan were around

Before things could escalate further a flash of white light had you shielding your eyes as you peer out the window, the men thudding against the ground

“Take them to the prison!” You had never been so relieved to hear Rowan’s voice. You stayed locked in the carriage until he came and got you

When Rowan opens the door you fling yourself into him, wrapping your arms around him neck. “I have never been so grateful for you not minding your business.” Your brother laughs, hugging you back. “Let’s get you home, Aelin has been worried.”

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delulu-is-the-soluluh · 4 months ago

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Scars of Flames and Wind | Chap 1

Previous Chap: Prologue

Next Chap

A Dark!Rowaelin x afab!Reader

(Temporary) Summary: Aelin and Y/N shared a deep bond since childhood, growing up together in the royal courts of Terrasen as their innocent crushes hinted at a future romance. However, the invasion of Adarlan shattered their world. Aelin was forced to become Celaena, while Y/N stayed behind, joining the rebellion and becoming their most lethal spy, never ceasing to look for the princess. That is until she accidentally meets with a famous assassin who’s eyes she knows for so long.

Author's note: This chapter is set one month before the events of AB.

Warnings: death, bar fight, daggers, mediocre writing.

Chapter 1 | Echos of the past

y/n pov:

After that fateful night, King Orlon and his court were slaughtered. Princess Aelin was presumed dead a few days later, as survival from her fall into the Florine River seemed implausible. The once vibrant magic of the land vanished entirely as Adarlan declared Terrasen under their dominion and the land was marred by despair; hundreds went missing, and thousands perished. Countless faes lost their minds without their magic, poverty gripped the families who had relied on their abilities for sustenance and hundreds were now trapped in their animal forms, gradually forgetting their true selves.

For eight long years, Aedion had to rise through the ranks of Adarlan’s army, gaining their trust, securing a position of power, orchestrating battles, and inflating body counts. All this to aid the rebels hiding in the Staghorn mountains. I trained as a soldier, after relentless begging for Aedion and Darrow. Soon, I proved myself as a military strategist and a well trusted spy, with “lethal combat skills despite being human” to Darrow’s headache and “a specialty on being annoying” according to Aedion.

All this to find her.

We often bluffed about her being alive to give hope to the rebels. And even if it was a dangerous gamble, it helped to ignite the spark of resistance. But I have never believed otherwise. Some part of me was certain that she was alive, that she’s surviving in her own way. Darrow often called me delusional and I often blamed him for his lack of will on tracking her. And even when Aedion tried to dissuade me, I couldn’t stop searching for clues. Looking for a familiar face in every woman I know. She could have changed her entire appearance, but you can’t hide those eyes. Those turquoise eyes with golden hues..

And working as a spy for them had me traveling around the continent: gathering information about the court, to recruit more allies, leaving favors to use in the future, tracking some groups to see if they’re doing any improvement, and to...seize threats, whenever needed.

Sometimes I wonder if she would feel disgusted of me, of Aedion, after so much blood in our hands. Some of them were innocent who accidentally got involved.. Just thinking that she might be repulsed by this path I took, terrifies me.

I just never thought my path would lead me to the most hideous and filthy part of Rifthold.

The smell of waste and sewage burned my nose, making my eyes water. Not even the night or the salt air could mask that stench. Each step through the narrow alleys and dimly lit streets painted a picture of despair and disgust.

I pulled my hood lower, trying to blend into the shadows as I navigated through the labyrinth of decay. The muffled clamor of a filthy bar nearby reminded me of my goal. The distant shouts, the clinking of bottles, the occasional scurrying of rats through the streets... Fuck this was disgusting, with all the blood money this kingdom has, I expect them to afford a little bit of soap or something.

Finally, I reached the abandoned house, the wood rotting and the stones cracked as I entered. Hunter and Louis were already there, their faces tense in the dim light. Hunter was pacing while Louis leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“So,” I greeted, pulling down my hood. “Any news?”

Hunter stopped pacing and looked at me, relief flickering across his face when he saw me. “Someone is trying to ditch us.”

I winded my eyes slightly in alert waiting for to continue but it was Louis, who pushes off the wall and nodded “One from the Finn’s group got caught by the guards talking to Lady Balanchine and was.. bribed by to be their informant on us”

“Bribed as beaten up, huh?” He nodded as I furrowed my brows “And Archer thinks the little fella knows about our contact on Eyllwe and wants her gone?

Louis went quiet as Hunter sighed “We just want to make sure nothing goes wrong. Having a royalty in the castle will be more efficient than a healer”

He was right. Sorscha has been doing a great job, but if we get a princess in there..

I bit my cheek in annoyance “And deciding, alone, to kill off the problem, will solve everything? Without giving a flying damn about how this will affect the other’s trust in the rebellion?”

Louis walked to me, handing me a dagger “Just make it look like a bar fight.” He shrugged his shoulders “Nicky was always volatile anyway.”

I looked at him in disbelief. What kind of people Archer has been recruiting? How can he be so nonchalant with this?

“It’s a life, Louis. A person. And, yes, she fucked up and I agree on this” I said pointing to the dagger with my head “but pull this shit and again I’ll show how volatile I can be.” I said, grabbing the bladed weapon and adding into my sheath. “Anything else?”

“It’s said Celaena Sardothien is around” Louis said walking past me

“Ah, the Adarlans Assassin” I smirked as I fixed hair into my hood. “She’s quite famous isn’t she? Love her style. Gotta be lucky to stumble on her, though.”

“I’m serious YN. She didn't get this title by nothing. She’s deadly, and if you get hurt, Aedion will kill me” Hunter said in annoyance.

I rolled my eyes, a smirk tugging at my lips. “I’m perfectly capable of surviving,” I said, striding to the table and grabbing a bag of coins. “Sardothien or not.”

Hunter sighed, his eyes serious as they met mine. “Y/N, this isn’t just about your survival. If Nicky says anything about this princess being involved, it could jeopardize everything we’ve worked for. We need solid intel, and we need it without drawing attention.”

I nodded, understanding the weight of his words. “I get it, Hunter. But we’ve handled tough situations before. We’ll get through this too.”

Louis crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “Just remember, if you encounter Sardothien, avoid her. Gather information and get out. She’s lethal, and we don’t need unnecessary risks.”

Adjusting my leather vambraces, I tightened the straps of my boots and pulled my hood lower over my face. My garments were dark and form-fitting, designed for stealth and quick movement. “Yeah, Got it. In and out, no heroics,” I said, my tone light but my resolve firm.

Hunter placed a hand on my shoulder, a rare gesture of camaraderie. “Be safe, Okay? I like breathing but I would be sad to lose a colleague” he smiled softly

I returned the smile and gave him a nod, “I’ll be back before you know it,” I promised, slipping out of the building.

The bar was as dirty as I had anticipated. The stench of stale beer and unwashed bodies permeated the air, and the floor was sticky with fluids that I really don’t want to know what they were. My eyes scanned the room, seeking out for Nicky: Beaten up women, brunette, medium height, and a scarface. Easy target.

I located her by the final table on my right, defeatedly drinking her beer. Poor thing, already knows what to wait for. I bit my lip, thinking how I could rile up this place towards her. Maybe stealing drinks on her behalf or bluffing to the bartender that she caused me a huge default and would do the same here.. it wouldn’t be suspicious if she ended up stabbed.

I was about to put my plan into action when my attention was drawn to a commotion at a table with five drunken men and women,who were dressed entirely in black, masked and hooded, standing out among them. They were accusing her of cheating at their card game,their voices grew louder as I stood from afar.

Perhaps I won’t be the one to rage up the bar, then.

"You think you can just waltz in here and cheat us?" a burly man with a scruffy beard shouted, his face flushed with alcohol and rage. "We don't take kindly to thieves!"

The woman, her masked face revealing nothing but the level of her eyes, remained calm and collected. She leaned back in her chair in feline grace, crossing her arms over her chest. "I didn’t cheat. You’re just upset because I’m winning," she replied coolly, her voice carrying an overly sweet edge.

A second man, tall and lanky with a sneer plastered on his face, slammed his fist on the table. "Don’t lie to us! We saw you slip that card from your sleeve!"

The woman's eyes narrowed, and she stood up slowly, her movements controlled and deliberate. "I don’t need to cheat to beat you," she said, her voice dripping with contempt as she leaned onto the table. "But if you want to make a scene, be my guest."

