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rowanaelinn · 3 years

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Fire on Fire - Chapter five.

chapter four // chapter six

As the days merged into weeks, a routine settled in.

Aelin alternated between college, her work as TA, homework, cheer practice, her work at the bar and she didn’t have a moment to herself. She liked it that way. She knew how to manage many things at once, has been doing it for years, but she didn’t know how to handle boredom. These moments where you did nothing and you started thinking about everything in your life? Aelin didn’t know how to handle that.

For the first time in a month, Aelin had a night to herself. And instead of spending it to sleep as her body begged her to, she and Lysandra organized a party. Nothing too much, just some of their friends, music, and alcohol.

She was in the kitchen, pouring herself a drink as she talked with Chaol and Dorian. They had brought their roommate but Aelin had no idea where he was, and to be honest she didn’t really care. “I’m not joking, she knocked at our door at two in the morning.”

Aelin laughed at the situation Dorian was describing. “Well, you got to give her points for her determination.” She poured a drink to Chaol and he smiled warmly at her.

“So, how’s life here?” Dorian asked and Aelin shrugged. They had spent a lot of time together lately, they just didn’t speak much.

“Nice.”

“Nice? That’s it?” Lysandra joined them, sitting on the kitchen counter. “What about that roommate of yours, Rowan?”

“Please,” Lysandra huffed. “They’ve been giving each other the silent treatment for a month now. It’s even worse than when they yelled at each other.”

“That bad?” Dorian laughed and Aelin rolled her eyes.

“I remember a year ago, we were partying and suddenly everyone heard you scream. I turned around to see where you were and you threw your drink at his face.” Chaol laughed and she did too, remembering that night.

“You complained when we always argued and now you complain because we ignore each other. You’re so annoying.”

“It’d be okay if you were just ignoring each other. But if looks could kill, you would have killed each other long ago. I hope you realize that everyone notices.”

“What are you even doing here? Stop sleeping with my cousin.” Aelin said and Lysandra barked a laugh. She winked and wiggled her brows and Aelin had to stop thinking about them. Lysandra always had a crush on Aedion, Aelin knew that. But she wasn’t used to seeing Lysandra hanging out in this house, not to be with her but because she was with Aedion. Well, technically they weren’t together. They slept together and both of them were stupid enough not to realize the other’s feelings.

Fenrys came behind Aelin and put an arm around her shoulder. She tried to get out of his grip but he was too strong. “You four, stop isolating yourself and come play with us.”

“Depends, I’m too drunk for Twister.” It was an understatement, she barely could keep her legs from falling. She was too drunk for everything, but she liked it. With the right number of drinks, her brain stopped processing things, that’s exactly what she needed.

“Being drunk is what makes Twister worthy, Ace. But no, what about seven minutes in heaven?” He wiggled his brows and Aelin was ecstatic.

“I love seven-minute in heaven!” She almost screamed and Fenrys laughed at her enthusiasm.

“I would know,” Dorian said and she stuck her tongue at her friend, it just made them laugh harder.

“That was an awful first kiss.”

“You’re joking? We found you making out again an hour after the game.” Lysandra laughed. It had happened when they were fifteen and Aelin didn’t have a lot of memories of that night. Actually, she didn’t have a lot of memories from her teenage years.

“That’s a story I want to hear,” Fenrys said, always curious about everyone’s life.

“That’s nothing, wait until I tell you about that time she played with Rhys-”

“Stop!” Aelin screamed, throwing a spoon at her friend for him to shut up. She didn’t know what he wanted to say and that’s what worried her. She decided her brain made her forget for a reason other than alcohol, as stupid as it was.

“Rhys like Rhysand Night?” Fenrys asked, surprised.

“Yeah, Dorian and I have been friends with him and his brothers for ages now.”

Their parents all knew each other and the five of them kept meeting at parties. And while Dorian and Aelin tried to avoid the spotlight as much as they could since they turned eighteen, the three brothers left for Velaris and became either musicians or actors. Gods, she hadn’t seen them in ages now. She missed these idiots.

“You’re coming to play?” Fenrys asked and they all joined him in the living room. There weren't enough seats so Aelin just sat on Dorian’s lap. Aedion sent them a furious look but didn't comment, Aelin just rolled her eyes. Lysandra made the bottle turn and of course, it fell on Aedion. Aelin decided not to read too much on the look in her cousin’s eyes and just took another shot, ignoring them.

“Ten bucks we find them half-naked,” Lorcan said and Aelin laughed, remembering another time when she had a similar bet about her cousin. She turned her head but Lysandra wasn’t there, neither was the others. Her heart clenched at this feeling of loneliness even if she was in a room full of people.

Instead of thinking too much into it, she took another shot. When she looked in front of her, Rowan Whitethorn was watching her, a disapproving frown on his face.

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Rowan wondered why he was still looking at her when she drowned a third shot. This time her eyes didn’t leave his as she drank and she winked, leaning more into Dorian Havillard’s embrace.

He didn’t know why he had to clench his fist to avoid shaking, why seeing her now made him so angry. He had been angry all the time since that conversation a month ago, and not at her. He was sure he would wake up the morning after by Lysandra stabbing him, but none of that.

Aelin didn’t tell anyone what happened in the bathroom, and it made him so angry at her.

It made him angry that she didn’t cry to her friend and cousin the day after, asking them to defend her, like Rowan thought she would. No, the morning after she looked nothing like the woman he found in the bathroom, she didn’t look half-dead as she did the night before. No signs of the breakdown.

It made a small part of his head wonder how many times she had been in this state and nobody ever noticed. But he liked to ignore this part of him and focus on the anger.

He was glad of it as he watched Dorian’s arm curl around her waist and her arm around his shoulders. They both laughed as he held his drink to her lips, making her drink everything. Rowan finished his first drink, clearly not as drunk as the two in front of him were.

He had no idea what they were for each other, they acted like friends. Close friends, yes, but still friends. But Rowan had heard too much these past four weeks. Heard how there wasn’t any actual work every time he came here to study.

He hated her for it, hated her for being selfish and not caring about the noise. He also hated himself for noticing Dorian came here to study every time Rowan could see Aelin’s eyes lined with silver, see how her smile was a little too forced, or how her hands shook. Things that didn’t seem to be noticed by anyone else.

He hated himself for noticing, even though he tried not to, that there was no pleasure on her part. But he was probably reading too much into it, why would she keep doing it, then?

When he finally looked away from her, he found Lorcan looking at him, a weird look in his eyes. Rowan arched a brow in a silent question but his friend just looked away and joined a conversation with Fenrys.

When Aedion and Lysandra got out of the closet after Vaughan knocked on the door, Rowan fought a grin on his face at the look on Aedion’s face. He silently waved his pants so that he noticed that his zipper was open. The smile on Aedion's face did not falter as he fixed it, Rowan rolled his eyes.

“Your turn, Ace,” Lysandra said as she sat down next to her friend. Rowan found his new drink more interesting than the blonde girl turning a bottle.

“Fuck,” Dorian said.

“You’re kidding me,” it was Lorcan’s turn to speak.

Rowan looked up when Fenrys burst out laughing and his heart stopped. That fucking bottle pointed toward him. What had he done to the Gods for them to hate him so much? “do it again” He groaned. Why did he even agree to play this stupid game? He thought the worst that could happen would be being stuck with Fenrys, totally forgetting about her.

“Scared to spend time with me, Whitethorn?” Aelin arched a brow, a small smirk on her face. Rowan suddenly hated that part of him that was too proud to back down from a challenge.

“Get in that damn closet already,” He said, standing up and walking toward it, not caring if she followed or not.

When she closed the door after her, Rowan started counting in his head. Surely, seven minutes wasn't that long.

The closer was way too small for Rowan’s taste, he could feel her body brushing his in many places. “I didn’t know being so close to me disgusted you, Whitethorn.” She said after thirty-six seconds.

“So you speak, now?”

“What? You missed me?” She asked, voice full of fake sweetness. The dim light let him see her eyes fixed on him, he fought a shudder at the intensity of her gaze.

He huffed a laugh. “You wish, princess. This past month has been better than the last two years.”

“I know, living right next to me is such a delight.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge of groaning at her for the way she twisted his words. She laughed softly, her breath tickling the skin of his throat. “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?” It was better to attack her with his words than to focus on his body’s reaction to her proximity.

She made a low noise as if she was thinking very hard about her answer. “I am not, just realistic. Have you seen me? I’m amazing.”

“I don’t even think you believe that yourself,” he stated and it was true. You just had to try to see more than the facade she kept in front of everyone to see it. Rowan was surprised no one had made comments on it. He wondered if everyone noticed and decided to not say anything, as Rowan did, or if they really were that blind.

“You know nothing about me.”

“You are not hard to figure out, princess.” Lie, Rowan was a liar. It was so damn hard to find a reason for everything she did, to explain why she hid everything about her real emotions.

“Is that why you hate me so much? Because I am so easy to read?”

“You’re not important enough for me to hate you,” He said, voice low as he looked at her eyes. They were objectively beautiful, everyone would agree on that. The ring of gold around her pupil always seemed to catch fire whenever she was angry, it was his favorite part about her eyes.

What the hell happened to him? He didn’t have any favorite part of her.

She laughed softly, shifting to be more comfortable but it just brought her closer to him. He couldn’t keep his groan to himself this time, apparently for Aelin’s delight.

“You know what I think?” She asked, raising herself on her tiptoes. “You can’t stop thinking about me.” She was almost as tall as him this way, she put her hands on his shoulders to stay stable, and even if he should have brushed her hands away, he didn’t. “I think you want me, and it’s not me you hate, but yourself for wanting me.” Her thumb brushed his neck and held in the noise that threatened to come out at that touch. “I think that maybe it even makes you feel a little bit dirty to want me, and you both love and hate it.”

He pushed her to the wall, putting both of his hands on the wall on both sides of her head, blocking her from any movement. He lowered himself slightly, his lips close to her ear. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something whispered that she was right, but he ignored it. Focusing on his anger, that’s how he had always kept people at bay these past ten years. “Tell me Aelin,” he started using one of his hands to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, brushing with the tip of his fingers the sensitive spot of her skin right behind it. “Why would I want a coward?” Her whole body tensed at this and he was happy with himself.

“Shut up.”

He laughed softly, still murmuring in her ear. “Don’t like that word? Because that’s what you are, Aelin. A coward. You always run away the second it becomes hard.” He had seen Aedion take his car and go pick her up from wherever she called for help too many times. He remembered Aedion having to drive out of the damn city because she had left, and it didn’t happen only once either.

Before he could say what was in his mind she pushed him off her, with more strength than he knew she had. “Fuck you.”

“You’re just proving me right.”

“I have nothing to prove to a bastard like you.” She spat and left, slamming the door behind her. Rowan took a minute to sigh, thinking about what he said. That was true, she always ran away, but he wasn’t better. And he noticed how she struggled, he might as well have kicked a man already down.

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Aelin smiled at Dorian as she came back, hiding the fire inside of her. Everyone arched a brow, she knew it had been less than seven minutes but she would have killed him if she had stayed one more minute with that bastard.

“Will we find his dead body in the closet?” Lorcan asked, and surprisingly enough that sounded like… a joke. She might have answered in the same tone as him, might have joked with him, had Rowan not ruined her mood for the night.

“Want to be next?” She arched a brow and didn’t wait for an answer, taking Dorian’s hand and making him stand up. She didn’t comment to anyone as she dragged him up the stairs and pushed his back on the wall, not wanting to kiss him.

She needed to feel something other than that consuming rage, and needed the distraction. Dorian didn’t wait before kissing her back hungrily. His hands found her ass and pressed her closer to him. He didn’t need to bother with soft, loving, touch. It wasn’t a part of their agreement, it was just sex. Nothing else.

They had slept together twice in their teenage years even if she didn’t remember it, too high and drunk to remember anything, but they had started again three months ago. He had gotten mad at her for sleeping with however she could, telling her it was unsafe. But even if she never told him why she did it, Aelin was sure he understood. So he had told her to sleep with him instead.

It was his own way to help her, knowing he couldn’t do much else. If Aelin thought about it long enough she would cry of shame and fondness for her friend, but she didn’t think about it. It was the whole point of it, not thinking.

“Shit, sorry,” a voice interrupted them and Aelin looked surprised at Dorian and Chaol’s roommate. “I was looking for the bathroom but I couldn’t find it.”

“Downstairs,” Aelin said, breathless. “There’s only my room and my roommate’s room here.” She said but the mention of him just relieved the flame in her. The flame that begged to burn everything she tried to keep safe inside her. He nodded and smiled, walking past them.

“I’m not going home tonight, Chaol will drive you back. Is it okay with you, Cairn?” Dorian asked and when Cairn nodded and left, Dorian kissed her again.

As he took off her clothes, she focused on the feeling of him, Dorian, her friend, on her.

When his fingers found her core and started getting her ready for him, she fought against the voices in her head. You are a coward.

