#why's your man showing up at rowan's house at midnight!

[pixelblooming]

sawyer came over at midnight for some reason?? rowan took the opportunity to autonomously flirt w him while still extremely dazed from getting electrocuted repairing the dryer

but anyways they had their first kiss :)

[carriagelamp]

I read more books this month than I anticipated. I should probably wait before doing a February book round up, but I already feel like I’m struggling to decide which ones to cut from my list so I’m doing it this weekend instead of next. If I read much next week I’ll bump ‘em up into March’s round up

Asterix and the Missing Scroll / Chieftain’s Daughter

I got the last two “new” Asterix books out of the library so I could officially say I had read them all. Over all my opinion is… they’re fine! None of these would ever become one of my favourites, but they’re all fine stories. The art is good, it is completely in-line with the original, and the stories are… fine. I liked The Missing Scroll quite a bit more than The Chieftain’s Daughter but I never find a ~hurr hurr teenagers~ plotline that interesting, whereas I do enjoy seeing Romans get chased down by unicorns so that’s probably not surprising. There’s some spark I can’t put my finger on that the new Asterix books just seem to be missing though… a bit of humour or cleverness or something. Still, they’re fine reads if you’ve been hungry for more Asterix and I’m glad I read them. (Though the library gave me the American translation of The Chieftain’s Daughter, something I didn’t realize until I started reading and realized that this is wrong??? I’ve been reading these books since I could read and I know this is wrong??? What the hell is happening??? The I realized the publisher was different and I simmered in fury the whole time I read it — WHY ARE YOU CHANGING NAMES AND WORD CHOICES IN A WELL ESTABLISHED SERIES THAT ALREADY HAS AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION YOU ANIMALS WHY ARE YOU DUMBING DOWN THE LANGUAGE AAAUGH

The Bride Was A Boy

This one was cute! The Bride Was A Boy is an autobiographical manga written by a transwoman recounting her experience with transitioning, meeting her boyfriend, and eventually getting married. It’s mostly done in a 4-panel style and is interspersed with lots of information about the LGBT community, particularly in Japan. A lot of it was stuff I was already familiar with, but I still found it adorable and a very worthwhile read. it would be a fantastic book for young queer people who are looking for more of an introduction into international queer space

Cul de Sac: Children At Play

Cul de Sac is just a weird, fun newspaper comic series about the children who live in a small neighbourhood. It fully taps into the children-as-semi-feral-chaos-agents, and there’s something hilariously nostalgic about the whole thing. Lots of times when stories try to portray children there’s always something… wrong about it, something that doesn’t mesh with true childhood, but in this comic I can see glimpses of my grimy, dirty-covered self as a preschooler running around the pages. I would definitely recommend trying them!

The Cremation of Sam McGee

I reread The Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan McGrew and man, they don’t stop being buckwild. These are two really famous Canadian poems that were then illustrated by equally famous Canadian artist Ted Harrison. Harrison’s style is gorgeous and distinct and given what strangely grisly stories these poems are they fit the mood perfectly. Everything feels just a little tilted and wrong and unsettling. If you enjoy an occasional poem (especially ones that are super fun to read out loud) and haven’t read these before, I would recommend them! Or do what my teachers did, and read Sam Gee to a young child in your life and watch them be baffled and concerned and horrified.

There are strange things done / in the midnight sun / by the men who moil for gold...

The Gryphon’s Lair

The second book of the Royal Guide to Monster Slaying series written by Kelley Armstrong; I’ve been eagerly awaiting this book! It’s a very cool fantasy series because it really leans into environmental stewardship and the importance of studying animals and conservation so you can find ways to live alongside a healthy ecosystem. In this book Rowan is officially accepted as the Royal Monster Hunter, which means a whole new set of trials and burdens. She has to contend with a baby gryphon that is becoming increasingly large and dangerous, plotting family members, doubt about her abilities, a potential curse, and a daunting quest deep into the mountains in order to set things right. If you’re looking for some very gentle high fantasy, this series delivers.

Hogan’s Heroes comics

What to say here. Anyone following this blog has suffered the knowledge that I’ve been rewatching Hogan’s Heroes lately. When I found out that there was a short-lived, shitty comic series in the 60s? Of course I had to hunt them down. And so I’ve read them! And they sure were a shitty comic series from the 60s! They were, shall we say, of wildly varying quality. Some were actually really funny (like #5, it easily had the best art and best jokes imho), others were a slog, and most were fine and amusing enough to read the whole way through but not much more.

If you don’t know what Hogan’s Heroes is about: it was a 1960s sitcom that took place in a WWII POW camp, in which the Allied prisoners trapped there had a massive, complex sabotage/spy ring right underneath the camp. The whole show is about constantly outwitting the bumbling Germans while keeping up the pretense that they’re all just normal prisoners. The show is hilariously funny and I would recommend that, even if I can’t say the same for the comics unless you’re like me and are just really thirsty for more content...

Magic Misfits: The Fourth Suit (Ripley)

The final book of Neil Patrick Harris’ middle grade series, The Magic Misfits. In this fourth book, the group is fragmented and forced to meet in secret to avoid notice from the mysterious and powerful Kalagan whose cruel machinations have already turned the quiet little town on its ears, putting people’s lives in peril and destroy Leila’s fathers’ magic shop. The Misfits are going to need all their skills to finally unmask this sinister magician and break the mesmerism he seems to have placed over the entire town before it’s too late to save no only the town, but their friendship and trust.

Super charming series, and the illustrations are gorgeous.

Marsupilami

HOUBA! I watched a very bad TV adaptation of this as a kid that still managed to find a place in my heart, and so I decided to finally try reading some of the original comic! On one hand: it was exactly what I had hoped! The art is cute, the marsupilami is so dynamic and fun to see on the page (and has a way better characterization than he does in the show), and it’s really funny! Unfortunately! It is also pretty racist! Yikes! That seems to be a reoccuring downfall for some of these older Belgian comics... I also tried reading the first book of Les Tuniques Bleues and aye ye ye… I couldn’t actually get through that one. That being said, these were older volumes and frankly, North American media was also real fucking racist at that point so I’m not gonna write them off either. I really liked most of this book, and will probably try to get my hands on one of the more recent volumes of both Marsupilami and Les Tuniques Bleues to see if they get better with time. (If you’ve read either of those series and have volume recommendations hmu)

The Pagemaster

I’m a sucker for novelizations, I have no excuse beyond that. I recently rewatched The Pagemaster and decided to read the chapter book. And it was a solid little adaptation! It’s about Richard Tyler, a young boy with a head for statistics which unfortunately means he lives in constant fear of (in his opinion, statistically likely) injury or death. However that fear is put to the test when he gets caught in a horrible thunderstorm and has to shelter in a nearby library with halls and shelves that stretch beyond the imagination and with untold perils hidden among the pages of the books. Richard, with only his library card and three novels that hope to be checked out, has to venture through the different genres and horrors housed int he library if he ever wants to find the exit and get home to safety.

Pumpkinheads

A very charming little graphic novel. Cute art, and really loveable characters. Josiah and Deja work every year at a local pumpkin patch, and are best friends during those weeks. However this is their last year working there before going off to university and as the last day at the patch comes to a close they realize that they both still have regrets. Deja sets off on a mission to avoid work, eat all the interesting snacks around the patch, and get Josiah to find the girl he’s been crushing on every year and has never worked up the nerve to talk to.