The tension at the table was palpable, drawing the attention of the entire bar. I leaned back against the counter, smirking in awe, my plan momentarily forgotten, as I watched as the situation escalated. Damn, she was looking for ‘fun’ tonight.

"Enough of this!" the burly man growled, reaching out to grab her arm. But she was faster. With a swift movement, she twisted his arm behind his back and shoved him face-first into the table. The impact sent cards and drinks flying, and the bar erupted into chaos. The tall man lunged at her, but she sidestepped gracefully, delivering a sharp kick to his midsection that sent him crashing into a nearby patron.

Another one, bald with full beard, likely a regular at the bar, staggered towards her with a determined yet unsteady gait. The idiot raised his fists, clearly intent on joining the fray. But the woman barely seemed to notice him. With a flicker of disdain, she sidestepped his wild, clumsy swings, delivering a swift, expertly placed jab to his ribs. He crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath, utterly outmatched. It only added to the mesmerizing display of her skill and power, deepening my fascination with her.

There was a primal elegance, a wild, untamed energy on her that seemed to ignite something deep within me. It was quite hypnotic as if she was dancing on the edge of a knife. Admiration mingled with a hint of something darker, that thrilled me as much as it intrigued me.

The masked woman smirked beneath her hood. "Come on, guys, this is too easy. What does it take for someone to have fun here," she taunted, her confidence unwavering, her blue eyes gleaming with savagery and rage. Blue eyes that seemed..

A bottle was thrown and smashed above my head, quickly bringing me out of trance.

The fight erupted into a full-blown brawl, as I shook my head to ground myself and seized the opportunity to move through the chaos undetected. I crossed the bar avoiding the people who were now fighting among themselves, ducking and dodging bodies and fists, eyes locked on Nicky, who was retreating towards the corner of the bar. Nicky's eyes were fixed on the growing fight, her body tense and ready to slip away unnoticed.

I moved swiftly, coming up behind her and, with a precise motion, plunged my dagger between her fifth rib. “Sorry about this,” I murmured in her ear, my voice laced with sarcasm and a hint of pity, as I twisted the dagger and pushed even more inside her. “But it’s necessary. We can’t afford any risks.” Nicky’s eyes widened in shock, tears streaming down her face as she looked at me, her mouth forming a silent scream.

I felt my eyes soften a little. No matter how many I kill, this never gets easier. I’ll always remember them. Agreeing or not, won’t change the amount of blood I have in my hands.

I took the dagger out of her and turned away without looking back. The soft tremor under my boots was the confirmation that she collapsed. The fight was still raging, with the bar’s patrons, already on edge from too much drink, joined in. bottles flew, chairs were overturned, and the air was filled with the sounds of shouts and breaking glass as walked towards the secondary door

The bartender still yelled for order,voice drowned out by the cacophony, when someone slammed into me from the side. Instinctively, I shifted my weight, performing a swift maneuver to regain my balance and avoid falling. As I pivoted, I found myself face-to-face with the person who had collided with me.

The masked woman. And her eyes were turquoise and gold.

Even with smeared black kohl, it was unmistakable.

The world seemed to stop as her eyes widened, as if she recognized me.

Before I could react, she bolted for the door. I sprang to my feet, weaving through the crowd in pursuit. The night air hit me as I burst outside, the woman already disappearing into the shadows. But I won’t let her go, not again. I ran after her, with my heart pounding with the need for answers.

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gabilina · 8 months ago

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“Chaol loved the idea of Aelin”

I've seen this type of comments on Instagram and Tik Tok which is another prove that readers have problems with reading comprehension.

While being Celaena Sardothien, she and Chaol were in a relationship in which they hid many things from each other. It wasn't only on Chaols part, in fact… they both fücked up in this. During that time, he knew her being the assassin and not the lost princess. He only realised that she is Terrasen's heir bc before departuring to Wendlyn (which is at the ending of the book) she whispered to his ear some date or something.

My question is:

How could Chaol Westfall love all of her if he didn't knew that Celaena Sardothien, the Adarlans assassin was in fact Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the lost princess and heir of Terrasen and didn't even get a chance to do so bc of how these books were written?

Chaol didn't love some idea of Celaena/Aelin, he loved the parts of her she SHOWED him and ALLOWED him to know. It's not his fault for not loving the parts she perpusely hid.

#pro chaol #pro chaol westfall #anti aelin #anti sarah j maas #anti throne of glass #anti sjm #anti tog #anti rowaelin

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catastrophesandcures · 1 year ago

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|| A Heavy Name || Throne of Glass One-Shot ||

(Where: the new Heir of Terrasen struggles with cursive G’s, the eyes of people long gone, and holding up her mother’s name)

Adele, Age 8

Adele Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius wishes for a shorter name. Her hand cramps, fingers occasionally spasming, as she signs her name over and over and over, over, over…

She works to perfect her handwriting, to get accustomed to the long loops and scrolls. She’s sometimes taken to signing with a simple AAWG, but Uncle Darrow, the old badger, says princesses of Terrasen wield their powerful names.

What the sword won’t do, the name can.

Adele glares over her shoulder to the portrait of Uncle Darrow that hangs beside old king Orlon. Adele shakes her practice sheet at Uncle Darrow’s stern, always watching picture as if to say, See? I’m not cutting corners!

Adele peaks at Orlon, then. For some reason, she’s always afraid to fully look the painting in the eye. Beside him, Grandfather Rhoe. Then, Grandmother Evalin. She looks like Mama, but younger. She has the same eyes as Mama, maybe softer, less…wild. Adele looks away from Grandmother Evalin too, not able to think about Mama not having a mama. She stops looking at what she calls the Big Pictures–faces of the dead–and moves her gaze to the smaller frames along the hearth’s shelf, to the pocket sized portrait of her younger brother, Arryn. He’d just cut his own hair, and the golden strands spiked in different directions. Adele giggles. He looks awful, and the squiggle of a mustache she’d drawn over his lip has yet to be noticed.

Uncle Darrow seems to frown down at her, then. She can hear him telling her to get back to work. Adele rolls her green eyes, but practices and practices until her handwriting is perfect. She must be perfect. Not just a princess of Terrasen, but Heir of Aelin Firebringer. Heir of so many people. There are so many eyes, waiting and watching.

Adele messes up her G, again. She always messes up the G of Galathynius. She starts a new line, from her first name, and goes and goes, her little hand straining to hold the quill, straining to make it to the end.

She loops the G in the wrong direction.

“Rutting G!”

Adele likes to curse when she’s alone, and she spits the word Uncle Aedion taught her again and again. Her chest heaves and she pants, tearing the paper in half, shredding it to pieces, and splits them until she holds confetti.

Until she holds burning paper in too small hands. Ashes fall between her fingers, her palms unable to keep all that she holds, all that she burns.

She doesn’t often cry. Adele is a princess, Heir of Fire–she is strong.

But, she weeps. The blooming flame in her hands rutting scares her. She can’t put it out. She shakes her hands. She blows, but her breath is shallow and shaking.

Adele screams. Screams at her hands, at the fire, at the G’s she turned to ash and stomped beneath her feet. Her handheld fire blooms and grows. “Rutting stop!” Adele screams at her open, unburnt palms.

And then cool, soft but calloused hands, close over hers. Water meets her fire until there’s no more smoke, but steam. They are the most familiar hands in the world. Scarred and calloused; nimble, long fingers prone to playing a haughty tune on the pianoforte. Cool to the touch. Patient. They keep holding Adele’s, hers sweaty and clammy.

Adele doesn’t look up. Her chin dips to her chest as tears roll down her face, her nose.

Fingers catch her tears–cool, calloused, familiar. “Why do you cry, Fireheart?”

Adele sobs at the name. Exhausted, head splitting, she relinquishes to her mother’s embrace and nestles into the space between chin and breast. The safest place in the world, as if Mama’s body had been carved to fit Adele’s.

“Because,” Adele hiccups, “I’m not perfect.” Another hitch of uneven breath, then, “And it makes me feel lost.”

Mama grips Adele, tight and warm. She smells like the embers of a home’s hearth, like jasmine and wind. Adele presses her nose to her mother’s skin, clinging to the comfort.

When Mama pulls away just slightly, just enough so that their eyes meet, Adele looks away. Mama has none of it. Her palm cups Adele’s cheek, bringing them face to face. Turquoise and gold meet pine green. Soft meets sorrow. Mother sees daughter.

