#take me back to darrow

[acearchivist359]

lysanders pov <<<<<<<<<<

[wellwhatnowlove]

Lyria being referred to as a “member of the horn gang” and then subsequently an “agent” of the sovereign when she 100% was never in a gang nor sent on a mission by Virginia will send me every time.

The way people refer to her like she’s so menacing and official.. then you meet her and she’s just like “listen idk how I got here I’m just as confused as you are.”

[bellaskelle]

brb on my way to fight pierce brown

[artbyblastweave]

Happy New Year! Looking for comic recommendations, which are your favorites? Genre doesn't matter very much, I was raised on the original run of Amazing Spider-Man

Happy new year! Some fun ones from the last couple years-

Rock Candy Mountain by Kyle Starks and Chris Schweizer- Fantasy-americana post-WW2 madcap about an unbeatable hobo on a quest to find the titular Big Rock Candy Mountain, and the washed-up screenwriter he drags along for the ride. Two volumes.

We Only Find Them When They're Dead by Al Ewing and Simone Di Meo- space opera about mining crews who work harvesting tissues from dead galactus-like entities. Unlike most of these it was an ongoing I haven't caught up with and thus the only one I can't vouch to have stuck the landing. Great imagery though. Galactus Whalefall

Dead Body Road by Justin Jordan and Matteo Scalera- Elmore Leonard/Donald Westlake inspired crime-revenge-rampage/maguffin hunt thing. Actually anything Justin Jordan writes but I took some effort to prevent this entire list becoming Kyle Starks and Justin Jordan books 20th Century Men by Deniz Camp and Stipan Moran- Alternate history where the USA and USSR deploy nationalized superhumans to Afghanistan during the 1980s.

Daybreak by Brian Ralph. Zombie apocalypse story with the gimmick of being told entirely from a first-person perspective.

Frontiersman by Patrick Kindlon and Marco Ferrari- a 60-something Green-Arrow analogous superhero who's gone bush is coaxed out of hiding by environmentalists to do a tree sit protest, only for all hell to break loose as all the superhuman contacts he left hanging track him down to settle their accounts. He Will Not Leave The Tree. This was supposed to be an ongoing but I think it only managed one volume.

Hard Boiled by Frank Miller and Geoff Darrow- Gonzo retrofuturistic self-parody of Miller's usual fare, about a hard-as-nails guntoting unstoppable IRS agent whose choppy Noir narration reads like a stroke-in-progress. Rife with Miller's typical derangements about women, and carried in many respects by the visual buffet of Darrow's interiors, it nonetheless convinced me that All-Star Batman and Robin might have been written that way as a deliberate gag instead of out of a complete lack of self-awareness.

Ultimate Spider-Man by Bendis and Bagley- the progenitor of the original Ultimate Marvel Line, and also the progenitor of the Bendisian house style that would eventually eat the rest of Marvel's output for the 2000s and 2010s due to how popular it was. I got about 110 issues in until I got wrenched away from it by life developments a couple months back, but throughout that run it cemented itself as basically the cohesive take on Spider-Man for me.

[theoraclenextdoor]

pick-a-picture: what divine blessings are on their way to you? a case of the mondays, rainy day edition

all pictures are from pinterest, dividers from @/roseschoices

pile one -> pile two -> pile three

rainy days happen. it’s okay if you need a reminder outside of yourself every now and then. take a deep breath, keep an open mind and ask your guides what divine blessings are on their way to you. and above all, be kind to yourself.

©️2023-2024. cancersstellium. all rights reserved.

p i l e o n e the hanged man, five of elixirs rx, the moon rx (four of rods) pile one, on its way to you is an end to this period of reflection and melancholy. for a while, things seemed kind of dim and despite the bad feelings and confusion, you weathered this challenge with grace. this divine blessing of celebration and ease is meant for you to get caught up in. it’s a well deserved reward that you are meant to seize with both hands. this will show itself in your home life or whatever makes you feel the most stable. you’re not meant to forget what you’ve endured but rather come back to this moment, with a new lens when it feels aligning.

shufflemancy: watch me work//andrew rannells, briana mazzola

(you gotta work, you gotta work, you gotta work. watch me work)

p i l e t w o (queen of rods, nine of blades, four of elixirs) pile two, although it can sometimes feel like more of a burden, you are about to experience the need for new circumstances or a desire for change. this is truly a divine blessing. there is something in your life that is not conducive to the reality that you are trying to create for yourself and it is about to reveal itself in a way that you cannot ignore. along with this blessing of clarity you are going to be blessed with the energy, confidence, and courage needed to push this thing out of your life. some of you reading this already know what this is, and for some, i’m getting that it is a person. but for those of you who don’t know, keep an open mind. be sure to also practice gratitude for what you do have, as this does come with the potential for ingratitude and over-evaluation.

shufflemancy: surface pressure // jessica darrow

(give it to your sister, your sister’s stronger)

p i l e t h r e e (strength, queen of coins, the emperor) pile three, you are unbreakable and are being divinely gifted with the ability to bring your creative ideas to fruition for a time. before reading this, you’ll likely have already felt this energy arising. your manifestations are receiving a boost in this period. if you had the ability to remove every negative thing from your life, what would you cut out? what would dream up if you knew it could be yours? journal it, speak it aloud and act as if you know it’s on the way because this is your confirmation that it is. throughout the week, looks for signs that support what i’m tell you and log them. question nothing and leave doubt behind.

shufflemancy: the king’s affirmation//iniko

(i’m not new here. reborn creation)

[insignificant457]

Pierce Brown Light Bringer Q&A

I went to pierces book signing tonight and I will attempt to regurgitate everything I can remember since I didn’t take notes

When asked if there’s any characters he regrets killing off, he said Trigg. But he also said he has a different answer every time someone asks that

He talked about how he writes two different types of deaths—deaths that feel like the end of an arc, and deaths that feel like they cut off in the middle. He said the latter are more like life, and that’s why they hurt more, and why he’s more likely to regret killing them. Trigg is one of these, as is Fitchner

Speaking of Trigg, his aborted arc factored into the decision to add ephraim as a pov character—it allowed him to explore Trigg and his backstory even after he was gone

The other povs in iron gold were specifically chosen because each had a bone to pick with Darrow, and also because he wanted a high, mid, and low color pov

He was complimented multiple times on how he writes female characters, and his response basically boiled down to “I subscribe to the radical idea that women are people”. He said it’s funny that no one ever compliments him on his ability to write complex male characters

Related to the above, both victra and Aja were originally conceived as male characters, but he couldn’t quite make them work until he flipped the gender. He said that after making victra a woman, he immediately knew exactly who she was and she became incredibly easy to write

Speaking of victra (she got a lot of love, as she deserves), someone asked for a random fact about her, and he said she plays Karachi, which is a gambling game, but she doesn’t want anyone to know because she doesn’t want people to think she’s reckless. Everyone knows.

When asked how he feels about Lysander, pierce said “he’s doing his job,” both in universe and as a vehicle for the story. He also said this was always the path he’d imagined for Lysander

Some of his favorite lines are “do not fear for me, pity them” and “worthy”

He called Darrow a drama queen, and said that he often talks out loud while writing, and darrows internal monologues get weird reactions from friends who overhear (“who’s the motherfucking consequence?!?”)

Darrows experience in light bringer (in particular his reading of the path to the vale) was very much inspired by pierces own struggle trying to write light bringer. He said they both had to learn that the right path is not always forward, sometimes you have to go back

Light bringer was by far the hardest book for him to write (he said “if you ever want to know what the hardest book for an author to write was, just look at how long it took to do it) but he said it’s also possibly his favorite

When asked if any characters or relationships surprised him, he said yes absolutely. Sevro was apparently supposed to be a tertiary character, but basically hopped off the page, and victra was another surprise. He also said (light bringer spoilers) the relationship between Cassius and Lyria was also a huge surprise, but he realized on writing their first interaction that they would absolutely love each other

He also said that the snark between Darrow Cassius and sevro just flowed really easily, and that Darrow and Cassius understand each other, but that Cassius simply Does Not Get sevro

When asked about bringing the jackal back as a clone, he said it was an effort to explore cloning in a way that, in his opinion, has not been done particularly well in many other media. He also said it came about because there was more to explore with virginias relationship with her brother

Tongueless was a hat of death kill, but he told us the original backstory he had planned for him. Apparently tongueless was a high up leader of the syndicate, who was deposed by Lilath when she came in and instigated a coup

He said he tries to write using “South Park writing rules”, meaning instead of saying x and y and z happen, he always uses x happens but y happens or y happens therefore z happens. He said this helps keep things from feeling predictable or trite

When asked what he hopes people take away from the series, he said he doesn’t want to say, because he fears that would be showing his hand for red god. But he did say that what he hopes people take away from light bringer is the same thing darrow tells sevro in morning star “we keep looking for the light, but we’re it”

And lastly, in the signing line, I asked him when sevro found out his father was ares, and he told me it was “probably around the same time darrow found out”, and said a lot of that is because sevro had spent a long time hating his father, because he could always sense he was being shut out. He mentioned that children can tell when there are walls there, and it can actually have a very damaging impact on their mental stability (mental instability? I said. sevro? Never.) anyway rip to my sevro joined the sons pre series theory, you will be missed, but it’s nice to have an answer thanks Pierce

Anyway it was a very fun time, if I remember more later I will add it

[throneofsapphics]

have your little girlfriend

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: “You look so pretty with that blush. I wonder how far-” 

“Not here.” Y/n interrupted, placing a finger to her lips. Aelin nipped at it with her canines, but kept her mouth shut. 

Word Count: ~3.4k

Warnings: mostly smut, slightly dark Aelin, possessiveness, light d/s dynamics, minors dni please!

series masterlist

Aelin took off a few hours early, Rowan staying behind to finish up negotiations with Darrow and the rest of the council. He could manage an afternoon with them, she’d reasoned. Besides, she’d barely seen her girlfriend in the last few months, all of them being busy. Y/n was making preparations for Yulemas, stocking up on the crafts and chocolates she’d make for her market stall. Aelin still doesn’t get how people will brave the markets in the middle of Terrasen winters, but Y/n is out there every Saturday, without fail. And every Saturday she can, she goes to visit and pretends to be a stranger inspecting the wares. 

Hopefully she timed it right, in theory she’d arrive just before closing. Her cloak pulled tight around her, she took to the streets. The day is milder than usual, just a chilly breeze flowing through. 

Y/n was distracted, speaking with someone at the far end of her table, and Aelin snuck around to the other side, picking up a small box of chocolates and pretending to examine them. One of the sellers - Edde - on the other side caught her gaze, giving her a small grin. They were used to her antics by now. 

“How much for these?” She asked, after the person had walked away. Y/n’s face lit up, her nose red and cheeks red from the cold. 

“For you?” She took the box from her hands, squinting at it. “Three silvers.” 

Aelin pretended to look outraged, “That’s robbery.” She narrowed her eyes, fighting the smile that crept on her face. 

“If you can’t afford them,” Y/n moved the box to the side. “Just say so,” She shrugged. 

Aelin rolled her eyes. “What about this?” She asked, picking up a small ornament. A delicately carved wooden snowflake, painted white with small blue swirls. She ran her fingers over it - all completely smooth, not a rough edge on it. She noticed the rest of the table was nearly all bare - y/n must’ve had a busy day, although she’s not surprised.  

“Free, for you.” 

“A snowflake, but not chocolates?” Aelin pouted as Y/n leaned her hip against the table. 

“If you don’t want it..” she began, reaching her hand out, palm up. 

Aelin snatched it back, sliding it into her pocket. “No, I’ll keep it.” Still, she tossed a few silver coins on the table, which Y/n picked up, and shoved back at her. That fight again. They did this little dance every time. A few silvers seemed to bounce between them. If she didn’t take them back, they’d show up in her pocket, on her desk, in a drawer; anywhere she could find them. And places y/n hadn’t been. Sometimes she wondered if she bribed Fenrys or Aedion to return them. 

She pushed the open hand away, and Y/n huffed, handing her a box of chocolates instead. Those, she accepted without complaint and started eating as Y/n began packing up for the rest of the day. Chocolate and Hazelnut. Aelin fought the urge to moan loudly. The market had begun to empty around them but a few other seller’s remained, all packing things up. 

“All set.” Y/n announced, dusting her hands off. Everything was loaded onto a small cart with a handle. “Can I expect a shadow on my way home?” 

“Of course,” she answered - the words muffled by the chocolate in her mouth. “Are you going to let me help this time?” 

“No.” 

“It was one time.” Just once, Aelin had knocked the entire cart over, boxes of chocolates spilling into the dirt. Y/n had laughed it off, but never let her help again. That included loading any merchandise. Rowan could help, but Aelin? As soon as she got close to it, her hands were swatted away. 

Y/n leaned over the table, licking her thumb before brushing it over the corner of Aelin’s mouth. “You had something there.” Quicker than the other female could react, Aelin caught her hand, sucking her thumb into her mouth. 

Her eyes widened, cheeks flushing. “There’s still people.” She hissed, looking around furtively.

“Just cleaning up,” she released her finger with a smirk. “You look so pretty with that blush. I wonder how far-” 

“Not here.” Y/n interrupted, placing a finger to her lips. Aelin nipped at it with her canines, but kept her mouth shut. 

-

Aelin played the long game. She knew she wanted Y/n as soon as she saw her, and brought Rowan in on it as well. He was amused by the entire thing, and told her to ‘have her little girlfriend,’ even though he enjoyed her presence as well. And watching the two of them occasionally. Maybe it made her a bit possessive, but any time Rowan was around her, she was there as well. Any time he touched her, Aelin was directing the show, speaking into his mind. She had a feeling Rowan liked being told what to do sometimes. 

Y/n, on the other hand, completely submitted to her. For the most part. She’d melt under her touch, blush at any little thing Aelin did to tease her, and look at her with adoring eyes that made her heart flutter.

She remembers vividly the first time she got to touch her in all of the ways she’d dreamed about. 

-

She whimpered under Aelin’s touch, her head propped up on a pillow while Aelin sucked gently at her nipple. 

She glanced nervously at Rowan in the corner, but before she could catch any reaction from him, Aelin’s fingers gripped her chin and turned her focus back to her. 

��Look at me. Not him.” She said in a low voice, her hand drifted to the back of her head, twining her hair between her fingers before pressing her lips against hers. Her grip tightened, and Y/n’s let out a soft moan, lips parting slightly to let Aelin bite her bottom lip.  It was like everything went silent – the rest of the world drowned out. All Y/n could feel was her soft lips and the gentle pressure of her chest and body melting into hers. Her hands stroked Aelin’s shoulders, trailing down her back with light and gentle touches. When she got the chance, she nipped at Aelin’s bottom lip. Her hand immediately moved from the back of her head to her neck, squeezing gently. 

Y/n’s core throbbed and her heart rate went up. She could feel the smirk on the Queen’s face, and saw it when she moved to straddle her legs. 

She tried to sit up, but Aelin clicked her tongue and pushed her shoulders back down, one hand grabbing both of her wrists before pinning them above her head. “Can you keep them there, or will I have to tie them to the headboard?” 

She shook her head. 

“Words,” Aelin purred, flicking her nipple. 

“I can keep them there.” Y/n breathed, whimpering slightly from the touch. 

“How good.” Rowan spoke for the first time. “I wonder how long that will last.” 