And as Dorian took a condom and entered her, she closed her eyes. He thrust into her hard, the way she liked it. He kissed her neck, breast, and lips. Trust me, Aelin, you will like it. She bit the inside of her cheek, not wanting to hear him. She moaned Dorian’s name as he gave her a particularly hard thrust. Let me show you what a real man can do. She shut everything out, moaning too loudly to hear anything else.

As she and Dorian climaxed, they were both breathless. He disposed of the condom and fell on the bed next to her, not hugging her but staying close to her. After a while, Dorian’s breathing calmed and she knew he fell asleep.

Aelin stood up and took a long, hot, shower. Washing away the touch of anyone on her skin. And as she often did, she wondered how long she would keep living that way. She had given up the hope of recovery a long time ago. but she still hoped that one day the pain would ease.

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#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin galathynius #fire on fire

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seasonofthewicth · 3 years

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nobody does it like you do - act 2

Thank you so much for all your reactions to part 1! I hope you enjoy part two just as much :)

CW: mentions of past minor character death (incl. a pregnant woman)

7.3k - masterlist - ao3

Her first day of shooting isn’t great. It’s not bad by a long way, but it could have easily been better. They’re on location in a forest somewhere in the outskirts of Rifthold and she didn’t even know there were places in the city like this, she’d assumed it was all the sprawling metropolis of skyscrapers and crowded streets, but apparently not.

She’s cold. There’s a machine beating down torrents of fake rain on her and Fenrys where they stand opposite each other on the muddy path through the trees, they’re filming the scene where their characters first meet. Her feet are soggy inside the canvas trainers she’s wearing and they keep spraying water on her hair to keep the wet look running throughout all of the takes and she hates it. She’s uncomfortable and stiff but she comforts herself with the knowledge that Fenrys is the same if the frown he wears whenever the camera isn’t on him is anything to go by.

It helps, barely.

She keeps having to spit water out of her mouth between lines, she swears it never rains this heavily in real life but who is she to comment, and she watches Rowan’s lips twist in displeasure where he sits behind the camera every time she does it. Aelin’s not sure what else she’s supposed to do, he can sit there out of the line of the water all fine, but she can’t speak with her mouth full.

It can take time to fall into the natural rhythm of shooting a new project, even the shitty ones she’s done in the past have shown her that, but there’s something about the way Rowan watches her that prickles the back of her neck, his stare intense and heavy as he watches, that adds the pressure. She wants to show him that she can do this. She wants his approval.

She ignores the reasons why.

After they finish and Rowan has called cut she sulks back to her trailer, she’s only just managed to change out of her sodden clothes when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Fenrys, warm and dry now in his own change of clothes.

They’ve sort of become friends recently, after swapping numbers after the table read he had texted her first. The studio has put him in the same complex as her and they’ve shared a car back there a couple of times after some of their meetings. She likes him a lot actually, and while she knows his reputation of infamy with the ladies follows him around like a bad smell, she feels comfortable with him.

“That could have gone better,” he tells her as he flops down onto the two-seater sofa at the end of her trailer, the other half has a mound of clothes dumped on it that she hasn’t bothered to sort through yet.

She just shoots him a look that she hopes says tell me about it.

“Tomorrow will be better,” he tells her, reassuringly. He would know she supposes, he has far more experience than her.

“I hope so.”

“How’re you finding it so far, working with Rowan?” he asks, and she frowns, bristling at the fact that he somehow knows the worst question to ask already. Aelin doesn’t think she’s behaved weirdly around Rowan since the day at the table read, in fact she’s tried to avoid him where possible. Maybe that’s it.

“Fine,” she says, but that’s not quite true. It messes with her in a dangerous way every time she knows he’s watching her. She should be able to turn that part of her brain off during a scene, she trained for years to learn how to do that, but he gets to her. She’s working on it.

Fenrys laughs, seeing right through her.

“He’s not bad once you get to know him, the first time we worked together I thought he was a total dick.” She gives him the same look as before as she clears the clothes and sits down next to him.

“I swear he’s not that bad. He’s just-” Fenrys pauses, weighing her up with a look, and something that he takes in from the way she stands, gnawing on her lower lip with her hair still wet, has him saying; “He’s got a lot riding on this.”

“Why?”

It doesn’t feel like he has a lot riding on this, his last piece was nominated for the Oscars, how much higher than that can you get? It’s not like he’s in the same position as her, desperately clawing herself back to a place where she can be cast in a role and it not be followed by a stunned, oh?

She knows there were articles written when her casting was announced that were doubtful of her ability to do this movie, that questioned whether she’s up to the task and whether she’s good enough to be standing next to names like Fenrys and Rowan. Some of the articles were straight up mean, and she only knows that because she searched them up like a masochist when all the ones Elide sent over were far too nice.

A dark part of herself can’t help but fall prey to some of the headlines. The ones that throw around words like nepotism, the ones that question whether Aelin is talented enough to be where she is cut deeper than any knife, and only half of it is because she sometimes wonders the same. She should be better than that, but the reminder catches in her throat that she really does have a lot riding on this.

“It’s not really my place to say.”

That’s a load of shit, and she tells him so. He only shrugs, not willing to so openly gossip about their boss.

“How well do you know him exactly?” She’s fishing for any details, but it definitely could be passed off as casual curiosity.

“He directed my debut, we keep in touch every so often.” He’s nonchalant. “He asked me to audition for this.”

“Nice humble brag.”

Fenrys only flashes her his movie star grin, in combination with the wink he throws at her it’s almost an effort not to blush.

“He wanted you cast, you know?” That she didn’t know, but it’s nice to hear.

“Why? He doesn’t know me.”

“You’re hard work, you know?” He’s joking but it doesn’t sit quite right. She knows it’s true. “Come with us tonight. There's a group of us getting dinner, and you can ask him yourself.”

It’s an olive branch. She knows it’s obvious to everyone that she’s uncomfortable, still hasn’t quite found her feet on set after taking such a break, and it’s one that she’s grateful for. No matter how closed off she knows she still seems to them.

“Okay,” she says and Fenrys’ smile is genuine and a part of her lifts, it’s a start.

They share a car to the restaurant and he fills the journey with easy chatter. She appreciates it because she feels really fucking rusty. It’s been a while since she spoke to anyone outside of her immediate circle of friends and family, and it’s always been easy with them. This is different, but not unwelcome.

Sometimes she worries that, as much as they love her, Aedion, Lysandra and Elide are inclined to tread lightly around her. She’d like to think that she’s not that fragile, that she could take the full front of their humour and teasing like she used to, but then remembers when Fenrys’ joke fell flat for her in the trailer and she thinks again.

Either way, the cast and crew here don’t treat her like she’s broken, or even breakable, and it’s refreshing.

Fenrys leads the way into the restaurant, and there’s definitely paparazzi down the street snapping away at them as they cross the short distance from the car to the door. She tries to ignore it, she’ll text Elide once they’re done here, even though Elide will probably be overjoyed. It’s probably (definitely) easier to publicise your talent when she’s out there doing things with other famous people compared to staying inside her home alone.

Fenrys greets the staff on the door and they lead them through the restaurant to a staircase at the back of the room and it leads up to a private space with only one table. Right, privacy. Some of these guys are proper celebrities.

They’re the last ones there, and there’s two seats left at the table. Manon is here, so is Rowan and one of the executive producers who she thinks is called Gavriel.

“Alright guys, you all know Aelin,” Fenrys says and she smiles as they greet her.

Fenrys holds a chair out for her, the one next to Rowan, and she slides into it as he takes the one on her other side.

Rowan offers her a quirk of his lips, one she returns as she takes him in. He’s wearing short sleeves this time and she gets a good look at the tattoo snaking the whole way down his left arm. It’s in the Old Language and she can’t read it, even though her father had spent hours trying to teach her when she was a kid, but the lettering is beautiful and neat. She wants to reach out and touch, to trace the lines that roll down his golden skin.

She doesn’t. Obviously.

A waiter comes over to take their drink orders, Fenrys gets a beer, Manon and Gavriel opt for wine, but Rowan asks for an orange juice. He’s not drinking either and she wonders if it’s related to the reason he needs this movie to go well. So she’s nosy? So what?

She sits back and observes as the conversation flows, laughing along at the easy banter that flows between the three men and the sarcastic quips Manon throws in. Fenrys clearly understated his relationship with Rowan, they seem tight and have a clear fondness for one another. It’s easy to slot herself in as the night progresses, snarking with Manon and joining in with the general light-hearted mockery of Fenrys.

She thinks maybe so far she’s got Rowan wrong.

Tonight he’s quick-witted and charming, and he makes his best effort to include her in the conversation which she appreciates. It’s a contrast to the dark and teasing side of him she’s seen so far in the hallway and the table read. Maybe he’s decided to just start again, pretend they never met before she was cast, and she can do that too.

“So, Aelin.” Manon turns the spotlight to her after a while. “Tell us the scoop. I’ve not seen you in anything for a while.”

It’s not a nasty question, Aelin can just tell from the way she asks it, nothing more than genuine curiosity lies in her tone even if the phrasing is somewhat harsh. Manon might not be the bubbliest of characters, she’s blunt and doesn’t beat around the bush, but she’s not unkind, and Aelin doubts if she knew the truth she’d ask that question in such a way.

Elide managed to keep the worst of her… career break? One could phrase it more like breakdown, out of the limelight. She somehow managed to keep the worst of it hidden, and Aelin will owe her that for the rest of her life.

All the world knows is that Sam was murdered when they were both still newbies to their respective industries, neither of them had had their big break yet, and after that she took a break. For three years.

She remembers the headlines from the time, most were in smaller magazines, Sam wasn’t famous enough to make the front pages. Her mouth tastes like bile.

Singer-Songwriter Sam Cortland, 20, murdered in random street attack in Orynth, girlfriend Aelin Ashryver unharmed and working with police to identify suspect.

No one knows she knelt there in his blood begging for him to open his eyes, not even Aedion, or Lysandra or Elide, and she blinks back the image now. Her hands are curled into fists below the table and she forces herself to uncurl them and lay them flat against her jeans.

“Yeah,” she says after clearing her throat. “I took a break from it all for a few years, but I’m back now obviously and really excited for it.”

Manon nods and Gavriel raises a glass. He’s been nothing but kind to her all night. He kind of reminds her of her father, though he’s not that old, probably not even forty yet. He’s softly spoken and counters each snarky comment from Fenrys or Manon with something softer but no less amusing.

“Good to hear,” Fenrys says with a grin, clinking his glass against Gavriel’s.

The way Rowan watches her as he raises his own glass in a toast to her, careful and without speaking, tells her he knows. At least the basics about Sam, and it seems like maybe he did google her just like she joked back at the table read.

Their meals arrive then, mercifully taking the attention away from her. She needs to find a better way to deal with the attention than shutting down, especially if this film is going to be as big as everyone thinks it will be. She should call her therapist.

She will.

Eventually.

They leave the restaurant not long after, Fenrys covering the bill, emphasising that this was a celebration and an initiation for Aelin. She almost blushes for some unknown reason at his words, but she likes it. It sounds good. Like she really is back, or at least will be.

They each give her their numbers, and she likes the way he’s in her phone now as Rowan rather than Rowan Whitethorn, it feels like he’s not just someone from work. Not just her boss.

They each say goodbye and share a series of embraces, ignoring the small group of paparazzi that follow, desperate for any kind of incriminating image of any of the five of them. It’s clear that most of them are here for Fenrys, but she still makes sure to keep her expression clear and guarded as Rowan wraps her into a one-armed hug when they leave. It’s not just for the paparazzi.

Back in her apartment, when she’s tucked up in bed knowing she should be asleep, she can’t stop herself from googling him. She’s honestly surprised she’s lasted this long.

The first few news articles to come up are all about the movie and she scrolls past them, instead pulling up his Wikipedia page and scrolling straight to the personal life section. Maybe this is the weirdest way anyone’s ever got to know a friend, but she’s intrigued and still slightly flustered by him so it will do.

The section on his personal life is relatively bare, and it doesn’t surprise her. His Instagram account alone told her pretty explicitly that he’s a private kind of guy. She almost scrolls away after the first few lines, they don’t give her much information other than the college he went to and the languages he speaks, but she reads the final few lines of the section anyway.

In March 2018 Whitethorn’s fiance, Lyria Woods, passed away as the result of a road traffic accident. The driver of the other vehicle was found to be under the influence of alcohol at the time of the accident and was later sentenced to 6 years in prison for death by dangerous driving. Woods was 12 weeks pregnant with their child at the time of the accident.

Only a couple of weeks after the Oscars that she and Lysandra watched. She does the maths and realises this is his first film since then and thinks she knows what Fenrys meant.

Fucking shit.

Her second day of shooting goes better than the first, just as Fenrys said it would.

She’s more relaxed when she crosses the set from her trailer with a coffee in hand and she thinks she knows her place a little better now, even after only one night spent with the others.

She lies back while her make up is done, chatting to the make-up artist instead of sitting silently like the day before, and she’s almost ready for the discomfort that her wet hair will bring. The weather adds to the atmosphere of the film, dark and dreary and moody, and she gets why they’re doing it, but it still sucks.