“Perfect,” Mama’s warm, fiery tone says, “can go to rutting hell.”

A knowing gleam shines in Mama’s eyes, perking the corner of mouth. Adele laughs nervously, but Mama laughs with her, hands still holding Adele’s flaming face from the crying. And the magic.

Mama’s finger tilts Adele’s chin up again, and this time Adele really looks at her. She wonders if she looks like her, or if Adele takes more after her father. Her cousins tease her that she’s too serious. A courtier from Mellisande had once pinched her cheeks and told her to smile more. Has anyone ever dared pinch the cheeks of Aelin Ashryver Galathynius? Adele holds the ends of her mother’s long, gold hair in a fist and wonders if she’ll wear that queenly, beautiful face one day. If she’ll carry grace and mischief as well as Aelin of the Wildfire. Adele knows the stories–well, just some. Just the ones from the shelves she could reach. Which, Adele knows, are the least interesting shelves in the Library of Orynth. She’ll have to start climbing to the higher, dustier shelves where the real stories are waiting for her. There’s a book up high that has Mama’s name on the spine. It ripples with red and gold and blue, as if a living flame wraps the pages. Another book beside it, The Walking Dead, doesn’t sound nearly as interesting as the one about her own mother.

Mama raises her brows slightly and looks down her lashes at Adele–a look she knows means to listen, and listen good. She’s the prettiest lady in the whole wide world.

“If I cared about being perfect,” Mama says softly, and a moment passes where her eyes cloud, as if she’d gone very far away. Adele doesn’t know what to call that look, that distance in her mother’s eyes, but she feels it. “I wouldn’t be me. And I,” her mother quirks a conspirator’s brow at Adele, the light in her eyes shining once more, “am rutting wonderful.”

Adele laughs again.

Her mother leans down to wiggle their noses together. “You are wonderful, my girl. No matter what you do, to whatever end, I will be the voice that never lets you forget it. I want nothing from you, Fireheart, other than to be completely yourself.”

“What if I’m not like you?”

Mama props Adele onto her feet so that she stands. Mama kneels before her, and Adele wonders if anyone in the world has ever seen Aelin on her knees. Adele knows she’s just a child, that there are things she doesn’t know, but she cannot imagine it–her mother, the strongest, most powerful person to ever exist, who Adele worships like a god–on her knees. But, Mama does kneel. Now, before Adele. Though she only meets the top of her mother’s head, Adele wonders if she’ll ever stand as tall as her.

“Then I’ll be glad for it.” Mama’s eyes flash and she almost looks like an animal from Oakwald with the intensity seeping through her, like fire taken skin. “Be yourself. Let yourself discover who that is. You do not belong in my shadow, Fireheart. You are the torch I carry.”

Mama catches a rogue tear, and something ripples across the surface of her face. Adele has only ever seen her mother cry at the birth of her brothers and baby sister, but she almost does now. Her eyes, the same as Grandmother Evalin and Arryn’s, mist.

“I was your age when…” Mama trails off, distant again, lost in thought as her gaze roams every inch of Adele, as if memorizing her, as if remembering something.

A breeze passes through the study though no windows are open. It smells like winter and Yulemas, and Adele instantly perks. She feels joy in her chest, a spark of belonging and home. Mama’s eyes flutter in that same joy Adele must be feeling.

Mama continues, having found the strength she needs, and says, “I was your age when a lot of people made me feel like I was wretched and horrible. The world hated me for a long, long time.” Mama smirks. “Someone always will.”

Adele balks at the idea of anyone even remotely disliking her mother, but Mama nods as if to say it’s the truth. “Let no one ever, ever make you feel that way. Not even me. No, you’re not perfect. You are my daughter.” Mama combs her fingers through Adele’s hair. “Which means, you’re bound to be misunderstood, to make mistakes. You are my daughter, which means, you’re bound to always get up again.”

They lean their brows together, and Mama whispers, just for Adele, “You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me.” Then, louder, “And you can tell your nosy, nursemaid father I said that.”

A deep chuckle sounds from the far ends of the study. Another winter wind that reminds Adele of all her favorite memories drifts to them. It combs through her hair, and Adele can feel Papa’s phantom hands, bigger than her head, bigger than any problem or tear.

Mama squeaks, jolting as if something had pinched her, and laughs as she throws a glare towards where Papa still lingers in the dark somewhere.

Before they get up to join him, her mother pulls her into one more tight embrace. Her arms are solid and muscled, and they hold Adele like precious jewels.

Mama whispers, “We carry a heavy name. Bear it however the rutt you want.” She leans back, eyes shining. “Now, let’s discuss your copious use of curse words.”

Adele shrieks, running away.

#lil one shot I had stuck in my head #mom!aelin #sneaky taylor Swift lyrics if you squint #throne of glass #throne of glass fic #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowaelin #rowaelin babies #heirs of terrasen #tog #tog fic #next gen tog #next gen throne of glass

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petalsthefish · 10 months ago

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Aelin being so sure no one is coming for her absolutely KILLS ME

Aelin is Queen of Denial…she just forgets to add it when she’s saying, “My name is Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, formerly and also known as Celaena Sardothien, the Lost Princess, the Queen of Terrasen, and the last surviving member of the Galathynius bloodline.”

#thats my baby #petals talks #aelin ashryver galathynius

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starfall-spirit · 2 years ago

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A Court of Twisted Wisdom

SJMNGW Prompt: Crossover

Summary: See ACOTW Masterlist

Chapter XV: Another One Lost

Roxanna

A bit late for reading, isn't it, Princess?

"Good evening, Clotho. I was hoping I could have some time down here to research. Perhaps find something to—" I sighed, choking on the last words.

The priestess rested a gnarled hand over mine. Your aunt and brother have requested time here to do the same. Yesterday and the day before. A few of the priestesses have taken it upon themselves to help as well. If Ayla is alive, she will be found.

I swallowed. "Aunt Nesta's scrying was hopeless. They're starting to consider... The Night Court holds the Dread Trove. The harp... Do you think there are other methods to crossing worlds? Would the priestesses know a book with theories, even?"

I'd call that prediction a stretch, if I hadn't seen the type of trouble your family tends to get into. She pulled something from behind her desk. As vast as this place is, the other priestesses and myself know a book out of place. These appeared on one of the new priestess' carts this morning. I haven't had the time to glance at more than a few pages, and they may be stray works of fiction, but if you truly believe your cousin has crossed realms then this may be the set for you. They had to have appeared with good reason, didn't they? The set doesn't belong to the library. You may take it with you if you wish.

"Thank you, Clotho. This means a lot to me."

You're very welcome, Princess.

"You don't have to call me that." I had been pushing that point for years.

Good night, Roxanna.

A spark of hope filled me and it took everything in me not to start reading right then. Snuggled into my bed a few moments later, I looked over the pair of books. They didn't seem to need to be read in a specific order. They were simply an old set that coordinated. Bound in worn brown leather, the books showed only basic map outlines and names above them. Erilea, the first said. Not so much as a pseudonym accompanied the bold-lettered title. Opening the book to hopefully find some sort of table of contents I found only blank pages.

"What use was giving me these?" But the pages began filling themselves, ink colored and black rolling over the pages to show the history of this other world. The pages moved on their own and moving images-a story-many stories played out in the air above me. The stories of gods I'd never heard of and their journeys, passing down gifts and blessings to the fae and mortals of their world. Gods had turned mortal, creating the roots of great family trees. A millennia of history put to paper. Families of Fenharrow, Adarlan, Terrasen. Other chapters spoke of witches and their once-cursed kingdom. Their cruel ancestors who brought an impossible war upon that realm. And I was sucked into their battle.

A wounded soldier fell through me as if I were mist. Still in my thin pajamas, no weapon in hand, no magic in my veins I was a wraith on the battlefield. There to observe. To learn. And just like that I was out of the fray, collapsing to the floor and interrupting what seemed to be a pleasant family meal, a few of those apparent war heroes gathered around a table. The second that fold of space and time opened the group was on it's feet, magic flickering to life. "Um, hi." A screech from the far end of the table met my ears and I was being tackled in a hug before I could even stand. Her scent hit me first. Ayla. She let out a sob, squeezing me tight. "By the Mother, Ayla, we've been worried sick!"

"I know. I've been trying to figure this out. I want to go home more than anything, believe me. But you figured it out. You can take me back."

"I—" I whirled around, looking for the book. "No. No, where's that damn book?"