Y/n looked back and forth rapidly between him and Aelin. “Rowan.” She said, her voice a warning, “eyes on me, sweet thing.” Her thumb dragged across her cheek before she pressed her fingertips against y/n’s mouth. Her lips parted, and Aelin’s fingers pushed her. Y/n’s tongue swirled around them, tasting the faint hint of chocolate from earlier. 

Aelin’s breaths grew heavier, her eyes glazed with lust, but she kept leaving feather light strokes on her body, never touching exactly where she knew the female wanted. 

“So sensitive,” she teased when Y/n keened into her, her nails dragging down her front, skirting her breasts. 

-

Aelin watched as her control slipped, her hands shifting, fighting the urge to reach down and touch her. 

Finally, she caved and her hands moved, reaching down to touch Aelin, but before she could reach her - Rowan was there, one of his hands snatching both of hers and pulling them back above her body. 

“I believe she told you to keep them above your head, are you not capable of listening?” His voice was a low growl as his lips lowered to brush over her ear. 

“I’m sure it was an accident, wasn’t it darling?” 

She nodded rapidly. 

“Words.” Rowan said this time, his hand squeezing around her wrists. 

Don’t scare her. Aelin said directly to him. He ignored her. 

“It was an accident,” Y/n blurted out, her chest starting to turn red as well. An ice kissed wind wrapped around her wrists as Rowan removed his hand, taking a few steps back to observe again. 

You want her. Don’t you? Aelin purred. 

I’m only making sure she listens. 

Aelin would’ve rolled her eyes if she wasn’t focused on the sight in front of her. Finally, she gently squeezed one of y/n’s nipples twisting slightly and thoroughly enjoying the gasp that left her lips. Desire built in her own stomach as she watched her come undone. 

She gave her no warning as she shifted, pushing one of y/n’s legs up next to her chest and plunged two fingers directly in her. 

“Gods Aelin,” she moaned, head thrown back, but her hands didn’t move an inch - a few words from Rowan had her obeying perfectly, Aelin noted that for later.  

-

One of Aelin’s hands pressed down against her stomach to pin her to the mattress while the other one absolutely destroyed her. “So pretty, falling apart on my fingers, hm?” she teased her. Y/n could only whimper in reply, an orgasm quickly approaching. “Go on,” Aelin coached, “fall apart for me.” And she did - finishing with a loud moan as Aelin continued fucking her through it. 

‘Gods gods gods’ y/n thought, but couldn’t speak as words were lost to her. 

-

“Please, it’s too much.” Y/n managed to say after the third one. Her body writhing, almost shying away from her touch.  

“You can take it,” Aelin demanded, “one more for me, sweet thing,” and she leaned down, digging her canines into the soft skin of y/n’s inner thigh as she screamed, releasing barrelling through her as she clenched tightly around her fingers - tight enough Aelin almost hissed. 

“Such a good girl,” She purred, finally giving her abused cunt a break. “You can move your hands now.”

She did, making grabby motions at Aelin to come up closer to her. 

“Can I touch you, please?” She nearly begged. 

Aelin’s eyes gleamed, “I suppose,’ she drawled and shifted up, lowering herself over y/n’s face and enjoying the surprised look on her face. She got over the surprise quickly, and wrapped her arms around Aelin’s thighs, giving small kitten licks to her clit. 

“You taste how wet I am?” Aelin moaned, “all for you, love.” 

Y/n moaned, letting the vibrations soar through her body before sucking on her clit. It didn’t take long before Aelin was grinding against her face, using y/n’s flattened tongue to bring herself to release. Her hand gripped Y/n’s hair, her thighs squeezing around her head as she rained praises on her. 

Panting heavily, Aelin climbed off, leaning down so she could kiss y/n and taste herself on her mouth. Y/n let out a contented sigh, melting into her. Their bodies glistened as they pressed together, legs tangled up. 

“I hope you didn’t think we were done,” Aelin said, and nudged her chin to Rowan. “He hasn’t gotten to taste your sweet little pussy yet.” Y/n, bless her, whimpered as she glanced towards the brooding Fae male - trembling with restraint, pupils blown wide. “I’m kidding,” Aelin murmured, “he doesn’t get you yet.” The resounding growl rumbling through her mind had Aelin hiding a smile. 

-

Aelin’s streak for voyeurism always put her on edge. A good one, but still on edge. She could feel her heart racing, cheeks flushing bright pink, and something starting to coil in her stomach. She turned away immediately, like the wind might hide her scent. By Aelin’s small laugh, she knows her girlfriend’s already noticed it. 

Girlfriend. That was still new. Well, new for an immortal. Aelin saw her one day, while she and Rowan were walking through the market - nearly everyone gawking at them, and stopped by her stall and bought some chocolates - insisting she pay for them. Y/n had been a stuttering mess, and she seemed amused by it. Then, Aelin started coming every Saturday she was there, having a knack for showing up just before she packed up. Rowan would wait patiently with a vaguely amused expression on his face. They started staying longer and longer, asking her more about herself and her life. After a year, Y/n finally asked Aelin why, one day when Rowan hadn’t come. In the beginning, she found the Queen much less intimidating. 

“You make the best chocolates,” she’d shrugged, with a half smile curving her lips. Y/n knew that was a lie. There were expert chocolatiers in Orynth with decades of experience on her, but she took the compliment anyways and thanked the Queen. 

Once, she’d been sick for a few weeks, and missed three weekends. Aelin had asked around, found out she was ill, and showed up at her home with a get-well basket. One of the sellers told me about it the first weekend she was back, hiding her mouth behind her hand like a gossiping schoolgirl. 

Ever since she showed up at her home, things escalated from there. They’d offer to walk her home. Most of the time it was both of them, but Rowan never came without Aelin. She found herself looking forward to seeing them, and had to fight the small urge of disappointment when they couldn’t make it. There was no way of telling whether or not they’d be there, but she always lingered until the last minute - until she was the only vendor remaining, before packing up to go. She could’ve sworn a white-tailed hawk had followed her home a time or two. 

“Let’s go,” Y/n smiled at where Aelin was still licking her fingers, and held out her hand for the empty box. Aelin ignored it, lacing their fingers together. “I can’t pull this one handed,” she protested weakly, and Aelin switched so her arm would wrap lazily around her shoulders. Warm heat caressed both of them on their way home, keeping her at a comfortable temperature despite the wicked chill outside. They finally made it back to her place to find the one and only Rowan Whitethorn leaning against her doorway. 

“How did I know this is where you’d sneak off to?” He asked Aelin and the Queen leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. He deepened it, one hand burying itself in those golden strands, and Y/n snorted before skirting down the small alleyway towards the shed where she stored everything. She had half a mind to enter through the backdoor and lock the two lovebirds out, but Aelin would only pick the lock. Maybe she would, just to see how long it would take them to notice. Less than five minutes later, her front door clicked open, revealing a glowering Aelin. 

“Leaving us in the cold.” She tutted, sauntering inside. 

Rowan stood by the door, assessing. 

Y/n cocked her head and gave him a once over, “you can come in, your Highness.” She said mildly. His eyes flared, but she turned her back, starting on tea. Rowan had always been reserved around her in comparison to Aelin - who currently had her arms wrapped around her waist, peppering kisses on her neck. She’d asked Aelin why once, 

“Because you’re mine.” She answered with a grin, but pure possession laced her tone. “Mostly mine.” She amended after seeing Y/n’s furrowed brow. 

“What would you do if I told you to get on your knees?” Y/n let out a small yelp, and only Aelin’s quick hands kept the kettle from crashing to the ground. 

“Gods, Aelin.” She groaned. 

“That didn’t answer my question.” She nipped harshly at her ear, drawing a discontented grumble out of her and Aelin’s arms tightened around her. 

“Are you going to make her ask twice?” Rowan demanded from the side. Aelin’s arms were tight enough around her she couldn’t jump again. Y/n rolled her eyes, enjoying the way the male seethed. 

“We’ve both asked you a question now.” Nimble fingers pinched her hip. 

“Ouch.” 

“And you still haven’t answered it.” Aelin’s lips grazed her ear. “What am I going to do about you?” Y/n whimpered. “Should I turn you over to him?” She stiffened, gaze naturally looking towards Rowan - who’s eyes flashed, promising something she’d either hate or love. Maybe both. She scented his arousal, and forced amusement into her eyes, trying to fight down the small bit of fear. 

Aelin’s hand formed a necklace around her throat. “He loves brats like you.” She squeezed gently. An involuntary shiver ran through her body.

“I doubt he’s willing.” Y/n turned her attention back to the stove in front of her. 

-

“I doubt he’s willing.” Complete dismissal. Aelin could feel the tentative restraint holding her mate back begin to snap. 

May I? Rowan’s voice thundered through her head. She’d enjoy watching this. 

Go ahead. Aelin stepped back - noticing Y/n’s body stiffen, she could tell something was off. Sure enough, an ice kiss wind smothered the fire she’d lit under the burner. 

-

“Excuse -” She started to say after the flame extinguished, but her words were cut off by the rough and calloused hand around her throat and the large body pressing into her back, pinning her hips up against the counter uncomfortably. Her throat bobbed against the hand, which only tightened. She froze completely as he nipped at the pulse point on her neck, an uncomfortable combination of fear and arousal flooding through her body. She knew if she said the word, Aelin would make sure everything stopped. But … maybe she didn’t want it to. 

“What was it she asked you?” His hand grew tighter with every second she didn’t answer. 

“She asked what I would do if she told me to get on my knees.” She managed to croak and the hand left her neck. She gasped for breath but his body remained pressed up against hers. 

“And what would you do?” His voice was deceptively light. 

“Consider it.” She shrugged, trying to light the fire again. Faster than she could think, her hands were pinned behind her back and her body bent over the kitchen table. 

“Wrong answer.” 

“Isn’t that up to her?”

Fingers pressed under her chin, lifting her head to see Aelin sprawled in the chair across from her, legs propped up on the table, pupils dilated and a lazy grin on her face. 

“Considering it?” She hummed. “That’s no way to treat your girlfriend.” Y/n pouted and Aelin flicked her nose. 

-

And what would you like me to do? Rowan asked Aelin, well aware she still planned on running the show.

Your choice. That surprised him, and his eyes widened but Aelin grinned like she’d given him a present. She had, in a way. 

“Lucky for you,” he said softly enough she could barely hear, head tilting slightly to try and hear him better. “I put brats in their place.” 

She melted underneath him, body going limp against the table with a small whimper. He looked at Aelin amusedly. That easy? 

Just wait. Her eyes were fixed on Y/n. A foot stomped harshly enough on his insole he grunted, grip loosening ever so slightly - out of surprise, and she wiggled out of his grip, darting around the table to sit in Aelin’s lap instead, arms clutching around her shoulders. Aelin rubbed comforting strokes up and down her back, barely concealing her laughter. 

Y/n’s head turned just enough so he could see the teasing smile on her face. Check. She seemed to say. 

Aelin huffed as he tugged the female out of her arms, throwing her over his shoulder with a small slap to her ass, ignoring how she wiggled and the fists thumping half-heartedly against his back. “Fine.” He grunted. “You can get fucked like a brat instead.” He heard Aelin stand, trailing after them to her bedroom. Checkmate. 

[gh0st2626]

Darrow and Mustang Reunion

 just finished re-reading LB and realized how much I wanted a proper reunion. Since Red God is still probably a year away, I wrote a quick reunion scene. Thought I would share it here. This is supposed to take place after LB somewhere in the beginning of RG.

Darrow-Path Back Home

It had been a few hours since we landed back on Mars. After rendezvousing with the remnants of the Republic Fleets, we had tried to open communications with Mars but the enemy interference along with Mars shields had made that impossible. Sevro and I had taken the Archimedes to sneak back to Mars so we can co-ordinate an assault on Phobos with the remaining ships grounded on Mars. The lack of Lysander's and the Rim's fleet along with our upgraded stealth tech made the endeavor a lot safer than it would have been after the battle of Phobos.

It was the middle of the night by the time we got to Agea, and I have instructed Holiday to wait till tomorrow before announcing our return. Now, I walk alone in the hallways of the Augustus estate towards my wife’s room.

I step into her room silently and slowly close the door behind me. The site of my wife sleeping on her bed causes my breath to catch. How my times have I thought that I would never get this moment again. To hold her in my arms again. Now she lays just a few steps away, and my path has finally led me back to her.

The room is dark, with the only illumination coming from the light sneaking past the curtains at the window and my wife’s data pad on the nightstand. My wife lies at the far edge of the bed with her back towards me. She wears a simple white tunic, with her golden hair spooled behind her.  Not wanting to wake her up I silently slide into her bed before catching site of my wife slowly inching her hand towards a hidden compartment in the nightstand and pulling out a razor. Not wanting to startle her I whisper, “Lo wife”. She stiffens and let's go of the razor she was holding. A tremor goes through her body as I put my arm around her and pull her close. I kiss her on the back of her neck and smell her hair. She turns to me slowly and I see tears in her beautiful golden eyes. She reaches her hand and cups my cheek and then pinches it, as if to make sure that I am real. I stare into her eyes in silence before she kisses me. It is a long but gentle kiss. She holds her lips to mine reluctant to let go till we both run out of breath. She pulls back and I let her catch her breath before I give her a hungry kiss. I pull her to me and start to peel her tunic off. She runs her fingers through my hair, and I finally feel the weight of the worlds slipping off my shoulders. Here, sharing her warmth, I finally know that I am home.   

I wake to the sight to my wife sleeping beside me with her head on my bare chest and her leg coiled around me. We had not gotten any sleep till late in the morning. After our fun, I told her about all that has happened to me these past couple of years and she had told me about all that has happened to her. Though I had known most of it through the data packets and holo-messages that she had sent to me. Hearing it from her now finally pressed upon me the full weight of the hell she had suffered since I left Luna on the damnable night. Hesitant to wake her up, I lightly trace the scars that the mob had given her from her neck to her back, her hips all the way down to her legs. I feel my rage build with each scar that brushes my fingers, but I take a deep breath and let the rage exhale out of me just like the book said. The mob did not deserve this woman. I… do not deserve this woman. But she had made her choice years ago, and back on Mercury I had promised myself that I would be the husband and father that my wife and son deserve. So I will not close myself off to her again.

 My wife stirs and flutters her piercing golden eyes open to peer at me with incandescent love and contentment. She starts as she looks at the light coming in through the window. “What time is it?’ she asks as she reaches for her data pad on the nightstand. “Shit” she curses. "I had a meeting with the praetors two hours ago". I take her data pad out of her hands and message Holliday to cancel all her meetings for the day. “The Sovereign has a day off today”. I say with a smile. “But.." she starts. “Mars has held for months. One more day won’t make a difference”. I say before she can protest. I hesitate “besides…I need my wife with me today”. She looks at me in surprise and then smiles with so much joy that it makes my heart skip a beat.

She gets off the bed and stretches like a cat before heading towards the bathroom. My eyes follow her as she goes. At the bathroom door she looks back over her shoulder with a smirk, catches my eye and winks before heading in and motioning for me to follow.

I wait a few moments before I close my eyes and feel the lingering warmth that my wife left on the bed. I breadth in her scent and remember what Roque had once said to me. “Home isn't where you're from; it's where you find light when all grows dark.” I had not realized that even back then she had been my light in the darkness. Through a decade of war, the hell of Mercury, the prison that was Marcher-1632 and my journey across the solar system, she has been the light that kept me going. So, I get off the bed and follow after her, to follow my path back home.