After being deprived of human contact for almost a year, this book really hits you right in the heart.

The Screwfly Solution

A deeply upsetting scifi/horror short story! I read it on the recommendation of a friend and, yes, can confirm that this fucked me up a bit. I honestly don’t even know what to say about this that wouldn’t spoil it, but frankly with everything being as it is, this hit a little bit too close to reality. (That being said, it was very well written, like this is a very good story on a literary level and it does exactly what it sets out to accomplish.) If you feel like reading twenty pages and being really disturbed, give it a go! Otherwise go and read any number of the much happier books on this list!

The Whipping Boy

This was a book I remember reading as a lit circle book back in elementary school and really loving. After telling myself I’d reread it for years, I finally sat down with it again. If you somehow got through school without reading this one, it’s about a brat of a prince and his whipping boy — since it would be unspeakable to strike a prince, when the prince misbehaves it is Jemmy who gets whipped. Unsurprisingly, there is no love lost between the two of them, because the prince is always intentionally causing problems that Jemmy has to suffer for. Things begin to change though when the prince decides to run away and drags Jemmy along with him. On the run, being chased by highwaymen, and desperately trying to hide their identities, these boys go on a fast-paced adventure beyond the castle walls. It wasn’t as special as I remembered it being as a kid, but it’s a fine little chapter book.

[theladyofdeath]

In the Bleak Midwinter {10}

A Throne of Glass Period AU: 1920s.

Summary: 2 years after Arobynn Hammel is killed by Rowan Whitethorn, Maeve has returned from Eyllwe with a vengeance. Meanwhile, Rowan is getting married, Lorcan is a father, and Lysandra is finally ready to give her heart away. There’s been peace in The Cadre’s Orynth for 2 years, but peace never lasts.

A/N: pretty sure shit’s about to go down...we’ve reached the middle of this 20 chapter fic! thank you all for reading, reblogging, liking, etc. I thrive on your comments and excitement. x

All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.

**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.

Links & masterlists:

Fanfic Masterlist

Ask me

The Cadre - 1920s AU {TOG}

In the Bleak Midwinter {The Cadre, Part 2}

Aelin sat by Vaughan’s side, nearly nonstop, for two days. He was still breathing steadily, and the doctor said he should wake up, but it would be when he was ready, and he hadn’t yet, which only increased Aelin’s anxiety, and she could hardly take any more anxiety.

It was nearly nightfall on Saturday evening, and Aelin knew she should join the others for dinner, but she had no appetite. The others cared for Vaughan, too, of course, but Aelin was the one who felt responsible for what had happened, even though everyone had told her not to think such things.

She couldn’t help it, though.

Instead of joining the others for dinner, Aelin opened up the morning paper and began reading it aloud. Although Vaughan didn’t stir, she liked to think that he was listening and knew he liked to stay informed. Once she’d gotten through the paper, she set it on the nightstand and gave him the news from the house, too.

“Lysandra has been taking care of Aedion, and he seems to be healing quickly,” Aelin began, sitting back in her chair with her feet propped on the side of the mattress. “I think it’s because Lys is giving him extra attention, but she denies that theory.”

Vaughan’s chest slowly rose and fell.

“Speaking of lovers, Gav has been trying to avoid Natalia as much as possible, but she’s been seeking him out, I swear,” Aelin said, and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yesterday, she passed behind him and pinched his ass, and I have never seen Gavriel’s cheeks get so red.”

It was hilarious. Aelin had left Vaughan’s side to go get a glass of water before bed, and she passed by them the second it happened. Despite everything that was going on, Aelin nearly cried she was laughing so hard.

“Tomorrow is Sunday, though, so that’s shit,” Aelin went on, her smile fading. “I’m worried about them, especially since you won’t be there.” She shook her head, looking away from Vaughan to the open window and the sun sinking down beyond the distant hills. “But Ro is adamant that they must make their move, and as much as I hate it, I understand it. The quicker Maeve is defeated, the better.”

Aelin couldn’t bear losing anyone else. Elide’s death had been tragic, and although she kept telling herself that Vaughan would wake up, if this shit with Maeve continued on, they would only lose another one of their family, and that was not okay.

Aelin wished she knew where Maeve was hiding so she could put a bullet into the bitch’s head herself. 

Unfortunately, though, that was impossible, because Rowan kept her completely out of the loop, and every time she tried to talk to him about it, she was only ignored.

She loved her husband, knew he was trying to protect her and their baby, but he was being a complete dick.

With a sigh, she looked back at Vaughan, picked up the book of poetry on his nightstand, and began reading, once more.

~~~~

Lorcan kissed Lucy’s head and laid her in the crib before walking to his adjoining room. He had rocked her to sleep, like Elide used to, and was surprised when she was snoring soundly five minutes later. He gave her one last look over his shoulder before he closed the door behind him.

The second he stepped into his room, he froze.

Natalia sat on the edge of his bed, reading a book.

He lifted a brow. “Get bored of Gavriel and want to fuck me, instead?”

Natalia’s eyes narrowed as she snapped her book shut. “No. You disgust me.”

“Damn, let me down easy, okay,” he muttered, plopping down in a wooden chair. As he untied his shoes, he asked, “What’s going on with you and Gav, anyways?”

She shrugged a shoulder as she said, “He is afraid to be with me, I am too much of a woman for him to handle.”

Lorcan laughed - a true, genuine laugh. “I could see that. You need a strong man, Natalia.”

Natalia hummed her agreement before asking, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Lorcan took a moment to think about his answer. No, he wasn’t, because if he died, he’d be taken away from Lucy, leaving her orphaned. And yet, he was, because if he died, he’d be able to find his wife in the afterlife and kiss her, once again.

At last, he shrugged. “Is anyone ever really ready to walk into battle?”

Natalia’s lips thinned as she nodded. “I suppose that is a valid question.” 

Lorcan nodded, taking a bottle of half-drunk whiskey from the table beside him and popping the top. “What do you think about America?”

Natalia froze, the question catching her off guard. “America?”

“Yeah,” Lorcan said. “I’ve been thinking that after this shit with Maeve is done, we could go there.” 

Natalia hesitated. “To live there?”

Lorcan shrugged, taking a massive chug from the bottle. “Why not?”

“Because your life is here,” Natalia said, quietly. “Because your family is here.”

Lorcan set the glass bottle back on the table, a little too hard. “Elide is my family. Lucy is my family. One of them is dead, the other goes with me wherever I go.”

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Natalia’s eyes softened. “You want to run away.”

He wanted to snap, wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but she wasn’t, and she knew it, as did he. So, he shook his head, slowly, inspecting a loose floorboard a few feet away from his bare toes. “Everywhere I look, I see her. It doesn’t matter where I am, or who I’m with, everywhere I go in this fucking city, I see her.”

Natalia shifted on the edge of the bed before asking, “And that pains you?”

His eyes snapped to hers as his jaw hardened. “What the fuck do you mean? Of course it pains me! I lost my fucking wife, Natalia!”

If Natalia was surprised at his outburst, she didn’t show it. She simply said, “And I lost a friend, and Lucy lost a mother. I know that Elide was the love of your life, Lorcan, which is why it surprises me that you wish to leave this city behind, for it is one of the few things you have left of her.”

A moment of silence passed before Lorcan reached to grab the bottle, once again. As he put the cool glass to his lips, Natalia spat, “That’s right, numb your emotions with alcohol. That’ll help.”

He slowly took the bottle from his lips as he met Natalia’s cold stare. “Fuck you.”

Natalia’s shoulders tensed as she stood up, abruptly, and began to leave the room.

“Fuck,” Lorcan breathed, almost tempted to let her go, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry, okay? I just...I didn’t mean that.”

Natalia froze, but she didn’t turn around. 

“I don’t know how to handle this,” Lorcan said, his voice growing quiet. “Yeah, I drink to numb it all, because the emotions are too much to handle, you know? No, I don’t know how to keep seeing her everywhere I look and realize that she’s not actually here, that she never will be again. And yes, sometimes that makes me want to run away and start over.”

For a moment, no one spoke, no one moved, but then Natalia slowly turned around to look at Lorcan. Her jaw was still rigid, her shoulders stiff, but her eyes were no longer cold. 

In a quiet voice, she said, “Elide would not want you to run, Lorcan. She would want you to be near your family, those you love, those she loved...and she would want you to be happy.”

Lorcan quickly looked away so that she wouldn’t see how his eyes grew misty. 

“It will take time,” Natalia said, turning her back to him, once more. “But, there is no shame in mourning, Lorcan.”

She was nearly out of his room when he called, “Natalia.”

She stopped, looking over her shoulder, waiting.

“You are my family, too,” he said, just in case she wasn’t aware.

She chuckled, but her eyes held a certain fondness as she said, “As you are mine.”