A well tattooed silver-haired male cleared his throat. "Ayla, care to introduce us to your friend?"

"My cousin, Roxanna." She sniffled, keeping an arm around me. "We're really more like sisters. Rox, this is Rowan, Aelin, Aedion, Lysandra, and Orlon."

I nodded, now finding the names and faces recognizable. "You're the royal family." I stated, eyeing the Galathynius trio. Ayla raised a brow, surprised by my knowledge of the family. "Clotho gave me a set of books. I opened one on Erilea and saw a bunch of history and then was brought here. This is Terrasen, right?"

She nodded. "Those are the wings I saw," Orlon said. "In the dream. On you, Ayla."

The both of us tensed and a wariness filled the prince. "Yes," Ayla bit out, the single word almost venomous. Oh, there was something going on there. "I told you I had them. I told you I don't show them off when I don't know people well. I'm getting to know all of you and you've all be hospitable, but recent events... The only reason Rox has them out is because she can't hide them. Now, if you'll excuse us... Want to go train?" she asked. "Talk about the goings-on back home?" I nodded, yelping as something dull stabbed into my side. A wickedly gleeful laugh burst from my cousin that I could only relate to one thing. Weapons. Her swords, left behind in our world, had appeared in a double sheath at her waist. The other's around us looked a bit uneasy at the sound of that laugh and her giddy clapping when my training gear and blades appeared. She threw me a wink. "First blood wins."

"Gods help us," Rowan muttered. "She's like you, Aelin."

"What gods, Rowan?"

~~~~~

Orlon

She was a force of nature. And she hadn't shown her cards yesterday. She'd bested me far more easily than I realized. Because moving with her cousin... They were a whirlwind, driving into each other and pulling back just shy of a killing blow, tunneling in with that calm focus to keep their minds set in the fight as they threw out pointers to each other with warning strikes to unguarded body parts with a foot or the flat of their blade. And just like that, when Ayla finally lost her balance by pitching her weight too far her secret was revealed. Those wings, identical to her cousin.

"You're too reliant on them for a half-breed, cousin. Off balance so easily," Roxanna teased.

The sleek, clawed wings snapped open, exposing brutal scarring to the lower membrane. I didn't notice Aedion beside me until he let out a low whistle. "No wonder she was so defensive about them."

Recent events, she'd admitted. Recent events built her walls when it came to those stunning wings. The grimace on her face told me she was well aware of her audience and the exposure was unintentional. Instinctual, to hold her ground in the fight. But she didn't hide them away again, merely sending out a bit of magic to repair her torn shirt, hiding that hint of tattoo I'd gotten a glimpse of. With a jerk of her head she sheathed her blades and gave a hard flap, rising off the ground and throwing a quip I couldn't hear to Roxanna. The second girl smirked, soaring up past her cousin and starting what seemed to be a race. She had those horrid scars too

"What do you think happened to them?"

"She said over dinner Illyrians are backwards in their thinking. I imagine they were two young women targeted somewhere and overpowered. She said her father is a respected general. Speaking as his equivalent, my priority has always been to protect my family. There are a lot of people, citizens and soldiers, who were leveraged over me. Do yourself a favor and stop prying, kid."

Previous | Next

~~~~~

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@sjmnextgenweek // @goddess-aelin // @the-lonelybarricade // @shallyne // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @faeriequeensuriel

#a court of twisted wisdom #acotw #next gen #terrasen #sjmnextgenweek2023 #crossover fic #prythian #nessian child mc #prompt #crossover #day 3 #it's midnight so i can post this

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shelbeetaylor · 7 months ago

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Story Soundtrack

-> story masterpost

Music is something really important to me, so I love to make playlists for my stories and my characters. This soundtrack is essentially what the killer backing track would be if my story was a TV show :)

-> Spotify Playlist

Part One: Water of the Womb

Chapter One: In the Beginning. -> Chapter Prologue: She Jumped! — Cruella -> Evie Sees Vale Serine: All is Found (Lullaby Version) - Outtake — Frozen II -> Chapter Outro: The Ballad of Terrasen — Victoria Carbol Chapter Two: You Could Live Here. -> Chapter Intro: You Could Live Here Now — Maleficent -> Chapter Outro: The Phoenix — Fall Out Boy Chapter Three: A Decent Spot to Read. -> Chapter Intro: Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene — Hozier -> Chapter Outro: Blood in the Wine — AURORA Chapter Four: She’s Bitter, Salty, & Never Sleeps. -> Chapter Intro: The Forged Seal — Merlin -> Cassandra at the Break of Day: rises the moon — Liana Flores -> Chapter Outro: clementine — Halsey Chapter Five: Girls Just Wanna Fight Boys. -> Chapter Intro: Someday My Prince Will Come — Emile Pandolfi -> Unseen Montage of Cassandra’s Absolute Domination: That Man — Caro Emerald -> Cassandra vs. Wesley: Almost Touch Me — Maisy Kay -> Chapter Outro: Cherry Wine - Live — Hozier Chapter Six: Sibling Rivalry. -> Chapter Intro: Pretty When You Cry — Lana Del Rey -> Cassandra and Theo Fight: Biting Down — Lorde -> Chapter Outro: Putting the Dresses in the Safe — Cruella Chapter Seven: Hello My Old Heart. -> Chapter Intro / Cassandra Meets with the King of Valoran: Lancelot Leaves — Merlin -> Chapter Outro: Beekeeper — WandaVision Chapter Eight: Flowers & Spells. -> Chapter Intro: The Machinations of Cedric — Merlin -> Chapter Outro: You Won’t Be Satisfied — Doris Day Chapter Nine: Stop Losing. -> Chapter Intro: The Necklace — Cruella -> Chapter Outro: Don't Make Me — MALINDA Chapter Ten: Danse Macabre. -> Chapter Intro: I Didn’t Change My Number — Billie Eilish -> The Missing Princess’s Dance: Danse Macabre — Camille Saint-Saens -> Chapter Outro: Wildest Dreams — Duomo Chapter Eleven: Pursuits. -> Chapter Intro: Daydreamer — The Crane Wives -> The Chase: Angels (Radio Edit) — Vicetone -> Chapter Outro: Chaos Mode — DEZI Chapter Twelve: Insult and Injury. -> Chapter Intro: Guinevere — Merlin -> Chapter Outro: everything i wanted — Billie Eilish Chapter Thirteen: Perhaps a Dream, Perhaps a Memory. -> Chapter Intro: Alewife — Clairo -> Chapter Outro: Who Are You? — WandaVision Chapter Fourteen: One Dagger, Two Endings. -> Chapter Intro: Reaping Day — The Hunger Games -> Cassandra Yells at Enoch: Atlantis — Seafret -> The Plan Begins / Chapter Outro: Battle of Marnadal — The Witcher Chapter Fifteen: Promises. -> Chapter Intro: Arthur Asked to Lead — Merlin -> Chapter Outro: Genesis — Ruelle

Part Two: Life and Death

Chapter Sixteen: Painful Memories. -> Chapter Intro / The Send Off: Big God — Florence + The Machine -> Chapter Outro: Various Storms & Saints — Florence + The Machine Chapter Seventeen: A Girl and Her Books. -> Chapter Intro: Never Give All the Heart — SMASH -> Chapter Outro: Wildflower — 5 Seconds of Summer Chapter Eighteen: Je Regrette Tout. -> Chapter Intro: The Bond of Sacrifice — Merlin -> Chapter Outro: Dancing After Death - Stripped — Matt Maeson Chapter Nineteen: Wonderings and Willow Trees. -> Chapter Intro: Ballerina — Yehezkel Raz -> The Willow Tree: willow — Taylor Swift -> Chapter Outro: Hugging You — Tom Rosenthal Chapter Twenty: Evie's Grand Plan. -> Chapter Intro: Parcheesi — WandaVision -> Chapter Outro: Flowers in My Hair — Wes Reeve Chapter Twenty-One: The Statue. -> Chapter Intro: Long & Lost — Florence + The Machine -> Chapter Outro: Slow and Steady — Of Monsters and Men Chapter Twenty-Two: Castle of Flowers. -> Chapter Intro / Cassandra Didn't Take Me With Her: Bloom — The Paper Kites -> Chapter Outro: It's A Good Day — Peggy Lee Chapter Twenty-Three: The Scheming Begins Again. -> Chapter Intro: Northern Italy — Margaux Beylier -> Chapter Outro: Free Spirit — Khalid Chapter Twenty-Four: Angels in the Graveyard. -> Chapter Intro / The Graveyard: Sokovia — WandaVision -> Chapter Outro: Dancing After Death — Matt Maeson Chapter Twenty-Five: A Lesson in Thievery -> Chapter Intro: Thank You For Coming — WandaVision -> Chapter Outro: Float — KT Tunstall Chapter Twenty-Six: Fire and Raîne -> Chapter Intro: The Substitute Knight — Merlin -> Chapter Outro: Ancient History — The Crane Wives Chapter Twenty-Seven: Healing By Fire -> Chapter Intro / The Waterfall: The Mortal Boy King — The Paper Kites -> Chapter Outro: bones on the beach — Paris Paloma Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Scars That Haven't Faded -> Chapter Intro / The Fall of Wystwillow: escape pod — Paris Paloma -> The Party is a Success / Chapter Outro: Drinking Song for the Socially Anxious — The Amazing Devil Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Whisper on the Wind -> Chapter Intro / Waiting to Speak: Getting Older — Billie Eilish -> The Return to Vale Serine: Traveling Song — Ryn Weaver -> Chapter Outro: Queen of Peace — Florence + The Machine