PS: This is the first fan-fic i have written so don't be too harsh lol. All constructive criticism is welcome.

[thatfoxnamedfinley]

LET'S BURN aka Morning Star thoughts

YOU KNOW HOW WE DO

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT lets GOOoOooooOooooooOOO

Trigg was a gay icon "Stay close. Nut to butts here, dont be shy."

RAGNARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

I cried UGLY TEARS on my drive home from work. The only time I cried during the book. Ragnar talking about how he will build him a house next to his but don't come to the Veil too quickly because it will take him a while to build it. Telling his sister to live for more. Smiling even at the end.

PB, why bro. You have damaged me by doing the following.

1.) Killing Pax (THE ENDING DONT TOUCH ME, WELL GET TO IT)

2.) Killing Pax's archetype replacement

You make me like Pax, you take him away. You make me LOVE Ragnar and you take him away. Ragnar UNDERSTOOD, he understood the Rising and what it all meant more than most and you TOOK HIM AWAYYYYYYY. *Slams fist on table*

Ok ok ok ok also small side note when they crashed and encountered Cassius and Aja (i love to hate this bitch) and Mustang has her bow drawn on Cassius and is like

I WILL PUT YOU DOWN

and in my brain I'm like "nah she wouldn't"

and then she FIRES the shot into Cassius' neck

((the plot armor on this man is actually crazy))

And I had this amazing moment when listening to the audiobook that I got goosies...I imagined the snow around her and her hair blowing around her face and DETERMINATION in her eyes as she fires the shot

I was so PROUD of her

I was like

Sevro and Darrow's fight was awesome. Sweet, even. Talking about how he can see the protectiveness in Darrow's eyes when he was looking at the refugees on Tinos. His head on Darrow's knee. Talking about Eo & Sevro talking about how all he wanted was to cause wrath in the wake of his father's murder. He questions his leadership abilities and doesn't want it. I understand because he was the one that was still looking for Darrow. Saved him from torment and torture. He came back different, broken and defeated. Sad. ANGRY. Then how quickly leadership fell back to Darrow when he was the one that worked during that year that the Rising wavered when everyone thought The Reaper had been killed.

OH OH OH

one of my favorite parts of this book was The Reaper's speech. Because he wasn't Darrow, he was REAPER. He's also dramatic as fuck and I love him. He was standing up there in front of Refugees and I got GOOOOOOSIIESSS bitch when the people were like, reaching out to touch him, I was like THIS SHIT IS CRAZY. He has no branding and he's like

"I STAND BEFORE YOU A MAN UNBOUND" and people are gasping in shit cause he's like the first person in hundreds of years to bear no sigils of color.

"I speak now to Golds, to the Aureate who rule. I have walked your halls, broken your schools, eaten at your tables and suffered your gallows. You tried to kill me. You could not. I know your power. I know your pride. And I have seen how you will fall. For 700 years you have ruled over the dominion of man, and this is all you have given us. It is not enough."

I could see why people wanted to follow him. That speech was fucking EPIC.

Other thoughts. Romulus us gunna be a problem. I also think Lysander is going to have a big role. Idk what but my spidey sense is tingling. After all that trauma he was just TOTALLY OK to talk to the Ash Lord and help get the plan moving...?

Pls dont tell this little boi is about to be Jackal 2.0

OMFG THE JACKAL

BOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII this man is inSANE!

Nuclear warfare because he wasn't getting his way??? Wanting Darrow to kill himself LIVE? DARROWS HAND GETTIGN CHOPPED OFF

BRO I THOUGHT CASSIUS BETRAYED THEM I WAS SO FCKING PISSED. I was like YO CASSIUS IT IS ON FUCKING SITE THE NEXT TIME WE SEE YOU BRO COUNT ON IT COUNT YOUR DAYS

Then I was like oh ok nevermind

All because of that little fucking holocube, the GOAT of GOATS. Showing Cassius' family being disposed of.

I have a few GOATs of this book.

(secret GOAT is Sophocles. i want to give him a jellybean)

1.) Mustang. Firing that arrow and in the discussion with Romulus she was KEY.

2.) The defiant Pink that opened the bay on the Moonbreaker. Shaking but defiant, angry at her overlords. Amazing moment.

3.) Victra. Her moment when she saw Darrow having to make a hard decision and blowing the stuff on Ganymede to cripple Romulus and The Rim. "Share some of the load, darling. This is on me." What a fucking GOAT.

4.) Sevro. CRUCIAL to taking Aja down. That shit was 3 v 1 and they would NOT have won without him. Him low to the ground moving like an animal smirking like "YOURE GUNNA DIEEE TODAY BITCH" im like

Because Aja was such a THREAT bro. I was so NERVOUS someone was going to die and they almost did!

OH OH OH (im so sorry i was up all night until like 9am finishing the audiobook so Im kind of delirious) Darrow rushing Octavia on LIVE TV and going like *shink shink shink shink shink shink shink* in her stomach with his teeth bared and I'm like YAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS BITCCHHHHHH

Finally, I was oddly, ODDLY uderstanding of why Mustand kept baby Pax a secret. For a split second I was like "WOAH WAIT WTF-" But then I was like ".....Yeah, no that makes sense." She understood what Darrow wanted but wasn't sure if the Rising would be like the genecide of Golds, her people. So she wasn't sure she couldt rust him. I get it. Nodding in understanding. Valid. She wanted to see if he was capable of BUILDING. She knows he can destroy. But can he follow up the revolution by actually building a better future.

Now she knows he can, and he has a BABBBBYYYY

I do know there is a massive time jump in the next book and multiple POVs. I'm nervous but ready.

*Random side side note

Sevro and Victra came out of nowhere for me and was something I didn't get at all

*side side side note

The Telemanus' are also GOATs

Kavax and Daxo are babies

*side side side side note, one of my other favorite moments was before they drilled with their clawdrills intot he Moonbreaker and Darrow says

"Drills hot. Helmets up. LET'S BURN." GOOOOSSSIESS

audiobook narrator performance was FANTASTIC

[critter-rarepair-reccs]

Happy Thursday, friends! Apologies for the delay on this week's recommendations, but we now have seven different oneshots for you all! As always, you can find them below the cut and if you check any of them out, I encourage you to leave kudoes and comments to spread the rarepair love 💕

before the salt burns your eyes and you run out of time - by JuniperGrace (2,035 words, General) Pairing: Kima/Allura Vysoren (Kimallura) Warnings: Nightmares, Drowning

Allura has a nightmare after she and Kima almost drowned post-Raishan battle. Kima comforts her.

Reccer Says: The author in general writes some of my favorite KimAllura fics. This one in particular, I really like how they write the dream and Kima and Allura's relationship just feels so natural.

A Completely Normal Vacation by Luddleston (10,586 words, Explicit) Pairing: Kingsley Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast (Widoking) Warnings: None

Jester gets to pick the next location for the Nein to have a get-together and chooses a high-end sex club in Rosohna. Left alone as the couples pair off for the evening, Caleb and Kingsley end up exploring things together.

Reccer Says: It's deliciously sexy, a very fun and silly premise, and overall just a great exploration into a dynamic between Kingsley and Caleb and the two of them exploring sex together!

(watch me) dissolve by embraidery (3,617 words, Mature) Pairing: Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf (Fjolly) Warnings: None

Fjord accepts Molly's offer to help him bathe after a tough battle, and then takes him up on another (unspoken) offer.

Reccer Says: I'm always a sucker for a bathing and hair washing fic and this is such a sweet exploration of that. And for a couple I love that really doesn't get the exploration they deserve!

Essek and Gilmore stuck in an elevator what will they do by allmadeofstardust (1,421 words, General) Pairing: Shaun Gilmore/Essek Thelyss Warnings: None

While paying a visit to Allura, Essek gets stuck in an elevator with none other than Shaun Gilmore.

Reccer Says: A perfect exploration of that one 4 Sided Dive moment. They talk magic and flirt! What more could anyone ask for?

Baby, I Will, ‘Cause I Really Want To by brief_lives (4,694 words, Explicit) Pairing: Orym/Dorian Storm/Will (Dorymwill) Warnings: None

A Will lives AU in which Orym and Will have an open relationship whilst apart and get together with Dorian when Orym brings Dorian back to Zephrah with him.

Reccer Says: Sometimes the lack of Will Lives AUs surprises me (or maybe I don't look in the right places, idk) and so this is a really nice entry into the genre of fic! And also a great exploration of how Dorian would fit into that dynamic.

For Science, Obviously by Luddleston (3,640 words, Explicit) Pairing: Ashton Greymoore/Essek Thelyss (Shadowmoore) Warnings: None

Essek experiments with Ashton's dunamancy. Said experiments make Ashton horny. They try to hide it.

Reccer Says: This fic (and the rest of the series that followed it) are everything I could've hope for when Ashton said Essek was hot in episode 97. Luddleston never disappoints when it comes to writing Very Hot smut and this is no exception. Also the dunamancy stuff going on is very interesting and is a very fun companion to the horiness and sex for those of us who enjoy that kind of thing XD

Don't take this the wrong way by ladyofrosefire (3,128 words, Explicit) Pairing: Darrow Allocke/Fjord Warnings: None

Darrow and Fjord hook up after their fight.

Reccer Says: Listen, Darrow was 100% coming onto Fjord with the corndogs thing, you can't convince me otherwise, and I love anyone who's written fic about them. They're such an underrated pairing. This fic is really hot and I love it.

Thank you for joining us this week’s recc list! All the love to everyone who submitted a fic 💕 All enclosed recommendations were submitted by the community via our submissions form, which you can find here. All fic information is as it was provided by the reccer, so it may not be accurate to the author’s intent or the precise contents of the fic itself. Please assume good intent from all parties 💕

Submissions for next week’s list are already open! We’ll be featuring Laudna Rarepairs. If you have any you’d like to highlight, you can send them in here. The week after that, the theme is Grief & Mourning and the weeks after that we’re taking recommendations for Summer and Meet Cutes! Submissions for all of these themes are currently open.

If you want more rarepair fic, check out @cr-summer-wildflowers and their event collections on ao3! If you want some friendship after all this romance, take a look at @critter-genfic-events and their recc lists! And if you’re interested in everyone’s favorite wizards, you can’t go wrong with the lists at @aeor-is-for-reccing !

Thanks all and have a lovely day/night/timezone! 💕

[witcheroftheslothschool]

Mustang and Darrow don’t need words:

“So we attack during the day?” Mustang guesses. “Naturally,” I say. Sometimes I wonder why we even bother speaking. She knows my thoughts. Even the mad ones. - Red Rising

“Pliny wants me still, and he wants Darrow for the Sovereign. (…)” “And he figured if anyone would know where I was, it’d be you.” “So tracking me is how he will find this fleet.” Mustang says. Lorn looks back and forth at us. “When did you two discuss this?” “Just now,” Mustang says, confused at the question. Sevro claps Lorn on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’re not senile. They’re just odd.” - Golden Son

Would that I could hear Mustang’s take on this plan. Before, I’ve missed her lips, her scent, but now I miss the comfort that comes knowing her mind is aligned with mine. When I was with her, I did not feel so alone. - Morning Star

Well, except maybe this one time…

“Then her. The girl you lost.” I say nothing. (…) “Silence isn’t the answer right now, Darrow.” After a moment, she leaves me alone in the room.

[theladyofdeath]

Back to Orynth {Rowan x Aelin}

Written with @snelbz

Rowaelin. Canon. The castle in Orynth. NSFW.

Based on prompt: Rowaelin mutual masturbation fic, but then they just can’t keep their hands off each other and they fuck. But in canon. Not AU. by anonymous.

Word Count: 4,166

A/N: We've decided to take a little bit of time and post more OS! We have a very long list that we're set on tackling, and although we do a lot of AUs, I like that we started with one in canon. We hope you enjoy!

WARNING: NSFW. 18+ ONLY. The following story contains descriptions of sex. No one under 18 should continue past the link.

Aelin stood on the balcony outside of her bedchamber and watched as snowflakes drifted toward the ground. It had been a fairly mild winter for Orynth, but she still couldn’t imagine that flying through the snowy winter was all that pleasant, no matter how much snow fell. Yet, she kept her eye on the horizon, expecting to see a familiar white-tailed hawk soaring through the falling flakes at any given moment. 

Aelin was growing impatient. He'd better hurry.

It had been nearly two months since she’d last seen her Mate, her husband. There had been suspicious activity along the northern border and Rowan had led the charge in the investigation, then went on to make sure that the entirety of Terrasen’s border was secured. 

Which was all fine and good, but it did mean that Aelin’s bed was cold and her heart was only half present. 

The grandfather clock in her sitting room chimed six, and knowing that the sun would soon be setting, Aelin was growing impatient. She wondered if she screamed, as loudly as she possibly could, if that would make him come faster. Surely he would hear her, he’d have to be close enough, and nothing worried Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius more than his wife in danger.

Even if he knew perfectly well that she could take care of herself. 

Territorial, over-protective fae bastard. 

Just as she was about to give up and go back inside, she could see him, the tiniest hint of his animal form in the distance. 

He flew directly towards her, without having to even think about it. It was not his first homecoming, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. As he grew nearer, there was a flash of light, then he was landing on the stone ledge with a thump. His boots were filthy and he had a new scratch on his cheek that hadn’t fully healed, which Aelin knew meant that the original gash must have been pretty deep.

Yet, the moment he changed, his eyes were soft as he smiled at Aelin. “Nothing better to do than wait for me to arrive?”

“Well, I have a kingdom to run, but your impending arrival was distracting me,” she said, watching him fondly as he approached. 

“Glad to know I’m more important than your meetings,” he crooned, pausing before her. “I do hope you gave Lord Darrow the respect he deserves.”

“Absolutely,” she replied, eyes sparkling. “After he interrupted me for the third time, I called the meeting and spent the rest of the day in our private library.”

Save for the threat at the border, things had been prosperous since Aelin’s rule began. Trade was booming, the rebuild of the land was tedious, but created jobs the territory needed. The meeting on foreign affairs was more for pomp and circumstance than it was for a specific need.

“Our private library, huh?” He cupped her face in his hands and leaned down, finally bringing his lips to hers. The kiss was brief, but full of promise for later. “Surely you weren’t reading the texts on ancient battle strategies like I’ve suggested?”

Aelin hummed as she slid her palms up his chest and around his neck. “I assure you the strategies that I indulged in were far more…useful than any ancient battle strategy.” 

Rowan chuckled as he shook his head. “If any member of our court were to wander into our library and stumble upon a book of yours, they would be appalled at such filth.”

“And that is why I keep all the good ones in our private library.” She kissed him again, and he groaned quietly against her mouth. “You smell atrocious.” 

Rowan let go of his wife and stepped inside. “It’s been weeks since I’ve had a proper bath, I’m not sure what you were expecting.” 

“I was expecting you to at least take some soap with you in your pack. You’re a king, for the gods’ sake,” Aelin teased, following him into their sitting room and closing the double doors that led out onto the balcony. 

Rowan snorted as he took off his pack and tossed it on the couch, then began unhooking his weapons, one by one. “Who do I have to thank for putting up with your sarcastic ass while I’m away?” 

“Oh, the list is long,” Aelin crooned, watching the show he was now putting on. Once his weapons were gone, he began unbuttoning his dusty jacket. “If you’re going to thank them all, it’s going to be all you’re doing this week.”