Fenrys is ready when she gets there, and while she’s not avoiding Rowan today after finding out about his… past, she just finds it difficult to look him in the eye knowing what she does. He probably wouldn’t be surprised that she knew, if it’s on Wikipedia it’s public knowledge and they have made jokes about googling each other, but she feels weird in a way that she didn’t learn it from him. It feels intrusive, or invasive, to find out about something like that through Wikipedia.

But even though they bonded somewhat last night, and he greeted her this morning with an easy hey, they’re still not close. No matter that she thinks she might want them to be. She’s trying again to ignore the way she feels drawn to him, the way her eyes seek him out without her permission.

She knows she kills the take. Knows it from the high five Fenrys slaps against her palm once Rowan’s called cut and from the swift nod he offers her when she glances towards him.

There seem to be two Rowan’s too, there’s the award winning director Rowan Whitethorn, and then just Rowan.

Rowan Whitethorn is cool and calculating and distant, quiet while he watches their scene from his place behind the camera, the big black headphones he uses pushed down around his neck. His eyes are as sharp as a hawk’s while he watches for all the minute details of their expressions and any improvements they could make. He doesn’t give her that many she’s pleased to note.

The way he instructs them is impressive, with clear directions and thoughtful analyses. She’s been here two days and she knows how he got the Oscar nomination, he’s scarily intelligent and seems to know exactly what’s off about a performance before she figures it out herself.

The other side to him, the side that is just Rowan is…

Just Rowan is the one she likes more.

She suspects the smile he gives her later, after they’ve nailed the bulk of the scene in one take and she’s being twirled around by Fenrys, comes from him.

She has two full days off in a row, and she decides the best use of her time is to go and stay with Aedion and Lysandra. Fenrys isn’t free, and the reason she is is that he has a load of solo scenes to shoot, and she doesn’t envy him at all.

Lysandra is ecstatic when she announces via a group text to her and Aedion that she’ll be at their house for lunchtime, and she loves it, but it makes her feel a little guilty. That she’s let it get to the point when her friend reacts like that at her promise of a visit is quite frankly appalling, but she finally feels as if she’s taken the first step. She’s on the bottom rung of the ladder, and it’s taken her a while, but she’s there now.

Aedion and Lysandra live in a disgustingly big house in a gated part of the suburbs, and she knows the house isn’t exactly what they would have chosen in an ideal world, it’s too big and garish and grey, but there are gates by the entrance and 24 hour security.

It still messes with her head that Aedion is that famous. Aedion. Her gangly cousin, always too tall for his own good, who used to pull her hair when they were kids and sneak her extra helpings of cake at family parties before her parents divorced. She doesn’t know that much about football, so little in fact that her dad and Aedion teased her relentlessly for years, but everyone tells her he’s good.

Like really good.

The salary he gets from the Ravens is more than enough proof.

She rings their front door bell and she can hear Lysandra’s quick steps before the big wooden door is pulled open.

Her friend is glowing. Her dark hair falls into waves near the end and her staggeringly beautiful face is free of any make-up and unblemished and dewy. She’s had time to get over the insecurities that come from being friends with Lysandra so it barely phases her as she wraps her arms around her friend.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers into Lysandra’s hair. It smells like coconut and citrus and just Lysandra.

“I missed you too. So much,” Lysandra sighs as she pulls back, dragging Aelin into the house and shutting the door.

Their hallway is grand and open but there’s a pile of their shoes by the wall and a rack of coats that make it feel more homely. There are framed photos carefully arranged on the sideboard in the entry way that show the two of them with their whole family and all of their friends.

There’s one on there of Aelin and Lysandra at eighteen, their arms thrown tightly around each other while they grin massive, excited smiles at the camera, or more likely Elide behind it. She remembers the day it was taken, Lysandra had signed to her first agency and arranged to move to Rifthold, and they had taken her out to celebrate.

It was around the same time she signed for her first movie, a tiny role with two lines and twenty seconds of screen time but it got the ball rolling with her first proper acting credit, and she’ll never forget it.

A head of golden hair pokes around the kitchen doorway at the end of the hall and she lets her cousin sweep her up into a hug, swinging her up and around so her feet dangle above the floor.

“Alien, we’ve missed you.”

A stupid nickname from when they were young, the kind of young where he thought it was hilarious to replace her name with an extraterrestrial, but it only makes her smile now, squeezing her cousin tight before he puts her back down.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve been lost without me.” She beams at them, taking a moment to soak in how it feels to be with them even as Aedion rolls his eyes. “I’ve missed you both too.”

“Lunch is ready, come on,” Aedion tells her as he takes her case and drags it through the house, leaving it by the bottom of the stairs. It’s then that she spots the frilly pink apron tied around his waist.

“Alright,” she laughs. “I can’t wait to try what the domestic goddess has in store for us.”

Peals of laughter burst out of Lysandra and she grins back at her, forever grateful that they managed to keep their relationship with each other from ever impacting on their relationship with Aelin. At first she had been worried that Aedion and Lysandra would become AedionAndLysandra and that she wouldn’t have a place left with them, but she needn’t have worried, and they worked too well together for Aelin to have ever wished for anything different.

“Gods, shut up,” he mutters, slinging an arm around her shoulders and leading her to the kitchen. “So annoying, both of you.”

She grins as she hears Lysandra smack an overly dramatic kiss to his cheek.

Aedion’s a surprisingly good cook, the lunch he’s made is tasty despite being carefully planned to fit into both his and Lysandra’s strict meal plans. If they’re the cost needed to be able to live in a house like this, Aelin doesn’t want it.

“So,” Aedion says after he’s finished chewing a mouthful. “How are things going?”

He asks it with a gentle kind of sensitivity that she understands what he’s really asking. She knows it’s code for are you still sober? but she also knows he hasn’t asked it because he doubts her. Aedion and Lysandra have always been in her corner, even in her darkest moments they were there.

She never wants to put them through anything like that ever again. Never wants them to experience anything as terrifying as the last night she ever touched a drug. That night, almost a year ago now, will forever be the bottom of her pit. She doesn’t remember much of it, other than the devastation on Aedion’s face as he carried her out of the men’s toilets of a seedy nightclub in Perranth. The way he’d bitten his lip as he picked her up off the sticky floor, pulling the hem of her dress down to cover her underwear where it had ridden up.

The thought makes her sick.

He’d had to skip a game, leading to a bollocking from his coach, but he’d done it for her. Had carried her out of the club and into a car, waiting to take them back to his house. Lysandra had stroked her hair where she lay on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor while Aedion called a doctor to the house. Even through his panic he had thought of her and how little she would want it publicised that she’d been pulled out of a club, off her fucking rocker on whatever substance she’d been given by the lowlives she had fallen in with. She’s really, really lucky that for once Aedion hadn’t been followed by paparazzi.

She takes a sip of her sparkling water before she answers, it feels like all she ever drinks these days and it tastes like shit but it’s worth it if she never reverts back to where she was.

“I’m good.” She’s almost surprised to find that it’s true. “I’m feeling much better.”

She can barely look at them, can barely take the level of subdued joy on their faces.

“We’re glad Aelin, really glad.” Lysandra’s voice is sincere.

“So, how’s the new project going?” Aedion asks her, sensing her discomfort almost immediately.

“That’s good too actually.” It is. It feels good to have something positive to focus on, something that she feels is productive and worth doing. “It’s nice to be back and be busy even if the morning shoots begin disgustingly early. It’s good to be on set, surrounded by it all again and to remember that I can actually do this.”

She stabs her fork through a piece of tomato a little aggressively as she finishes and the look Lysandra shoots her tells her she’s not impressed with the self-deprecation but that she’ll let it slide for now.

“And Fenrys Moonbeam, is he really that good looking in real life?”

Aelin laughs. “More actually, sometimes it's too much.”

“Nice,” Lysandra nods appreciatively.

“Is he alright though?” Ever the overprotective older brother figure, she expected some version of this question from Aedion.

“He’s great. He’s hilarious and it really helps on the long days,” she says before taking her next bite.

“And Rowan Whitethorn’s directing isn’t he? What’s he like?”

Aelin blinks and finishes chewing slowly. “He’s… fine.”

She knows she’s fucked it when Aedion and Lysandra share a look, matching smirks beginning on each of their faces.

“Fine,” Lysandra repeats. “What exactly does fine mean Aelin?”

She purses her lips. “He’s a great director.”

Lysandra rolls her eyes. “And?”

She could probably lie here, they’d probably let it slide if she said some bullshit about how they’ve not spoken much and how she barely knows him, but she honestly needs to talk to someone about this. You know, to set her straight.

“And he’s really hot.”

She’s blushing as Lysandra laughs and Aedion chuckles.

“You’ve got a crush,” Lysandra sing-songs, and when she doesn't respond she says, “Have you got a picture of him? I don’t think I actually know what he looks like.”

She can’t blame Lysandra for that, she’s still kicking herself for not recognising him that day in the hallway, but he was only on screen for a few seconds at the Oscars and it wasn’t long after Sam so it wasn’t like she was paying attention in that way. She still thinks she should have noticed.

She pulls her phone out to find the only picture she has on there with Rowan. She had only taken it this week when they were eating breakfast with Fenrys one morning, in one of the tents that had been set up for them to sit in between takes, and Fenrys had pulled his phone out to snap a photo of her for his Instagram story.

She’d been wrapped up in one of the huge parkas they’re given for the times in between scenes holding her croissant high up in the air when he’d taken it. He’d captioned it she could have dropped her croissant and tagged her, and she’d gained a good few thousand followers. She’s almost at a million and they’re only a couple of weeks into shooting.

She had taken one of him in response and then spun around to force Rowan into a selfie with her, he’d protested but she’d pouted until he relented, grumbling something about actors that she knew he didn’t mean. She didn’t post it anywhere, she kept it to herself and she can’t lie, she’s looked at it way too many times since.

She’s smiling a wide smile, cheeks stuffed full of her croissant and it’s really kind of gross, but the small smile on Rowan’s face makes it bearable. More than bearable, she has to resist the temptation to make it her lock screen because that would be weird.

She remembers the heat of his chest where he had stood behind her to lean down so their faces were level, the hand he rested on her shoulder to steady himself and the way his fingers had brushed against her neck in the lightest caress.

She hands the phone over to Lysandra and wants to pull it back almost immediately.

It’s not that she’s embarrassed or whatever, even if they think it’s a bad idea they’d let her down gently, it's just that their opinion matters to her a lot. And while they haven’t exactly approved of her string of random hookups in the years since Sam, they’ve never tried to comment on it other than to check she’s in a good place with it, but she knows they’re waiting for the next person she sees seriously.

There’s a fairly large part of her that thinks her first relationship since Sam shouldn’t be with her boss. And that fucks her up a bit, because since when was she considering a relationship with him?

“Oh yeah,” Lysandra says, scaring away the intrusive thought and raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. “He’s hot alright.”

Aedion nods along, peering over Lysandra’s shoulder. Lysandra’s eyes are far too knowing when she looks back up at Aelin and passes the phone over. She doesn’t say a word before locking the phone and sliding it back into her pocket.

“You’ll have to invite us to set sometime.” Lysandra is sneaky but not subtle.

“I will,” she agrees.

The next week flies by, she shoots every single day but one, and she’s far too exhausted each night to do anything other than scrounge up a measly meal that can be pulled together from her cupboard basics and the limited vegetables in her fridge before falling straight asleep. They’ve made good progress so far, and she knows it's going to be good, but she’s tired.

She’s seen a lot more of the process outside of her own character by now too, and she’s amazed, but not surprised, when she persuades one of the crew to let her watch back one of Fenrys’ solo scenes from the previous week. He’s a phenomenal actor, that much is clear, but she had allowed herself to get caught up in Fenrys as her friend, the happy and funny guy she spends her time with, forgetting the talented and driven lead actor of their movie.

Not that she can forget it in the scenes they share, but she’s mostly concentrating on the emotions her character is going through, and responding to what Fenrys gives her. It almost feels too natural for him, and she forgets that it takes work.

His text meets her at lunchtime on the Sunday they both have off, when she’s still in her pyjamas on the couch, debating whether to start a new series or watch the latest cheesy rom-com that Netflix has released.

She auditioned for one of them a couple of years ago, and she’s far enough past the bitterness that comes with not getting the role that she could enjoy it. Maybe a little, cynical part of herself thinks she’s glad she didn’t get it. What she has now is far better. She’s being a snob, but she straight up doesn’t care. It’s not like anyone else is here to judge her.

Fancy coming to Rowan’s to watch the game? I’m leaving in 20 his text reads.

She didn’t plan on doing anything today, but the invitation sparks something in her, and she’s never been to Rowan’s place before. The studio put him in a house about thirty minutes from set, and she’s curious. How much luxury does the big name director get compared to what she and Fenrys have got? She’s lucky really, that Dorian managed to negotiate the same for her as they offered Fenrys.

rowan’s??? She replies, followed by what game????