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acourtofquestions · 4 months ago

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The Assassin and The Princess

a Crown of Midnight exclusive scene

from the Throne of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas

This story belongs to its writer Sarah J. Maas & the many affiliates it may concern. I claim NO ownership of this story, and give full credit to said parties.

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maasmuse · 10 months ago

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"Do you mean?" Aelin whispered, hope leaking though.

"Long term yes. We want to see you back on your throne in Terrasen." Manon agreed.

Manon let that settle in for a moment. She could see the poor girl mind spinning as she was trying to align everything.

"It's a long and subtle game as we don't want war and bloodshed of either of our people if we can help it. The lives lost and we weakend state it would make both your crowns would be not worth it I fear. I would much rather Arobynn just not wake up one day. But that does involve more work then just killing him with the court he has built up and-"

"and timings not to anger or worry your other allies I get it. Trust me. My mum and dad didn't raise a princess that was unaware of the complexity of ruling and I have continued learning whenever I could since their murder." For this. To get back her crown.

"Thank you." She said, looking up at them both. Eyes watering. She didn't trust either of them yet. Not really. Her body wouldn't let her forget all the years of pain that quickly and she wasn't stupid enough for her brain to let her trust that quickly either. But it was a start. She would have to wait and see if they held up their end.

"Correct." Manon confirmed.

Aelin felt like she couldn't breathe.

That man....killed her parents, abused her for years, sold her off and then was going to kill her at best, drag her back at worsed.

She was brought from the brink of a panic attack by her iron freezing her till it burned.

She cursed and held her wrist catching up with the last part of the conversation.

That made sense why they would want to and while she had plenty she wanted to hide. She didn't want them to see her weaknesses and exploit them. She knew she didn't have a choice.

"I wouldn't imagine you will need to look far to believe that I hate Arobynn."

"I imagine it won't, no." Manon replied somberly. "I hope you understand why I need too."

"I think if roles were reversed I would demand the same. Go on then." Aelin spoke far more bravely than she had any right too. Lysander always said Arobynn would never fully succeed in beating the royalty out of Aelin. It often came out more when she was overwhelmed enough to stop thinking. It was that or a panic attack.

Manon closed her eyes to help her concentrate and soon was delving into Aelin's mind. And at first she found love and happiness with blurred images of parental figures and then...Aelin was right. It didn't take long for her to see why Aelin could never be involved.

It was a blessing Aelin wasn't reliving what she was seeing. Manon wouldn't do that to her.

Manon opened her eyes and nodded her thanks.

"All fine." Manon said, trying to force down the memories that Aelin's stirred in her own.

"Did you even do anything?" Aelin asked confused.

"Subtle magic is my expertise My Queen."

#muse: manon #muse: aelin

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delulu-is-the-soluluh · 4 months ago

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Scars of Flames and Shadows | Chap 2

Chap 1 | Chap 3

A Dark!Rowaelin x afab!Reader

Warnings: Lots of pining. Drama (I’m a drama queen); Set one month before the events of AB.

Chapter 2 | The Assassin and The Spy

Celaena pov:

I can’t believe Arobynn had the audacity to send me to this decrepit part of Rifthold. And yes, it was business and the client offered a decent sum, but I can’t ignore this scum of the place. It truly reflected just how much the client despised the target: an abusive father, slain at his daughter's request. He often came around here to buy drugs and alcohol before returning home to “demonstrate” his fragile masculinity to his family.

Typically, I would have a little bit of fun with this type of job: I get to have one less abuser in the world and explore new ‘methods’. I was inspired tonight. Had a plan and everything. But he had to die within thirty minutes. I had hoped to spend at least half the night relieving some tension. Instead, I was left fuming in a rat hole, my clothes way too fine for this, feeling grotesquely out of place, breathing a repugnant smell of air, and so frustrated.

That’s why I stood in the doorway of a filthy bar, scanning the dim interior, sulking about this crap of evening. I needed to find a way to blow off steam. A brawl in a dingy bar seemed like the perfect escape—losing myself in a little chaos might help to drown out the boredom gnawing at me.

Thankfully an opportunity soon presented itself. One of the drunken patrons made a lewd comment accusing me, rightfully so, of cheating in a card game. A few snarky remarks later, and they were on it. Fists flew, chairs splintered, and bodies collided in a whirlwind of aggression. For a moment, I was lost in the cathartic release. But it still wasn't enough. Their punches were too amateur and the chaos didn’t bring me any relief.

As the brawl raged on, I stumbled toward the door, the sense of agitation pressed more intensely against my ribs. I was about to slip out when I collided with someone. I was ready to throw them on the floor but they kept balance. So I looked up, ready to lash out again, only for shock hit me like a tidal wave.

It couldn’t be. She wasn’t supposed to be alive—Arobynn had said...

But there she was. Y/N was before me, alive and well, her eyes wide and surprised as I could hear my heart in my ears: She recognized me

Without a second thought, I turned and bolted. I couldn’t let her see me like this, couldn’t risk my identity or her safety. Despair clawed at my chest as I ran. Y/N was alive. She survived, she.. Why was she here? What was she doing in Adarlan?

The sound of footsteps behind me broke through my thoughts and I dared to look behind. Fuck she was fast, faster than I remembered. My breath quickened, and I pushed myself harder, darting through alleys and leaping over obstacles. I scaled walls with ease, my movements fluid and precise. But Y/N kept up, relentlessly stubborn still.

I darted across the rooftops hoping to lose Y/N in the maze of buildings, until the sound of her steps began to fade. “Finally,” I thought, dropping down into a secluded alley. I leaned against the wall, ripping off my mask to catch my breath. How did this happen? How had she found me, and if so where was Aedion?

It was just a glimpse. A breathtaking glimpse and I didn't even know I could still feel that, let alone be.. I need to put myself together. ‘I’m Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan’s best assassin, heir and prote-’

A soft thud echoed in front of me interrupting my thoughts and I looked up, alarmed. The moon casted a pale light over the narrow passage as Y/N stepped forward, her eyes widening in recognition and disbelief. A smile began to bloom on her lips as she parted them to speak. “My gods… It is you…”

Gods she was beautiful. Her voice, matured and raspy, struck me with a wave of conflicting emotions way too strong for my liking. My heart leapt, but I forced myself to stay as composed as I can be, my gaze cold and unyielding as Y/N walked toward me.

“Ael-” She didn’t get a chance to finish as I ran toward her, lunging to bring her down. I need to escape before any more questions or emotions could complicate matters.

I wasn't expecting when she fought back, quick on her reflexes and certain astonishment upon her face. She still ducked and twisted, blocking my initial strike with a defensive posture. “Please, stop,” Y/N gasped, her voice edged with desperation as she tried to fend off my assault.

I was fierce, aiming to bring her down rather than maim. I landed a few solid blows, but Y/N’s instincts kept her from falling.Pride started to bloom in my chest, to know she’s skilled and trained. It was thrilling and.. a bit exciting. Each time I tried to pin her down, She dodged or countered with quick, fluid movements.

As I moved in to grapple Y/N, I attempted to pin her against the wall. Y/N twisted free, striking back with a powerful kick to my midsection, forcing me to stagger back. Her eyes were full of anguish and determination as she panted, “Why are you doing this? Aelin...”