~~~~~

Lysandra kissed a sleeping Aedion on the forehead as she crept out of his bedroom and headed down to the kitchen. She couldn’t sleep, but figured a shot or two of whiskey would have her out in no time.

She was just around the corner when she heard a sudden clatter and froze. It was nearing midnight, and with everything going on, Lysandra’s mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. If it wasn’t for the f-fuck! that followed, Lysandra would have hauled ass the other direction.

She rounded the corner and found Rowan, eyelids drooped and his shirt half unbuttoned, sitting on the floor, his back leaned up against the cabinets with a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.

Although he was less than ten feet away, he raised his hand high in the air and waved.

Lysandra just shook her head and crossed her arms. “What the hell are you doing, Ro?”

He blinked, then raised the nearly-empty bottle. “Drinking.”

“I see that,” Lysandra said, with a sigh. “Shouldn’t you be upstairs in bed with your wife?”

Rowan snorted. “Fuck no, she doesn’t want to be around me.”

His words were slurred, his cheeks flushed. Lysandra rubbed her temples as she said, “You’re even stupider when you’re drunk, you know that? All she wants is to be around you.”

“No, she wants to know what’s going on,” Rowan corrected, his long finger pointed in Lysandra’s direction. “She wants to be a part of this fucking war, and that’s not going to happen.” 

“She feels like you’re keeping information-.”

“Obviously I’m keep-keeping information,” he said, blinking before he took another swig from the bottle. “The more information she knows, Lys, the more dangerous it is.”

“Aelin is tough-.”

“She’s carrying my fucking child.” The words came out hurried, quiet, and when Lysandra tried to meet his gaze, he quickly looked away. “Stay out of my marriage, Lys, and I won’t ask you about Ashryver, alright? Just...Just…”

“Just,” Lysandra repeated, voice full of sarcasm and venom, then kicked his boot. “Get up.”

“No,” he said, and downed the rest of the liquid from the bottle. “I’m content where I am.”

“Fuck, you’re pathetic,” Lysandra breathed, and reached down to tug on his arm. “Come on, you idiot, tomorrow is important and you need rest.”

He sighed, loudly and dramatically. “I can’t rest, Lys, I can’t fucking sleep!”

Lysandra froze and dropped his arm as his tone rang through the quiet kitchen. “Fine. Stay here, ignore your wife, be a dick.”

Lysandra went to take a step away, but then Rowan said, quietly, “I’m not a fucking dick, I’m trying to keep you all fucking safe. Pardon me if I need a fucking drink.”

With a defeated sigh, Lysandra slowly turned back around. He was a mess, dark circles beneath his eyes, his hair sticking up wildly, his close wrinkled. “What’s going on, Ro? You’ve been in plenty of shitty situations, and you’ve always kept yourself put together. You’re a fucking mess.”

“We’re all going to die,” he said, tossing his hands into the air. “Elide….now Vaughan is unconscious, and my wife blames herself, and nothing I say fucking helps. My wife, Lys, my pregnant wife came into the house two days ago covered in fucking blood, having just shot a man, because I wasn’t there to protect her. I have tried so damn hard to protect her, and all she does is get pissed at me for it.” 

“Ro-.”

“Remember when we were kids?” Rowan asked, staring up at the ceiling. “When we were just two fucking kids, and the world wasn’t on my shoulders? When the most interesting thing to happen to us was you and me, sneaking around behind Clarisse’s back? Fuck.”

“It was never easy, Ro,” Lysandra whispered. “Our lives have never been easy.” 

“No,” he agreed, “but everyone’s fate didn’t rest in my hands, either.”

Lysandra watched him for a moment. She could see the pain, the hurt, the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was because of that look, that heartbreak, that Lysandra reached out her hands and said, as gently as possible, “Come on, Ro. Let me walk you upstairs.”

For a second, he looked like he would protest, but then he took her hands and allowed her to help him up.

Gods, he was massive. Not only did he tower over her, but as drunk as he was, a lot of his weight fell into Lysandra, who barely stayed on her own two feet. 

But his arms were around her, clearly leaning on her for support. After a few failed attempts, and a few stumbles where Rowan ended up on the ground, they finally found their groove and walked through the silent house. The stairs took the longest to conquer, but once they reached the second floor, his bedroom was only a short distance.

When they got to the door of the master bedroom, Rowan froze.

Lysandra saw the internal war going on within him, as she had a hundred times before. 

“Just go lay with her, Ro,” she whispered. “Let her know that you love her.”