Rowan shook his head, but she could see the slight twist of his lips as he shrugged off his jacket, adding it to the pile. “Maybe I’ll thank them by taking you off their hands for a few days.”

“Ah, I am a burden,” Aelin said, meandering over to Rowan and fisting her hands into the fabric of his thin tunic. “Are you sure you want to take on that task?” 

“I think I’ll manage,” he muttered, before kissing her once more. Aelin reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, which was growing longer once again. She loved it. 

“Take a bath,” she whispered, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his neck. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

“Don’t we have people for that?”

“I find doing things for myself keeps me humble.”

Rowan huffed a laugh before disappearing into the washroom. 

As the water ran, Aelin hurried down to the kitchens, smiling politely and greeting everyone she passed. After collecting a platter of meats, cheeses, bread, and berries, Aelin was finding her way back to her rooms. The water was still sloshing around from the washroom, so Aelin placed the platter on their table before finding her way back into her bedchamber and her wardrobe. After slipping off her gown, she pulled on a thin, golden nightgown and a knee length robe, leaving it open. She pulled the pins out of her hair, knowing that her duties for the day were complete and she would not be leaving this room any more tonight.

Collecting the book she’d been reading earlier, Aelin curled up on the couch in the sitting room, filling a glass with wine from a bottle brought straight from the personal stores of the King of Adarlan. She sipped the wine with an appreciative hum before opening her book and picking up where she’d left off.

The love interests had finally just given into their attraction for each other, desecrating every surface in the mountain side cabin in the best way. The kitchen table, the wall, the bath, the bed, Aelin couldn’t get enough as she turned page after page—

The next thing she knew, she heard the door to their bathroom opening wide and she glanced up to where her husband stood, taking up most of the doorway with his broad frame. He wore a pair of loose linen pants and…that was it. No shirt and from how low the pants hung on his hips, from what she could tell, no undershorts either.

His eyes took in where she sat on the couch, on the glass of wine on the side table and book in her hands and he smirked as he headed for the platter of food laid out on the table.

As he passed in front of the couch she sat on, Rowan froze, nostrils flaring delicately as he scented the air. Raising her eyebrows, Aelin cradled the book to her chest. “Yes?”

“What exactly are you reading?” He asked, continuing to the table the food was laid out on and leaning against it. He plucked a bunch of grapes up before picking them off one by one and popping them into his mouth.

“Nothing of your concern.” Aelin let the book fall back open in front of her, her eyes scanning the page. Rowan watched her for a moment, slowly eating his grapes, before grabbing a slice of bread and walking toward the couch. He plopped down next to her and read over her shoulder with a curse. “I repeat my earlier sentiment. Your court would be appalled if they knew of your reading material.” 

“My court should admire how in touch and confident I am with the idea of romance,” Aelin crooned, nudging her husband in the chest with her shoulder.

Rowan snorted as he bit off a piece of bread. “This is not romance. This is animalistic fucking.” 

A satisfied sensation flooded Aelin’s body as she looked up and met his gaze. “I’ve had to have some sort of companion in your absence.”

His green eyes were bright as he shoved the rest of the bread into his mouth and swallowed. “Surely this doesn’t compare.”

“No?” Aelin asked, teasingly, as Rowan dropped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “I don’t know. Me and my books have had some remarkable nights since you've been away.” 

Rowan’s eyes narrowed, and although humored, they darkened slightly. “So you’ve been well taken care of, then?”

“Don’t you admire how I can take care of myself?” Aelin asked, setting her book on the table beside the couch before giving her Mate her full attention. 

“Always have,” he confirmed, brushing his knuckles down her cheek. “Although I feel it defeats my purpose.” 

She loved it when he teased her, when he was playful. To the rest of the world, he was a nightmare come to life, a warrior with one intent, an ancient, powerful male who had the hands of death and the heart of a soldier. Aelin knew better. He was all of that, of course, but he was also a male who sat on the couch with her and flirted, who teased her and made her laugh.

Who made her toes curl and her most delicate parts throb uncontrollably. 

“Is that all you’re good for?” Aelin asked, shifting on the couch to straddle his lap. Rowan’s arms went around her waist, the most handsomely seductive little smile twisting his lips. “Pleasure?”

“As the husband of a queen?” he asked, one brow raised. “Yes. Yes, I’m fairly sure my only duty is to bring undeniable pleasure to Her Majesty.” 

“Hmm.” Aelin pursed her lips. “That’s quite the claim. And if I can pleasure myself just as well as you can?”

A low growl came out of Rowan. Even in their playful state, she could sense his jealousy brewing. “I’ll have to be the judge of that.”

Aelin’s heart began beating just a little bit faster, and she hadn’t even realized that her hips had begun to move, slowly rolling over his, until she asked, “Oh?”

As Rowan nodded, his lips brushed her neck. “Show me how you’ve pleasured yourself in my absence, my Queen.” 

Aelin’s eyes rolled back and she bit her lip, fighting the urge to moan. Beneath her, she knew exactly where Rowan’s mind was at. Between the hard thickness she rocked against and his scent, excitement and need bloomed in her core. 

“I don’t think you can handle such a sight,” Aelin said, her grin wild and devious. “A month and a half of travel has surely left you needy. Handsy. Possessive.” 

“I think you forget how patient I am,” he said, quietly, fingers teasing the hem of her nightgown. 

Aelin rolled her eyes. “You’re not patient. You just like to pretend you are.”

Rowan took her chin between his fingers and made her meet his gaze. “Try me.”

There was something about his tone that filled her body with fire and chaos. His eyes were bright, crazed, full of lust and longing. Aelin was sure that hers mirrored his. Every night that she had spent alone in his absence was full of wishing he was there beside her, holding her, loving her until her knees shook and every thought from her mind had evaporated. Now that he was here, all she wanted was to have him inside of her, but she would play his game. 

She would give him a show until he was begging.

Still straddling his lap, Aelin shook off her robe and took the hem of her silk nightgown, slowly pulling it over her head until it was sitting behind her on the carpet. Rowan’s hands found her waist but she shook her head, smirking as she pushed them away, back down to the couch cushions. “No touching.”

His eyes blazed as they swept from hers, to her bare breasts, then back up again. Although his breathing had increased, he didn’t protest. Instead, his cock twitched beneath her as he gripped the couch cushions on both sides of his thighs. 

Aelin took her time pulling her hair back until it was held snugly by a ribbon, and Rowan was practically growling by the time she slid her hands down her abdomen, to the band of her undergarment. 

“Is that patience of yours thinning?” she teased. 

“No,” he said, but the word was clipped, his jaw hard as his eyes trailed down her body and rested on her fingers, where they began to slide down the thin fabric of her panties. A slow, heavy breath left Rowan and his eyes darkened as the fabric swept down her thighs and every inch of her was bared before him. 

He didn’t even try to hide his lingering gaze. A gaze that Aelin felt powerful under. As Aelin ran a finger through her slick folds, Rowan cursed, low and filthy. His fingers flexed beside him, but his hands did not move. He obeyed the command of his Queen, even as Aelin moaned into the quiet space.

Even the thought of her husband had left her wet and wanting. She could slide down on him to the hilt, effortlessly, but she wouldn’t. No— she wanted to see how long this game would go, how far she could tease him without him pouncing. 

How long he could go without completely losing his shit. 

She wanted him completely unleashed.

Their joinings after time apart were already nearly cataclysmic, neither of them leaving their bed chamber for a day or two. It reminded Aelin of the true mating frenzy they’d been robbed of when Maeve stole her off that beach. As if the time they spent apart built up until it blew, until it wasn’t safe for anyone but the other to be around them.

That suited her just fine.

Dipping her finger into the well of her center, Aelin gasped softly, watching Rowan as he watched her. His nostrils flared and she knew he was scenting her, dying to bury himself in her arousal. With her other hand, she dragged her fingers up her toned stomach to her breast, cupping one. Her fingers toyed with her nipple, rolling it and teasing it until the sensitive bud was tight and peaked.

Rowan’s tongue darted out as he wet his lips, the only sign that he was struggling. His features were still set in stone, as if he were unfazed by her ministrations, but those eyes were locked on her.

Aelin removed her hand from her sex, fingers still glistening and reached up to touch Rowan’s chest.

Faster than she could blink, his own hand had captured her wrist. Her fingers were inches from his skin.

“What is it?” Her voice was husky, yet dripping with innocence, as if she didn’t know what she was doing to him.

Rowan sounded like he was in pain. Only a few moments and she’d already worked him up. “You said no touching.” 

She clucked her tongue, leaning in so her chest pressed into his. It pinned their hands between them. “I said you couldn’t touch me.”

“Then you can’t touch me.”

And before she knew what was happening, Aelin found her self on one end of the couch, her back to the plush, rolled arm, while Rowan sat on the other end.

Much too far for her liking.

He didn’t move. His eyes never left her. They trailed after her fingers as she settled against the couch cushions, her legs stretching out, her toes nudging Rowan’s thigh. His breathing was shallow as his eyes locked on the hand that palmed her breast. 

His hands didn’t stay still, though. Instead, Rowan untied his linen pants before slipping them down his thighs, his hardened length springing free. Aelin’s bottom lip was pulled between her teeth to keep from moaning at the sight of him, completely ready for her. She throbbed between her thighs and every thought from her mind vanished as Rowan fisted his cock and stroked. 

Aelin could practically feel him thrusting into her as the image flooded her mind. This time, she let a moan free as she began circling the throbbing ache of her clit that was begging for relief. 

Rowan’s rhythm matched hers, and for a moment, nothing could be heard in the room except for their heavy, disoriented breaths.

“Your books don’t seem to be of much use now,” he teased her, not bothering to look at the object behind her she claimed gave her so much pleasure.

Smirking, Aelin spread her legs wider, baring herself further to him. There wasn’t an inch of her body he hadn’t seen, hadn’t tasted, and she could see the raw hunger in his eyes. “They’re only necessary when I lack the imagination needed to—”

Her words fell off with a soft moan as she circled her clit, watching as Rowan worked himself. The muscles of his abdomen were straining and his hips would buck off the cushions every so often. Her mouth watered as he teased his cock, stroking the head slowly as beads of wetness appeared. Aelin wanted to lick him clean, to taste the unadulterated essence of her Mate after such a long time apart, but this game between them was first and foremost in her mind. What had started as a way to tease him had backfired in the most glorious way, and as Aelin watched her husband pump his cock in time to the plunge of her fingers into her core, she knew there was no way she would break first.

She breathed his name as that familiar sensation built in her core and Rowan’s jaw locked as he watched her body writhe beneath the power of her own fingers. Suddenly, Rowan’s hand worked himself faster, and a curse of his own left his mouth while Aelin cursed.

“Is this what you do in my absence?” Rowan hissed, his tone half teasing, half undone. His shoulders tensed as his wife cursed again, a string of profanity falling from her lips.

“Jealous?” she asked, but the word was nothing more than a whisper. She could hardly get it out as her hips rolled into her hands.

“How can I be jealous?” Rowan asked, his tone only pushing her further towards her release. “I know what’s going on inside that pretty little mind of yours.” 

Aelin’s fingers slowed to a tantalizing speed. “And what is it that I’m thinking?”

Rowan grinned, and the sight had a whimper sounding from Aelin’s closed lips.  “You’re thinking how good it’s going to feel when I finally bury myself deep inside of you.”

Aelin scoffed, although it was clear that it was nothing more than an act. “I thought I made it clear…I get by perfectly well in your absence. All by myself.”

Rowan’s hand slowed, until his hand wrapped around his cock but it did not move. “Your soul is mine. You are never alone.”

There was certainly some romantic notion in that statement, but it was mostly an animalistic declaration. No, as her Mate, their souls were connected. There was never a second that Aelin pleasured herself that she was not thinking about Rowan, even when he was thousands of miles away.

That thought alone had Aelin breathing, “Touch me.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth that Rowan grabbed her across the couch, dragging her body over his, and crashed his lips against hers. One of his hands was in her hair, the other on her ass and Aelin adjusted herself until she felt him pressing against her center, thick and hard and ready.

Gods, she needed him and she didn’t want to pretend she didn’t, no matter what game they were playing. He was not weaker for needing her, not as he’d once believed, and she wasn’t either. As he ravaged her with his kiss, Aelin rose up on her knees, lining him up with her entrance and sank down in one stroke that had both of them gasping.

Rowan’s mouth found her neck as she rode him, kisses alternating from long, languid sweeps of his tongue that made her squirm, to biting nips of the sweetest pain that had her quivering around him. His lips continued down her neck and shoulders, over her chest, until he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently.

Throwing her head back, Aelin moaned, writhing atop him, threading her fingers through his hair.

Rowan’s fingers kneaded her ass as he sucked and praised. He thrusted up as she rocked and bounced, and they did not even try to hide the noises that were shamelessly filling the space between them, around them. Aelin hoped the entire castle could hear, hoped that they all knew her Mate was home and her soul was complete yet again. 

Rowan’s lips found hers, hungrily, his tongue diving into her open mouth. Their bodies were pressed up firmly against one another’s but it still wasn’t close enough. It would never be close enough. Aelin would always long to be closer, even if they were as close as two people could be. She whispered his name and came crashing down upon him yet again, drawing a deep moan from the back of Rowan’s throat. His head fell back and he cursed before throwing her back against the couch and claiming her with a primal relentlessness that had Aelin seeing stars.

She loved him like this.

Completely unhinged.

Lost in all she had to offer, unable to control his needs and desires. 

All of it, only for her. 

The room filled with Aelin’s gasps and screams and cries of his name as Rowan fell into her again and again, urgently and meticulously. With one hand gripping her thigh, the other fell in that little space between them and his thumb rolled her clit until she was falling into oblivion, drowning in her sweet release. Her knees shook and her chest heaved as she swore, her nails digging into his skin. 

Rowan’s eyes were bright as she clenched and spilled out around him. 

It was only a few more frantic thrusts before he was following her over the edge, groaning her name as he came.

His head fell into the crook of her neck, both of them breathing heavily as they came back down. Aelin was the first to move, dragging her nails up and down his back in slow, languid strokes.

A quiet groan rumbled in his chest and she laughed softly as her fingers found her way into his hair.

“Your hair will need a trim before we hold any official court business,” she mused with a smirk as he worked to settle his breathing.

“Your court can take me as I am.” His response was muffled by her skin, but she could hear the exhaustion in his words.

She hummed as she finger combed through the tangles. “I guess you're right. I am queen, after all. What I say goes.”

Rowan snorted, knowing she’d never use her power for something so vain, but didn’t reply.

“We should clean up,” she said, glancing down. His body still completely covered hers, right down to where he was still buried inside her, their mixed releases making a mess on the couch.

“We can clean up tomorrow.” He still hadn’t raised his head, his warm breath on her skin. “Sleep now.”

“We have a bedchamber for that, you know,” she teased and he finally pulled back to look at her.

She had only seen her mate look so exhausted a few times, so completely and utterly drained that she knew the moment his head hit the pillow, he’d be asleep, so she leaned up, pressing her lips to his. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he echoed, wrapping his arms around her tighter. “Every day and every night.”

Without warning, he stood, carrying her into the washroom, making quick work of cleaning them both off before heading for their bed.

Aelin clung to him, refusing to let go even for a second. She had to soak up every minute before he was called away again to fulfill yet another duty in honor of the beautiful country that they had brought back from the ashes. 