“Who the hell is Aelin?” I said through gritted teeth, trying to maintain control and balance of the fight.

Her face crumbled, eyes flooding with pain before anger quickly took its place. I could barely react before she came at me and pinned me down to the floor. Damn, she was strong. Finally, a worthy opponent. I grinned, ready to free myself when Y/N's eyes revealed nothing but anguish.“You don’t fool me... Please, all I ask for is one moment...” Her voice was low and filled with despair. “I can’t let you go again...”

Her plea struck me like a physical blow. The world around me seemed to blur as my resolve wavered under her gaze. She seemed to sense the shift in my demeanor. With a fluid motion, she released her hold and gently helped me to my feet. Despite the urgency of our confrontation, her touch was careful, almost tender—as if she were handling something precious, even in the midst of our struggle.

The walls I had built around myself slowly began to crumble, leaving me exposed to a torrent of memories and feelings I had long buried. The tension was replaced by a fragile silence that spoke volumes. I couldn't let this happen—I had to maintain my control.

“I’ve been looking for you... non-stop,” Y/N’s voice was breathy and raw. “I’ve been looking for clues, for leads, and—”

The sharp sound of my dagger being retrieved from my sheath cut through the air. “Stop deluding yourself. You’re not the hero here, you’re just a nuisance I’ve been trying to avoid. So save your tears and get out of my way.”

It was uncalled for. Hypocritical even, when the embellished hilt of my blade concealed our necklaces. So insincere when “Celaena” is named because of it. Rage flashed into her eyes and never left mine as she strode to me, grabbing my wrist, pulling me in and aiming my dagger at her fifth rib.

“Kill me then.” A heartbeat passed “ it only proves how deeply you're haunted by it”

my eyes astonished by her recklessness as a bitter smirk appeared on her face. “What part of ‘I can’t let you go’ don’t you understand?” Her voice filled with agony and determination. Her proximity allowed her gaze to drift to my lips. I couldn’t help but do the same to her. “Just one moment... I’m begging you.”

I sighed as I met Y/N’s determined gaze. “Alright,” I whispered. “One moment.”

The full moonlight was nothing compared to the smile she gave me.

I reached the small, rundown inn a couple of streets away from that alley for its privacy and minimal patronage, making it safer for our conversation. Entering the dimly lit room, I was greeted by the musty smell of old wood and worn fabric. I closed the door behind us and turned to face Y/N. Before I could say anything, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. “I knew it you were alive,” she murmured against my shoulder, her voice breaking with emotion.

I stood frozen for a moment, the warmth of her embrace seeping through the cold barriers I had built around my heart. Slowly, I raised my arms and returned the hug, my body trembling with the flood of suppressed emotions. “I missed you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

We pulled back slightly, Y/N’s hands resting gently on my shoulders. Our eyes locked in a tender gaze. “Can you tell me what happened then? What’s been going on?” she murmured softly, concern evident in her voice. I hesitated before shaking my head slightly, guiding her to sit on the worn bed. “I want to hear from you first,” I said quietly. “Tell me what’s been happening with you.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, her eyes searching mine for strength as she began to recount her story. She shared everything—from the night we survived to Aedion and the Rebellion, her training, and her arguments with Darrow, which made me laugh a little; some things never changed. I felt a deep sense of relief at hearing that Aedion was alive and well. It was a comfort to know that amidst all the chaos, someone I cared about was safe and thriving

I did the same right after. I recounted my story in detail—how I survived that night and became Celaena and everything that happened during these years. As I spoke, Y/N’s face clouded with sorrow and regret, her eyes reflecting the weight of my suffering. Her heartache was visible and deepened with each revelation about my life in the Guild and the isolation I endured. Her hand gripped mine tightly, as if trying to hold onto me amidst the flood of emotions. A vivid reminder of our shared past and the emotional cost of our separation.

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. “I can’t believe you’re Celaena Sardothien,” she breathed, a trembling laugh escaping her. “Earlier tonight, I joked about how someone must be incredibly lucky to find you. Turns out, I was right.”

I nodded, a bitter smile touching my lips as Y/N took in the gravity of my words. “All this time… you were right here, so close yet so distant.”

“I did what I had to do to survive, even if it meant hiding in plain sight.” I replied, my voice heavy with regret. Y/N reached out, her fingers brushing against mine. "We’ve both paid our prices. But we’re here now and we have a chance to fight back, to reclaim what was lost." I pulled my hand away, the flicker of hope dimming. "I can’t..." Y/N shook her head lightly, looking at me with confusion. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I can’t go with you, Y/N. I’m stuck with the Guild. Arobynn keeps track of every ‘investment’ he makes in me,” I said softly, looking at my hands.

“I can pay. I’ll pay your debt and we’ll go—” Y/N said with determination, but I cut her off with a sigh. “It’s an insane amount of money...” I answered, a bitter taste in my mouth, realizing how much I had spent on whims and quirks.

Y/N went still for a moment, analyzing my features as she said quietly, "Have you ever thought of coming back? Of reclaiming your throne?" I was silent, my expression unreadable. Y/N’s frustration grew as her eyes turned cold. "You never even considered it, did you?"

"I thought no one survived," I tried to explain, my voice strained, still not looking at her. "That's what I was told. That everyone was dead." Y/N grabbed my hand, searching for my eyes, voice fierce.

"But now we know that’s not true. I’m here, Aedion is alive and so are Ren, Darrow - Hell even Maurtaugh is alive! And there’s the rebellion, an army that we’re building for you…” She shook her head, as if trying to understand a puzzle “Does that change anything?"

I looked away, the silence heavy between us. The weight of my choices and fears hung in the air, leaving me speechless. Y/N’s gaze softened but remained resolute “You’re scared that Arobynn will come and report us, right? It’s not because you’ve given up.. isn't it?”

I stood quiet and after what felt like hours, I looked at Y/N, guilt, sadness, and shame evident in my eyes. “Aelin Galathynius is dead.” I whispered. I almost could feel Y/N’s heart wrenched at my words, but she didn’t back down. Her grip tightened on my hand, a mixture of pain and determination in her eyes.

“If she is truly dead, then we'll let her go. But you and I... we’re still here. We can still fight, still reclaim what was lost. Crowned or not” Y/N’s voice wavered but held a steely resolve. “I can’t do this alone, we can’t do this alone. And if you won’t come back for yourself, then come back for the people who still believe in you, in her.”

My eyes flickered with conflicting emotions, my mind racing with the weight of my choices. I swallowed hard as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my ornate dagger. “There’s something I need to give you,” I said softly, handing it to Y/N. “Our necklaces... they’re inside the hilt. I kept them all these years.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she traced the intricate design of the dagger, her fingers trembling. When she carefully opened the hilt, revealing the hidden necklaces, tears welled up in her eyes. She looked back at me with a mix of relief and sorrow. “I thought I had lost mine,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

A bittersweet smile touched my lips. “It got stuck in my dress that night and fell onto the bed... I couldn’t let go of it. Not completely. Not of you.”

The weight of the moment hung heavily between us, the past and present colliding in a whirlwind of emotions. Y/N stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “If Aelin is gone, then let me say goodbye to her properly.”

The intensity of her gaze held me captive. I felt my heart race as she closed the distance between us. Our breaths mingled, charged with a longing that had been suppressed for far too long. I whispered Y/N’s name as her fingers brushed against my cheek, her touch gentle yet electrifying. “We’ve both been carrying this weight for too long,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Let's just be who we really are, even if just for tonight.” The room seemed to shrink around us, the air heavy with unspoken promises. As she leaned in, I felt the pull of her warmth and the magnetism of her presence.

Our lips met in a slow, tender kiss—my first ever. Why had I denied myself this connection for so long?—The softness of her lips against mine was both startling and comforting, as if all the years of hidden longing and unspoken passion had found their voice in this single, perfect moment. Her hands gently traveled through my hair, caressing the back of my neck and resting on my waist, as if trying to memorize this moment. I responded in kind, my fingers brushing her cheek, slipping into her hair, and exploring the contours of her back. The kiss deepened, a dance of passion and vulnerability, filled with the weight of what could have been and the hope of what might still be.