She gets up off the couch, putting the lid on the tub of yoghurt she was tucking into with a spoon and walking through to the kitchen to throw it back into the fridge.

Tall, grumpy guy that bosses us around all the time comes through a minute later and she grins at her phone at the description. It’s followed up by Ravens v Panthers.

She taps out, getting changed will be ready in 15 and he replies with three smiling emojis.

She doesn’t think it will be anything fancy if her impromptu invitation is anything to go by so she only swaps her pyjama bottoms with tiny cartoon sheep down the legs for a pair of black leggings and throws a sweatshirt over her oversized t-shirt.

Manon is there when they get there, sprawled across the two seater sofa at the far side of Rowan’s living room, and she gives them both a wave when they enter the room. The house is a pretty modest, two-up two-down in a sweet neighbourhood and it’s cosy inside with relatively modern decor. She doesn’t know for sure whether or not that fits Rowan, but she feels like it does.

He doesn’t let them in, Fenrys swings the door open and marches in like it’s his own place and she wonders how much he and Rowan have hung out, or whether that’s just him. Rowan appears in the doorway about a minute after they come in, a bowl of snacks in his hand that she thinks could be popcorn and he puts it down before coming over to wrap Fenrys in a hug. They slap each other on the back in the way that guys do before pulling back.

Aelin stands at Fenrys’ side watching the exchange, unsure whether to greet Rowan or just take a seat, and once they’re done he seems to regard her with the same sort of uncertainty. Fenrys darts around Rowan to throw himself onto the other sofa and she doesn’t give herself long enough to doubt her decision before she opens her arms and steps towards him.

“Hey,” he says simply as he wraps her into a brief hug. “Thanks for coming.”

She wraps her arms around his own broad shoulders, and it feels nice. He’s warm and strong beneath her hands and the way his arms loop around her waist, so far his hands reach back around to her stomach, gets her in a way that she really doesn’t need to think about. It feels really good pressed up against him like that.

“Hey,” she breathes as he pulls back, and she knows he sees the blush on her cheeks. She’s not fifteen, she really needs to sort herself out. “Thanks for having us.”

“Of course, make yourself at home.” He gives her another half smile, offering a flash of his straight, white teeth, and again she’s struck by him. That his place is behind the camera is a crime. “I’ve got more snacks and drinks in the kitchen if you want.”

“Beer?” Fenrys asks her, already heading to a door that she assumes leads to the kitchen.

She shakes her head, “do you have sparkling water?” She directs the question to Rowan who nods.

He doesn’t have to speak before Fenrys says “on it,” and leaves the room.

She assesses the seating choices left in the room, there’s a cream two-seater sofa opposite where Manon lies, and that’s probably her best bet, but Rowan has already taken his seat on it, an ankle crossed over a knee as he settles into the cushions. There’s plenty of room to sit by him and not touch, and she weighs it up against having to ask Manon to move.

She’s friendly with the girl, but still feels slightly intimidated by the calculating and sarcastic blonde despite the fact that she’s a few years younger than Aelin herself, so maybe Rowan is the safer choice.

Fenrys comes back into the room just as she takes her seat.

“Move your feet, Blackbeak,” he demands as he hands her a glass of sparkling water, it’s chilled with a couple of cubes of ice and she appreciates it.

Manon lifts her legs for Fenrys to sit, but plops her legs back down across his lap immediately and sticks her tongue out at him as she does. Aelin feels herself smile at the display, and the fact that she’s included in this circle of friends. She hasn’t really made an effort with anyone new since Sam, the only people she’s really spoken to are Elide, Lysandra and Aedion, and they were all there for her before Sam. It feels really damn good.

She really, really, doesn’t understand the rules of football, but it’s easy enough to cheer along when the others do and laugh at their outrage when something doesn’t go their way. It’s the most animated she’s seen Rowan so far, and she’s not quite sure which way their allegiances lie, but it’s probably with the Ravens being in Rifthold and all, and she knows her own is.

Everytime Aedion gets the ball or is shown on screen she can’t hold back the cheers. She’s proud of him and she knows how hard he works to be as good as he is, and even knowing as little as she does, it's special to watch him excel.

Rowan and Fenrys both seem a little starstruck that he’s her cousin, to her he’s just Aedion and they’re the real, scary celebrities, but they gush about him like starstruck little boys.

“And you were at his house last weekend?” Fenrys cries, almost outraged that this is the first he’s ever heard of it, but honestly? They’re both Ashryvers; it’s not like it's a secret.

“Yes,” she laughs. “He’s basically like my brother.”

“Gods, Aelin.” He sounds almost pained that she hasn’t brought this up before. “You've been holding out on us! Please give me his number or introduce me or something.”

“Sorry.” She laughs again and throws a smile to Rowan that he returns with another quirk of his lips. “Invite me earlier next time and I’ll ask him to sort a box for us at the stadium.”

“Seriously?” Even Rowan sounds awed now.

“Yeah, just let me know,” she says. “It’s no big deal.”

It really wouldn't be, Aedion has been telling her for years to invite any friends she wants to games, she would just need some friends outside of him, Lysandra and Elide first.

“It’s definitely a big deal,” he says, watching her with a smirk still playing on his lips.

She shrugs. “Just make sure you text me early next time.”

“Oh, I will,” he says, and she has to look away from him. The way his voice curves around the words, all low and intense, is definitely about more than just the game.

She tries to pass it off as just looking to where Fenrys is cheering loudly at the next play, but Manon is there again, looking at her with such a knowing expression that she immediately focuses back on the TV.

At half time she needs to use the bathroom and Rowan gives her a quick rundown of the layout of the house. She’s quick to do her thing and runs by the kitchen afterwards to grab a refill of her drink and find something to eat.

Rowan had told them all to help themselves, explaining that he felt they had as much right as he to poke through the cupboards in the only just filled rental property and she gets it. The places the studio rent out for them are nice enough, and she’s more than grateful that they do, but it’s never quite home. Even if her home is somewhat impersonal, it’s still home.

She’s on her tiptoes, scanning through the relatively well stocked cupboards on the hunt for anything chocolate, when someone enters the kitchen behind her.

“I know I said help yourselves, but you’re going to eat me out of house and home at this rate.”

It’s Rowan, and he leans against the doorframe as he watches her startle and spin to face him, his legs are crossed at the ankles and his arms are folded over his chest. The pose highlights his powerful arms that she wants to be wrapped up in again and he looks really good in the dim lighting of the kitchen. It bounces off the lines of his tattoo, shining and highlighting the swirls that she can barely look away. She wants to ask what it means.

Aelin scoffs and pushes the cupboard door shut gently, they’re not eating that much and if they are it’s definitely not her, Fenrys and Manon are another story.

“There’s nothing stopping you from kicking us all out,” she says and he laughs, shaking his head.

He tilts his head to the side, his gaze picking her apart by the second before he says “maybe not all of you.”

His words and the way he shifts in the doorway as his eyes run her up and down gives her the confidence to bite her lip and look up at him through her lashes. He pushes off the door frame and comes to lean against the counter by her side.

He opens a cupboard door on her other side and rummages through a shelf before handing her a foil packet.

“I have a feeling this is what you were after.”

She accepts the chocolate and tucks it onto the counter at her side as she mirrors him and leans against it too.

“Unsurprisingly, you’d be correct.”

He presses his lips together before his lips twist again, it’s the same expression from before that she knows means he wants to smile but he can’t quite commit, and she feels her body loosen like she wants to lean forward to press into him. She doesn’t though.

What she does instead is take a sharp breath and a step back. “Thanks.” She waves the bar of chocolate in the air before stepping around him and making her way back into the living room, forcing her steps to seem calm and collected as she feels his gaze heavy on her back.

“Anytime.” His words follow her out of the room, they’re a promise.

Luckily, Fenrys and Manon both ignore it when Rowan follows her and retakes his place next to her.

#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin au #ndilyd #nobody does it like you do #cw: minor character death

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elentiyawhitethorn · 4 years

Text

Sneaking Around | Chapter Twelve

Lysandra’s POV

Lysandra was not giving up. There was no way Aelin was going to reveal her boyfriend before Lys caught them, that she would make certain of. Aelin was smart, very smart. But Lysandra was smarter.

Their office building was not a particularly large one. Not that it wasn’t still many, many people, but she would take all the help she could get.

The bar wouldn’t have fit everybody; they must have only invited certain departments or something; Lysandra couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered; Lys had the guest list.

The bar was rather sizable. It had been reserved for the night, and dozens of people had attended. Only half were men (thank the Gods Aelin wasn’t bi) and these men were then narrowed down.

Aedion had been crossed off the list of course, being Aelin’s brother. The twins and Rowan were with Lys when Aelin got her alibi checked, so there was no way it could be them. Snooping had found one employee on vacation during a time she knew Aelin was at the mystery man’s place.

Lysandra was methodical and believed in exhausting all possibilities, but she was getting desperate. She decided to eliminate the men in a known relationship. She doubted Aelin would carry on with a cheater, and she certainly wouldn’t bring him to a party as her date.

Elide was the receptionist; despite her sweet nature, she knew all the gossip. Lys had coerced her into coming over last night, the only person to show up to her gathering. They had used Elide’s pool of knowledge to eliminate Chaol, Aelin’s ex who was now dating someone named Yrene; Nox, dating some girl whose name they didn’t know; and Ress, newly engaged.

The list being significantly smaller than when it was first made, Lysandra then called all the remaining men and questined them while Elide tried to muffle her giggling in the background.

Laying in bed the next morning, Lysandra thought of those conversations.

“Hello Tern, it’s Lysandra from security. It’s been so long since we’ve talked, and I was just wondering what plans you have for the holidays.”

A dozen phone calls later, Lysandra was stumped. Why? Because every single one of them was going to their parents’.

Yes, they might have lied. But if that was the case, she couldn’t trust a single conversation. She had gone over every possibility with Elide and they had agreed: it was time for a stakeout.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Elide asked, sitting next to Lysandra in the latter’s car in Aelin’s parking lot the night after yesterday’s meeting.

Lys rolled her eyes. “Of course it is. We agree we need to find out who it is. So close to the party - and to you leaving for your parents’ place with Lorcan - lists just aren’t going to cut it anymore. I honestly wish I’d done this sooner. And if you’re going to have doubts, walk home and I’ll do it myself.”

“No, no, I’ll stay.” When Lysandra grinned at Elide, El elaborated, “Just to keep matters in control if you insist on doing it even if I leave.”

“If you say so.” Lys knew Elide just had to find out almost as much as she did, and her paltry excuses weren’t cutting it.

“Um. What now? Do you even know?”

Lysandra giggled. “I work in security. Of course I know.”

“Does the security department usually involve themselves in stakeouts?”

“Well, no, but... It can’t be too hard to figure it out. We just sit. And watch. And wait.”

Elide frowned. “I have to pee.”

A sigh from Lysandra. “There’s a gas station down the street if it’s an emergency. Otherwise, suck it up.”

“If Aelin’s car isn’t here, why are we expecting her boyfriend to show up?”

“She might have a change of clothes or whatever, but even so, Aelin can’t stay there forever. She might come back, whether it’s to stay or pick something up or whatever. If the dude isn’t with her, we’ll follow her when she leaves again.”

“Do you do that in the security department too?” asked Elide with a smirk. Who knew sweet El was even capable of smirking?

“Shut up. Job or no, I am a pro. I watch true crime.”

Elide giggled. “You’re so weird.”

“What, it’s good. And let’s be honest, we’ve been waiting for ten minutes and we’re both bored out of our minds. Let’s try to figure out the situation.”

Before Elide could ask what she was talking about, Lys pulled out her phone and pressed Ansel’s contact. She put the phone on speaker so Elide could hear as it rung.

“Hi Lys. What’s up?”

“Hey Ansel. I’ve been watching reality TV for three hours and I need a good gossip. I’m assuming you won’t tell me about MM?”

“MM?”

“Mystery Man. My new moniker for him.”

“Oh. No, certainly not. I will say, though, that Fenrys just left and last night Aelin and MM came to watch a movie with us.”

Elide gasped and Lys elbowed her. “Is that so? How was it?”

Ansel laughed. “If was fine for the most part. They made out for, like, ten straight minutes though. Either they wanted to annoy me or they’re the horniest couple I’ve met. Or maybe both.”

Lysandra frowned. “I can’t believe I wasn’t there. You and Fen really watched a movie with them?” Before Ansel could reply, Lys continued. “She’s at his place now, I’m guessing?”

“Where else?” Ansel sounded exasperated. “I don’t see her on weekends. I might not even see her until after Christmas now. I’m not much better, though. I’ve spent the last few days with Fenrys.”

Trying to steer the conversation back on track, Lysandra said, “She’ll be there for a while, I’m guessing?”

“I have no clue. Actually, wait, I think she’s coming sometime tonight to get her laptop. She wants to get some work done and she forgot it.” Interesting. “I hope you’re not considering a stakeout,” Ansel teasingly said. “We were worrying about that last night. Oh, wait, I hope I didn’t just give you any ideas.”