They never redressed before snuggling closely together beneath the heap of blankets on their bed, dwelling in the heat and comfort of one another’s bare body. 

They remained in that bed together all night, intertwined and connected, and stayed there until the following night came.

[thegorydamnreaper]

Symbolism in Red Rising: Hair (Darrow)

So this started as a conversation about why Darrow should be drawn with long hair, but then I started having Thoughts anddddd here we are. Spoilers for the whole series up until the end of Light Bringer, so you’ve been warned!

(Also putting it under the cut, because this accidentally turned into an essay.)

In the mines:

He has long-ish hair, enough that it’s held back by the sweatband but not enough to tie up. He could keep it short and avoid the hassle, so why let it grow out? Because hair is deeply important to Reds culturally! Reds use hair for their wedding bands, because they place value in it. That value can be taken from a few things - it’s theirs, and not something that can be taken away, it shows their Color, it’s a part of themselves that they can share with another, growing hair/having healthy hair is a sign of being fit. All of this means an early cultural emphasis on hair for Darrow.

It’s also interesting to note that Darrow is pulled away from Eo by his hair right before she sings.

From Red to Gold:

One of the final steps in his Carving is Mickey transplanting his hair, and interestingly enough that seems to be the final mail in the coffin for Darrow on his transformation into a Gold:

“Mickey takes my hair next. Everything is changed.” (Red Rising, Ch 12)

So not only is hair deeply rooted in cultural importance, but it’s also a visual symbol that ties people to their family as seen here:

“You have made me give up the hair Father gave me, the eyes Mother left me, the Color I was born to, so I will keep the name they granted me, and you can make it work.” (Red Rising, Ch 13)

The caste system in RR means that these visual markers are critical to self identity, something that Darrow really struggles with for a long time.

As a Gold:

His first haircut comes after his final transformation into a Gold, and is done by Evey. This is the “fresh start” moment, the point where his Gold status is at its lowest and he has the most to prove - but he also has a clean slate. He’s physically and mentally more capable than ever, but hasn’t been put to the test. Where other Golds have entire histories to live up to, at face value Darrow has nothing to lose.

In the Institute:

Hair styles are taken very seriously at this point, and in a way they end up being signatures of who these characters are, even as the plot takes them on far-flung journeys. It’s interesting that at this point Darrow let’s his hair grow out, and keeps it long whenever possible. But unlike the others he doesn’t adorn it in any way, but just by having it long he’s making a statement about his strength. His hair is long because no one has cut it (taken it as a trophy), and he’s a good enough leader/fighter that he can afford to wear his hair in such a way that an enemy could grant it. The Howlers also begin taking scalps at this point - beyond just a painful and humiliating tactic, it’s also akin to taking the “crowns” of their defeated foes. Golden hair/golden crown - and Darrow has his through the institute. It’s also interesting to note that his duel with Cassius is one of the few times hair isn’t involved in his defeat, and I think that’s because on some level Darrow believes that it was an earned punishment, so I wouldn’t categorize it as a true defeat.

The Academy:

His hair is still long, pulled back simply once again. To some degree this is to emulate Nero and the Peerless trends, but it also shows that he’s still winning. Until of course we get to the garden and the Bellonas shame him and Cagney chops his hair off - symbolic of cutting him down from his seat of power.

“She smiles in my face and looks at my hairline, lips parted with excitement of dominating another person.” (Darrow about Cagney, right before she cuts his hair, Golden Son Ch 3)

This all has a lot of parallels to the Samson & Delilah story (hair cut/power lost in a moment of weakness, is able to regain power when he’s back on his true path), which we see play out as we get to…

The Gala:

We’re back at long-ish hair (~2 months after the Cagney incident), like in the mines. Back at square one with Darrow once again at almost-rock bottom. But it’s at this point where he reveals his razor training, has a rematch with Cassius, takes the Morning Star, and overall just has a great time becoming a living legend. Until, well, he’s stabbed in the back by one of his closest friends.

Rescue (Morning Star):

Once again Darrow is being forced into a haircut, though in his choice of words it’s a “scalping.” Once again, hair being taken as a trophy to humiliate someone.

“Dirty blond hair puddles onto the concrete as the Gray finishes scalping me with an electric razor. ” (Morning Star, Ch.3)

Also interesting to note, this is the first time we get the very controversial ~beard~. My take on the beard is that it’s symbolically not good, and signals a lack of control/autonomy over Darrow’s world down to even his own appearance. He’s at a loss with how to proceed, and is very nearly broken by his time with the Jackal. So I’m sorry, but if Darrow is sporting a beard, he’s not in a great place.

Stick with me, because after the time skip more Things are happening.

Iron Gold:

Chapter one hits us with this:

“These Gold eyes and hair feel more my own than those of that boy who lived in the mines of Lykos. That boy grew, loved, and dug the earth, but he lost so much it often feels like it happened to another soul.”

Even ten years later there’s a part of him questioning his own identity, and his outward appearance is a huge part of that. Is he a Gold, destined for cold brutality, or is he still a Red at heart? Personally I believe that defining himself by either is limiting, but it’s sweet to see his inner struggle to avoid becoming like the monsters he’s fighting.

Then there’s this scene with Virginia:

“She reaches up, dragging her slender fingers through my hair.” (Iron Gold, Ch. 3)

It’s the only time on-page his hair is touched with a loving gesture, not with any force or blunt practicality.

Later on in IG we get this near miss:

“He grabs my hair with an armored hand and saws on the front of my forehead to claim my scalp.” (An Obsidian attacking Darrow, Ch 54)

Literally immediately after this he’s saved by Apollonius. Near miss in battle, near miss in losing his hair again.

Dark Age:

The main theme of this book is a slow defeat, and once again Darrow’s hair parallels this. With the constant radiation his army has all lost their hair by chapter 32, and continues to feel the effects as the book progresses. This book is one of the few times in the series where Darrow actually suffers a huge loss - Alex, his legion, his ship, his best friend, his wife, his son - are all taken from him by the end.

Light Bringer:

The first physical descriptions of the characters we get is this:

“Nearly all of us are bald and those who can wear beards in remembrance of Ragnar.” (LB Ch 2)

This sets the tone of the book in a lot of ways. There’s a remembrance and acknowledgement of the past. There’s also a sense that they’ve just been through hell, but hey at least they’re alive. And it’s a sign that they’re healing and recovering from the horrors of Mercury, which is a slow and at times ugly process.

We get this take from the scene with Apollonius:

“Hardly meriting a glance for Cassius, his eyes search me, relish me, devour every last centimeter of me, noting my diminished size, my grizzled beard, my pale skin, and shortened breath.” (LB Ch 8)

And these quotes from Virginia:

“He’s encountered radiation, and his hair has only started growing back. He has a beard, a terrible, hairy beard. But the change I sense runs deeper than the physical. His restless anxiety is not gone, but it is muffled by a solemn maturity. Nothing grants wisdom like loss.” (LB Ch 34)

“But I look at Darrow and I don’t see a savior. I see an exhausted, bearded survivor stumbling home without the ships or the men to turn the tide. ” (LB, Ch 34)

I think that she says enough about what the beard outwardly signifies. Not one to mince words here our Sovereign.

Further into the book while Darrow is putting himself back together there’s this:

“My mass is returning like the hair on my head. I’ve kept the beard. For some reason it helps me to feel like I’m on a mission.” (LB Ch 37)

He’s on a mission for an army/ships etc, but he’s also on a mission to heal himself. The beard is a part of that.

Matteo’s comments on it:

“Darrow of Lykos. You have a beard!” (LB Ch 37

“Matteo surveys my injured limbs, my sun-seared-turned-sun-starved skin, my fresh scars. Instead of looking away, as most do, to preserve his image of the invulnerable Reaper, he admires my imperfections, catalogues the wounds to understand my narrative, and then loves me all the more for them. Though I can tell he doesn’t like the beard.” (LB Ch 38)

It’s worth noting that Matteo is accepting of everything else, but specifically disapproves of the beard - which means it’s not just vanity. This is a man who’s known Darrow since he was Carved, and has spent his whole life dedicated to interpreting mannerisms and outward appearances, and had spent a lot of time with Darrow specifically. He knows that the beard is not a good sign.

Lyria (who is very observant throughout the books) chimes in here:

“Unlike Sevro, he still has his beard. He seems a different creature than the commander I saw in the war room. Tired, smaller somehow. His left hand has a tremor. His neck’s stooped, body contracted.” (LB Ch 63)

Sevro has processed what he needs to, Darrow still has work to do.

Which brings me here, to what I think is the best way to conclude this analysis:

“I catch myself in one of the room’s mirrors. I look like his ghost. But I’m not. In his bathroom I search for a razor. Then I laugh, because I remember one of the old stories about him. When he was a lancer, his Praetor told him to go shave because Peerless are beardless, boy. Lorn pulled out his razor and did it right there. I shave my beard with Bad Lass in his bathroom mirror. In this way I say goodbye to him and Ragnar both. I do a sloppy job and cut myself a few times.

“Wait. Who are you and what did you do with the ancient mariner?” Cassius says when I exit without a beard.”

Darrow has beaten Fá and exposed Atlas’s plot. He’s basically secured the Obsidians back to his cause. He’s made peace with himself and Athena about the Sons of Ares he turned in. He’s got the beginning of an alliance with the Rim. He’s made peace with Lorn’s ghost about Alex, and peace with himself about it too. Pax is safe, Cassius and Sevro are back at his side. He’s finally himself again.

There’s maybe a few quotes that I missed or chose not to include, but I think this timeline is a pretty extensive timeline of Darrow’s symbolic hair journey. If anyone has further analysis or thoughts, please add!!

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 13

Fic masterlist

Thank you for your patience ❤️

This chapter is my baby. I know I say this every time, but some of the scenes took me longer to write than entire chapters. So *cracks knuckles* if you don’t like it… just kidding I won’t do anything 😂 but please don’t let me know if that’s the case lmaoo

Words: 4,9k

Warnings: language, postpartum depression

The yet to be named Galathynius-Whitethorn firstborn came into the world on October 19th, after 13 hours of labor.

Rowan almost lost his mind with worry. It was the best day of his life.

Aedion was holding the baby, his eyes darting between Rowan and the little bundle on his arms. “Holy rutting Mala, the baby is Rowan’s.”

Aelin gave him an unamused look from the hospital bed. “You just figured that one out?”

“You don’t get it.” He lifted the baby so her face would be side by side with Rowan’s from Aedion’s point of view. “It’s like he made a girl clone of himself. It’s day one, and she’s already frowning like Whitethorn.”

To be honest, Rowan was more focused on the way Aelin’s cousin was carrying the baby than on his words. Aedion Ashryver wasn’t exactly a graceful person, and watching him carry that very fragile baby made Rowan a little tense.

”Enough of that.” Orlon took the baby from Aedion’s arms, making Rowan’s shoulders drop an inch. “Do you have no clue about what to name her?”

Aelin and Rowan exchanged a look, then she said, “Our favorite so far is Maisie.”

“It’s beautiful!” Philippa beamed, studying Aelin with a fond look while Orlon agreed with her.

Darrow came closer to his husband and cooed at the little one. “It suits her.”

“I don’t know.” Aedion wrinkled his nose. “I like Aedinna better.”

“Aedion,” Philippa cautioned.

Aelin was shooting daggers at him, jaw tight as she grabbed the tissue box from the bedside table.

Rowan went stiff. “That’s enough—“

Smirking, Aedion added, “Or Wiggly Jiggly—“

“Shut up!” Aelin aimed the tissue box at her cousin and sent it flying across the room. “You’re such a fucking loser!”

“Aw.” Aelin’s cousin beamed. “Is it the first time you curse in front of the baby?”

Instead of the usual glaring that was expected, Aelin’s face faltered. She clamped her lips together and blinked, but at the same time the baby started fussing on Orlon’s arms, then he immediately gave her back to Aelin, not knowing what to do.

Enough of visitors. Rowan’s blood was beginning to boil under his skin, so he looked at his watch. His online sources said the visits shouldn’t be longer than 30 minutes, and they’ve been here for 32 already. It was time to kick everyone out.

“Aedion. Out,” Rowan said through gritted teeth, low but stern. He didn’t give a fuck that Aelin’s cousin was raised as her brother or how they’d tease each other. She got upset, and Rowan only had one job. He gave Orlon, Darrow and Philippa something that could at least resemble a smile. “Please.”

The elder ones of the family were good sports about being kicked out, just taking a second to say their goodbyes before leaving.

Except that when Rowan was holding the door for them to leave, Darrow asked to talk outside and led him a few steps away from everyone, enough to give them some privacy.

“I won’t apologize for putting you in jail.”

Rowan gave him a stiff nod. “I don’t expect you to, sir.”

“Good.” Colonel Darrow gave him a guarded look. “But I was upset, and I put Military Law before my family’s trust. That’s not something I’m proud of. It put me in enough trouble at home.”

Rowan would never know what happened in his house besides Aelin moving out, and he might not want to. Whatever his intentions were, Rowan broke the law, and his sentence for improper sexual conduct was fair. The only person to blame was himself.

“Because you are family now, Rowan, and I want you to feel welcome with Orlon and I.”

Rowan’s breath hitched until his body restarted so he could swallow a lump in his throat. “Thank you, sir.”

“But don’t fuck up again. I’m still your superior at work.”

There was not a chance Rowan would have sex inside base again. Not after going to the guardhouse for it, not after Aelin.

“There’ll be nothing but teaching at the Training Center, Colonel.” Rowan did his best to bite back a smile. “I have everything I could ask for at home.”

Darrow gave one last tap on Rowan’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you, kid.”

He watched Aelin’s family leave—his family too now, not his words—but not for long. He quickly went back to the room, his eyes meeting Aelin’s as soon as he entered the room again.

She looked nothing short of heavenly today in the Air Force’s maternity ward.

Aelin moved to the side a little, silently telling him to join her in the bed. She didn’t need to ask twice. There was a lot of paperwork waiting for Rowan, but it wouldn’t be done until they decided the baby’s name.

They just stayed there for a moment, watching their baby’s rosy cheeks—she was all bundled up, so it was all they could see—the loudest thing in the room being the AC running.

Rowan chewed on his lip, thinking about her telling her uncle she liked ‘Maisie’ best. “You don’t mind naming her after a junkie’s song?”

“What? No.” Aelin gave him a confused look. “The name is so cute, and my dad was a fan. I thought you were the one who didn’t want it.”

”You know…” a gentle kiss on the crown of Aelin’s head. “I have really good memories attached to that song.”

“So?”

Rowan caressed his daughter’s chubby cheeks. “I think Maisie is ready for another nap.”

Aelin smiled against his chest. ”So is Maisie’s mother.”

He brushed her hair back with his fingers and said, “Me too. Maybe I should teach Maisie’s first lesson on adulthood and make her fill her own paperwork.”

Aelin mentioned to pinch his side, but Rowan grabbed her hand before the minor assault. He restrained his hug as much as he could, careful with her tired postpartum body, and cuddled Aelin to sleep.

Of all the pain Rowan had to endure in his life, his favorite so far was feeling his cheeks hurt from grinning so much. All because of his girls.

He was living with Aelin, the mother of his child. Rowan had the whole package already, he just needed to convince Aelin of one thing.

Rowan held her tightly, and there was something in his mind as he did, repeating itself like a broken record while he felt it take over his body and soul.