Our kiss lingered, a bittersweet testament to what we had lost and what might still be. When we finally parted, breathless and trembling, I looked into her eyes, seeing the raw emotion that mirrored my own. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with undeniable sincerity, her fingers caressing my cheeks. “I’ll be waiting for you, no matter how long it takes. So please... think about what I’ve offered.”

My resolve wavered for just a moment as I took a step back, the storm of emotions threatening to consume me. "I can't go with you," I said, my voice barely a whisper but cutting through the silence like a knife. "There's too much at stake. And If I stay any longer, the Guild will notice. They'll come after you and then after the rebellion.." Each word felt like a dagger to my heart, but I forced myself to continue as I shook my head. "I can’t."

The pain in her eyes was almost unbearable, and I felt my heart shatter in response. "So that's it, then?" Her voice cracked, filled with a bitterness that stung more than any blade. "You're staying here while I... I just leave?"

My eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. This is the only way I can keep you safe." She nodded, her expression a mix of disbelief and sorrow. "Okay," she managed to say, though the word sounded hollow, devoid of hope. "I understand."

The finality of it hung between us, a suffocating weight. I watched her as she took a deep breath, looked at the dagger in her hands and stood up; Walking towards the door, each step she took felt like a piece of my soul was being torn away.

The silence behind her was deafening, and with each step, the distance between us grew wider. As the door closed, I fought the urge to call out to her, to change my mind, to run after her and leave everything behind. But I knew I couldn't. I sank onto the hollow bed, the ache of her absence a fierce, unrelenting force. Each breath felt like a struggle as I felt my eyes tear up. What a painful reminder of lost possibilities.

I took my time to build my walls again, to put on the mask of savagery and cruelty that for so long has been mine. When I finally stood up, the numbness that enveloped me was profound, my steps heavy as I left the inn behind, stepping into a world that felt colder than ever.

Author’s note: I tried to keep close to the character but I think I’ve failed :/

It was tricky, since Celaena has a push and pull behavior with “new” people and only opens up after a 'life or death' situation (as we see with Sam and some scenes with Ansel in AB) while Aelin it is in fact more in touch with her feelings (but still a keeper of them) and tends to show her vulnerable side at first to her family (like after rescuing Aedion in QoS and her first encounter with Elide in EoS). My idea was to demonstrate the Celaena/Aelin egos clashing but I think it didn't work.

But please have faith in me and I promise you that the good stuff is about to come. Just give me like two more chapters (maybe one) and you’ll hear a jealous hawk screeching and too many people living under the same roof :D

Thank you for all the reblogs and likes, it means the world to me <3

Tag List (omg my first taglist aknsjd)

@acourtofbatboydreams @throneofsapphics

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heartstringgs · 4 years ago

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#throne of glass #tog #fireheart #aelin fireheart #queen of terrasen #the lost princess #FireBreathingBitchQueen

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feyres-divorce-lawyer · 1 year ago

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that part right there. like lord darrow and the other terrasen lords get shit on for not giving aelin the throne, but it would’ve made no sense if they did. yes, aelin becoming a child assassin is no fault of her own but she did gain a reputation. everyone knew how brutal adarlan’s assassin was and suddenly she turns out the lost princess of a country that’s barely hanging on. aelin didn’t help herself by going on threaten them, she just proved their point. the lords had being in charge of terrasen for a decade, no way should they just hand it over to a teenage girl with no political experience. a teenage girl with god-killing power, might i add. despite what rowan thinks, (and what chaol is unfairly hated for), people had every reason to be sacred of aelin (see her threatening to burn down a city of innocent people TWICE) and so did the lords.

no, you know what, i’m still mad at the people who vilified aedion for his reaction. because what the hell do you mean “he overreacted”? you think being rightfully angered that your cousin, who you would die for, came up with a plan that turned you into a fucking sperm bank, relayed that plan to someone you wanted to marry, to which she agreed, and then you not finding out until your cousin had been kidnapped by a sadistic queen, is an overreaction? hey siri play “shut up” by ariana grande.

“oH bUt He CaLlEd HeR a BitCh eVeN tHoUgH hE kNeW hEr PaSt” and lysandra agreed to that plan even though she knew aedion had sold his body to keep the rest of terrasen’s army alive, so she can deal.

“Oh He ThReW hEr OuT iNtO tHe SnOw” i’m like 85% sure he didn’t physically throw her out, he told her to get out, but someone go and re-read that book that should’ve been 200 pages shorter, cuz i’m not

honestly, i think the way people reacted to aedion’s consent being violated like this is why miss janet thought it was ok for flopsand to do what he did and for feyre to not get angry abt it. because when ppl point out the victims in both situations, and how both of their autonomies were restricted, y’all lose your minds.

#her ability to disembowel someone doesnt translate to making good leadership choices #😬#what kate said a thousand times #justice for aedion #justice for rowan too #for organizational purposes #anti aelin #throne of glass

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mariaofdoranelle · 2 years ago

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Royal Rebels — Prologue

Masterlist

I’m so so happy to show you this! I was going to wait a little more to post, but I got a little eager today and I already have an outline and 15k words so what’s the point of waiting? Lol

I’m going to use my general tag list now for the heads up and then make a different one for this au so let me know if you want to be tagged!

The prologue will be right below the synopsis. I hope you like it!

CW: cursing, small fire

Word count: 2,2k

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

When Queen Maeve starts taking merciless measures to save Doranelle from an economic collapse, two old enemies, frenemies with benefits, lovers, acquaintances, Princess Aelin Galathynius and Prince Rowan Whitethorn, must reunite to reach one goal: kill Maeve without starting a war. However, as they get closer to the Fae Queen, Aelin and Rowan might need to overcome old issues and wounds in order to work together efficiently, considering how quickly they could become the prey.

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

One year before

As Aelin sauntered into the closet she kept exclusively for her arms and armor collection, she mused about the line between loving a weapon and becoming one. Among her pieces it was easy to spot ones that were historical, personalized, jeweled, blades made of watered steel, armors made of gold. The room was big enough to have a small party inside, but Aelin didn’t want to stall. She took a deep breath, picked a dagger and some other blades and left.

Sneaking out of the castle wasn’t news to her, but she still got a little thrill on the first moments out on the streets. No guards, no bowing down or tiptoeing around her, not one person afraid of the Fire-Bringer. As much as Aelin looked forward to her future as a queen, she loved to be able to blend into the streets and just get lost in the crowds sometimes.

Thankfully, she didn’t need to ask directions to get to her favorite blacksmith. Aelin knew she could hire a small team just to forge and take care of her weapons if that was her wish, but she preferred to be discreet and take care of them herself. Every little thing Aelin did ended up being attached to her fire magic and reinforced people’s ideas on how she would act as a ruler, whether the opinion was good or bad. Her military power had been proved enough since her childhood, adding it to the attachment she had to her weapons and training... It would be too much, specially when Aelin’s temper occasionally got the best of her. Terrasen was a peaceful kingdom, if she tried hard enough, people would realize she could be a good match for a queen.

But she was used to it now, Aelin thought as she walked down the streets of Orynth and bought whatever street vendors tried to sell her, fulfilling her father’s exhausted wish that If you insist on sneaking out, at least help boosting the economy. When the sunlight got stronger and her skin started to tingle, Aelin thoughtlessly tugged at her magic, but stopped before her hand was filled with bright flames.

Anyway, her weapon situation wasn’t a real problem. Aelin could still do her thing. It just needed to be toned-down, so people wouldn’t perceive her as The Bloodthirsty Queen. However, that didn’t stop her from showing off to the few people she trusted, her cousin Galan being one of them. He was a bit late on his trip to visit her, something about two friends surprising him in Varese. She didn’t remember the details in the letter anymore, just told her court lady to include those friends in the arrangements.

Entering the costumer’s antechamber, Aelin waved at the blacksmith’s assistant, who already knew what she was there for. He immediately blushed and then waved back, but stumbled on a few boxes on his way because he kept looking at her while walking. Aelin only stopped to analyze her surroundings when an intoxicating smell of pine and snow assaulted her senses. When she looked for the source of it, there was a set of pine green eyes staring at her, sending a thrill on her body that made the flames beneath her skin dance.

Aelin had absolutely no control over her legs when she walked to him. It wasn’t even like her to flirt with random people. If anything happened, she would just tell herself she slipped and fell on hot stranger’s lap. “Well, that’s a fancy sword you have picked.”

Hot nice-smelling stranger had a tiny smirk on his lips before he opened his mouth and closed it again and looked at her thoughtfully. “Are you familiar with them?”