He nodded, nearly ready to fall over again, but then he let go of Lysandra and let himself inside. She was left alone in the hall, hurting for her best friend and for the boy that was now a man, the boy who was tossed into a world that he didn’t choose, a world that was eating him alive, slowly, day by day, hour by hour. 

~~~~~

Maeve sat in the den of her little home on the outskirts of town, a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other. She had discarded her heels, but her stockings and day clothes remained. She longed to be in something more comfortable, but with Cairn there, that would be horribly inappropriate. 

Although late, he had come to give her his daily report, as her second.

“And is there news on Vaughan?” she asked. It had been nearly all she’d thought about in two days, after her men returned saying that the quiet one had been injured. Her man, however, had been shot by Aelin Galathynius - Maeve had been keeping her out of it, because she was pregnant, but maybe she shouldn’t have been. If Rowan’s wife was dangerous, she should be added to the list, too. 

“He still lives, as far as I know,” Cairn replied, sitting in the large armchair across from her, near the blazing fire. 

Maeve hummed, unable to decide if that was a good thing or not. She had always been fond of Vaughan. Gavriel, too. “Very well. And how are things going for tomorrow?”

“Whitethorn wants to meet in a field beyond the city limits,” Cairn said. “As far as I know, we still have more men than they do, but we have to be weary of their gun supply. We’ve been trying to get a hold of new weapons, but in this city, that’s not easy, and having anything shipped in will take too long.”

Maeve sighed, running a hand through her dark, cropped hair. “They stole them from Arobynn, you can’t steal them back?”

“You make it sound like an easy task,” Cairn crooned. 

“If I wanted easy shit done, I would do it myself,” Maeve snapped, bringing the cigarette to her lips. “If they have the guns, we need to have something over them, something in our favor aside from a few extra men.”

She stilled then, the idea popping into her mind with such clarity that she couldn’t help but laugh, softly, forcing Cairn to look at his leader as if she’d gone mad.

“I’ve got it,” she breathed. “Oh, I’ve fucking got it.”

Carin blinked. “Mind sharing or should I take a guess?”

“All in good time, my love,” she said, her grin wide, wicked as she leaned back into her chair and continued to indulge herself. “You and the boys take care of tomorrow, and I will make a plan for what comes after that.”

A cruel, wicked plan for her boys.

After all, it was what they deserved.

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

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[throneofmak]

warning strong depiction of alcoholism/ alcohol abuse

Hiiii! I’m back with terrible angsty writing. This one is about Rowan and Aelin, it is also on the sadder side (I’m so sorry in advanced). Regardless, I hope you enjoy, sometimes you just need a good cry lol

The rain clicks on the roof of her house. It’s just past 3 in the morning, and Aelin can’t sleep yet again. She’s beginning to not notice how tired she is all the time, just passing it off as her normal behavior. Some nights she stays awake all night, watching the stars shift from one side of the sky to the other, just another thing to distract her from her own emptiness. Her phone suddenly lights up, breaking her thoughts from the stars, but she already knows who’s calling her. He’s right on schedule, just around the time he’s drank another bottle of bourbon and begins to lose his filter. Aelin has gotten so many of Rowan’s calls recently it’s stopped cracking her heart each time, not that it’s even possible to crack away at an already shattered heart. He finally stops waiting for her to pick up and let’s it go to voicemail. Aelin decides she’ll listen to it, telling herself it won’t make her cry. She clicks on it with trembling fingers.

“Hey baby. I know you’re ignoring my calls each night. I don’t blame you. Um, shit, sorry I know I can’t call you baby anymore. Okay, fuck, just listen please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never meant for it to get this bad. I never meant for it to get in between us, but I can’t stop. I’m sorry, did I say that already? Anyways, Aelin I need help, it’s gotten really bad. It’s not your problem though, okay it’s not your problem so why am I leaving this voicemail? Okay, I’m hanging up, I’m sorry, I still love you, to whatever end, okay bye.”

One voicemail each night for three weeks. You think she would get used to the overwhelming pain it brings her to hear Rowan’s voice saying he’s sorry over and over again. Still calling her baby in his slurred speech that’s she’s gotten all too used to. The alcohol has always been the problem, the reason she had to leave him despite the hollowness it created inside her. He wasn’t always dependent on it, the first two years of their relationship was magical, riveting, amazing. A moment in her life when Aelin knew she wanted to marry him, wanted to have children with him. Rowan would be the perfect father,a loving father, especially to a little girl. Then the third year of being together came along, and slowly Aelin started to witness the love of her life become a stranger. Rowan started staying out late after work, calling Aelin around midnight to pick him up from their local bar. He started to call in sick from work and spend his day going from one bar to the next, downing bottles of bourbon like it was pure water. It became a routine that he knew would kill him. Aelin knew that Rowan thought it was toxic, but she also knew he wouldn’t be able to give it up, and she couldn’t help him. That’s what killed her the most. The voicemail continues to ring in her head, his words resonating. He knows he needs help, at least he’s accepted that, something small to hold onto. No matter how bad it gets, Aelin will always know he’s still in there somewhere, the man she couldn’t seem to fall out of love with.

The knock on her door shocks her, seeing as it’s only 3:45 in the morning now. Aelin is hesitant to even get up off her bed, but she does anyway, immediately shaking off the nostalgia of her failed relationship. She carefully looks through the peephole, making sure she’s not breathing too loud. What she sees on the other side completely paralyzes her, not with fear but with complete confusion. She opens the door just as she realizes she stopped breathing, Rowan walks in stopping in the living room and stares out the back doors into the skyline. Aelin hasn’t seen him in three weeks, hasn’t looked at him in three weeks. He slowly turns around making direct eye contact with her, she feels her stomach plummet just at the feeling of his emerald eyes on her turquoise ones.

“Hi”

Rowan says it like he’s not the one who chose alcohol over the girl who loved every cell in his body. Acting as if him coming over this late at night was something normal.

“What the fuck are you doing here.”

“I just um. I just needed to see you Ae.”

Aelin can feel her temper boil up. She doesn't want to yell at him, she doesn't want to be mad at him, but he broke her. This is his fault. Aelin did everything right, cared for him as much as she could. Rowan broke his promises not her. He has no right to be standing in her living room on a Saturday night at 3:45 in the morning.

“Rowan. You don’t get to show up here and say that. I’m not yours anymore. I haven’t been yours for a while.”

“Don’t say that please. Please. You know I can fix it. I’ll do it right this time baby please. Just forgive me, I can’t stop loving you. We said to whatever end Ae.”

“You promised me. You promised me last time that you would stop. Rowan I begged you to stop drinking, night after night, and you never listened to me. You could never give it up, you’d rather have a drink over a night with me. That is why I can’t forgive you, you broke me Rowan, you shattered me with your own hands and you were too drunk to notice.”

He’s walking over to her now. Placing his hands on her shaking arms.

“Aelin, stop it. I never did that, I would never do that. Please just come back to me. I need you, I don’t know who I am without you, please.”

“No Rowan. I can’t. I loved you. I still love you. I love you more than I think I will ever love anyone. But you broke me, again. You lost me, please don’t make me go through it again. If you love me like you say you do, you need to let me go. I can’t do it again, I can’t take the pain anymore. I can’t help you, I can’t fix you, I can’t be there for you anymore. Please Ro.”

