#rowan and lyria
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leiawritesstories · 1 year ago
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Halfway through HOF and got to the part where Rowan tells celaena about his mate lyria and he says they can find there way back together…. Is this the beginning of relationship blooming or would you say it’s more of avarice and the beginning of a friendship??
ahhhhh Heir of Fire 😊 thanks for asking!!
First of all, I'll preface this by saying I've read the whole series more than once and I do not want to spoil anything if you haven't read it all yet! With that said, this answer might not make much sense hahaha because I'm reeeeeallyyy trying not to spoil anything important
Lyria is...an important piece of Rowan's backstory. She was his first love when both of them were young, and what happened to her is something that holds him back from diving headfirst into a new relationship. Plus, he and Celaena aren't exactly best friends at this point in HOF 😅.
When Rowan chooses to tell Celaena about Lyria, it's a sign that he's ready to share that part of himself with another person. Maybe he isn't ready for another full-blown relationship yet, but healing takes time! The fact that he chose to tell Aelin/Celaena about Lyria is definitely a good sign for the two of them, especially since they've been fighting each other for most of the book. It's a sign of trust. I...I can't say whether this is the beginning of a relationship blooming or if it's just friendship because spoilers, but I can confirm this is a good thing.
again, thank you so much for asking!! feel free to send me any more questions, I love these books so much <3
Also, feel free to ask more of the TOG community!! @heirofflowers, @morganofthewildfire, @rowanaelinn, @backtobl4ck, @tomtenadia, @sassyhobbits and many more have such amazing things to say about the series :)
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lucien-calore · 3 months ago
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rowan whitethorn hunted down, tortured and killed the men who killed lyria and their unborn child, then fell into a deep depression and tattooed their story on his body and y'all have the NERVE, the GALL, the AUDACITY to make lyria the VILLAIN in rowaelin fics when she was actually a VICTIM?!?! it doesn't surprise me, as this fandom is extremely misogynistic, but y'all have reached a new low
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feyres-divorce-lawyer · 1 year ago
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slightly, like literally by a millimeter, less irritated by rowan’s tragic backstory because while it’s still a dead woman (and baby) used to garner sympathy for a male, at least lyria had a name (which is an insanely low bar) BUT did bro really leave his FLOWERGIRL of a wife defenseless on a MOUNTAIN??? like yeah yeah maeve sent those men (can’t remember their name) cuz she wanted rowan to become her slave, she evil teehee don’t you get itttttuh, god forbid an sjm prominent female antagonist doesn’t violate someone’s consent in some way, shape, or form. HOWEVER, he was not beholden to the blood oath to go on that war campaign or whatever it was. bro left his WIFE that sells FLOWERS on a MOUNTAIN to chase GLORY??????? everyone’s always like “oh sam and lyria are in the afterlife watching over rowaelin.” bitch no, lyria is cursing that pasty man and his ugly ass face tattoo💀
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shallyne · 1 year ago
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TOG ships as Taylor Swift Lyrics
Rowaelin - So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche? And say, say that we got it I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted // I loved you despite deep fears the world would divide us
Chaolaena - If I’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too // if I’m dead to you why are you at the wake
Doraelin - Sorry that I hurt you, I don't wanna do, I don′t wanna do this to you, I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you
Rowanlyria - I've got a lot to live without, I'm never gonna meet What could've been, would've been, What should've been you
Samlaena - I never thought we'd have a last kiss, I never imagined we'd end like this, Your name, forever the name on my lips
Manorian - Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes What doesn't kill me makes me want you more // he looks up grinning like the devil
Elorcan - Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it, My love, They are the hunters, we are the foxes And we run
Chaorene - This love is difficult, but it's real, Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess
Lysaedion - Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down, Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around 'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile
Nestaq - If you fail to plan, you plan to fail, Strategy sets the scene for the tale, I'm the wind in our free-flowing sails And the liquor in our cocktails
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acourtofquestions · 19 days ago
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Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:
She'd rebuild it—what she had been.
Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.
Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."
"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.
"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."
"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.
Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.
Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.
At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.
In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.
She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.
Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."
A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.
She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."
Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."
"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."
Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.
"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."
"I do know."
"And?"
"And what do you wish me to say?"
She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"
"If what?"
"If you wish it wasn't so."
His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"
She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.
It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.
"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."
She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.
"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."
She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."
"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"
"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."
"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."
"Then it is her choice, not yours."
Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."
"What did she show you?" A breathless question.
Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."
She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."
His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"
She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.
Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."
She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.
"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.
"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."
A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"
"We'll face it together," he swore again.
"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.
Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."
"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."
She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.
"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."
She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.
She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"
"I thought you might want to be asked first."
"That never stopped you before."
"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.
She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."
He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.
"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."
The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.
"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.
Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.
Together.
#Chapter 41#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#Aelin Galathynius#Rowan Whitethorn#Rowaelin#soulmates#mates#spoilers and notes in tags cause this chapter and also spoilers in post cause this chapter first read react with me read along#Rowaelin chapters scenes moments quotes#they want to make it possible bring that love to light#am I allowed to cry? — Again the word endured — finally the dream — the sand she still sees — he’s magic being steady — them talking time#again if Maeve could convince Rowan Lyria was his mate how bad was it when she convinced Aelin her actual mate was dead… this hurts me…#the fact Aelin stopped being useful because it destroyed her beyond belief but the dreams the dreams almost got her because its all she wan#again then both feeling sorry and the other not realizing and then consent and then comfort and love & I just wanted it2be U how could I no#I know you are tired Fireheart (ALL THE TROPES IN ONE LINE… UGH I MISSED THIS SHIP)#together. one soul in two bodies. their endgame like literally they are. I’d choose you too. even the apologies that were needed just heali#what it might have once been — together — not alone — not returning alone — the king and queen of Terrasen — I need u more — 2 whatever end#Aelin watched the boat until it disappeared trying not to stare too long at the clean unstained sand beneath her boots#always north — she didn’t care she just wanted far away — who knew — what she knew-the letters she sent-Valg-dark blood that had turned red#If it had been another dreamscape or some fragment that had blended into the very real memory of Connall's death. — always a plab&theory#all these things to deal with later-she’d rebuild all she had been-her match helper mirror-matched his piercing stare with her own-wait/res#A far cry from a queen's chamber or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin. — how far we’ve come-she had ENDURED she can do it#I'm your mate she said needing to voice it. And you are mine. — Lyria. — I do know. and?&what do you wish me to say?-this was perfect#If what? If you wish it wasn't so. His brows narrowed. Why would I ever wish that? — Aelin. she looked at him at the pain in his words#the way it's changed since Mistward... and grown... even in names like Whitethorn Galathynius together — the brain thoughts are back —#The kiss was gentle-light. Letting her decide how to guide it. So she did. — he’d do it all night if that was what’s he wished#Together we'll find a way their mingling breaths the crashing sea seemed to echo. Together. — mountains and oceans#Might’ve been before-thought snapped-the bond- u r my mate&I am urs-the world might have been burning for all she cared all he cared too#Together they would face this together they would find a way. — claiming him as he claimed her — a scar a marker a tattoo
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athena-85 · 1 year ago
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The curious difference between
Rhysand noticing the mating bond vs.
Lucien noticing the mating bond:
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Rhys knew when she was human.
These quotes are in the same book (ACOWAR)
Ianthe points out that Lucien did not know.
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This makes me think that the bond between Lucien and Elain was created by the cauldron or something else just like Meave created the bond between Lyria and Rowan.
🤔
Also was Ianthe planning this?
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galaxyofstars · 7 months ago
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currently TERRIFIED of sjm pulling a Lyria with Jesminda
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chichikoi · 8 months ago
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I'm so fucking upset I didn't even cry this much for ACOTAR bro and its fucking acotar
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feanoryen · 2 years ago
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Friendly Reminder: If Lyria hadn't died before she gave birth, Rowan would have had a child centuries older than Aelin.
Let that sink in.
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wordsafterhours · 1 year ago
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Songs About You - Chapter 14
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Author's note: About time I got this done. I hope everyone who still likes this fic is around and will take time to enjoy this update. I made myself laugh, which is almost just as good as making someone else laugh.
*don't come for me at the end with pitchforks.*
Word Count: 3.3k
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She was floating somewhere between dreaming and unfortunate consciousness. Seeking to keep hold of sleep, Aelin flopped onto her side, groaning when she hit a dense mass instead of her usual plethora of feather pillows. Cracking a heavy lid, she peered at the lump. Dorian hadn’t moved, his soft snores unwavering. Least one of them was still delightfully asleep and unaware. 
With the last tendrils of grogginess dissipating, a splitting headache became apparent. It felt like the bones were trying to crack apart in areas long knitted together. A dull sense of nausea was also floating around, but she was trying very hard to not acknowledge it, hoping it would sink away. Hangovers were merciless and never worth the night before. 
Fleetfoot wasn’t bothering her, which likely meant it was still early or the dog was sleeping in as well. Whatever the case, Aelin decided more sleep would cure her ailment. Flipping over, she was met with brief surprise, again. Fenrys, a more eloquent sleeper than Dorian, was cuddling her stuffed animal, looking as though he was having the best sleep of his life.