Lysandra laughed. “I not desperate enough for a stakeout just yet. Gods, that would be so boring.” Elide covered her mouth, probably to avoid laughing.

The two good-naturedly chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up.

“So,” said Lys. “Aelin’s coming tonight. We are very lucky people.”

“Yes we are. Shit, I really have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Lysandra dug out some dollar bills and handed them to Elide. “Get some snacks while you’re at it. I’m starving. I feel so stupid for forgetting food. That’s the number one rule of having a stakeout.”

One hour later, Lysandra was just nearing the bottom of a Cheetos bag when a familiar car pulled into the parking lot.

“Duck,” Lys whispered to Elide.

Elide complied, and then asked, “Why are we whispering?”

“It’s cooler. Okay, I don’t see anyone else in the car. It’s hard to tell because it’s so dark, but yeah, just Aelin. So we wait until she drives off and then we follow.”

“I feel like this is illegal,” commented Elide.

“It might be.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

Lysandra smiled wickedly. “I haven’t felt so exhilarated in years. We need to do this more often.”

Elide giggled at this. “I feel like some sort of private detective.”

Just then, Aelin emerged from the staircase. Lysandra waited until she had driven a fair distance before pulling out after her. The dark was advantageous in that Aelin wouldn’t see them well.

They soon pulled up at a different parking lot. There was something about this place that Lysandra recognized, but in the dark it was impossible to tell.

“Is it just me, or is this place familiar?” Elide wondered.

“You’ve just voiced my own thoughts. Maybe we’ll realize what it is when it’s light.”

“Um, are we going to be here that long?”

“We can’t just follow her in.”

“Why not?”

Lysandra frowned. “I want to see that smirk wiped off her face when she thinks she’s won but realizes we already knew. That requires more patience than barging in there. Anyways, we’ve lost her, and we can’t very well knock on every door.”

“Why not?”

“Stop asking questions. We just can’t.”

A sigh from Elide. “Pass me the gummy bears.”

They stayed up all night. Telling stories, pinching each other, whatever it took. Lysandra even ran down to another gas station and grabbed some coffees.

Lysandra was telling a particularly ghastly story about Lorcan, and Elide was gasping about her boyfriend’s uncouth behavior, when Lysandra spotted a figure out of the corner of her eye.

People had been walking by all morning (dawn had just passed), so Lys wasn’t expecting it to be anyone important. But what she saw had her dropping her jaw. “Holy. Fucking. Gods.”

“What?” Elide turned and gasped. “Ohmigosh ohmigosh ohmigosh-”

Lysandra clapped a hand over Elide’s mouth. “Hush. They’ll hear.”

She pulled out her cell phone and snapped a picture. Of Aelin with her tongue jammed down Rowan Whitethorn’s throat and his hand on her ass. Holy hell. Another picture as they broke apart, where both faces were clearly visible.

Elide appeared to be trying not to scream. “But. I can’t. They hate each other!”

“Apparently not anymore,” was Lysandra’s dry reply.

Rowan reached for Aelin’s arm and walked with her to his own car. Maybe out to one of the cafes Aelin liked to frequent.

Lys and Elide had been very lucky that Aelin had gone home last night, and now that she and MM - Rowan - were going out somewhere now. And that they had decide to make out right in the line of Lysandra’s phone camera. Yes, they had been very lucky indeed.

“Now what?” asked Elide, seeming to have calmed down.

“Now we swear everyone to secrecy and tell them, just to spite those two-faced worms. Rowan went to my first meeting, you know. A spy, no doubt.”

“We tell everybody?”

Lysandra thought for a minute. “Well, Ansel and Fenrys already know, not to mention they might tattle. I suppose I’ll take mercy on Aelin and let her tell Aedion herself. I want to see Manon’s reaction at the party, so we’ll leave her out of it. Vaughan already left for the holidays, so he’ll have to find out later. Lorcan, Gavriel, and Connall we’ll tell though.”

“Okay.”

The three men were called and told they needed to come to Lysandra’s apartment immediately. They were all instructed not to tell anyone of their whereabouts.

Gathered in Lys’ small living room not too much later, Lorcan said, “Alright, do I really need to ask you ladies why we’re here?”

Elide smiled. “We have news.”

“But,” Lys intervened, “None of you may share this information with anyone. Not a single soul.”

“Why?” asked Connall.

“Just swear it,” Elide commanded.

Lysandra added with a smirk, “On your lives.”

They all rolled their eyes, but swore to stay quiet.

“We know who Aelin’s been sneaking around with,” Elide dramatically announced.

The men had various reactions: Connall gasped, Lorcan smirked, and Gavriel sighed. “Do I even want to know how you’ve come about this information?” asked Gav.

“No, you most certainly do not,” Lys replied. Then she pulled out her phone and showed them the first picture of Aelin and Rowan making out. The angle wasn’t as good as what Lys and Elide had been able to see, so the only distinguishable feature was the hair. While typically silver, Rowan’s hair had caught the light, making it more blonde-like. That did little to narrow down the suspects. They still couldn’t tell who Aelin was with.

“Um, very exciting, but who exactly is that?” questioned Connall.

Wordlessly, Lysandra swiped the screen, moving on to the photo of Aelin and Rowan pulling back and looking at each other.

Shocked expressions graced all of their faces. “What the freakin’ hell. What the holy fucking shit. What the-”

Lorcan was interrupted from his tirade by Gavriel, who just said, “Wow.”

Connall started to laugh darkly. “Those fucking assholes. I’m going to beat the shit out of them. And my brother. Shit, my brother knew?”

Elide smiled. “Yes, I’m afraid both Fenrys and Ansel were aware. They even watched a movie with the two of them a couple days ago.”

“Traitorous pieces of shit. You know, I think I’m content to watch this play out. Aedion doesn’t know?” Connall asked.

“No,” answered Lys with a smile on her face. “And don’t worry,” she added. “I’ll fill you all in on the details of the party. I can’t wait.”

#rowaelin #tog #sneaking around #my writing

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bookocd · 4 years

Text

Light As Air Chapter 6

Hi guys! I know I haven’t updated in a while, but I’m in the middle of a school semester and with my son just learning how to walk things have been hectic. With that said I’m super excited for the chapter after this and I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and the next :) Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Tag List:

@wxstedhexrt

@power-of-words23

Summary:

In the aftermath of Kingdom of Ash, Fenrys finds himself connected with a mysteriously powerful fae female. With the confusion of her past and vast amount of power, the Aelin’s court becomes weary of Fenrys’s involvement.

Fenrys is still reeling after Connall’s death and while joining Aelin’s court has been a dream, his nightmares are still plagued by Maeve.

Vel will do anything to get the help she needs, but her past controls her emotions, and her hopes for the future clouds her judgement.

Maybe together they can mend what has been broken, but Vel’s strange origins will continue to keep them apart.

Link to Master List!

Chapter 6:

Vel felt strange wearing clothes that actually fit her.

After falling asleep immediately, with one less pillow on the bed, she woke up to a plate of food sitting on a new table along with a wooden chair. The table was placed in-between the two window, which had a beautiful view of the mountains. The food was amazing, bacon, eggs, and toast, which was better than anything she or her family had ever made. No matter the amount of cook books her father could find, cooking was never his or her strong suit.

Fenrys came to her at every meal, inviting her to join the royal court, and she fabricated reasons to deny every single time. She was surprised at her own creativity, but it became plainly obvious she was lying when her excuse at breakfast was that her stomach hurt, but he caught her doing pushups when he came with comfort food at lunch. He left the room in a huff and in the evening Fenrys had come back and all but threatened to throw her out of a window if she didn’t come down to the great hall for dinner. He also came with something new for her to wear and a comment about her own clothing being lost, which was utter bullshit.

Hence why she was wearing clothing that finally fit.

She felt more confident in the clothing, but she still fussed at the tan pants and black shirt, as Fenrys led her through the castles hallways.

“Why do you look so uncomfortable? Are the clothes not to your liking?” Fenrys must have noticed her pulling at the shirt.

“No no,” she huffed out a breath. For some reason she wanted to talk to him, to let him know why she was fidgeting. “Do you want me to be honest?”

“Always,” the sincerity in his voice was actually believable.

“I’ve never worn clothes that actually fit me,” she said quietly. The continued the walk in silence and when she finally had the nerve to look at him, he was already staring at her. He didn’t have a look of pity, which is what she was worried for, but one of pure curiosity.

“Well I’m sure the boys you met went crazy with you in ill-fitting clothes, so you probably saved yourself some riots,” he said with a cheeky grin.

She couldn’t help the snort that rose from her and the incredulous look. The truth was on her tongue. The fact that she had not met anyone outside of her family until a couple of years ago, or that she pretended she was a male for all of those outings. Come to think of it, her longest conversations with someone outside of her family, who knew she was a female, were with Fenrys. At that thought, which warmed her cheeks, she opted to stay silent.

Fenrys led her to a set of double doors and stopped. Not waiting for him, she took a deep breath and went to grip the handle, but Fenrys grabbed her wrist and turned her toward him. His lips were turned down and he seemed conflicted.

“I want you to know that the moment you want to leave, I will walk you back to your room. While this court is full of my family and friends, they are… opinionated,” he cringed slightly and Vel could tell that was the nicest word he could come up with. “Even with their extreme personalities you have at least one ally at all times. No matter who says what, I will always be in your corner to help and defend you.”

She was moved by his words and he still had a hold on her hand. As she stared at him, his face started to lighten and his thumb started to rub circles on the protruding misshapen bones of her hands. It was his lack of reaction that stirred her into a panic. She needed to keep him at arms length and never wanted to be seen as weak.

She forcibly removed her hand from his hold.

“I can defend myself,” she said and immediately regretted it. His small smile vanished.

“I know you can sweetheart, but you will be severely outnumbered in there.”

Then she found herself smirking, her face changing into the mask she wore so well. His eyes widened at whatever her face was expressing, but not even he knew the extent of her own training or what she was capable of when provoked.

“You know nothing.” She turned away from him and opened the double doors.

—

Fenrys was more confused than ever. This female was a giant question mark. He had seen her scared, panicked, calm, confident, and he also had seen kindness, pain, sincerity, and empathy, but the female that just looked at him wasn’t any of those things. She looked almost ominous, with a viscous smirk and her eyes wandering to each person in the room. He didn’t even know her real name, but he knew that this act wasn’t real, she was playing the part she thought was required to survive.

Fenrys quickly followed her into the great hall. There was a large rectangular table in the center of the room, where every member of his court was now siting, except for Lorcan and Ren, who were both probably sulking somewhere. No one sat at the head, so the center of the table was very crowded. Aelin and Rowan sat the farthest away from the door and both halted their forks as Vel walked forward and suddenly stopped when she caught sight of Lysandra. The shifter was the lounging in her snow leopard form, purring, while being pet by Aedion. She was literally laying on the table. Fenrys was only glad that the shock of seeing Lysandra had taken the intense look off Vel’s face.

“Vel meet Lady Lysandra,” Fenrys said, while putting a hand on the small of her back. The cat inclined her head slightly and then went right back to her cat nap. “And the one petting her is Aedion,” Fenrys continued as they made their way toward an open seat. “You know Aelin and Rowan,” he nodded his head at the couple. Vel gave them a small smile, but it was gone within a second. She took a seat next to Elide, who introduced herself and started some small talk. Fenrys took that opportunity to make two plates of food for him and Vel. He grabbed chicken, vegetables, and bread. Taking the seat across from Vel, he slid the plate toward her. She murmured a thank you.

The room was filled with silence. The only sound was that of forks against plates and chewing. Fenrys didn’t know what to do. This court was many things, but quiet was not one of them.

Fenrys was about to open his mouth, to say what, he had no idea, but it was abruptly cut off by the door opening once more.

Lorcan walked through and halted only a foot inside the room. His eyes were wide and wildly moving between Elide and Vel.

“Why in the hell is that female sitting next to Elide?” He spat out the word female, and Fenrys body heat spiked at the tone.

“Where did you want her to sit Lorcan?” Aelin asked with her brows raised.

“Preferably in a cell,” he said quietly, never taking his eyes off Vel.

Fenrys almost started in on him until he saw Vel. She was sitting at her seat, and still eating her food, completely ignoring Lorcan in his entirety. She must have felt Fen’s eyes, because she finally looked up from her plate.

His gaze must have held only questions, because she said, “What? I don’t respond well to stupidity.”

Silence filled the room again, and Fenrys was sure the room had not felt this type of atmosphere since the end of the war. It wasn’t until Elide, Elide, started to chuckle that the tension broke.

She gazed lovingly at her future husband and said, “She’s got you there Lor.”

Lorcan didn’t look amused as he moved forward to sit on Elide’s other side. He stopped only slightly as he passed Vel. Fenrys could barely make out what he said.

“You even touch her and I will fucking kill you.”

Vel did react to that. Her whole body went stiff and she halted her chewing. Fenrys’s fear for what she would do overcame his anger toward Lorcan.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Lorcan stopped dead in his tracks at Vel’s gravely words.