Aelin leaned on the table and stroked gently the blade closest to her. “Familiar enough to be one of Brullo’s favorite costumers. You seem like potential competition.” Aelin tilted her head, making her neck visible as her hair fell to the side, and sized him up.

Pine green-eyed stranger set his sword with a pine green hilt on the table and angled his body towards her, reducing their distance. “Is Brullo the blacksmith or the assistant? Do you think I can compete if it’s the latter?”

Aelin’s breath halted. “I think you can handle it just fine.”

Aelin could clearly see hot stranger’s pupils dilating until it swallowed most of his irises. “I assume you’re from Orynth.”

“I assume you aren’t.”

“No. I’ll be here for a handful of weeks, probably. It’s not up to me.”

“And that requires this gigantic sword?”

He twirled the sword on his hand. “I left mine at home, and you never know the next dragon you’ll have to slay.”

Was Hot Stranger a fantasy book reader too? Aelin smirked at him. “Are you here on vacation or on duty?”

Rowan glanced at a blonde Fae who had just neglected the weapons he was choosing to flirt with another costumer. After a deep sigh, he answered, “A mix of both.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Is that so?”

Hot Stranger snorted, “Sometimes you have to stop people from making a disaster.”

They were interrupted by the assistant coming with Aelin’s new dagger, which was absolutely stunning. Its size was perfect for her to carry around, and the blade was simple, slim and silver. However, the hilt was ornamented with gold in lots of small, wavy forms that looked like flames. She had payed in advance, so she put the blade away after admiring it for a little longer. Hot Stranger was looking thoughtfully at her when she focused back on him.

“What’s your name?”

Aelin hoped he didn’t see her fidget while she replied, “Celaena. Yours?”

“Rowan,” he said before slightly biting his lips, “Where can I find you in Orynth?”

She tilted her head and grimaced. “You won’t.” She wasn’t happy with that answer, he really seemed like a good ride. However, Aelin couldn’t. Rowan was completely off-limits. If her cousin Aedion or her father even suspected she had escaped the castle to buy weapons and ended up flirting with a foreign Fae stranger twice her size, she’d never see the end of it.

His brows furrowed. “Well, that’s a shame, Celaena.”

She took a deep breath. “Indeed.”

On her walk back home, Aelin kept replaying the moments with Rowan in her head, but she was sure it was because she was bored. In fact, she was so bored she got ready early reading in her room until Aedion picked her up.

“Excited, Ae? You’re not even late,” He said with raised eyebrows before linking arms with her.”

“Shut up. You know Galan is my second favorite cousin too.” Aelin was nodding at people they passed by with her chin raised as Aedion laughed in the middle of the hall.

When they entered the Throne Room, Galan’s party was already there. She smiled broadly at him and sent a tiny wave, until she swayed a little on her steps and her mouth fell open.

By the side of her cousin, was Rowan from the blacksmith and his blonde friend. Rowan was already blinking quickly at her, as if checking his own vision. When his friend whispered something to him, he gulped and straightened his posture immediately. Adding it to the sword she saw earlier, it was easy to tell he was a military man. He could be a general from a remote area of Wendlyn, that would explain why she had never seen him when visiting Varese. That thought made her smile, and when they looked back at each other, he nodded at her with a hint of a smile. Aelin didn’t even worry about lying her name to him, she seemed to be pretty much forgiven.

She had noticed Aedion eyeing her suspiciously, but she didn’t care. The announcement of the guests was mostly brief, but the longer it kept going, the more she became curious to know what he did back in Wendlyn with her cousin. Aelin’s heart started racing as Rowan started being announced.

Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle

Wait, what?

How in hell did Maeve’s nephew get inside her castle?

Aelin sensed Aedion’s body tense besides her, too.

Maeve, the creepiest person Aelin had ever known, even though she had only read letters from her. Asking her to visit Doranelle so they could get to know each other since Aelin was born.

Queen Maeve of Doranelle, the person Aelin knew was up to no good when it came to her.

Aelin had never set foot in Doranelle for a reason, but its Queen had found a way to sneak her people into her castle.

No fucking way.

After the guests were sent to their rooms, Aelin and Aedion locked themselves in a broom closet away from prying ears and started an emergency meeting.

Aelin blurted, “Do you think he’s trying to kill me?”

Aedion clenched his jaw, making some facial muscles jump. “Over my dead body.” He seemed to mull on something while started to crack his knuckles. “We should kill him first.”

Aelin’s eyes went wide. “Are you out of your mind? He’s the most powerful Fae alive, completely war material if we kill him out of the blue.” Her body stilled. “Maybe that’s exactly what Maeve wants.” Aelin was definitely not going to be the queen who murders her guests on their first day visiting.

As if sensing her thoughts, Aedion offered, “I can kill him if you want. Take the blame and shit.”

“No. Don’t.” Aelin’s thoughts were unfocused, her heartbeat racing as she thought on other solutions, but their hands were tied. Aelin started scratching her forehead. She didn’t know much, but of one thing she was sure.

Maeve’s best lackey was here on a mission, and her idiot cousin had just led him inside.

She knew Doranelle and Wendlyn were political allies, but she didn’t know Galan and the Whitethorns were freaking buddies.

Aelin was going to dismember Galan. And then incinerate what was left of her cousin.

One moment she was with Aedion, the other going towards the Guest Wing, her cousin hot on her heels. She didn’t need to ask which room he was at, the trail of his steps was easy to follow.

“Excuse me, boys. Would you mind staying back for a little while?” She said with a sweet smile at the castle’s guards stationed beside his door, who complied without a second thought. “Wait for me here, Aedion. You’ll know if you need to come.” Aelin stared at Rowan Whitethorn’s door for a few seconds and took a deep breath. It was going to be fine.

Then she set his door on fire until it burned to a crisp and barged into his room without announcing herself. But if you really thought about it, the fire was announcement enough. Despite her big entrance, Rowan didn’t even bat an eye at her. In fact, he was sat on a couch, tending for his daggers. Shirtless. But she wouldn’t be affected by his shirtlessness. It was absolutely disgusting, the way she could trace the movement of each muscle as he wiped—

“Good evening, Celaena,” he sneered her alias, “Can I help you?”

“Absolutely.” She sat on a chair across from him, her posture perfect as she assessed him.

Rowan raised his brows at her.

“I didn’t get to compliment your choice of sword at the blacksmith earlier.” She tilted her head. “Tell me, Whitethorn, apart from fictional dragons, which other fire-wielder creatures do you plan to kill with it?”

“I believe my plans didn’t work out the moment I reached Varese and was dragged here by Galan and Fenrys.”

Aelin’s pulse got even faster. Seriously? Was that really the best he could come up with? “Why would I trust Maeve’s killing dog?”

It was easy to spot Rowan’s nostrils flaring and the way he clenched his jaw. “I like to think I’d spend my time with something more challenging than murdering an attention-seeker little brat.”

“Then what are you here for? Watch me? You know, you must be very important to Her Immortal Majesty if she put you on nurse duty.”

He snarled, “I was not. Sent. By. Maeve.”

Aelin got up from her chair, her eyes wide. “I don’t believe you.”

Rowan rose from his couch too and scoffed at her, “Are you always this paranoid, Princess?”

“So, you come to Terrasen while your aunt has an scheduled visit to Adarlan and expect me to believe you have no hidden agenda?”

Rowan took a deep breath and said in a carefully controlled tone, “I command armies. Strictly. Do you see any troops here? Because she wouldn’t send me as a spy.”

Aelin squinted her eyes at him, trying to recall every detail in their exchange earlier. “Then what is the disaster you have to prevent?”

“Have you met Fenrys?”

Her eyes went wide. “Are you kidding me? He has charmed half the Court already!”

Rowan pinched his nose. “Of course he did.”

Aelin drew herself up to full height and narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t trust you, Whitethorn. And I don’t give a fuck about your relationship with Maeve. As long as you lead her armies and benefit from her government, I’ll be monitoring you.”

She didn’t know who stepped inside the personal space of the other, but they were close. Dangerously so. Their short breaths were mingling as they studied each other’s enraged faces. Aelin took a step back and started to leave, but not without hissing, “Don’t you dare think this conversation is over.” Too bad she couldn’t slam his door.

TAG LIST

@elentiyawhitethorn

@rowanaelinn

@leiawritesstories

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass #my writing #royal rebels #prologue

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