Two attractive men in bed had to be somewhere on everyone’s fantasy list, likely even hers if she gave it enough honest thought. This would likely be a running joke in the days to come, but for now, it was comforting. One old friend, one new, both irreplaceable. After the events of last night, they had driven her home, whispered soft words as she cried, and offered to pummel both Rowan and Elide. It was exactly what she had needed. 
Sinking into the mattress, Aelin closed her eyes, trying to calm her mind enough to fall back to sleep. But it was pointless. Her body was relaxed, the soft linen sheets caressing her skin, attempting to soothe her back to sleep, but her traitorous mind was in hyperdrive. It kept replaying the events of last night over and over, on a high-definition loop. 
The betrayal was a feeling reminiscent of when she was a kid, and her mother would dab antiseptic on her cut. Except now, there was no one to blow on it, the stinging felt painfully in full affect. Rowan, in the days prior had eased it all, and somewhere in the depths of her disappointing sadness, there was a part of her that would fall at his feet, hoping he would do it again. 
Aelin’s body froze momentarily, shocked, as an arm fell across her body, pulling her close. “I can hear you thinking from here and it’s disturbing my slumber,” the sleep-addled voice said against exposed shoulder. 
“We cannot all be unbothered by the world, your highness,” she cheeked back. 
He let out nothing more than noncommittal grunt. She would have thought him back to sleep if not for the occasional lazy circles he was drawing across her skin. This was their friendship, strong and ignorant of proper boundaries. To an outsider, they would appear like a couple, but having tried that once, it was evident friends was the better choice.
“I’m not sure if I should be turned on or jealous at the moment,” tutted Fen, his voice a little huskier than appropriate for morning hours. 
Aelin cracked a lid, her bright eyes connecting with his appraising stare. He looked like the cat who ate the canary, and it made her face scrunch from a widening smile. “You’re just jealous that the stuffed animal doesn’t snuggle back.” 
“Hmm, I don’t think it’s that,” he declared with a low chuckle.
“Aelin, where did you find this mannerless mongrel?” 
“The same place I found you: the bar.” 
“Excuse me, that is not where you found me.” She bit her lip, trying to hold in a laugh. She just knew his face was pinched in indignation. Dorian was known to be quite wanton in his behavior, but it wasn’t a topic of discussion. Everyone just knew and that was that. 
“Is anyone going to invite the dog to snuggle or…?”
“I didn’t see Fleetf—” her remark stilted as a pillow collided with her face.   
“Well, Dorian, you were right, he is a mannerless mongrel.” 
“Fine! I didn’t want to cuddle with you two anyways. Wouldn’t want to give anyone fleas.” 
Aelin let Fenrys roll almost out of bed before reaching out, grabbing his shirt beneath her fingers. “C’mere.” 
The body heat from both men was almost too much to bear and she fought the comforter to stick a foot out for some relief. Contentedly, she relaxed, feeling unexpectedly safe in the current arrangement. She may not have Rowan and her best friend may have slit her heart from her chest, but in her bones, she knew Dorian and Fenrys would never hurt her. Perhaps, if she was less damaged, she’d let the blond seriously pursue her because underneath his cheeky persona, his heart was gold.
“Shhhh, you’re going to wake her up,” a harsh, hushed whisper grated across Aelin’s semi-conscious mind.
“I don’t even know how she’s sleeping through that loud banging.”
“I get the impression she doesn’t often sleep good.” 
“Well, sleep is on the bottom of what’s important right now. If you haven’t noticed, it sounds like someone is making off with half the downstairs!”
“Buck up buttercup and put on your big boy pants. I think two of us can take whoever it is,” Fenrys claimed, sliding from the bed and into his discarded jeans from the night prior. 
“I know we just met and all, but confronting robbers isn’t in my area of expertise. I have a full security team at home.” 
Aelin, who had been listening to this entire exchange, was two seconds from losing all sense of decorum and giving up that she was awake. Dorian sounded so panicked, surely his eyes were the size of saucers, and he was likely clenching her comforter tight. He lived a far more sheltered life than she had, despite also growing up in the public eye.
“Dorian, get up!” 
“You can’t just order me about.”
The bed jostled followed by loud thump. That’s one way to do it, she amusedly thought to herself. Cracking a lid, Aelin could see Fenrys holding out Dorian’s clothes with an annoyed expression. 
Dorian huffed, his face matching Fenrys’, as he took his clothes and started to put them on. His lean arms slipped into his shirt, but he paused, angling his head—clearly he heard something she did not. Fenrys froze, too, his stance stiffening as he stared at her bedroom door. 
Worry hadn’t been present before because if it had been anyone serious downstairs, Fleetfoot would have barked her head off. More than likely, the boys had heard the dog causing chaos downstairs, and not people. But now, doubt was filtering in. 
The bedroom door flew open and before Aelin could even process what was happening, Dorian was running full speed and tackling the intruder, landing outside in the hallway. Fenrys froze in a shock, arm still raised, a heavy book in hand. 