The whole room froze.

“What did you say?” Lorcan’s question came out as a growl. With a noise like that, Fenrys was left wondering how the male didn’t have an animal form.

“I said do not make promises or threats that you can’t fucking keep,” Vel answered, her dark eyes near glowing.

“Okay guys this is—”

Aedion’s reasoning was cut off by Aelin. “No. I want to see this play out.”

“Aelin!” Fenrys found himself shouting.

Vel and Lorcan were staring at each other. Lysandra looked like she was ready to pounce. Rowan and Aedion were giving Aelin a “what the fuck” gaze, and Elide seemed absolutely terrified.

One step from Lorcan was all it took for Vel. She was out of her seat faster than Fen had even seen anyone physically move. Fen found himself standing as well, trying to gauge the situation unfolding in front of him, but for some reason he wasn’t scared. He had this sudden sense that Vel could take care of herself, so the only emotion left was anger. Anger for how much of a fucking idiot Lorcan was.

Lorcan cocked his head to one side, scanned Vel’s body, and scoffed.

She stepped forward and clasped her hands behind her back. Walking toward one side, she all but floated to Lorcan’s left side. Vel circled him, giving him a wide girth, but circling him all the same. His cockiness was the only thing that allowed her to do this, and Fenrys felt like he was watching a vulture, stalking an animal that didn’t yet know it was about to die. She ended her walk back where she started.

It was then that she turned and gave Fenrys a mischievous grin. He got way to turned on by this.

“How do I say throughly unimpressive, so he will understand.” Fenrys felt his lips move upward into a huge smile. Her eyes sparkled at him.

Lorcan was fuming and started toward her. Vel quickly turned from Fen and then everything happened at once. Fenrys was flying across the table, Elide was jumping out of her seat, Rowan and Aedion had swords in their hands, Lysandra was back on her hunches ready to pounce. All the court members in that time period were rendered useless when Vel leaped into the air. Her arms were wrapped around Lorcan’s middle, propelling her legs behind him. Her whole body followed and suddenly in her movements to surround his body, her legs were closing around his throat. The momentum she had gained allowed her to throw the huge fae male to the ground, landing squarely on top of him. The fork she had been eating with was suddenly pressed to Lorcan throat. The court was standing, speechless around the two. Fenrys slowly moved toward Vel and whispered her name. She whipped her head to meet his gaze, she looked absolutely savage. Fenrys was instantly hard. A cough had her looking back at the male under her.

“Now let me explain something to you,” Vel sounded breathless. “I was able to pin you, in a matter of seconds, without the use of my magic. Now I know you will probably excuse this by being surprised, but I could do this again when you are fully prepared.” She removed the fork from his neck and gracefully spun and stood up.

Vel surveyed the members of the court, who all except Aelin, looked ready for battle. Aelin, of course, look absolutely delighted.

Fenrys had the sudden need to be at her side when she addressed the group, but he pulled on the urge. She obviously didn’t want or need his help, no matter how much he desired to give it.

Vel took a deep breath and Fenrys thought he felt a spike of her power, but it was quickly distinguished.

“I know that you do not know me, and some of you probably do not wish too,” she gave a pointed look at Lorcan, who had been joined on the floor by a kneeling Elide. “I’m not here to hurt anyone, but as I just demonstrated I can defend myself and will, without hesitation.”

The female turned toward Fenrys, looking at him under long black eyelashes. “I do not even know what I’m still doing here, but one word from you and I will go.”

Dread piled in the bottom of his stomach and he opened his mouth to say something along the lines of, fuck no you aren’t going anywhere, but he was cut off by his queen.

“Fuck no you aren’t leaving. Things were getting a little boring around here.” Fenrys grinned at Aelin, and it only grew as she continued. “You have to teach me that move so I can use it on Rowan,” she elbowed her husband playfully.

She walked forward and grabbed Vel’s arm pulling her toward the door, Vel looked over her shoulder with a look of both excitement and fear. Fenrys couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard Aelin whisper, in a voice she knew everyone could still hear, “When I say use it on Rowan, I mean in bed, so don’t be worried about the buzzards safety.”

#throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #sarah j maas #Sarah j Maas boys #fenrys moonbeam #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver #rowan x aelin #aedion x lysandra #elide x lorcan

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highqueenofelfhame · 4 years

Note

Will there be consequences because ro didn’t hide his feelings for her with the fbi? Like will they assign a new agent to “babysit” her? I’m so scared he’ll face some kind of consequence my baby

okay, so, this isn’t really a spoiler because i’ve vaguely touched on these things. this is going to be a little long to bear with me.

when lorcan started to say “i know you’re attached to her” in fafs13, he’s breaching this like, don’t ask don’t tell thing everyone has kind of adopted surrounding celaena? i haven’t really broached this more than that, i will probably in the next few chapters, but rowan’s coworkers/his friends knew about the relationship he was sort of in with Lillian. they didn’t ever meet her but he did talk about her and because they know him, they knew his reaction both at the first crime scene he found her at (when she was beaten within an inch of her life) and his like volatile behavior toward her and how angry he was that it would have to be more and how he also completely ceased to talk about lillian around the same time. they’re all FBI agents in a division that deals directly with murder, think of them kinda like the BAU from criminal minds. they’re trained to read body language and pick up on things like this and like in canon they’re all very smart, but maybe even more so here. so like, they know without it ever being explicitly said to them. so when lorcan started to say “i know you’re attached to her” that was crossing this line they have where everybody knows and nobody says anything. lorcan least of all because he isn’t invested enough in rowan’s life to genuinely care at this point in the au because they aren’t like best buds here. rowan is probably closest to fenrys in this au, and fenrys doesn’t bring it up to him either. the only person that has ever brought it up to him directly was maeve when they decided they would move forward with the contract because she looked at him and asked him if that was going to be a problem for him, to work with her. so rowan showing emotion for her here wasn’t really anything new to anyone. and fenrys is the only one that really saw the majority of it. Lorcan wasn’t at the hospital and rowan and fenrys were the ones that ended up debriefing her when she felt well enough to do so.

secondly, as far as finding her someone new to babysit her, she told them that she would only work with rowan. she would only talk to rowan. she would only help them with his help. that’s in chapter three when she initially tells rowan that she’ll help them work on the murders. she explicitly said “I will work as a consultant with you, and only you.” and offers a full confession after a year. which is why rowan was immediately like no because why would she help me out AND confess and get nothing out of it. it’s in the contract she signed, and had her lawyers check for loopholes, that she will only work with rowan. if rowan isn’t her handler, there is no deal, and she will cease to be an asset to the bureau. so, short of just putting her back in prison, they can’t really give her a new handler. she sits in on meetings but the only person she’s giving actual relevant information to is directly rowan. it’s very much on purpose on her part.

so, will there be consequences to him outwardly showing his emotion for her: probably in some shape or form but not in a way that would get her off of his service. unless they put her back in prison but as she had very relevant information where dorian was concerned, they all know she knows something here, so they aren’t entirely ready to do that in case she can make another jump of who might be next.

#fafs #ask

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jewishzevran · 4 years

Text

build me up from bones

After a night of wine and laughter, Pippa Hawke and Fenris share their first kiss. [ao3]

How beautiful to find a heart that loves you, without asking you for anything but to be okay. ~ Khalil Gilbran

The fire was still flooding the room with warmth, and Pippa leaned closer, eyes heavy lidded from the wine, and fixed on Fenris' mouth. Their lips met, and for a second, she was breathless, but then Fenris pulled away and she looked up to see him rigid in his chair, boring a hole through the floor with his stare, resolutely not looking at her.

Embarrassment washed over Pippa in waves, and tears burnt in her eyes as she stumbled over half formed apologies and got clumsily to her feet, just about ready to jump into the harbour. At the last second, a hand snapped out to grab her wrist and she froze.

"Don't go."

”Don’t go.” Fenris pleaded, so quietly she could barely hear him over the crackle of the flames. Pippa paced backwards until she was level with his chair, and waited, stomach still lurching and shame still prickling up the back of her neck. Fenris released her. "I was a slave. I won't bore you with the details, but I'm... not used to people asking for my permission."

He still couldn't meet her eye, and her heart ached for him. "Fenris," she said quietly, "I want you to know I won't ever do anything you don't want me to."

He flinched at that, curling in on himself a little. "Don't -" he said before making a visible effort to stop himself speaking, to sit up and look - not at her, but at least in her direction. "That's what I mean," he continued, hands fisting in the lavish velvet of his seat. "I don't – I can handle cruelty, or violence, or indifference, even. But I - I don't know what to do when someone is kind to me. Everything I've learned just tells me it's a trap."

Pippa perched gingerly on the edge of the table. "Do you want to kiss me?" She asked, gently, patiently.

"Yes," Fenris breathed, finally looking up and meeting her gaze. "Very much."

Pippa couldn't stop her heart from fluttering. "Do you want to take the lead then? You kiss, I kiss. You stop, I stop." She smiled encouragingly.

Fenris' brow slowly unfurrowed as he processed her words. "I... yes. All right." He slowly got to his feet, standing in front of Pippa and taking a long, steadying breath, before leaning down to brush his lips against hers.

As their mouths met, warmth flooded through Pippa. Even chaste like this, the gesture felt heady and sweet. Fenris' arms remained at his side, so Pippa kept hers in her lap despite an overwhelming urge to pull him down by his shirt and kiss him until she was dizzy. Still, she couldn't stop herself smiling so wide her cheeks ached.

Fenris pulled away, looking a little perplexed.

"All right?" Pippa asked.

"You're smiling."

"Yes," she replied, unable to refrain from teasing, "That tends to be the reaction when I'm happy."

Fenris' mouth twitched at the corners in response, and it only made the butterflies in her stomach multiply. "You liked it, then?"

"I did," she murmured, suddenly aware of how close his face still was to hers. "And you?"

Fenris reached up to gently cup her cheek, humming appreciatively. “I did.” His thumb stroked over her skin, and when he spoke again, his voice was practically a purr. “May I… do it again?”

Pippa nodded, tilting her head up in invitation, and when Fenris covered her mouth with his this time, she couldn’t help but let out a little moan against his lips. Her face felt hot where he was touching it, and then he inhaled sharply and deepened the kiss, his other hand coming to rest on her back, pulling her closer. She made a small noise of surprise when she felt his tongue, but it quickly shifted to a soft moan, and she mirrored him, placing her hand on his face. He flinched a little in surprise, but didn’t pull away, continuing to kiss her with a desire so tangible it made her clothes feel far too tight. She was aching for more, wanted to ravish him right there on the rug in front of the fire and trail her tongue down his chest, but she’d be damned if she let her enthusiasm push Fenris into something he wasn’t ready for, and given that this was undoubtedly the most wonderful kiss she’d ever experienced, it was easy to suppress those urges, and store them away for another time.

When Fenris finally pulled away, Pippa chased his lips with a small noise of protest, before opening her eyes and blushing, ducking her head with a shy smile as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Fenris was frowning a little, and Pippa regarded him questioningly.

“What is it?”

“It didn’t hurt,” he murmured, only half looking at her. Pippa tilted her head slightly, and Fenris continued. “The tattoos, they - if someone touches them, it’s unpleasant. Mostly, it’s just discomfort, like an old injury that hasn’t quite healed. Sometimes it’s painful.” He held his hand out, staring at the white, vein-like markings stark against his palm. “But it didn’t hurt when you touched them.” He looked up, eyes meeting Pippa’s, and she felt her stomach lurch.

Without breaking his gaze, she very slowly took her hand, and traced the lines from the base of Fenris’ palm to his fingertips. He inhaled sharply, and Pippa immediately withdrew, but he shook his head and reached out his other hand to cling to hers.

“Don’t-” His eyes flicked down to where his fingers curled around her wrist, breathing heavily, and shaking ever so slightly. “Please, Pippa,” he breathed. “Do it again.” He pulled her hand up to his face to touch the lines on his chin, “Here. Please.”

“Fenris-”

“Please.” He urged.

Pippa relented, and feather-light, ran the pad of her thumb over the markings. Fenris inhaled again, and Pippa watched in surprise as his eyes fluttered a little, and he leant into the touch. “What is it?” She asked, softly.

“It’s… good.” Fenris said, as she continued to gently brush over his skin.

Pippa blinked. “You… you like it?”

Fenris nodded, and slowly lifted her hand away from his face so he could press his palm flat against hers, sighing again softly at the touch. “It doesn’t hurt,” he repeated, voice full of wonder, an almost child-like awe on his face as he stared at their hands.

Before Pippa could ask anymore questions, or work through the implications of what had passed between them, the markings on the back of his hand began to glow. In fact, his entire body lit up. Not the searing blue she had become accustomed to in battle, but a gentle luminescence, like soft candlelight from behind a linen screen. Pippa was awestruck, but when Fenris noticed, he started and jumped back, staring at his hands in confusion and slowly dawning horror.

“What is this?!”