A tear makes its way down her cheek, another one following it. Rowan brushes it off with his calloused hand, his fingers resting on her cheekbone. She leans into his touch, she knows just as good as himself that it will be the last time they will be together. Aelin can see the tear slip down his own cheek as he leans his face down towards hers. One last kiss, one last moment, one last night together. Rowan places his lips on hers, a delicate kiss, one full of the memories they shared together. Aelin knows it’s time to pull away, time to say goodbye. Rowan’s face is inches away from hers, his tears mixed with her own.

“I love you, to whatever end. Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you. It’s time for me to let you go baby.”

Aelin doesn't have time to say anything, do anything, before he walks out, closes the door gently, and never turns back. She stands staring at the shut door, taking a step towards it. She knows it took everything in him to leave her, she knows he wants to be there for her but he can’t. However much she tells herself he loves her, it doesn't take away the numbness she constantly feels. Aelin can barely hear anything but the ringing in her ears, as she puts her back to the door, slides down to the floor in agony, and sobs until she runs out of tears to cry. Maybe one day she’ll stop feeling as if she could’ve done more to help him, but for now her puddle of tears keeps her comfort as she falls asleep on her cold, empty, living room floor.

[worldoffae]

My Small Joy - Rowaelin AU

A/N: Strap in cause chapter 3 is a long one. I feel like my biggest struggle is dialog and getting it to flow good so I hope this chapter turned out okay. Next chapter will be pretty steamy - so be ready. ;)

Story Rating: Explicit (brief mentions of sex)

Summary: Six months ago Aelin got the worst news of her life. She would never be able to get pregnant, to give birth to a baby that she so desperately wanted. Deciding that Aelin needs some fun in her life, Lysandra takes her out to a club where she meets the silver haired man of her dreams. A one-night stand takes a turn when 6 weeks later Aelin finds out she’s pregnant! Her world is turned upside down when she runs into him again at a coffee shop. Aelin tells him the truth and this handsome stranger tells her he wants to raise their baby together and she agrees.

Masterlist

Chapter 3: 

The semester ended and just like that, Aelin was officially done with college. At least that was one less thing for her to worry about. Between working at the bookstore and trying to find an internship Aelin spent almost all of her free time with Rowan.

It had been six weeks since she found out she was pregnant and had run into him again. It had been six weeks of them slowly opening up to one another and telling each other secrets they had kept hidden for so long.

Aelin learned that outside of Rowan’s sexy and brooding exterior, he was actually incredibly kind and sweet. He was born in Ireland and lived there up until three years ago. When he was younger his father’s job would often send him to America to work so they would spend a few months of the year there before going home to Ireland.

He told her about his wife that was killed by a drunk driver. They had met in high school and dated throughout college before they got married. She was a month pregnant by the time they had their wedding. After she died, Rowan had spiraled for a couple of years. He sold their house and lived on his own in a shitty apartment. His friends, the people he currently worked with, had convinced him to come and work with them. Their company relocated them to New York and he’s been living here for the last three years.

He worked for a photography company. Rowan showed her some of his photos and he was pretty damn good. 

Aelin spilled her guts about her own past. She was terrified he would decide he had made a mistake and would run out of her life. Besides Lysandra, her own friends didn’t know everything she had done. Not even Aedion. But Rowan took it in stride and held her hand through it all. He didn't judge her, just looked at her with understanding that she did what she had to to survive.

She lost her parents when she was twelve years old. The foster system had trouble contacting any known family since her aunt, Aedion’s mom, and her own mother weren’t on talking terms. So they placed Aelin in a group home that was under the careful watch of a now known criminal, Arobynn Hamel.

The group home is where she had met Lysandra and Sam. They got there about a year after she started living there. Arobynn trained Aelin to be a petty thief. Trained all of them. Told them that if they wanted to continue living in such a nice place with somebody that cared about them, they had to earn their keep. By the time Aelin turned 18 and was able to leave, she was scary good at stealing.

At first, she hated Sam and Lysandra. But she and Sam were the best at being criminals so they were often teamed up for jobs. And they ended up falling in love. He was a year older than her and was able to leave the home before she could. He went to academy to become a cop. He said he wanted to right all the wrong he was forced to do.

When Aelin turned 18, she moved in with Sam. Aelin worked at a disgusting bar illegally to help pay for the apartment. She and Sam talked about what their life would be like, about how much they loved each other and how excited they were for a day they could start their own family.

Sam was officially a cop and had begun working to uncover the truth about who Arobynn Hamel was. He was the lead officer in the bust that led to Arobynn being arrested. But Arobynn knew they were coming and put up a fight. Sam was shot and killed during the bust.

Aelin had sat up waiting for him to come home. It was around midnight that she got the call saying Sam had been fatally shot. She had fallen to her knees on the spot and screamed at what had been stolen from her. For what had been stolen from the nineteen year old that had his whole life ahead of him. She ended up robbing a pawn shop and stealing a gun. She was mad with grief and tried to break into the jail they were holding Arobynn at to kill him. She didn’t make it far before she was arrested.

Aelin ended up spending a few months in jail. Lysandra was the one that picked her up when she got out. She had heard about what happened to Sam and her. She offered Aelin a place to live. She said she didn’t want to hold onto the anger that was fed to them from Arobynn and Aelin agreed.

A few months later and Adeion had shown up at her doorstep. Her cousin had finally tracked her down and found out where she was. He moved into town and they got to know each other again.

She had never even told Chaol about going to jail. Once when they were dating he had locked himself out of his apartment. Aelin had picked the lock to open the door and he made it very clear that he wanted no part in any illegal activities. So she had kept her past hidden to him and he had never asked. No wonder their relationship crashed and burned.

A chime from her phone brought Aelin back to the present. She pulled it out of her pocket to find a text from Rowan.

Saw this and thought you might like it.

Attached was a photo of a small puppy with its butt in the air and paws splayed out in front of it, tongue hanging out while it stared at a caterpillar.

She felt her lips pull into a smile. She was beginning to form a reply of her own when she heard a familiar voice call her name.

“Aelin?”

She looked up from her phone to see Dorian walking towards her. His face brightened up when she saw him. Shit, she thought.

She hadn’t seen him since that party right after she and Chaol had broken up. When she had just found out the news that she wouldn’t be able to bear a child and had been a mess. They probably all thought she was broken over their break-up.

“Hey, Dorian. How are you?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful. 

“I’m good. But, how are you? I haven’t seen you in forever. What’s it been, like half a year?” Dorian said. He leaned in and wrapped Aelin in a big hug.

“Yeah, something like that,” she forced out.

Dorian looked at her up and down and Aelin was grateful for the thick jacket she was wearing to ward off the cold January air. She was beginning to show a little and she wasn’t ready for that conversation.