“GET OFF ME!” screeched Manon. 
“Ah gods,” Aelin muttered, immediately springing past Fenrys.
A pant-less Dorian was moving to stand, and Manon was flat of her back, white-blonde hair splayed out on the wooden floor, red faced and angry.
“Hey M,” she supplied coolly, extending an arm to help to help her up. Manon waved her off, too busy staring daggers at Dorian, who looked like he was wishing he could be anywhere but here. 
Aelin could feel Fenrys standing behind her and she leaned into him, enjoying the feel of his warm skin against her shoulders. Truthfully, an angry Manon scared her, and she wasn’t afraid to seek Fernys’ protection against her. 
Manon sat up, her piercing gold eyes roving over each of them, no doubt cataloging details and mustering up ideas. 
“Before you jump to the wrong conclusion, it’s not what it looks like,” Aelin rushed out defensively. 
“So, you didn’t all come out of the same room in various stages of undress? No shirt, no pants, and don’t even get me started on the amount of skin you’re showing.” 
The tips of her ears burned in embarrassment. 
“I swear, it really isn’t what it looks like.” 
“Somehow you saying that just makes it that more unbelievable. Everyone knows how you are.”
“Manon,” Aelin chastised. Dorian may have been a flirt, opportunistic in bedding people, but it didn’t warrant his feelings being stepped on because she someone was angry.
“You act like what I said isn’t true.” 
“That may be, but it isn’t true in this moment. We don’t know one another well, but they’re both being honest when they say nothing is going on. Please don’t make either one feel bad for something that’s strictly innocent in nature.” Fenrys brushed passed Aelin, extending a hand to the woman still laid out on the floor. Manon took it, rising to her feet. No thank you was given and the four stood in silence. 
She wanted to ask what Manon was doing there and why there was an almost musical banging coming from downstairs, but at the same time, she was tired of being talked down to. Self-conscious, she pulled down on her tank top, eliminating the skin showing above her sleep shorts. The pair of golden eyes missed nothing, zeroing in on her movements.
Fenrys noticed, stepping a few paces and giving her shoulder a soft squeeze in reassurance. “Manon, how about we go downstairs and get you some ice.”
“What for?” she sniped. 
“To cool you off.” 
“I’m not hot.”
Regret colored her face the minute she said she wasn’t hot, and Dorian looked too pleased with himself when he followed up with flirty statement declaring otherwise. Manon rolled her eyes and headed back to the first floor, taking the stairs two at a time. 
“Does she eat children for breakfast?” Fen asked with shiver.
“With a side of kittens,” Dorian confirmed, his blue eyes watching the stairs, as though he were waiting for her to rush back up them and give another lashing. 
“I think I’ll get dressed,” Aelin said to no one in particular, ducking back into her bedroom. The two boys followed, each grabbing their missing clothing and shrugging into them. 
“We’ll see you down there, ‘kay,” Dor declared in parting, Fen hot on his heels. 
With a resigned sigh, she flopped back into mussed bed covers, all will to change clothes dissipating. She grabbed the stuffed animal, sitting him on her chest, “Did you enjoy being cuddled by Fen, Mr. Snuggles?” 
She manipulated the bear into nodding, smiling to herself at her antics. “That’s great, me too.” 
“And here I thought I was the only guy that had been in your bed lately.” 
Aelin let out a surprised shriek, throwing the animal at the intruder without a second thought. The attack was easily deflected with an arm wave and Mr. Snuggles fell to the ground with a soft thud. His large, tanned hand scooped him up and tossed him back on the bed, a predatory glint in his eyes and a pleased smirk affixed on his perfect face. 
The embarrassment and anxiety coursing through made it feel like her stomach was in her throat, about to jump ship at any moment, and her lips pressed tighter together as though they could prevent it from happening. Women her age weren’t supposed to sleep with animals, much less talk to them, and now she’d been caught red-handed. How was it this man consistently had the worst timing? 
Maybe if she closed her eyes and pretended he wasn’t there, he’d just poof into thin air, leaving her and Mr. Snuggles to their conversation. Squeezing them shut, she waited, listening intently for his departure, but in didn’t come. Fighting against her better judgement, Aelin kept her lids tightly shut, refusing to give him another ounce of her time. 
Unreliable. Hot. Cold. Friend. Foe. The push and pull dance weighing down an already exhausted soul. It had been pretty clear last night where they stood and why he was here, she had no idea. The “why” bothered her more than his actual presence if she was being truthful. Nonetheless, she dug her heels in, refusing to inquire, refusing to acknowledge. 