The light was already fading, like it was sinking back into his skin, and sensing his growing terror, Pippa launched forward and grabbed one of his hands, pressing a soft kiss to his palm and then clutching it tightly. “Fenris, Fenris it’s alright. You’re safe, I promise, you’re safe.” When Fenris caught her eye, the fear in his eyes began to subside and his breathing returned to normal. Pippa held his gaze. “You’re safe.” She repeated, smiling reassuringly, and reached up to cup his cheek. He smiled back, and as the tension left his shoulders, the glow returned, not as brightly as before, but unmistakable, and Fenris shimmered in front of her like starlight on a lake. It was the most beautiful thing Pippa had ever seen.

“What’s happening to me?” He asked hoarsely, clutching Pippa so tightly he was threatening to cut off the blood supply to her fingers.

“This has never happened before?” Pippa asked.

Fenris shook his head. “No.”

They remained in silence for a long while, before Pippa began to speak slowly, ideas forming as she spoke them aloud. “"Fenris," she asked carefully, "have you... has anyone ever touched you because you wanted them to? Really wanted, not just... because you couldn't say no?" Fenris frowned at her, and Pippa carried on. “Your markings are everywhere. It’s hard not to touch you without making contact with them somehow. And for most of your life, whenever someone put their hands on you, it was unwelcome. You didn’t want it. Then you were fighting to survive and in battle and people were trying to take you back to Tevinter, so - could it - is it possible that the markings don’t always hurt, but just when they are touched without permission? When the touch is unsolicited?” Fenris remained quiet, staring at his hands and processing Pippa’s words, and the silence encouraged her to continue. “Could it be that this is how they react when you want someone to touch them? When you’re happy?”

Fenris continued to stare at his hands in silence for so long that Pippa was afraid she’d broken him, but then the corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk and he looked up at her. “Pippa, if you wanted to know if I fancied you, there were much easier ways to find out.”

Pippa started to laugh, and it was so infectious that Fenris joined in. She’d never been so delighted to be teased in her life. “Well,” she says, wiping a tear from her eye, “Carver always said I had a knack for turning men on, you’re just the first person to take it literally.”

Both of them collapsed into giggles again, and Fenris stepped back between her legs and pulled her in tightly against his chest, still chuckling heartily. “I knew you were going to be trouble as soon as I set eyes on you, Miss Hawke.”

“How dare you,” Pippa said, muffled against his shirt. “I am a delight.”

“Yes you are.” Fenris agreed, and Pippa could hear the smile in his voice.

She pulled back, and smiled at him coyly, her eyes as sultry and seductive as she could make them. “Trouble or no, you still wanted to kiss me.”

“Yes I did,” Fenris said, leaning closer and tilting her chin up with the side of his finger. “And I find myself very much wanting to do so again.”

“What’s stopping you then?” Pippa murmured, and Fenris’ reply was to close the gap between them and press their lips together, and he shone so brightly that Pippa could still see it behind her closed eyes.

#fenhawke #fenris x hawke #hawke #f!hawke #fenris #pippa x fenris #ash writes

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venmomejoy · 4 years

Text

Protection

Summary: An alternate way the forging of the lock in Kingdom of Ash went down, created by my evil brain. The actual forging remains the same, but the moments leading up to it are wayyyy more angsty

Read it on AO3!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381568

They had not slept that night.

They kept each other up late with roaming hands and searching mouths. Every touch burned on Aelin's skin; the feel of her mate, who had fought through hell to get her back, who had loved her despite all her faults. She wanted to imprint every inch of him in her memory, to brand him onto her soul, so that even when she was gone, she could still remember him, her mate, as she waited for him in the afterworld. She ran her hands over every inch of him, memorizing the feel of his body underneath her fingers, and reached out along their bond, storing the feeling of his heart, his soul- a small comfort in whatever the afterworld will hold for her.

Aelin knew that Rowan was committing her to memory as well. Every thrust he made into her body held the desperation, the terror, the anguish that she knew was coursing through him. He had not given up on finding an alternative; no, Rowan never was the type to take something lying down. She had barely convinced him to stop scouring the tomes and spend the night with her. She knew he would feel like he was giving up on her, abandoning her, if he stopping researching, but she wanted him tonight, wanted to spend her last hours in the arms of the male she loved, who made her life worth living, who made dying so hard. Even as he left the table and settled into bed, she knew his mind was still whirring, straining to find something, anything to alter fate.

They moved with an intensity they had never reached before. They rolled together for hours, trying to savor every minute they would get with each other, hoping it would be enough to last for eternity. Tears fell freely on both sides, Aelin's hands grasping Rowan's back, trying to pull him into her skin, while his arms banded around her waist, trying to bind them so tightly that she could not go where he could not follow.

While they both knew they could have continued all night, they eventually ceased, simply holding each other as sunlight slowly filled the tent. Neither of them slept, too anxious about the morning's events and too desperate not to miss a single moment with each other. With every ray of light filtering through the canvas, the tension in the room grew. Rowan's arms tightened where they were slung across her back and shoulders, holding her to him with a vise-like grip in an attempt to stave off the inevitable.

Aelin lied there as long as she could, breathing in her mate's scent, basking in the way it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, before breaking the spell. "Rowan, we have to go."

His arms squeezed her impossibly tighter. "No," he growled. It was apparent he had no intention of letting her walk out of here, of letting her walk to her death. She put her hands on his chest, trying to push herself out of his embrace, but his arms did not yield an inch.

"Rowan, I-"

"No, Aelin. No." She had not heard him speak to her with so much venom since they were in Wendlyn, but she knew his ire stemmed from fear. She could not even find it in herself to tease him about his territorial Fae instincts. She knew if the roles were reversed, she would do whatever it took to protect Rowan from this fate. Her fate.

Aelin was a good fighter, but there was no way she could overpower Rowan, not when he already had her restrained. She needed for him to loosen his grip, just long enough for her to slip out of bed, but her mate had a solid hundred pounds of pure muscle on her.

She knew what she had to do. Her instincts revolted at the idea, but she knew it was her only shot at easing his grasp. She ran her hands along his arms, the corded muscle tense beneath her fingers. As her hands circled his biceps she let a fraction of her power seep through, let her hands ignite for just a moment. His arms slackened as he recoiled in shock, but she slid from his embrace before he could rectify his mistake, before he could pull her to him and never let her go, charred flesh be damned. She knew his response had been from surprise, not a reaction to the pain. He could withstand her flames, he had before, and she knew that had he anticipated her plan, had he been prepared, he would have sat and endured it.

Rowan scrambled off of the mattress, his voice breaking as he pleaded with her, begged her not to go, to wait, to let him find some other way. She kept her back to him as she dressed quickly. Tears pricked her eyes as she pulled on an old tunic, trying to tune out the broken voice of her mate as he implored her not to leave. She could only take so much, could only hear so much of this before she would crack, before she would let Rowan take her into his arms and pretend the world was alright, that there were no more debts to pay, that she could simply love him and that could be enough.

Aelin marched through the flaps of their tent into the growing sunlight outside, her self-control holding on by a thread. She had half a mind to put herself together for the forging; if she was going to die, she wanted to look stunning doing it. But she could hardly find the willpower to properly dress with Rowan's pleas slowly breaking apart her defenses. Their scuffle in bed had set them behind schedule anyways, and Aelin could see the rest of their group awaiting them at the break in the field as she strode towards them.

She walked purposefully, definitively ignoring the male shouting behind her. She could feel Rowan trailing behind her, and the pain in his voice, the pain she felt down the bond, made her heart cleave in two. She was determined not to let any tears fall: she did not want her emotion to sway any of her companions, and she wanted to face the end with her head held high. She kept her eyes pinned on the clearing she approached, and had almost reached her destination when a tug on her hand spun her around.

The agony on Rowan's face... it was unbearable. Tears were streaming down his face, his beautiful face, and Aelin grappled for any way to help him, to ease his suffering. "Please, Aelin... I can't, I can't..."

She grasped his face between her hands, and when he fell to his knees, she slid down with him. His eyes frantically scanned her face, and she found herself unable to contain her tears any longer. "Rowan..." her voice came out a whisper. He pulled her face to his, placing a desperate kiss onto her mouth. She closed her eyes and let herself melt into the kiss, seeking solace in the press of his mouth on hers. He pulled away too soon, but he immediately tugged her head under his chin, pulling her up until she was completely seated in his lap. He cradled her body against his, and she let him hold her, let him take his comfort in whatever way she could offer it. She felt more than saw the sobs rack through his chest, his arms shaking as they banded around her.

Aelin wasn't sure how long they sat together, but she knew the group would need to get moving soon; she could not delay the inevitable any longer. She pushed herself up, his arms not letting her get very far, and adjusted until they sat face to face. She lifted her hands to brush his tears away, although fresh ones quickly moved to replace them, and then carded through his hair. His face was red and splotchy, crumpled as he was faced with the situation he had done everything in his power to evade. She set her hands on his cheeks, tugging his face up until he looked her in the eye.

She pushed her shoulders back, feigning composure, as she steeled herself for what she was about to say. She knew Rowan would not be happy with it, but she hoped he would at least listen to her, one day. "Rowan," she said, her voice sounding stronger than she felt. "It's going to be okay." He opened his mouth to object, but she cut him off before he could say anything. "Rowan, I need you to listen to me. Things are going to get better. You are going to get better." His eyes filled with horror as he violently shook his head, dismissing the idea. She simply smiled softly at him and nodded. "It may not feel like it now, but they will. I'm sure you do not believe me- you always have been a stubborn bastard- but this is something you will move past. And I- I want you to. I know that you will think that any happiness you feel after my death will somehow dishonor my memory, but it will not. No, you would dishonor my memory if you stopped living, if you shut down and never allowed yourself to find joy again. You have to let them in: Fenrys, Lorcan, Gavriel, Aedion. The others too. Dorian, Chaol, Elide, Nesryn, Yrene, all of them- our friends. You have people, Rowan, people who care for you- you are not alone." She swallowed, gripping his hands tightly between hers. "You must promise me that you will not shut them out, that you will let them help you heal. That you will let yourself heal. And perhaps, Rowan, you will one day find love again, and-"

"No." He grasped her hands so tightly she thought they might bruise. Perhaps that would be nice, to enter the afterworld with one last mark from her mate. "Aelin, you can't possibly believe-"

"She won't be your mate, no," she gave a watery laugh, "but that does not mean you cannot still love her. It will take time, no doubt, but someday, you may meet a beautiful female who you find yourself in love with. And you must know, loving her does not mean you love me any less. Do not deny yourself any chance at happiness on my account; you deserve to love again. I want you to love again. As long as it is someone who deserves you, or else I will kick your ass when we meet in the afterworld." Her attempt to lighten the mood fell flat.

He was still shaking his head, heartbreak evident in his face as tears from his eyes splattered across her tunic. "You are my mate, Aelin. There will never be anyone else. And there will never be any getting better. You cannot possibly believe this to be something I can recover from. You are everything to me, Fireheart. Everything. I cannot let you go through with this."

"There is no other way, Rowan."

"If that is true, then I will go in with you, and we will pay the debt together." His face was hard as granite, resolve etched on every line of his skin.

Aelin's heart stuttered to a stop in her chest; she did not think she was breathing. "No."

"I love you, Aelin. Wherever you go, I go. I will not let you face this alone, and I have no desire to live in a world without you in it."

"No, Rowan. We need as many warriors as we can get to defeat Maeve and the Valg ranks. Your power is too immense for our army to be deprived of it, especially if I will not be on the battlefield either. And after all of this, when you have won the war, I need you to lead Terrasen. The people of Terrasen have suffered for too long; you must take up the crown that is yours, and help lead our people into prosperity. I cannot leave without knowing my country is in the hands of someone who will bring joy and safety to my lands. And if that is not reason enough, the lock only calls for the life of one. I could not bear taking this burden if I knew you would be dying as well. I love you too much to let you die senselessly."

"How do you think I feel? If our roles were reversed, you would never let me go through with this."

"But they are not."

"Aelin-"

"You are right- if the roles were reversed, I would do anything to save you from this. But they are not, and I cannot do anything but fulfill the debt, and pray that it will be enough to protect my people, to protect you. And if the roles were reversed, you would do the exact same thing." Her voice was flinty. She could not show any weakness on this, could not let Rowan believe for a second she would allow him to kill himself with her.

The sun was climbing up the horizon, and Aelin knew they needed to start the ritual soon if the army had any chance of reaching Terrasen's units in time. She knew it was time to say goodbye.

She cupped his cheeks in her hands again, staring into his eyes as she spoke. "Everything will be alright Rowan." She let a small smile dance across her face, showing him that she was not afraid, giving him a happy image to remember when she was gone. "I will be with you always. Here," she pressed her fingers to his temple. "And here," dragging her hand down to lay over his heart. "And here," she said down the mating bond, voice chock-full of adoration and joy and passion. He shuddered, eyes filled with desperation. "I love you, Rowan. More than I ever thought I would love anyone. You saved me. You drew me out of the darkness; you taught me how to live again. You saw every part of me and did not flinch; you loved me through all of my flaws. You know my past and have never held it against me. You gave my life purpose when I was on the brink of giving up. And I wish we had had those centuries together, wish we could have had a life together, had children, had a chance to see Terrasen flourish. But if this is all the time we get, it was more than I could have ever hoped for. I have no regrets Rowan, not one. You made my life worthwhile." She leaned her forehead against his, their tears mingling until they could not tell whose was whose. "I look forward to the eternity we will have together in the afterlife. But do not rush, Rowan- we have time. Find the joys in this life while it is here, allow yourself to enjoy the pleasures you can find with no guilt. I love you, more than you could ever imagine."