He loved her

He loved her

He loved her

˜˜

Turns out pursuing Aelin while having a newborn was harder than Rowan thought.

Between tending Maisie and giving Aelin space to recover from giving birth, the last thing on Rowan’s mind was his own dick. Actually, pursuing the woman he loved in hopes to become an official family with her went beyond ‘thinking with his dick’, but that’s how Rowan felt when he considered asking her that when she looked so… Aelin was far from fragile, but she still seemed to be overwhelmed by postpartum hormones, or whatever made new moms sad.

Rowan opened the fridge and ran a hand through his face, not missing the sharpness of his unshaved cheek. Did Maisie drink all those bottles already? They were prioritizing breastfeeding, but Rowan would do anything to let Aelin rest as much as she could.

He was so sure her insomnia would end with the pregnancy, but she seemed to sleep even less now that Maisie was here.

“Rowan!”

He blinked, jerking towards the stove, where his mom was. “What?”

At first, they dismissed his mother when she first offered to spend a few weeks with them until things were settled, but now Rowan thanked her every night for insisting to stay. He had just realized how demanding a two-week-old can be.

“Were you listening to me?”

Rowan grimaced. “Can’t say I was, sorry.”

Rory’s shoulders dropped, nothing but fondness in her gaze. “Did you talk to Aelin?”

Rowan settled close to his mother to wash a few dirty bottles. “She told me she’s fine.”

His mother had her I-know-it-all look, the same one she gave him when Rowan was a teenager grew like a tree, but wouldn’t admit he was taking workout supplements.

“Could you not?” Rowan gave her a look to rival her Mom Look. He failed miserably.

She was turning the beef around on the pan, frowning at the half-cooked meat. “I’ve seen a lot of new moms, Rowan. I know what a happy one looks like.”

He flexed his jaw, scrubbing the bottle harder than necessary. “If you’ve seen a lot of new moms, you know they get overwhelmed after birth.”

Rory turned back to work on dinner. “It’d be a lot easier on her if she had an actual partner, you know?”

His neck stiffened, his pulse faster in a heartbeat. Rory’s hints about him marrying Aelin had gotten less and less subtle as the months passed. As much as Rowan wanted to do that, those comments still irked him.

“You’re telling me she won’t be happy until we’re married and I put a white picket fence around the house?”

“I’m not telling you to marry her because of whatever people my age say a family should look like.” Rory gave him a dagger-sharp look. “I’m telling you to marry Aelin because you’re in love, but you two don’t seem to know what to do with that.”

His chest tightened, and Rowan wouldn’t look Rory in the eye. “It’s complicated.”

Her posture relaxed, and her eyes and tone were a lot softer when she said, “It’s not. You see what you want, and you seize it.”

Rowan felt his throat closing, and he just rushed with the rest of the dishes before leaving to check on Aelin and Maisie. For Mala’s sake, was his mother this desperate for a daughter-in-law?

He stood by the open door, watching them before announcing his arrival. Aelin’s hand was gentle but restless as she patted Maisie’s back, her eyes distant as she tried to burp the little girl.

Rowan would act on his feelings when the time was right, he was happy to just watch his family in the meanwhile.

And Aelin… she was recovering from giving birth. That’s the reason she wouldn’t get out of bed.

He sat beside her on the bed. “She’s done feeding?”

“Not quite.”

Rowan extended both hands. “Can I try?”

Since the usual technique wasn’t working, Rowan decided to try something he saw online. He held Maisie against his chest and shoulder as usual, but gently swiveled her bottom instead of patting her back.

Until the cutest little burp echoed through Aelin’s room. A completely different experience from the ones he’s used to hearing at the Air Force’s mess hall.

”There she is.” He kissed Maisie’s belly and held her in front of him, father and daughter staring at each other with the same pine green eyes. “Did you like Mommy’s dinner?”

“She better enjoy it while she can, that’s the only dinner I can make.”

Rowan squeezed her hand. “I’ll take care of that once she grows some teeth.”

She leaned against the bedpost, lips flat. “Of course you will.”

His breath caught inside his chest. Did he say something wrong?

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Aelin bowed her head and grimaced. “I didn’t mean to snap, it’s just—“ she ran both hands through her hair. “I feel like I’m always messing up with Maisie.”

Rowan hummed, moving himself and the baby closer to Aelin. “I think Maisie disagrees, since you’re very clearly her favorite person.”

This line was supposed to make Aelin smile, but it completely backfired now that she was staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

“Wanting me is just her instinct. She’s biologically inclined to do that.”

He caressed her shoulder, trying to comfort her in any way he could. “Instinct or not, I still think you’re a great mom.”

“And you’re like a dream dad that came straight from a diaper ad.“ She gave him a weak smile. “It’s annoying sometimes. I love it.”

Aelin leaned her head against his shoulder and they stayed there, savoring the moment until Maisie decided it was enough.

It wouldn’t be long until the time to act on his fluttering stomach came. Rowan would pour his heart out, put a ring on her finger, and have as many children as she wanted.

He’d do it when the time was right.

˜˜

“Who’s ready for some beach-themed therapy?” Yrene greeted them into her office with a huge grin, holding a beach ball with emotions written on it.

Aelin threw her head back, laughing. “What’s that?”

That made Rowan’s chest fill with warmth, and it was a well-known fact that he could live his whole life gravitating around that laughter alone. He flexed his hands, then gave in to the ache in his fingers and fondly brushed them against the middle of her back. Aelin gave him a quick smile and turned back to their therapist.

Yrene gave them space to walk inside while explaining, “We use this activity mostly with teenagers, but I thought it’d be nice to get you in the mood for your trip.”

After they discussed last week’s homework, she explained that it consisted of passing the ball around, reading the first word that pops in and telling one time they felt that way. Easy.

“Furious.” Aelin gaped at the ball, and then at Yrene. “That’s a way to start.”

“Now you tell us a time when your family made you furious,” their therapist said.

Aelin squinted her eyes at him. “When you cut Maisie’s hair without telling me.”

Rowan grimaced. Fatherhood was hard, but nothing could prepare him for dealing with his daughter’s hair. There were so many different creams, he always got the hairstyles wrong, and she’d scream bloody murder while getting her hair rinsed.

So Rowan did the logical thing and cut his toddler’s hair around the chin.

Maisie liked it, but Aelin yelled so much at him she nearly ruptured his eardrums.

She had one arm holding the ball against her, the other on her hip. “You have nothing to say for yourself?”

“It grew back.”

Aelin threw the ball at him a little harsher than necessary. “Your turn.”

By the looks of it, there was a reason therapists chose a beach ball, and not something heavier and therefore deadlier to do this dynamic with.

“Thankful.” Rowan twirled the ball in his hands, smiling inwardly. “When Maisie trashed my house while I took a nap and you helped me clean it up.”

His memory broke her angry stance, making Aelin’s shoulders relax. “You could’ve pressed charges against Maisie for what she did to your house.”

“Technically, I could arrest her myself, but I don’t think the Brigadier would approve.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, like she always did when someone joked about her being the Air Force’s nepo baby, and he passed her the beach ball.

“Appreciated.” Aelin had a wistful smile on, and looked as if it was a crystal glass showing her past. “When I was pregnant, you’d leave the house in the middle of the night to buy something I was craving.”

Rowan’s heart constricted with the memory, but he knew he’d do it all over again. Getting to know her, living with her while they watched Maisie grow made those some of the best days of his life.

Flooded with memories, he almost missed the beach ball when Aelin passed it to him. It was like time stopped when Rowan grabbed it and read the first word his eyes settled in, his chest caving and the floor falling beneath his feet. Should he lie? There was only one time he felt—

“What’s the word, Rowan?” Yrene asked when silence stretched for too long.

He swallowed. “Betrayed.”

“What?” Aelin let out a low, shaky laugh. “I never betrayed—“

“When you asked me to leave.”

Aelin was rooted to her spot, gaping until she blurted, “How was that a betrayal?”

Yrene cleared her throat. “Let’s remember this should be a safe space to share our—“

“You want me to be petty now?” Rowan shook his head and started finger-counting everything he barely remembered now, but weighted on him six years ago. “You were my student. You had a boyfriend. I went against every rule I had for you.” Rowan’s mouth opened and closed, his breathing ragged as he voiced every feeling he ditched over the last six years, like weed growing from small cracks in an old road he buried with asphalt day after day. “I went to *jail* for you. I fixed your entire house for you—“

“I didn’t force you to do any of that—“

“But you forced me to leave!“ Rowan sat on the couch and scraped his palms against his face, trying to think of the right words. ”I know things were shitty, but you were clutching Maisie to your chest when you told me to pack my things and leave!” He held one finger up while holding his head down and took one deep breath. And another. And another. Until the boiling in his blood calmed down.

He continued after a moment, “I didn’t mean to snap. I know that wasn’t exactly a betrayal, but emotions don’t always align with facts, or whatever Yrene has been telling us.”

Aelin sat by his side, reading every line of his wretched expression with her own, and said, “I wish I’d done things differently, but I couldn’t make the right choices because my mind wasn’t in the right place.” She playfully elbowed his side with a small, tentative smile. “Or whatever Yrene has been telling us.”

Rowan slowly nodded, knowing he’d mull this words over and over after this session ended. “I wish I’d done things differently too. I can’t stop thinking about every time I messed up that year since…” Since Ansel suggested that he was the reason Aelin kicked him out, but he wouldn’t open this Pandora‘s box now. Rowan sighed, all the weight of these six years heavy on his shoulders. “I‘ve been trying to puzzle things together, and the only conclusion I get to is that I failed you and Maisie.”

Aelin squeezed his hand. “You never did.”

She meant well, but hearing that she regretted her decision and that it wasn’t his fault wasn’t reassuring at all. It only sent him back to square one, even more confused.

Aelin took a deep, pained breath and closed her eyes, then fiddled with his fingers. She must’ve read something on his face, because she added, “I wish I could give you a better answer and explain those last few days to you, but I don’t remember Maisie’s first months very well.”

Rowan caressed her wrist with his thumb, not knowing what to say. It was odd that she didn’t remember, but—

Yrene cleared her throat. “And remember that if you’re feeling overwhelmed by your own thoughts, I’ll be happy to help you with that.”

Beating himself up for every little thing he did six years ago was a natural response for losing the love of his life. Rowan had no idea why his therapist was so obsessed with him starting individual sessions.

He looked back at Aelin, noticing her unguarded expression and how the touch of her hand covering his wired and soothed him at the same time.

Right now, he just needed one thing.

˜˜

“Why is this taking so long?” Maisie whined from the backseat of the car they just rented.

Rowan had an ‘I told you so’ ready, but it wouldn’t help with anything now. With a plane trip to Southeastern Doranelle and a long drive to his parents’ house on the same day, he knew getting into the long drive-thru line would only make Maisie stressed. The problem is that his daughter was as stubborn as she was impatient.

“I don’t know, honey.” Aelin gasped from the passenger, eyes wide in a display of theatrics she only did to entertain Maisie. “Maybe they’re ordering the whole menu.”

“They’re taking forever.” The little girl crossed her arms, unamused. “Why did everyone’s daddy have to grab lunch today?” Maisie was doing distressed, dramatic gestures with her arms. “Where’s all the mommies?”

Rowan’s spine went rigid and he frowned at his daughter. “What do you mean?”

“Rowan…” Aelin grimaced and bit back her laughter at the same time. “You’re a slow driver. I thought you knew that already.”

His eyes widened. “I’m not!”

Aelin threw her head back, laughing. “You are! And Maisie has your road rage.”

He shook his head, but swallowed his retort when the car in front of them got their bag. He hit the brake pedal, hands clutching the steering wheel as he leaned forwards, breathlessly waiting… but the car wouldn’t move.

“Ugh!” Maisie looked up and sighed. “Daddy, do you want me to get out and push so they’ll move?”

Her “threat” worked like a charm, now that the car moved and they were one step closer to getting a meal. Rowan’s lips were pinched together, restrained, but when he saw Aelin’s shoulders shaking with her head between her hands, he silently rested his head on the steering wheel and did the same.

It should be illegal to feel this amused at his own daughter’s frustration, but Maisie was too cute with road rage.

After they got their food and went back to the road, Aelin put on the Little Mermaid soundtrack again. The girls were singing at the top of their lungs, and Rowan could finally agree that this was better than having the GPS on and not taking a wrong turn every fifteen minutes. He didn’t remember how many times he listened to Under the Sea today, but he remembered getting warm, funny feelings in his chest every time their voices got louder than the song.

Before the trip really began, Rowan already accepted that the vacation was theirs, and he was just the chauffeur.

He wasn’t supposed to love this idea this much.

However, his mind was half there, half on the last therapy session they had. It hadn’t left his mind ever since he stepped out of Yrene’s office.

Aelin told him very clearly she wished she’d done things differently.

Restless nights, charged pauses when they spoke, fingers hovering over his phone’s keyboard. Rowan felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, on the verge of jumping and asking a detailed explanation of what she meant, in whatever way that would answer all the questions in his head. Or at least the most important one.

“Use your words, boy and ask her!” They sang in the background of Rowan’s anxiety. “If the time is right and the time is tonight, go on and kiss the girl!”

Rowan paused the song with a heartbeat faster than it should, but not without groans of protest. “What’s that?”

“Kiss the Girl!” Maisie whined. “Daddy, I want the song back.”

“Okay, okay.” He put the song back, feeling a tad guilty for disrupting an already stressed Maisie. “Sorry, kiddo.”

Rowan only relaxed when the song ended, though, and half of the weight of his shoulders left his body later, when they finally got to their destination.

Maisie burst into his parents’ beach house as soon as her door unlocked like the little cannonball she was.

“Go on.” Rowan nudged Aelin forward. “I got the bags.”

Stubborn as the day she was born, Aelin took her bag from his hand. “I’m not gonna barge into your parent’s house like I’m their five-year-old granddaughter.”

This was ridiculous, considering how much Rory and Owen loved her, but he understood why she was a little guarded now. Rowan came here with Maisie once or twice a year, but it was Aelin’s first time visiting.

“Knowing my parents, they might even like it.” Rowan snorted, shaking his head. “They already act like you’re the daughter they never had, anyway.”

He took two steps towards the house, but Aelin didn’t follow. She was staring, frozen with an indecipherable look aimed at him, and the realization of what he’d just said rooted him to the ground, his body so heavy it expanded to his core.

This week at therapy. If she was looking at him like this, it meant that being part of the family to his mother meant something to her. Every single interaction now led him back to therapy.

She dumped him, but she wished she’d done things differently.

Of all the reactions Rowan thought she’d have if he ever voiced the thoughts that made him pace in the middle of the night, holding his hand and apologizing wasn’t one of them.

Maybe he held back for being still used to the explosive reactions he got from her before family therapy, or maybe he knew he’d never say it out loud only to have his fears confirmed.

That he focused on the baby and didn’t pay her enough attention. That he was working too long hours. That his fussiness made him micromanage her mothering—which Rowan was actively trying to stop. That she got trapped with him, then decided she could have more.

But whatever happened that year, she wishes she’d done things differently.

“Aelin!” His mother shouted from the front door, stepping out their way. “I couldn’t believe my ears when Rowan told me you’d come!”

She hugged Rory, finally out of that trance. “Your house is so beautiful.”

His father showed up with Maisie while pleasantries were being exchanged. “About time,” the old man mock-complained.