A gentle yet firm pressure forced her knees apart. Rough fabric skated across bared flesh, goosebumps raising in response. The bed dipped beneath new weight. The very distinct smell of Rowan wrapped around her.
“Aelin,” he said lowly but in a way meant to command attention.
Childishly, she turned her head to the right, eyes still screwed tightly shut. Her lungs were screaming in protest, fighting for her to release the breath she was unconsciously holding. A traitorous breath whooshed out, the subsequent inhale assaulting her senses again in pine and snow. 
The bed dipped more right and the feeling of rough fabric became more pronounced as he shifted. Featherlight, the unmistakable feel of a calloused finger traced the bridge of her nose, across the light smattering of freckles decorating her high cheekbone, ending with a careful tuck of hair behind her ear.
Still, she didn’t move. He loosed a frustrated breath. 
Fingers threaded throughout her hair, as though he’d done it a million times before, his thumb coming to rest just in front of her ear. “Ace, please,” he begged, just barely more than a whisper. The defeated tone wilted her fortitude. He sounded so desperate and while Aelin shouldn’t care, she did. He sounded like she felt. 
“Why are you here?”
“I won’t tell you unless you look at me.” His thumb skittered across her cheek in a circle, a silent imploration meant to chase away the rest of her resolve.  
“You’re not an any position to be making demands.” 
“No, but I’ll get on my knees and beg if I must. It’s just five minutes of your time and I can leave when I’ve said what I needed to say.” 
Rowan on his knees sent her brain sideways, as she allowed for a momentary glimpse of it under much different circumstances to play out in her mind. But as quick as it had appeared, she pushed it aside, returning her thoughts to the present. 
His eyes were brilliantly green, every color of the Oakwald forest interwoven within their depths, but they stood out more than usual because the dark circles beneath his eyes. Rowan looked the roughest she’d ever seen him. Handsome, painstakingly so, but tired, sad, and something she couldn’t place. His silver hair, usually plaited and put up, was messily loose, like the day she’d seen it when he was cutting wood. 
Dropping his hand from her face, he shifted, resuming likely what had been his initial position: a hand on either side of her shoulders, one leg resting against the bed between her knees. Unable to resist the urge, she raised her hand, gently brushing against his side to grab a piece of silver that had fallen forward. She swore he shivered but it had been such a quick response, it could have been entirely imagined. 
Idly, she twirled the lock with her finger, waiting for him to divulge the reason for his forced presence. 
“Lyria’s pregnant.”
A million and one reasons could have come out of his mouth, but Aelin would have never thought that’d be the one. The feeling you get from dropping great heights on amusement rides could not compare to how she felt in the moments following his admission. 
Space. She needed space. Breaking out of his embrace, she was on her feet halfway across the bedroom before turning to face him. His eyes looked glassy, his proud shoulders rounded and sagging in defeat. 
“How long have you known?” Aelin wasn’t sure why she asked. In her bones she already knew the answer. 
“After I left here that morning. Lyria was waiting for me in the driveway of my house.” 
Life was cruel. Or the gods were. Had she wronged the world so in her past life and was thusly being punished in this one?  He had become a bright spot in her life and now, reduced to another pile of ash. Hiding her anger, she turned and stared into the empty fireplace, a too literal example of how it all felt. 
“Say something.”
“What do you want me to say, Rowan? That I understand why you stopped answering my texts and made me feel like I wasn’t worth your time? That I understand you’re doing the best you can?” She clenched her fists and turned back to look at him, face red, lip quivering with emotion. “Because I don’t. I feel hurt and let down. Gods I’m so furious with you.” Her voice cracked and it only made her more mad at this entire situation. 
“I’m sorry. I’ve spent weeks trying to decide how to tell you that I can’t be here for you like I promised. I want to be right here Aelin, and I just….,” he raked his hands through his hair, messing it further, “I have to be there for her and for my child. I won’t be someone who shirks their duty because it’s not convenient for me.” 
“What about me?” she hated how small and pitiful she sounded. Selfish even. But she had to ask it. Where did she fall in this fucked up situation? 
Somehow, in two strides, he had crossed the room and was holding her in a vice grip to his chest. “I won’t give you up.” 
“You just said you can’t be here because you have to be there. I don’t understand.” 
“It’s been hell, but I was respecting the boundary Lyria set as my girlfriend and mother of my child, but then last night, when I got a glimpse of how it felt to not have you at all… watching you crumple because of me, that’s worse than anything I’ve had to deal with since losing my parents."
Rowan’s strong arms held her tighter as he continued, “I can’t be here like I promised, like I want to, but I still want you in my life, Aelin. You’re my friend and you’re about to go through a very hard time. I won’t desert you when you need people on and by your side.” His assertion rumbled against her, putting to bed some of the crippling sadness he had descended on her only moments ago. 