His eyes softened as he said, “We all really miss you, Aelin.”

“I’m really sorry I haven’t been around. These last few months have been… difficult. I had some things I needed to work through.”

He nodded. “I get it. I’m actually having a birthday party tonight, if you’d maybe come? Aedion and Lysandra will be there. I had asked Lysandra to ask you to come but I had never heard back.”

Aelin opened up her mouth to make an excuse and realized she had none. “Um, yeah, I can try to be there.”

Dorian perked up a little at that and smiled at her. “Great. It’s at my place at 8.”

Aelin felt panic begin clawing its way through her chest at the thought of having to go alone. So she said, “Could I bring a friend?”

Surprise flashed across his face. “Yeah, that’s fine with me. It’ll just be the usual gang so the more the merrier.”

Aelin smiled a small smile and nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you tonight then. I gotta go though. Doctor’s appointment.”

They hugged again and went their separate ways.

Aelin pulled her phone out as she continued walking down the street and sent a text to Rowan.

Hey, how would you feel about going to a party with me tonight?

She watched the ellipses pop up as she opened the door to her doctor’s office and walked inside. A party? An odd request for somebody who can’t drink.

I couldn’t think of an excuse to get out of it. It’s for a birthday party. What do you say, Buzzard? You in?

“Your wish is my command,” a deep and accented voice said in her ear.

Aelin jumped at the sound of his voice. “Shit you scared me,” she said as she smacked Rowan’s arm.

He chuckled and walked with her as she got checked in at the front desk. They sat down and waited for her name to be called.

“I ran into Dorian on the way here,” Aelin said, her knee bouncing.

“Oh?” Rowan’s brows rose. 

She nodded. “The birthday party is for him. I got a bit nervous about going by myself.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Rowan said, “Why not ask Lysandra or Aedion to go with you?”

“They’re already going to be there.” Rowan had already met the two of them and he and Aedion got along a lot better than Aelin thought they would. “You can say no to going, you know.”

“That’s not why I asked,” Rowan said softly when he noticed the change in Aelin’s tone. “Me being there will just bring up questions and I didn’t know if that was something you were ready for.”

Aelin took a deep breath. Rowan was just trying to be thoughtful. She needed to stop jumping to conclusions and assume he was trying to find an out. He had more than proven how badly he wanted this baby too. 

So instead she shook her head and said, “I know. But I’d really like for them to meet you anyways. I’m going to have to come clean about this pregnancy at some point and that will just start the whole, ‘Well who’s the father?’ questions.”

“So I’m the one being outed now.” Rowan’s chuckle sent shivers down Aelin’s spine and she tried her best to keep it from showing.

“I’ll just introduce you as my friend. They don’t need to know that part yet. But I do miss them. And I don’t want to hide the shit I’ve been dealing with anymore.”

She felt Rowan’s gaze on her and she snuck a glance at him. There was a softness in his eyes and smile that had her breath catching in her throat. She had done her best to ignore the feelings he brought up in her. And she had caught him on more than one occasion giving her the same heated looks she gave him when he wasn’t looking to know he felt the same. The agreement was to get to know each other first. They had their baby to think about.

“Galythinius?”

Aelin tore her eyes from Rowan to look at the nurse that called her name. She stood up and Rowan did the same before they followed the nurse to her room. Aelin got settled on the bed and waited for the doctor.

“Hello. Are you Aelin Galythinius? I’m doctor Towers. It’s nice to meet you,” the doctor said. She was beautiful with her long, curly hair and golden skin. She gave Aelin a smile as she nodded.

“I know this pregnancy has been a bit scary so far. But today is a day to celebrate. You’re at 12 weeks so you're officially done with your first trimester! The chances for a miscarriage are much lower. Are you excited to see your baby today?” Doctor Towers asked as she set up the ultrasound machine.

“I am so excited. Still scared though.” Aelin blew out a breath and smoothed a hand over her small bump.

Dr. Towers glanced up beneath long lashes at Rowan before getting settled in her chair. “And are you the father?”

Rowan nodded and looked at Aelin. “Yes I am. And I am also very excited to see our baby today.” He took Aelin’s hand and smiled. Gods he was so handsome.

Dr. Towers nodded and put on her gloves. “Okay, let's get started then. If you could pull your shirt up a bit and unbutton your pants for me, Ms. Galythinius. Yes, that’s good, thank you. Now this is going to be cold.”

She squirted the ultrasound gel onto her stomach and Aelin flinched a litte. “Shit you weren’t kidding.”

Rowan chuckled and the doctor smiled. She put the wand against Aelin’s abdomen and Aelin squeezed her eyes shut as the doctor began moving it around to find the baby. She heard an intake of breath beside her and opened her eyes to find Rowan leaning down next to her. She saw tears begin forming in his eyes.

“Look, Aelin,” he breathed, his eyes not leaving the screen. “It’s our baby.”

Aelin tore her eyes away from him to look at the screen. She was too scared to look at first. She still felt like this was all some dream she would wake up from soon. But there on the screen was the small bean in gray and white. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling as she took in the tiny figure. 

She pressed her shaking fingers against her lips and let out a little, “Oh. There it is.”

Rowan gently took her hand in his and squeezed. She could feel his own shaking like hers. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Dr. Tower’s froze the screen. “Your baby is looking very healthy. It looks like it’s right on track and there’s nothing to worry about. Just keep doing what you’re doing, okay? Would you like a picture to take home with you?” Aelin nodded so fast she thought she would give herself whiplash. “Can we have a few, please?” she whispered, her eyes still not leaving the screen.

The doctor smiled and nodded. “I can do that. I’d like to schedule you for a 16 week check up if that’s alright with you. Since this is a higher risk pregnancy I’d like to have you in for check ups more often than I usually would. I’ll meet you at the front with your pictures.”

Dr. Towers stood and handed Aelin a wipe for her stomach and left them to have a moment to themselves. 

Aelin felt a sob work itself out of her throat and Rowan leaned his forehead against hers. She let herself lean into it, let herself breathe in his pine and snow scent to steady herself. 

After a moment she looked up at Rowan’s face. She could see the tears and happy smile that lit up his face. “Our baby. I can’t fucking believe it,” she said, taking another shuddering breath.

“Our baby,” Rowan echoed.

Aelin laced her fingers with Rowan’s and smiled at him with no restraint. The pure happiness on his face was mirrored on hers and together they looked at the tiny bean that was their small joy.

-----

Hours later and Aelin found herself standing at Dorian’s apartment door. She was fiddling with the zipper of her jacket in anticipation of what was to come. Rowan slid a hand to her lower back and Aelin glanced up at him, grateful for the comfort.

Underneath she wore a red empire waisted dress. It stopped just above her knees and she wore a simple pair of flats. Her hair was half up and half down and it fell in loose waves. Rowan had let out a whistle of appreciation when he had picked her up at her apartment and she tried to hide her blush.

He wasn’t looking too shabby either in his dark green button down shirt and tight pants. Although he could be wearing a trash bag and still be hot as hell. She told him as much and that earned her a blush of his own.

Aelin took a steading breath and nodded before she knocked on the door. She felt Rowan’s hand fall from her back and she found herself missing the contact. But she straightened her spine and stood tall, trying for that old swagger that was slowly coming back to her.

The door swung open and Dorian’s wide grin met them. He faltered slightly when he took Rowan in beside her but recovered. “Aelin! Welcome! This must be your friend.” Dorian shook Rowan’s hand as he continued, “I’ll admit, though, that when Aelin asked if she could bring a friend I assumed it would be a woman.”