“Sorry we’re late.” Rowan gave his dad a man hug and got the usual two pats on the back. “Maisie and Aelin turned off the GPS. The voice directions were disturbing their Disney sing-along.”

“Oh, that’s understandable.” Owen picked his granddaughter up, grinning. “I didn’t know you like singing with your mom that much, Maisy Daisy.”

She nodded with all the earnestness a five-year-old could muster. “The songs are fun, and Mommy is really brave.”

“Maisie!” Aelin chastised, her lips somewhere between a gape and a smile. “Why am I ‘brave’ for singing?”

The little girl just giggled and hid her face on her grandpa’s shoulder.

Rowan slowly shook his head, never failing to be amused at his daughter. He was ready to defend Aelin‘s skills, but that was her own sass biting her in the ass. Maisie might’ve gotten the Whitethorn looks, but that fiery personality was all Aelin’s.

On the second floor, Rowan got his usual guest room, but his mother was still showing everything because of Aelin.

“This one I prepared for you.” She was pointing everything around, assuming everyone was catching up. “There’s Sellene’s room, the other is Enda’s. Their kids have a room for themselves, they just asked me to put on a show about a boy and dogs.”

Maisie’s eyes brightened. “Pawtrols.”

“That one!” Rory crouched down enough to be eye to eye with Maisie. “Well, the kids’ room I prepared has a TV and lots of toys.” She pointed at a door down the hall. “You could sleep there with your cousins and leave the other room just to your mom and dad.”

Rowan didn’t know why he was surprised.

Maisie crossed her arms. “No.”

Rory’s face fell. “What.”

The little girl put her foot down, dramatically shaking her head. “I wanna stay with Mommy and Daddy.”

His mother didn’t agree or protest, knowing she was already bordering the line between scheming and being pushy.

“We don’t have to decide now.” Rowan crouched to talk to Maisie, ready to get rid of that weird tension. “You can stay with us for as long as you want, and play during the day or have sleepovers with your cousins when you feel like it.”

Aelin wiggled her eyebrows. “You could have both rooms, Mais.”

The little girl’s eyes lit up with the idea. “Can I have both rooms, Grandma?”

“Of course you can, honey.” Rory grinned at her granddaughter, all the distress from her failed plan vanished already. “You three get settled, everyone’s downstairs.”

When they set the bags on the room, Maisie threw herself on the bed while Aelin excused herself to the bedroom.

Rowan laid on the bed next to his little girl, where the three of them would sleep squashed together. It’d be nice to have some alone time with Aelin, but he was also incapable of saying no to Maisie.

Besides, his mother didn’t need to trap him into anything with Aelin, he’d do it this time. Forget about reading her cues and waiting for the perfect time, he was tired of feeling like his soul was being ripped into threads every time he watched her eyes light up while her lips arch into a smile.

Rowan wished he’d done things differently too, but that had to stop somewhere.

And if he didn’t have a shot with Aelin, he’d at least fight for what he wanted this time.

She walked back into the room, smiled, and laid on the other side of the bed, hugging Maisie as well.

He’d make a move and do everything on his mind in the near future. Right now, he had a family hug to attend.

“Mom? Dad?”

Aelin hummed.

“You’re a slice of bread.”

Rowan frowned. ”I don’t get it.”

Their daughter beamed. “I’m the cheese!”

That earned her a chuckle. Indeed, Maisie was sandwiched between them in a hug.

Aelin smacked a kiss on her cheek. “You’re our Mayomaisie.”

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[thatbostonbooknerd]

Brother

When the Golds spoke of the void, they spoke of darkness. Not a darkness where you lived and breathed, but one where there was simply nothing.

And at first, it seems like that.

Because after the pain, after a man he called brother emptied his bullets into Cassius, there is only darkness. Darkness, and silence, and loss.

He lost his whole family. He lost Lysander, even after he thought he'd finally got him back. He lost Darrow and Sevro and Lyria and Diomedes and all the people he wanted so badly to believe in him. He wouldn't change a thing, wouldn't walk away from that moment to save himself, but in the darkness of the void he feels so very alone. And he wonders if this is all there is left for him now--darkness, and silence, and loss?

But then the darkness gives way. A faint light, so faint that at first he thinks it's some kind of mirage. Like a man wandering in the deserts of Mercury, convinced he's found water, only to be disappointed.

This is no mirage. The light grows, and Cassius reaches for it. It blinds him, but he moves closer, until he emerges somewhere else entirely. He doesn't bother to take stock of his surroundings, however, because he finds himself flat on his back staring up at a face he never thought to look upon again.

Golden hair and a grin so earnest it breaks his heart, the man stares down at him.

"Julian?" he asks, voice unsteady with hope. Even knowing the void was all that waited after death, he had often imagined seeing his twin again. He had wondered what he might find in Julian's eyes when he did - would he ever understand Cassius calling his killer a brother?

But there is no recrimination in the eyes staring down at him.

"I did tell Darrow you were the best man I knew," Julian says with so much pride it makes Cassius ache. "I should have known you'd prove me right."

[highqueenofelfhame]

a/n: okay so chapter three of this might be up before ten of ciwyw simply because i'm excited about it and it's already like halfway done. i'm sorry if this is disappointing news BUT i promise it's a really really good chapter with delicious content. love u, thank you for reading <3

rowaelin // 5.6k words // skoh masterlist // masterlist

“I wish I could tell you guys about this bullshit, but it’s fucking classified,” Aelin hissed into the cell phone she had sandwiched between her ear and shoulder. To their credit, Elide and Lysandra tried to disguise their laughter on the other end, but it came back muffled all the same. The two were drunk on a beach somewhere in Ellywe, and it showed.

 Everyone knew that Aelin joining the Cadre would be a disaster one way or another. When the idea was proposed to her, she turned it down. Three different times. The bad blood with Rowan flowed so deep that she didn’t care about an increase in pay or the less boring missions that came along with it. Truthfully, she would rather be lost in the Staghorns somewhere with Aedion’s unit or back in the desert with the one that showed up to take over for the Cadre. 

 Yet when Darrow approached her with the idea a fourth time, stressing how much they needed an extra person, she caved. The claims that she was the only person fit for the job had gone to her head a little bit, and it was biting her in the ass. He had even brought in her Uncle Gavriel to talk to her about going. The bastard knew that it would sway her, and it had worked. Now that this mission required them to be married, she was pretty sure it had been in the works for a little longer than they knew, and convincing Aelin to join them was the final piece of the puzzle. 

 Currently, she was quickly washing her hands in a bathroom at the Rifthold International Airport. The flight had been sixteen hours, and she was desperate for a bath that didn’t require body wipes to make her smell decent. The boys were probably waiting for her, but she didn’t care. Rare was it that she could use her personal phone to call her friends, and godsdammit, she was going to take advantage.

 “Is he still an ass?” Lysandra asked as Aelin ripped a few paper towels from the dispenser to dry her hands.

 “Of course he is. He has the nerve to act like he’s the one that was scorned! As if I didn’t fight tooth and nail for our relationship to work until the physical and emotional distance was too much to deal with.” She huffed as she poked her bags with her boot, fingers pulling her braid over her shoulder just to have something to do with her hands.

“I mean, you have to come to some sort of truce to make it work,” Elide piped in, crunching sounds filling the space between words while she snacked. 

 “I know. Gods, I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.” Aelin sighed, her chest decompressing as several women scurried into and out of stalls around her. “I should go.”

 “Where are you, anyway?” Lys asked.

 “I can’t say, but I can allude that I’m closer to home.”

 “Can you get a normal job? You coming on vacations would be fun.” Elide’s sad-drunk tendencies were starting to peek through, making Aelin smile.

“If Rowan doesn’t kill me first, I might end my active-duty career as soon as possible after this shit is done.” It was only half a joke. Being this close to Rowan was already far more taxing than she imagined. If anything, she thought they might ignore each other and carry on with their jobs like responsible adults. Sure, she knew her old wounds were tender at best, but the explosive tension was slightly unexpected. 

 The three muttered their goodbyes as she hefted her bags onto her shoulders and filed out of the bathroom, immediately spotting Lorcan and Rowan’s heads towering over everyone else near the exit to baggage claim. Aelin forced her shoulders back and stood straight as she could. 

 Approaching Rowan was a battle of its own sort. She had to be ready for a fight constantly. There was just no way of telling if she was walking straight into the line of fire or not.

 ~*~

 The house they would be living in was beautiful. It was a large estate sitting on the cleaner side of the Avery River, nestled back in a little grove of oak trees. A large iron gate kept any outsiders from easily getting onto the property, but it was so far off any main road that they didn’t anticipate trespassers being much of a problem. 

 Not that it really mattered– every inch of the land surrounding the house was under twenty-four-seven surveillance that they could watch from inside. The day before, a tech team had come in to set up all the equipment they would need for quick and secure communication with their superiors. Though the equipment they used was always the best the Terrasen government had to offer, it was always a little more fun to use when stationed in a big city. 

 Though the house had six bedrooms, they quickly learned during the initial walk-through that three were being used for mission-related activities. One room comprised a large desk and about a dozen monitors for surveillance; another had enough desk space for all six of them with room to spare, and the third was primarily for communication. It was filled with phones and computers connected to a highly secure network that, in theory, was breach-proof. 

 That left three rooms for the six of them to divvy into, and Aelin tried to cut the corners of arguing with who was sleeping where by quickly voicing her own option. 

 “I’ll room with Fenrys. Lorcan and Rowan can share and–”

“No.” Rowan’s response was immediate and flat. A single eyebrow quirked up as she slowly pivoted on one heel to look at him. His eyes, however, were on Fenrys. It had been years, and apparently, their casual affection was still grating on his nerves like soft cheese. 

“No?” She questioned, arms folding over her chest. Rowan slid his gaze to her face as the others took a few casual steps away as if they would rather be anywhere but in the middle of their divorced parent’s fight.

“No.” The word was harder, more final this time. 

“Fine, you and me then?” She threw a hand in the air for sarcastic flair and laughed sardonically.  Surely he would drop his weapons and retreat with arms raised, but he didn’t. It surprised everyone in the room, herself more than the rest. 

“Fine.” Shock washed over her in a static wave, running across her body like an electrical current. Everything buzzed from her fingers to her toes as he told no one in particular, “We get the master.”

Nobody was going to disagree with his claim. The two of them needed as much space between them as possible. With all the tension and white-hot energy, they could hardly share a room for meetings, much less a bed. Mala must have boiled his brain to sludge during their stay in the desert. He clearly wasn’t thinking things through.

She was further surprised when he yanked both their bags off the floor where they’d dumped them upon entry and headed toward the north wing of the house. Aelin glanced at Lorcan, hoping he would have something to say on the matter, but he shrugged and grabbed his own bags, shouting that Vaughan was with him as he did. Fenrys, at least, looked as confused as she felt.

 “Have fun with… whatever the fuck that was,” Connall told her, the three remaining men collecting their bags from the floor. 

“You really put your foot in your mouth this time, didn’t you, babe?” Fen drawled, ruffling her hair and following his brother.

“You’re all traitors!” She called as they dispersed, leaving her to begrudgingly march toward the room Rowan had claimed for them. Their low chuckles followed her down the hall, and she was pretty fucking sure she even heard Lorcan laughing with them. 

 When she reached the master bedroom, she was pleasantly surprised at the size of it. A king-size bed was centered against one wall, each side with its own lamps and nightstands. The large bay window on the right side had a bench perfect for reading in if she ever found herself with downtime. There were two doors to the left of the bed. One led to a large bathroom with a shower and a huge bathtub that she would most definitely be soaking in soon. The other was a walk-in closet that rivaled the one she had at home. 

 It was also where she found Rowan.

 Each side of the closet had plenty of drawers and space for hanging clothes and a dozen or so cubbies scattered about. Rowan stood to one side, unpacking his clothes and placing them into drawers. She pretended she didn’t notice that he had chosen the left side– the same as when they lived together.

 Aelin followed suit, kneeling on the floor by her bag and dividing things amongst her drawers. Since they were in need of civilian attire for the mission, she would be going out to purchase new things sometime tomorrow before the real work began. For now, she just wanted a shower and a nap. 

Rowan had slipped out moments before she was finished. Once satisfied with her portion of the closet, she entered the bedroom to find him peering through the curtains, eyes scanning the backyard. He didn’t seem to notice her, or if he did, he chose to say nothing. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around her body and steeled herself for another fight.

 “Is it okay if I shower first?”

 “Yep.” His fingers released the curtain, and it slipped shut, the sheer fabric not doing much to shield them from the outside world. Aelin made a mental note to get some blackout curtains tomorrow, both for safety and to keep the early morning sun out when she had the luxury of sleeping past five am. 

 “Are you sure?” For once, she wasn’t pushing to get on his nerves. If he wanted the bathroom to himself first, she would allow it if it meant no verbal sparring.

 “I already said yes, Aelin.” The edge of his words was sharp and short as a brand-new dagger. So much for not fighting.

 “You don’t get to do this.” She blurted, fingers gripping her shirt tightly.

 “I don’t get to do what, exactly?” Rowan looked at her then, eyebrows slightly raised and shoulders tense. At his sides, his hands were rolling up into fists. 

“Be pissy about our sleeping arrangements when you’re the one that booted out my perfectly good option.”

 “You were doing it to fuck with me, and I’m not giving you the satisfaction,” he said calmly, taking up a casual fighting stance: feet shoulder-width apart, arms folded over his chest, muscles coiled and ready to strike.

 “I was doing it because I highly doubt the other three would want to catch me in any state of undress accidentally, and only me and Connall can handle Fenrys full time,” she shot back. Her fingernails dug into the skin beneath her shirt like they would sew her up if she fell apart. The tendons in Rowan’s neck were visible, hard lines. If she were closer, she would probably be able to see his pulse pounding against his skin.  “I don’t know why you think I’m just here to fuck up your life. I didn’t even want this job to begin with.”

 Hating that she was the first to retreat, she walked to the closet to gather what she would need for her shower. Footsteps followed her, stopping in the doorway as Rowan asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

 “Which part?” Aelin plucked a pair of boring cotton underwear from the drawer. 

“That you didn’t want this job.” Selecting a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, she turned to face him with her facial expression calling him ten kinds of stupid.

“It means that I didn’t want this fucking job.” Maybe she drew out every word a little more slowly on purpose to needle beneath his skin. The feathering of his jaw said it worked.

“I understood that part.” He sounded frustrated, his fingernails white where they pressed into his biceps. “You didn’t ask for the transfer?”

 “I turned it down three times. In the last few weeks, Darrow was up my ass about it. Even had Uncle Gav try to convince me, so I caved. Did you think I asked for this to come rain a special kind of hell down on your head?” 

“I wouldn’t put past you,” he retorted, and something in her broke. Just a little bit. 

“Contrary to whatever bullshit you’ve made up about me to craft me into your villain, I was perfectly content to never see you again. I don’t want to work with you, I don’t want to share a single molecule of oxygen with you, and I don’t want to constantly be ready to fight with you at the drop of a hat. This isn’t what I wanted for my career or my personal life. I’m here because I took an oath to protect my country, and despite my multiple refusals, they wanted me here with this unit.” Aelin shoved past him, her shoulder ramming into his arms as she did. “Do us both a favor and get over yourself, Rowan. This self-centered bullshit is exactly why I fucking left you.”