Ever a glutton for punishment, Aelin squirmed in his grasp, until her arms were free to wrap around him. She splayed her hands against his back, enjoying the feel of his strong muscles ripple beneath them. Rowan rested his cheek on the top of her head, neither ready to break the contented silence they found themselves in. 
The pair stayed like that for some time before Rowan made to step back but was quickly stopped when the blonde let out a warning huff. His chuckled bounced her head albeit not in an uncomfortable way. “I was going to show you your surprise, but I guess not.” 
Aelin tipped her head back to look at him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. 
“I think I’ve had all the surprise that I can handle for today,” she fired off, still looking up at him. 
He smiled, one that reached his eyes, as he lightly thumped her nose. “You’ll like this one, Ace.” 
“If it’s not a hazelnut chocolate cake from Emrhys’, I don’t want it.” 
“Gods woman, it’s amazing you don’t weight 300 pounds with all the sweets you devour,” he teased. 
“I have a great figure, thank you very much.” 
“I’m not going to touch that statement with a ten-foot poll.”
“You sure?” she asked suggestively, giving him a once over with a raised brow. 
“I’m leaving, see you downstairs,” he said hurriedly retreating for the door.
Not even waiting to see if he had left the room completely, Aelin chanced it and slipped her sleep cami over her head. A choking sound covered by a cough and subsequent slamming door let her know he’d seen something and that warmed her with satisfaction. If she couldn’t have him, at least she could bother him, and that would have to do for now. 
---------------------------------------------------------------------
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leiawritesstories · 2 years ago
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can you do a lyria is alive but shes a bit snobbish because she came back from the dead and its rowaelin forever?
yes indeed i can :)) *giggles wickedly* thanks for the prompt!!
Word count: 1,547
Warnings: language, Lyria
enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lyria Frelau hadn't experienced much in her few brief decades of life--until she met the famed Fae prince and warrior Rowan Whitethorn and, like the inexperienced teenager she was, fell head over heels in love. She was just over thirty years old, still a youth by Fae standards, and she hadn't been able to believe in the reality of Prince Rowan Whitethorn being...hers.
For all too short a time.
She remembered the nausea of early pregnancy, something completely unexpected but certainly not unwelcome, remembered the giddiness of planning to surprise Rowan when he returned from his latest battlefield assignment. She remembered how shocked she'd felt to realize that she was the mother-to-be of the next great Whitethorn warrior. That little fact gave her no small amount of pride, it did.
She hadn't been expecting the raid that razed her village to the ground, though. Damned bloodthirsty males!
From the hazy, amorphous realm in between life and afterlife, Lyria had watched Rowan Whitethorn, the male who ought to be hers, grieve for what she firmly believed was far too short a time before closing himself off. She watched him turn into a male as icy as his magic, and she felt greatly satisfied at that. After all, he was hers. Nobody else should be able to see his smile.
Then he met a half-Fae female who had wildfire powers, whose wildfire melted his ice, who told him she was his carranam and later, his mate.
Lyria wished to all the dead gods that she was alive, so she could scream at that unfairly beautiful blonde who'd stolen her Rowan until her ears bled.
She really hadn't been expecting to actually come back to life.
~
Disoriented, Lyria shook her head, shook her arms and legs, patted herself and pinched herself and hissed when the pinch felt very real indeed. So she was alive, then. Strange. Next order of business--sail over to Terra Sand or whatever the hell that blonde female's kingdom was called and get her Rowan back where he belonged.
Sneaking onto the ship was easy enough; all it took was a few winks and giggles and a scandalously low neckline before the idiot sailors were tripping all over themselves to let her onboard.
And if she...entertained a few of them at night during the voyage, well, what was a little bit of extra money between friends?
Lyria landed in Orynth a few weeks after she'd mysteriously been reincarnated and promptly marched down the streets towards the grand stone palace. She had a prince to take back, she did. Approaching the palace gates, she squared her shoulders and marched in through the tall, elegantly wrought bronze gates, ignoring the human guards who kept watch over the citizens and tourists entering the palace grounds. She kept her back ramrod straight and her eyes forward, grinning with increasing anticipation the closer she walked to the palace.
Gods, she couldn't wait to see the look on her Rowan's face when she reappeared.
She ignored the guard who shot her a quizzical look as she strode into the palace, her ancient boots creaking against the gleaming new marble floors.
"Ma'am?" Dammit, the guard was a persistent one.
"You needn't worry, guard," she assured him in lofty tones. "I merely come to reclaim my prince."
"Your prince?" The poor guard obviously had no idea who she was.
So she took pity on the poor boy. "I am Lyria Frelau, beloved of Prince Rowan Whitethorn. I have come to bring him back to our home."