Aelin rolled her eyes as she nudged her way into the apartment. “Of course you did. Not getting laid enough these days, Dorian?”

Dorian let out a howl of laughter and shut the door behind them. “Everyone, Aelin’s here!”

They took off their coats and walked out of the entryway hall and into the living room. Seated on the loveseat were Aedion and Lysandra, smiles on both their faces as the latter waved at Aelin and Rowan. On the couch was Chaol and a beautiful woman with golden skin and thick, curly hair pulled up in a bun.

Aelin stopped dead in her tracks as she made eye contact with the woman. Recognition lit up her eyes as she noticed the two of them and Aelin’s eyes fell to Chaol and her hands intertwined. Shit shit shit. 

Her doctor was Chaol’s new girlfriend.

Her hesitation went unnoticed by Dorian as he made introductions. “Aelin, this is Yrene. Yrene, this is Aelin. I’m really hoping Chaol told you about them having dated or this is about to be real awkward.”

Dr. Towers, or Yrene, tried to hide her amused smile. Aelin couldn’t help but let out a rasp of a laugh. She felt Rowan’s steading presence behind her and took a step forward so she didn’t lean into him.

“We’ve met actually. She’s my new OBGYN.”

Chaol’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked between his girlfriend and his ex.

Yrene nodded in confirmation. “It seems this was always going to be a little awkward at first, huh?” Amusement lit her eyes as she looked at Chaol and back at Aelin. 

Oh, Aelin liked this woman.

Chaol turned his eyes to Rowan. He looked like he was about to say something when Dorian interrupted. “And this is… I actually never got your name,” he said, gesturing to Rowan.

Rowan stepped up to Aelin’s side and extended his hand to Dorian and then Chaol. “I’m Rowan. I’m Aelin’s friend.”

She could see how the three others looked at Rowan with questions on the tip of their tongues. Aelin hadn’t come around in seven months and all of a sudden she brought a guy friend with her. She would be curious too.

“An accent,” Dorian said, waggling his eyebrows. “What is that, Scottish?”

“Irish, actually,” Rowan answered. He didn’t supply any more information and silence fell.

“What’s up, man,” Aedion said, breaking the awkward tension. He stood and pulled Rowan into a half hug and clapped him on the back. They said their greetings and Lysandra came up and said hi, smiling and batting her eyelashes at him. Aedion grumbled and Aelin laughed.

“There’s beer in the fridge if you want one,” Aedion said to Rowan, walking into Dorian’s kitchen and helping himself. Rowan gave Aelin a look and shrugged before he followed suit. Aelin tried to hide her smile and failed.

Dorian stood for another second before he seated himself next to Chaol on the couch. Lysandra sat in her spot again and Aelin took a seat on the floor in front of the coffee table.

“I can go grab a chair for you, A,” Dorian said quickly, starting to get up. “I didn’t know if you were going to be able to make it so I didn’t grab it earlier, but-”

Aelin shook her head and he stopped. “I’m okay here.”

Dorian looked unsure but sat down again.

Chaol was the one to speak next. “So, what have you been up to, Aelin? We haven’t seen you since…” he trailed off, looking like he was unsure if he should continue.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Since shortly after we broke up. You can say it, Choal. And before either of you two try asking,” she said with a pointed look at Dorian and Chaol, “no, I wasn’t a mess last time you saw me because I was hung up on Chaol.”

Dorian leaned forward at that. “Then what was it? Like, shit, A. You two break up and then we see you a month after it and you’re drunk off your ass and tell us all to stop asking you what was wrong. What else were we supposed to think?”

Rowan and Aedion had walked back in as Dorian started talking and they took their respective seats, Rowan sitting down next to Aelin.

Aelin took a deep breath, preparing herself for the conversation she had been dreading. She hated being open and vulnerable.

She felt Rowan’s knee brush against hers as he readjusted himself. She knew it was intentional. To remind her that he was beside her.

“I was a mess at that party because I had just had a doctor’s appointment where I was told I would never be able to get pregnant.”

She watched as Dorian and Chaol’s faces fell. Chaol opened his mouth to say something but Aelin held up a hand.

“Clearly, I didn’t handle the news well. But I should have been honest with you guys instead of pushing all of you away. I realized that and I’m really sorry for doing that.”

Both of them shook their heads. “Aelin,” Dorian said. “You don’t need to apologize. Yes, I think both Chaol and I both would have appreciated it, but you don’t owe us anything. But I wish we could have been there for you.”

Aelin nodded, looking down at the table where her hands were crossed. She pulled them off the table and into her lap as they started shaking. “There’s more. Another reason I realized I didn't hide from you guys anymore, no matter how awkward it would be to have to explain everything.”

She looked up and held her chin high as she pulled the ultrasound picture out of her pocket. She saw Lysandra sit up abruptly out of the corner of her eye and could hear her intake of breath. She hadn’t told them she was getting her first scan today.

Aelin watched as Chaol and Dorian sat forward to get a better look at the picture. Their jaws went slack when they realized what it was. Their eyes shot up to Aelin’s.

“I’m twelve weeks pregnant today,” she said.

“Shit, A,” Dorian breathed. His face broke out in a huge grin. “That’s amazing!” He hesitated. “It is amazing, right? You’re happy?”

This time Aelin didn’t try to hide her smile as her eyes fell back onto the photo. “Yes,” she breathed. “I’m very happy.”

“I’m so angry you didn’t tell me you got your scan today,” Lysandra said, picking up the ultrasound picture. “But I’m so happy for you, Aelin. Does this mean I can finally start buying baby things?”

Aelin laughed and shook her head. “Soon. Not quite yet.”

Lysandra huffed in annoyance but the smile didn’t leave her face as she handed it to Aedion. She saw the tears well up in his eyes but he didn’t say anything as he handed it back. She knew that would come when they had a moment alone. Neither of them were fans of crying in public.

“I have to ask,” Dorian finally said, his eyes darting to Rowan and back to Aelin. “But who’s the father?”

“Why is that important?” Aelin asked. She knew this question was going to come but gods, she really didn’t want to explain how it had happened to them.

“Because you just told us that you lost your shit after you found out you couldn’t get pregnant, then tell us that by some miracle you are, and you brought your ‘friend’,” Dorian used air quotes for the word friend, “to my party. One can only assume.”

Aelin opened her mouth, trying to think of an excuse to deny it, when Lysandra chimed in. “No, don’t you dare, Aelin. I know you’re going to try and come up with some lame excuse so you can save yourself the embarrassment, so let me do it for you.” She turned to everyone else. “Aelin needed to get laid so I took her to a club where she fucked Rowan in the bathroom.”

Rowan choked on his beer and flushed while Aelin cried in outrage, “Lysandra!”

She threw her hands up. “What?” she said. “It’s true and I don’t want any more secrets.”

Rowan chuckled. “She’s not wrong.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to agree with her,” Aelin said in exasperation, swatting his muscled arm. Rowan chuckled again and grabbed her hands in his to get her to stop hitting.

Chaol spoke this time. “So you two are just friends?”

She could see the questions in his eyes. That he could see that answer for the lie it was. Before she might have interpreted it as him being jealous. But she could see how relaxed he seemed around Yrene, their hands still intertwined. She could see now that they had both moved forward and were maybe at the point where they could try to be friends again.

“For now, yes,” Rowan answered for her. Aelin’s head whipped in his direction.

Choal looked at Rowan for a beat before he nodded. He smiled. “I’m happy for you guys. This is really great, Aelin.”

Aelin looked back at Rowan and smiled, her hand smoothing over her stomach for the thousandth time that day. “Yes, it really is.”