Though she hadn’t meant to be quite so dramatic, the bathroom door slammed in his face when she closed it. The sickly feeling of guilt washed over her at the look on his face. That last hateful sentence wasn’t even supposed to be said out loud. Did she even mean it?

Aelin didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she finally heard his footsteps retreat from the room and a heavy exhale whooshed from her lungs.

~*~

“Aelin, I–” His hands reached for her, but she smacked them away hard enough that it stung his palms.

 “No, no, no. I told you a thousand times if you took another deployment, I was done. And there is just no–” Aelin let out a gasping sob, one hand on her heart and the other wrapped around her torso. Unable to stop himself, he tried to pull her to him. If he could just calm her down, it would be okay.

Before his fingers could even graze her skin, she stumbled backward. A gust of wind had rain blowing at him from behind. He wasn’t sure if his face was wet with tears from his eyes or the sky. 

 “Baby–” The back of Aelin’s wrist pressed to her mouth and did nothing to muffle the sob. Knowing he was the source of her pain had him wishing for a lightning strike. 

 “There is no coming back from this.” The words were almost carried away in the storm. Not once had he ever heard her speak so softly, so broken. Tears streamed down her cheeks and neck, soaking the collar of her t-shirt while she shook her head and pointed for him to leave with a shaky finger. Her other hand was still pushing her heart back into her chest. “There is no coming back.”

The front door slammed in his face and triggered a final fissure in his heart that had his heart and soul shattering into a million jagged pieces on the rain-soaked ground. 

A firm hand on his shoulder made him jerk forward, twisting on his heel. A soldier through and through, he started to go on the defensive. Just as he reached for his attacker, he realized it was Lorcan and dropped his hands, shaking his head to clear his mind of the memory.

 Lorcan’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as he said, “I said your name twice.” 

 “Sorry. What’s up?” Rowan hadn’t meant to be so wrapped up in his thoughts as he stood on the back porch. A mirror image of the gloomy gray sky reflected on the surface of the swimming pool. The sound of the door slamming in his face still echoed in his ears, but he didn’t know if it was the past or present that haunted him. Probably both. 

 “I want to go over what needs to be done this week,” Lorcan told him, nodding toward the house. Through the windows, he could see everyone lounging on the couches and chairs that made up the formal living room. Each of them held a folder; Aelin’s was in her lap, where she curled up in the corner of the couch. Deft fingers twined her damp hair into a braid over her shoulder. Lorcan’s eyes followed his gaze as he braced his hands on his hips. “Do you need to talk about it before we go in?” 

“I don’t know what there is to say.”

 “Look, I am by no means any sort of authority on relationships, but the fact that you two can barely be in the same room without starting a fight shows how deep it all goes. You sure as fuck aren’t over it–” Lorcan gave him a stern look when he opened his mouth to object, then continued, “And neither is she. You can both act like you don’t care, but you do. At some point, an olive branch needs to be extended one way or the other. Otherwise, it will stack up to messy mistakes in the field and you’ll both drag everyone else down with you. I can’t allow that. So find a truce. Wave your white flag if you fucking have to. Talk about it. Fuck it out. I don’t care. But don’t let it compromise the job.” 

 Rowan nodded, hands sliding into his pockets as he took a deep breath. All of those things were easier said than done. If they were ever going to talk it out, they would both have to come to some peace with the past and present. Right now, he wasn’t sure how to do that. His behavior had clearly torn into her with a jagged blade, the same way her leaving him did. Both had raw, gaping wounds that were still bloody from the battle. The time apart had done nothing to heal either of them. If anything, it made it worse. 

 There wasn’t ever supposed to be so much distance, time, or emotion stretched between them, to begin with. Rowan could strut around like he didn’t care all he wanted to, but he did care. Looking at her made it hard to breathe. 

 “Did you ever, at any point in your relationship, tell her about what happened to Lyria?” Lorcan asked, just as Rowan took a step toward the house. His teeth snapped together so hard that it hurt, narrowly missing a bite of his tongue. “Maybe start there.”

“I don’t think it would matter at this point.”

 “Not that I don’t think she’s a swaggering asshole ninety-nine percent of the time or anything–” Rowan snorted, looking back at Aelin through the window. She was looking back. “– But she isn’t a bitch. Not all the time, anyway.”

 Part of him wanted to throttle Lorcan for talking about her that way, but their personalities had always been mixing oil and water. Even still, Lorcan would never hold his personal relationship against her. She was far too good of an asset. 

 “Can I ask something of you?” Rowan inquired, restlessly scratching the back of his neck. His eyes didn’t leave Aelin’s, and she tilted her head curiously. Almost as if, despite their fight, she was trying to inquire if he was okay. 

 “Of course.” Rowan sidestepped out of view, not wanting her to read his lips as he looked at his commander. Lorcan leaned against the table that decorated the patio, an open and caring demeanor slipping into place. 

“If anything on this mission goes sideways, if it ever comes down to a split second when it has to be her or me… I don’t care if it’s a temporary thing where you come back for me later or we’re both bleeding out somewhere, whatever the situation is. If shit goes down and it’s her or me, you take her.” Green eyes bore fiercely into onyx ones. Lorcan’s eyes widened in surprise and something that looked a little like fear.  

“Rowan…” He wasn’t one to leave a man behind, but Rowan knew all too well that sometimes it became a necessary call to make. When forced with a split-second decision about who lived or died, the luxury of time to juggle your choices didn’t always exist. This oath would take the struggle out of it. 

 “Promise me that you will get her out first.” He hated the way his voice cracked like the fissures in his heart. Hated that he was prepared to fall to his knees and beg if it might save her life at any point in the future. Yet he knew that he would if Lorcan refused. The bad terms he and Aelin were on didn’t matter. Rowan would never forgive himself or his comrades if he woke up and something had happened to her. “Promise me, Lorcan.”

 He wished he could tell himself it was for selfish reasons. That he was asking to clear his conscience should it ever become a reality. Deep down, he knew it had nothing to do with that, though. It had nothing to do with guilt and everything to do with her and the wildfire of unresolved feelings that haunted his waking and sleeping hours. 

 Rowan tried to get over her. Attempting to lose himself through sex with other women had been a fruitless endeavor. No amount of boiling showers had made him feel clean, like any level of intimacy with someone that wasn’t Aelin left behind an oily residue he couldn’t wash away. After the third time, he quit trying. It felt too much like cheating on her, like betraying her, even if she had been the one to leave him. 

 He had followed her career over the last two and a half years. Though she had passed on another deployment when she thought he would too, months after the breakup, he heard she was back in it. Lorcan had passed him details of her missions, and Rowan had a mental list of every injury she had ever received. Nothing had been remotely close to life-threatening, but he felt every one of those wounds like they’d happened to him. It had been difficult not to follow up with her directly to see if she was okay, but she was better off without him. Of that, he was certain. 

Being part of the same unit, he would do whatever he could to protect her. It hadn’t surprised Lorcan when Rowan declared he would always choose her first the morning she arrived. The commander made him swear that it wouldn’t compromise any missions, and it wouldn’t. But for Rowan, if the choice were anyone else or Aelin, he would save Aelin first. Now he needed to be sure someone else would choose her over him. 

“Okay. I promise,” Lorcan finally swore, his eyes saying that he hoped for all the world it never came down to it.

When they made their way inside, there were two seats available. One was smack dab between Aelin and Fenrys; the other was an overstuffed chair near the window. Rowan knew for a fact that the two blondes had been sitting side by side moments earlier and knew that one or both of them had done this on purpose. They lived in a constant state of scheming and had been driving Rowan insane from the moment their friendship began.

Lorcan hijacked the chair, which left Rowan to drop onto the sofa between Bonnie and Clyde. He swore the commander was fighting off his smirk while settling into the chair away from the drama. Bastards. All of them were bastards. It was starting to feel like everyone had been part of a private meeting on the best ways to drive Rowan insane with Aelin around. 

“Here,” Aelin said softly, nudging his arm with a folder. Nodding his thanks, he flipped it open and began skimming the pages while Lorcan got into what the next few days would look like. Every breath he took was more shallow than it needed to be, but he would lose his mind if he inhaled deep enough to smell her jasmine shampoo. 

He tried to focus on Lorcan’s words, but sitting beside Aelin was a distraction in itself. The promise their commander had just made soothed a small part of his chest, even if he thought she would throttle him if she ever found out about it. The woman beside him was more than capable of taking care of herself, yes, but Rowan needed that security blanket to fall back on if things went to hell.

 Aelin nudged him with her elbow, and he blinked, looking into her quizzical gaze. It was strange to find a hint of concern hidden behind the brilliant band of gold around her iris. With a shake of his head, he looked at the folder in his lap and tuned his ears to Lorcan’s voice. Right. Now was definitely not the time to think about this. 

 They would start by surveilling the notorious Glass Castle. It was imperative they find out how easily the outside guards could be distracted and bribed. While they had inside contacts close to the prince working with them under extremely delicate conditions, they needed to see if anyone was willing to waver. Finding the weak links could lead to it all being over before an assassination attempt began.

 The Prince’s closest and really only friend was his captain of the guard. Through their contacts, he agreed to work with them on the castle’s blueprints and help them however he could. If everything went smoothly, nobody would die, lose their jobs, or be accused of treason, and in the process, their president would be safe from the fallout.

“We need to take passport photos in the morning, and someone is coming by tomorrow afternoon to stage some pictures of our Duke and Duchess over here.” Rowan and Aelin’s heads both snapped up at neck-breaking speed.

“What?” Rowan said, eyes darting to Aelin. There was no way in hell she would be okay with this.

“All of the royals in Fenharrow have websites,” she answered for Lorcan. “Do I get to wear a pretty gown?”

“You’ll wear whatever shows up, and you won’t give anybody any shit about it,” was the commander’s flat response. Aelin’s smoldering gaze told him she would do as she pleased, but her eyes wandered back down to the pages in her lap. If the wardrobe weren’t to her taste, they would surely hear about it no matter what Lorcan said.

“Box dye is going to absolutely ruin our hair.” Rowan didn’t know anything about that. According to his passport, he had blonde hair and brown eyes. Curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned a little toward Aelin to see what hers said. With a flick of her wrist, it was turned toward him so he could see better. Red hair, green eyes. Rowan had a hard time imagining it.

“Are you going to complain the whole time?” Lorcan snapped. Aelin, to her credit, grinned.

 “Maybe. It’s fun getting under everyone’s skin so easily.” 

It felt like a jab with one of the daggers she favored. A quick stab into his back, the twist of the blade as it sunk deeper. Rowan sat up straight and tried to keep from crumpling the papers in his hands.

It might not be an outright bloody war, but every vaguely altruistic word that left her mouth made him tenser than any gunfight ever did.

 ~*~

A book lay open upon the pillow in her lap, eyes skimming the pages when Rowan soundlessly opened the door and slipped into their room. He was clearly hoping she would be asleep when he came to bed to avoid any awkward interactions or heated arguments. Aelin was too tired for anything beyond a few pulled punches tonight and closed her book. The t-shirt he wore was pulled over his head in a single, fluid motion, and he slipped between the sheets. After placing her nightly read on the bedside table, she snuggled under the blankets. Rowan was on his back staring at the fan when she turned her light off. Aelin lay on her side, facing him straight on.

“This is… weird,” he admitted as the air deflated from his lungs in a deep sigh.

“Sleeping together or, however fake it may be, being married to me when you never wanted it in the first place?” Aelin wasn’t sure why flames kept spewing out of her mouth every time they spoke. Closure was what she was after, yet she knew it wouldn’t come this way. It was more of a defense mechanism than anything else.

“We aren’t doing this tonight, Aelin. I’m tired.” Rowan rolled onto his side, facing away from her, hand smacking at his pillow before he settled against it. 

Through the dim moonlight slipping through those sheer curtains, she could make out the scars on his back. Some she knew, others she didn’t. Without thinking, she reached out and touched one she didn’t recognize. Rowan’s inhale was sharp, shoulders expanding and muscles tightening beneath her fingers. As tense as he was, his body betrayed him in the form of goose flesh over his skin. 

“Rowan?” Aelin must have been imagining his jagged breaths. It sounded too much like shredding self-control to be real. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. For today, I’m sorry.” Doused in a burning tension, she traced her fingers over another pale scar on his back. Tears pricked her eyes over the featherlight touches she made, at the emotion that welled up in her throat. This sort of casual intimacy used to be second nature. Aelin hated that her fingers craved to touch more of him, all of him. They never thought about touching before; they just always were. It had once been necessary, vital even. Now he was a coiled asp ready to strike, waiting for the fighting words she couldn’t find. 

“Okay,” he finally whispered back on an exhale. 

“I didn’t mean to slam the door, either. I know you won’t believe me, but I–”

“I do believe you.” Her throat was suddenly tight as she swallowed, dropping her hand from his back. Sometime soon, she would ask how he got those new markings. Maybe Fenrys would have the answers if her cowardice won over and she couldn’t ask him herself.

“Okay,” she parroted, the word muffled by the blanket as she pulled it up and tucked her face into it. 

Seconds stretched into minutes before he rolled onto his back, head turning to face her. With her eyes more adjusted to the dark, she could tell he was looking at her. They didn’t say anything, just took each other in. It was the first quiet moment they’d shared since her arrival. Somehow, the heaviness of this moment was far more abundant than the times they were yelling.

“Were you talking about me when you said it’s fun to get under our skin?”

“I’ve always liked getting under your skin,” she teased, but he didn’t smile. Aelin’s own faltered, mouth twisted to the side as she considered it. Yes, she had. “It is fun but… I didn’t mean it quite how it sounded. I haven’t been picking fights with you the last few days for shits and giggles. I’m sure you aren’t doing it for that reason either.”

It’s what she wanted to believe, anyway. Perhaps it made her naive, but she knew Rowan. Even if they hated each other, they didn’t like causing the other unnecessary pain.

 “Why are we fighting then?” The bald vulnerability he gave had her mouth parting in surprise. Of all the ways she saw this first night going, a calm discussion was nowhere on the list. Murder definitely was, but this? 

 “I don’t think we know how to be around each other like this,” she said slowly. “We had moments of bickering when we first met, sure, but…” 

The words she wanted to say would strip her a little more bare than she wanted to be, yet she wasn’t ready to let the moment go. Rowan saw her hesitation and waited patiently, eyes scanning her face as though he could sneak into her mind and steal the thoughts for himself. Tomorrow the fires would rage again but for tonight? Tonight she would settle close to the truth without laying it all at his feet.

“But?” Aelin sighed and shook her head.

“We’ve always been intense,” she shrugged a shoulder. “Now that we aren’t in love, I guess it’s just going to be in the form of verbal sparring and screaming matches. Maybe a few physical blows during training.”

Aelin averted her eyes, slipping her fingers out from beneath the blanket to inspect her nails. It probably looked as stupid as it felt, considering she could hardly see, but Rowan didn’t call her on it. Nor did he point out how unlike her it was to balk from a conversation, yet here she was, being a coward and avoiding his gaze. It was a half-truth wrapped up in a teasing taunt at best and clearly not the answer he sought.

It wasn’t fair that he still had her tied up in so many knots. For years she paraded around, pretending she was over it and it didn’t matter anymore. Not being in love with Rowan was one of the biggest lies she’d ever told, one she whispered to herself every time she found him looking at her. It was a foolish, stupid mask she wore to hide the pain of the ugly, bleeding truth of everything. 

Rowan handled it better than she did, and it hurt more than she would ever admit. 

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