The guard cleared his throat. "Ma'am, you do know that His Highness is married to the queen of Terrasen, no?"
"A situation which will swiftly be remedied," Lyria proclaimed, waving away the stupid guard's protests. "And if you must insist upon remaining at my side, do be a good man and present me in the throne room. I believe I shall make a proper entrance."
The guard mumbled something indistinct under his breath. "Very well, ma'am, I shall take you to the throne room." He tipped his head at a passing guardsman, who hurried off down the hall. "I've sent him to warn the queen and king of your presence."
"Warn?" Lyria giggled. "Such a silly word, good guard. I am only here to restore things to the proper order."
As if in mockery of her words, her traitorous boots chose that moment to split apart, the ancient leather giving way to the centuries it had spent buried underground. She huffed and strode onward, ignoring her now-bare feet. Wisely, the guard said nothing.
In moments, she reached a set of imposing oaken doors carved with intricate symbols and etchings, each door bearing the royal crest of Terrasen in gold and emerald.
How tacky.
Lyria cleared her throat imperiously, and the guard pushed open one of the great oak doors.
"A...erm, a Miss--"
Impatient, Lyria pushed past the useless man, striding into the huge, open, light-filled throne room. Her eyes immediately latched onto the dearly familiar male standing on the dais, his silver hair far shorter than it had been two hundred and fifty years ago, tattoos now marking his tan skin. "My dearest Rowan!" she squealed, giddy with delight at seeing his handsome face again.
Rowan, for his part, looked properly astounded. "Lyria?"
The female sitting--no, lounging--in the throne raised her golden blonde brows. "This is your Lyria, Ro?"
Ro. The nickname grated on Lyria's recently-resurrected nerves. "His name is Rowan," she scoffed, "and he does not enjoy being called anything else. Furthermore, who are you to address him in such a familiar manner?"
"His wife, mate, carranam, and queen," the female smirked. "Queen Aelin Whitethorn Galathynius."
Lyria scowled. "I regret to inform you that your mating and marriage is a ruse, because Rowan Whitethorn is my mate."
Aelin laughed. Burning hell, she actually laughed. "Ro, my love, would you like to respond? This should be amusing."
"Amusing for you, maybe," Rowan mumbled. He cleared his throat. "How in all hell are you here, Lyria?"
She beamed at him. "Though I confess I know not how, I have been reanimated!"
On her throne, Aelin snorted, her shoulders shaking with repressed laughter. She flicked a sly glance at Rowan, who shot her an equally mirthful look in return.
Lyria's blood boiled at the sight. "I am not a joke!" she screeched, stomping her bare foot.
"Of course not," Aelin drawled. "I suppose you're here to wheedle Ro back to your sweet side?"
"Precisely," Lyria huffed. "Darling Rowan, I am here again." She fluttered her eyelashes. "And we can return to our cottage by the riverside, just like we planned all those years ago."
"Lyria, I--" Rowan's sentence was interrupted by his wife's cackling.
"Cottage by the riverside?" Aelin wheezed, tears of joy pooling in the corners of her unfairly brilliant eyes. "Please, how is she real?"
"Fireheart," Rowan murmured, clamping his lips together, "I was young and stupid, all right?"
"Mmm, old and stupid is more like it."
He flashed her a playful frown. "By your standards, maybe."
"STOP THAT!" Lyria shrieked, stamping her other foot petulantly. "Come home with me, Rowan, I demand it!"
Calmly, Rowan walked down the dais steps, stood in front of her, and sighed. "I can't do that."
"Of course you can," Lyria snorted. "I am your mate, Rowan."
"No." He shook his head. "That was a sham, a farce Maeve invented to try and trick me away from my life. I do wish she hadn't brought you into her schemes, though; you were too young and innocent to be caught up in that mess."
"A farce?" Lyria gasped. "Nothing is more farcical than you pretending as though I am nothing to you, darling Rowan!" She grabbed his forearm.
Or at least, she tried to grab his forearm. Her suddenly immaterial hands passed right through his body, though.
"Impossible!" she squawked, grasping at Rowan's arms and hands and clothing, all to no avail. "I am real, Rowan, I swear!"
"Mhmm, so real that you're vanishing before our very eyes," Aelin deadpanned.
"No!" Lyria yelped. But indeed, her body was growing more and more weightless by the second, drawn back to whatever afterlife she'd come from.
"Thank you for your little visit," Aelin said sweetly. "It was such a pleasure to briefly meet you, little Lyria."
"I am not little!" Lyria screeched indignantly. "I am Prince Rowan Whitethorn's--" She dissolved into mist before she could finish screaming about who she was, leaving only a breath of cold air to indicate that she'd ever been there.
Aelin lasted all of three seconds before bursting into full-blown laughter, tears of merriment streaming down her cheeks as she guffawed. "Please tell me she was like that when alive, buzzard."