With that, she pressed her lips to his, a final farewell. It was messy and desperate and sorrowful, and when they pulled away, Aelin allowed Rowan to pull her into his arm again, allowed him to comfort himself with the feel of his mate in his arms. He sobbed into her neck, hands roving over her, clenching in the fabric of her tunic. Looking over his shoulder, she could see the distress on the faces of her comrades. The royal family of the Southern Continent looked calmer than the rest, not knowing Aelin or Rowan personally, but still looked grieved by the events they were witnessing. But the Cadre, Choal, Dorian, Elide, Nesryn... they looked devastated. She knew they were going to crack any minute, knew she had to do this now. She moved to extract herself from Rowan's lap, but his arms held her to him, yet again keeping her from her duty.

"Rowan, you have to let me up now." Her voice sounded feeble, even to her own ears.

"I can't, Aelin... I just can't. I don't care if I have to sit here and hold you down for the rest of our lives, but I cannot let you go through with this. Burn me all you like, I will not give way."

"Rowan..."

"I can't-" his voice broke, taking her heart down with it. "I can't do this without you. I need you, Fireheart. Please." She could feel her own resolve disintegrating from the pain she was putting her mate through. But she could not afford weakness, not with all that was at stake. She knew her fire trick from this morning would not work; no, now that the element of surprise was gone, he really would endure her flames if it meant keeping her safe.

She knew there was only one way to stop him, knew it and hated it. He may never forgive her for this, but she had no other choice.

"Fenrys, Lorcan, come here." The pure command in her voice had her mate tensing beneath her. She rarely invoked the blood oath, and she knew he would realize what she was up to quickly, knew she needed to act fast. The males approached, apprehension in their eyes, stopping a few paces away from where she and Rowan sat.

She looked at the two, remorse in her eyes. She knew they would not do this willingly, would not help her sacrifice herself or aid in Rowan's suffering, so she had to use their blood oaths. They very well may never forgive her either, but it was all she could think of. "Take Rowan back to the tent, and restrain him until this is all over." He whipped his head up, eyes filled with fear and betrayal and anguish. She could not draw upon her mate's blood oath; he would have broken it, no matter if it killed him. So she had to use the other members of her court, even if it broke her heart. "Try not to hurt him, but make sure he cannot stop the ritual."

She could see the rage on both Fenrys and Lorcan's faces as they strode towards their friend, infuriated that she would make them do such a thing and yet powerless to deny her demand. Rowan was already fighting, yelling things Aelin could not hear over the cracking in her chest. The two males hauled Rowan up by his arms, even as he kicked and thrashed in their grip. He was yelling at her, for her, as they started to steer him towards their tent. Her face contorted in pain as she watched their slow progression, Rowan fighting like hell to free himself, yet the two of them overpowered even his colossal strength.

"Do not be angry with them Rowan, they have as little say in this as you do. Do not hold this against them; if you will be angry at someone, let it be me. I am sorry it has to be this way, but... we cannot avoid this Rowan. And it is probably better that you not watch." He was weeping in his friends' arms, straining to get to his mate, to save her, but he could not get free.

"Fenrys, Lorcan, I- am very sorry to put you in this position. Neither of you has any fault in this, and you cannot hold yourself to blame for it. Fenrys, you are one of my dearest friends. You helped me through the darkest point in my life, helped me hold out hope, helped me stay sane. You have been a better friend to me than I could have possibly dreamt for myself. I love you, Fen. I hope you find happiness too, hope that you can heal from all the suffering we endured. And Lorcan, you should know I hold you to no blame for what happened with Maeve. Though you certainly can be a prick, I know you are an honorable man, and one who has earned my respect. But if you ever hurt Elide, I will personally wallop you from the afterworld.

"Rowan, I love you. So, so much. I hope you can forgive me, hope you can understand why I had to do this. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me." She watched them tug her mate away, listened as he bellowed for her and hurled threats so creative at his friends it almost made Aelin chuckle. Almost. She kept her eyes on him until he disappeared under the canvas of their tent, his eyes boring into hers, lips forming her name. When he was out of sight, she allowed herself one moment of weakness, one moment of misery. She knew her friends were watching, yet she needed to release these emotions, needed the universe to see what an injustice it had bestowed.

She gathered her strength, and pulled herself to her feet. She wiped at her face, smoothed down her hair, willed her voice into a semblance of assuredness. Then she spun around and faced her allies. "Well, let's get started then."

They all froze for a moment, doubt in their eyes. It was Elide who finally spoke up. "Aelin, I'm not sure-"

"There is no other way. The price has to be paid, either today or sometime in the near future, but it will never be less painful. There is no getting out of this. Let's just get it over with." Aelin took no pains to hide the fatigue in her voice; she was so, so tired.

Although they all looked hesitant, they helped her set up the ceremony, drawing the intricate Wyrdmarks in the dirt. It was incredibly hard for Aelin to focus as she heard Rowan's growling far behind her. He wailed for her, begged for her to stop, to wait, to reconsider. She did her best to tune him out, but her mate's voice was one she could never truly ignore.

Sooner than she anticipated, the circle was done. There was nothing left to wait for; the ritual could begin. Before Aelin stepped inside the ring, she gave her goodbyes to all of her friends. All were incredibly emotional, mostly leaving both in tears. She thanked each and every one of them for everything they had done for her, for everything they meant to her, for becoming her family. She loved them, all of them, and told them so. She thanked the royal family a little more distantly, thanked them for the aid in this war, and for their care of her friends. She took a long look at them, her friends, tears slipping down her cheeks. She had left a message for Aedion and Lysandra with Fenrys last night, although she wished she could say a proper goodbye to her cousin and best friend. She looked towards the tent, towards the shouts and pleas that had not ceased, towards the mate that she would leave behind. She snapped her eyes shut when the sounds became too hard to bear.

Aelin took a deep breath and strode towards the ring. She would not flinch; she would not yield. She was two steps away from entering when a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She looked back at Dorian, his eyes shining with a plot, although she also saw what looked like fear. She stood silent as he gathered himself, whispering, "What if there was another way to fulfill the lock, one that would not drain your life completely?" She raised her eyebrow, and as Dorian laid out his plan, she found herself nodding. She owed it to Rowan, owed it to herself to at least try, though she knew at the first sign of failure she would take over and save her friend. She would not make any promises, but she would try.

----------------------------------

Minutes later, when the wards circled around Aelin and Dorian, pounding footsteps drew the eyes of the bystanders. Rowan was sprinting towards his mate, face bloodied and clothes torn. They could not imagine the fight he had put up to break the hold of two ancient Fae males, especially when they were under a blood oath's order. Rowan was disheveled and distressed, running as fast as he could towards Aelin, only to come up short as he came in contact with an invisible barrier, walling her and Dorian into the circle. Rowan banged on it several times, shouting his mate's name, but it was no use. She was in the thrall of the magic, unaware of what was going on in the world around her. They all exchanged glances, and Sartaq stepped forward, explaining the situation to Rowan, explaining that it was possible Aelin would not have to die, not if she and Dorian each paid half of the price. Rowan's face was puffy and red, yet Sartaq saw a glimmer of hope on the male's face. Rowan didn't bother thanking the man, desperately watching the scene before him, but Sartaq knew he was grateful, he just had larger things to worry about. Rowan knelt with his hands pressed against the wards, hoping beyond hope that this scheme would be enough to save his Fireheart.

#throne of glass #sarah j maas #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #celaena sardothien #kingdom of ash #yrene westfall #chaol westfall #dorian havilliard #elide lochan #fenrys moonbeam #lorcan salvaterre #angst #heavy angst #canon divergence

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officialleehadan · 4 years

Text

Hello darlings! Wow, what a ride this Prompt Month has been! I'm sad to say that this is the last Prompt of Prompt month. Time to start thinking about your next Prompts for September!

This story was brought to you by Mark! Thank you so much for your support. It's always a delight to see your comments!

Prompt: The Last of Loki's Brood. A regular human tries to mug Tom.

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“So, this isn’t your brightest idea,” Tom said, far too casual for a man with a gun pointed at him. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

The man with the gun was, hilariously, a normal human mugger. Tom was in the city, running a few errands he tended to put off as long as possible. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of cutting down a back street to save time. As soon as he was out of sight of the main road, the mugger decided to jump out at him.

He should probably be worried, but considering his world now included the family drama of literal gods, he thought he was justified in being somewhat underwhelmed by a human with a gun.

The mugger was not thrilled by Tom’s lack of response.

“Gimme your wallet!” he said again. By the red around his eyes and the frantic way his hand twitched, he was well past strung out. Poor man. Tom wondered if it would be possible to talk him down enough to get him some professional help. He had a friend or two in the city who worked with recovering addicts. “Hurry up! I’ll shoot!”

“I’m sure you will,” Tom said soothingly, and slowly held up his hands. He didn’t actually have much in the way of cash on him, but if it would make this poor man leave without shooting him, he would hand it over. “If you’re in trouble, I can help you.”

“Stop talking!”

The mugger brandished his gun again. The shadows behind him shifted in a decidedly intent sort of way and Tom sighed. “This isn’t going to go well for you.”

“I said stop talking!”

“Alright, well, I tried to warn you.”

A growl echoed out of the shadows.

The mugger blanched white, which, if Tom was being honest, was a reasonable reaction, all things considered. There weren’t many people who heard that growl and lived to tell the tale.

The growl of Fenris Wolf had a way of lighting up all the ‘oh god I’m prey’ signals in the human brain. Tom firmly stifled his own instinctual reaction to run for the hills.

The mugger, who knew only that something big was suddenly very definitely behind him, froze on the spot.

Fenris himself stepped out of the shadows, still growling. Even as a human, he stood a solid six feet with plenty of change, and could be politely described as having the general build of a brick wall.

With his fur-collared leather jacket, thick red hair, and heavy steel-toed boots, he was exactly the sort of person that nobody reasonable wanted to meet on a dark night.

Tom privately thought it was funny that people were so afraid of him as a human. They should see him as a wolf.

Fenris loomed closer, somehow completely silent despite the trash-strewn alleyway. Everything about him screamed ‘predator’. Tom choked down his need to run away, and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Have you ever heard of the Fenris Ulfr?” Fenris asked, his voice more growl than words. “ Do you know the story of the wolf who tried to eat the sun?”

“N-no…?” the mugger said. His gun hung limp in his hand, and his face was as white as paper. “I don’t- I don’t want trouble.”

“Shouldn’t have tried to mug my friend here,” Fenris said, and smiled, showing all his teeth.

Tom couldn’t help himself. He snorted a laugh. “My, what big teeth you have.”

“The better to eat the world, my dear,” Fenris said smugly, and leaned in close. The mugger stared up at him, white visible all the way around his eyes. “Run, little man. Before I huff, and puff, and blow your house down.”

The mugger, at the end of his courage, bolted. Tom waited until the sound of his footsteps faded before he cracked a smile. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Eh,” Fenris said, almost all of his menacing aura gone now that he no longer had someone to terrify. “You were doing fine. Anyone who looks Thor in the eye and threatens to feed him to Jör is a human who doesn’t fear other humans.”

“I don’t fear humans. I do, however, have a healthy respect for humans with guns.”

Fenris roared with laughter and clapped him on the back hard enough to make Tom stagger, but it was all in good fun. The wolf didn’t always remember his own strength, but he had never hurt Tom, and Tom was oddly confident that he never would.

“You’re a ballsy one,” he chuckled when Tom led him out of the back street and back into the flow of traffic. While not a small man himself, Tom didn’t have half the aura of ‘death on paws’ that Fenris did. As it happened, that made walking a great deal easier all of a sudden. “I see why Hel likes you. Now, I’m hungry, and if I remember right, there’s a buffet not far form here that hasn’t banned me yet. What do you say to some meat on a stick, eh?”

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The Last of Loki’s Brood:

Cassandra Brann is a Troubled Student. She is difficult, at best, defiant at worst, and has more secrets than a dozen spies.

And her family is worse.

BeLIEve Me

Family Gathered

Red-Gold and Silver-Grey

Prophesy Unheeded

Strength in the Dark

Queen’s Blessing

Bigger Fish

Life Once Lost (Subscriber Only!)

A Touch of Normal (Subscriber Only!)

Thunder Son

Goddess Boon (Subscriber Only!)

Coffee and Tea (Subscriber Only!)

Sucker Punch (subscriber Only!)

Gold Glow

Weapon Unspoken (Subscriber Only!)

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