"Unfortunately, yes," Rowan mumbled, his whole face twitching with the effort of restraining his laughter. "She was...young and inexperienced, thinking she was in love. Thinking she had found a mate."
"It's all right to laugh, Ro."
He broke, leaning against her throne as he snorted with laughter. "My gods, she was ridiculous."
"No," Aelin teased, "just a couple centuries out of date." She grinned wickedly. "Expired, as it were."
Rowan gaped.
And then exploded with laughter. "Gods, I love you," he gasped.
Aelin just beamed. "Love you more."
~~~
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separatist-apologist · 2 years ago
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Ok FINE, twist my arm. I will descend with you into the rowaelin era. You reminded me of all the filth we could have had with that nightgown scene.
I just got there and the way they kiss once and then ???????? made me scream like FINE OKAY GUESS I NEED TO WRITE A FIX IT BECAUSE ROWAN HELLO KNOCK KNOCK WHERE IS YOUR [REDACTED] PLEASE SIR IMMORTAL WARRIOR ALWAYS BRAGGING ABOUT BEDDING FEMALES CAN YOU BED THIS ONE TOO??
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shallyne · 9 months ago
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HOFAS SPOILERS
I bet Lyrias name just got changed a little over the years and rowaelin named their kids Sam and Lyria and Lyria is the person Lidia was named after
They do sound a little similar
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acourtofquestions · 4 months ago
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“Electric Touch” is SO Rowaelin coded
I’ve got my money on things going badly, Got a history of stories ending sadly — Sam & Lyria + “the people you love are just weapons that will be used against you”
Still hoping that the fire won't burn me… just. one. time. — AELIN + Rowan quote: “Remind me to prove you wrong about every thought that just went through your head.”
I've been left in the rain lost and pining — brooding Rowan — I'm tryin' hard not to look like I'm trying — he had given up in Mistward before her — 'Cause every time I tried hard for love, it fell apart.
I've gotten used to no one callin' my phone. I've grown accustomed to sleepin' alone. — Rowan & Aelin’s huge fight over her feeling abandoned and him being afraid to have anyone care or to answer to.
All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life — them healing together, choosing to pull punches so the other does break, slowly piecing themselves together (literally TOGETHER) — Got a feelin' your electric touch — Rowan has lightening powers ;-) — could fill this ghost town up with life. — “You make me want to live Rowan. Not survive, not exist, live.”
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starlightjasminsblog · 5 months ago
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WHY DID YOU REMIND ME OF ROWAN AND LYRIA??
In that second where Feyre and Nyx were dead, Rhysand felt what Rowan did standing over Lyria.
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theladyofbloodshed · 2 months ago
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I’m going to be a little controversial under the cut
Sjm meeting her husband on her first day of college and only loving one man since she was 18 is very evident in her writing. I don’t meant to say it’s a bad thing to only have one relationship, but she writes all previous relationships of her characters as meaningless compared to the current one.
Any previous crushes/relationships of her characters were shallow. Whilst they may have felt like something at the time, in hindsight they pale in comparison to the Great Love. Or she writes them as being wrong, wrong, wrong and has to tarnish it in some way to make the Great Love seem better.
Rowan wanted to marry Lyria and was expecting a child with her then sjm retconned it to be a false bond to manipulate him and has Aelin be the much greater love, disregarding the past. He loved her so much he was going to have a baby with her.
Sam becomes just a memory of a teenage crush because he can’t compare to Rowan for Aelin as they’re mates.
Sorcha is just a servant who Dorian had fleeting feelings for despite her losing her head for getting close to the prince when he was lonely.
Isaac Hale is just a boring tumble in the hay - and not the boy who Feyre shared her worries with and he cared enough to buy the contraceptive tea because she couldn’t afford it.
Tamlin was a walking red flag and Rhys can love her so much better despite the months they spent together happy and falling in love.
Graysen and his father swap roles so the former can bash Elain and treat her cruelly while even his father looks shocked.
Jesminda is murdered but she was just a lesser fae and clearly will matter less to Lucien than his mate.
Shahar gave Hunt an opportunity to be something great then its revealed she just used him for his power and didn’t love him to the same depth - not in the way Bryce can.
It is so odd that she cannot write a couple who realise that they’re not each other’s endgame. She could have written that Feyre and Tamlin struggled greatly after the war and realised that the curse had forced them together but their romance dried up, no hard feelings.
Rowan could have been Lyria’s mate and still loved Aelin just as much 200 years later. Graysen could have said to Elain that he loved her still but could not be a fae rather than insult her.
People can love many times in their life. Just because they don’t end up together forever, it doesn’t mean a relationship didn’t matter.
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