-----

Rowan walked Aelin back to her apartment door. They got to her door and Aelin unlocked it but made no move to open it. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodnight yet.

“What did you mean when you said that we’re just friends ‘for now’?” she asked.

Rowan smiled slightly, lifting a hand to tuck some hair behind her ear. His fingers grazed against her cheek and her eyes fluttered at the small touch.

“I meant,” he rumbled, “that I know we agreed to get to know each other and take things slow for the sake of our baby. But I also had every intention of asking you out on a date tonight.”

Aelin didn’t think she was breathing. “And now?” 

“And now,” he said, stepping closer so they were sharing breath, “ that I still have every intention of doing just that. So, would you want to go out on a date with me tomorrow night?”

Aelin had to tilt her head up to look him in the eye. She could see the mischief dancing there. But she could also see the hope there.

Aelin smiled at him. “I’d love to.”

Rowan’s eyes dropped to her lips and she tracked the movement. She saw a slight blush grace his cheeks and he swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. She tracked that movement too.

So she leaned up on her toes and let her lips graze his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Buzzard.”

Rowan let out a breathy chuckle that had Aelin involuntarily leaning into his warmth. She felt his hand gently grasp her hip and she pulled back. She flashed him another dazzling smile and winked at him before she opened the door and stepped inside, shutting the door in his face.

[mychemicalficrecs]

do you have any longer frikey fics, preferably bottom frank if theres smut

I do have some longer Frank/Mikey stuff, but no guarantee on bottom Frank!

Longer Frank/Mikey

Emotional Brilliance by kopperblaze, 21k, Mature. Toro and Mikey are a good team, Mikey doesn’t get why Brian had to hire someone else. In particular he doesn’t get why Brian had to hire Frank, who knows nothing about Lush products and who's incapable of keeping his mouth shut. Lush!AU. The one where Ray is a skin care expert, Frank is obnoxious, Mikey is annoyed and Pete leaves glittery handprints all over everything.

Gross roomies by turps, 36k, Explicit. Frank loves living with Mikey. Sure, the apartment is a mess, the kitchen's a toxic wasteland, and there's something growing in the refrigerator that's just a day or two away from becoming sentient, but other than those minor inconveniences, it's all cool. Or it is until Mikey decides to embark on a journey of sexual discovery and adventure and Frank's left at home with nothing but the fridge monster for company. To make matters worse, Mikey insists on telling Frank everything he does with his new kinky friends, right down to the tiniest detail. And now suddenly Frank is best friends with his right hand and he can't stop thinking about Mikey in ways he never has before. The really big problem, other than suddenly being in lust with his best friend, is that Frank isn't sure why.

Won't Know 'til You Begin by knight_tracer, Sena, 24k, Explicit. In which Frank is an accidental pervert, Mikey sleeps with Fabio, Gerard is much too sincere when talking about pain sluts, Ray is terrible with women and great with guitars, and Otter's got really bad taste in music. Alternately, the one where Frank realizes he has a thing for Mikey, Mikey realizes he has a thing for guys, and they're both adorably stupid failboats.

On Air by ladyfoxxx, 15k, Teen And Up Audiences. Frank's a radio DJ at an alternative station, spinning punk tracks and talking shit. When he gets handed the most popular show at the station to host, his first guests are independent horror filmmakers Gerard and Mikey Way.

Standing on a Planet that's Evolving and Revolving by Green, 13k, Explicit. The evolution of Frank Iero, age 15.

Buenas Noches From A Lonely Room by Femme (femmequixotic), 15k, Explicit. Frank wants to touch Mikey, to slide his fingers across the sharp angle of his cheek just below his glasses, to drag his thumb along the curve of his bottom lip, to smooth his palm down Mikey's long throat.

What Dreams May Come by sperrywink, 15k, Explicit. His career in music derailed, Frank never met the other guys in My Chemical Romance. A silly tale of teleportation.

a scent and a sound by mwestbelle, 15k, Explicit. In an urban fantasy world where werewolves can't hold a decent job and no roommate wants them, werewolf Frank is looking for an apartment. He finds one with Mikey Way.

Heart Wrapped in Clover by Sena, 19k, Explicit. Everbody's got their not-so-secret secrets on tour. When you live out of a van, you just can't help but notice things that you shouldn't talk about if you don't want to embarrass your friends or start a fight. Frank wishes sometimes they talked about things, though, because he's dying to ask if anybody else has noticed that sometimes, Mikey wears panties.

Tints Verse by turps, 65k, Mature. A MCR AU where Ray has his own gardening firm, and one day he does a job for the Ways.

We Used To Be Friends by ladyfoxxx, 50k, Explicit. "You and me, right Mikes?" "Yeah, fuck everybody else." Best friends since high school, if Frank could've chosen a brother, he'd pick Mikey. Then Mikey became a rock star and Frank... didn't. After years of radio silence, Mikey steps onto a stage in Jersey and back into Frank's life. (Or, the one where Frank is a school teacher and Mikey plays rhythm in The Used.)

And the Painted Ponies by turps, 35k, Mature. After years of struggling to be taken seriously as a bodyguard, Frank Iero is finally well established. He loves his boss, Ray, he loves his job, and he prides himself on his professionalism. But then he's assigned to be the personal bodyguard of Mikey Way. Mikey Way, aka Roboboy, is a successful high fashion model. Loved by designers and the public alike for his trademark lack of emotion, but mocked by the tabloid press for the exact same reason. Mikey is someone that Frank's sure he'll hate. Except it doesn't work out that way. In fact, it doesn't take long before Frank discovers he really likes Mikey. Maybe too much.

Better Than A Paid Life by gala_apples, 15k, Explicit. Gerard and Mikey Way are the Killjoys, a motorbaby duo. That is, until their car gets wrecked in a battle and the dashboard accessory of their new Trans Am is an ex-Companion with a mission.

Crash by Gorgeous Nerd (gorgeousnerd), 26k, Explicit. In a future version of Seattle, Frank Iero's a lot of things: bike messenger, cage fighter, sometimes thief, Ray Toro's roommate. Mikey Way's also a lot of things: record label owner, co-heir to his grandmother's fortune, younger brother. Neither are normal. But they don't know just how far each other's abnormalities go until Frank's past and a secret of Mikey's unexpectedly shove together. (Dark Angel AU.)

Sound Tracking by turps, 46k, Mature. The beat is muted, almost non-existent, and the loss hits Bob hard. He's used to living his life in a constant thrum of sound, sensing those around him, the rhythm of the universe a constant companion, but here there's almost nothing. He can feel the sound that's been pulling him for weeks now, but little else. This place is dead, almost silent, and Bob aches with the feeling of being cast into nothingness. A MCR - Bob and Gerard centric space AU where Gerard's band has been taken from him and Bob helps find them. Also features FOB, especially Pete.

Drink Cider From a Lemon by turps, 20k, General Audiences. A story about friendship, love and building your own kind of home.

Mikey Way and the Quest for the Stone by Roxy_palace, 29k, Explicit. “I’m in Colombia!” Mikey said, raising his voice over the crackle of a poor connection. “No. no, no, no, no,” James wailed. Mikey could really relate to his disbelief. He couldn't believe he was in mother fucking Colombia either.

Below the Trees, Which Are Below the Stars by alpheratz, 38k, Explicit. In the mid-1920s, Gerard and Mikey moved to France - Gerard to pursue art, Mikey because he couldn't stay behind. Now, it's 1930, and Mikey's become an airmail pilot, flying the mail route to Dakar with his navigator Frank. For a long time, the only rough thing about Mikey's life was the strain on his and Gerard's soulbond when Mikey was away, but his growing feelings for Frank and the arrival of Frank's old friend Ray could change everything.

Food of Love by Lucifuge5, 12k, Teen And Up Audiences. Ever since it re-opened, Frank's been "Sweet Nothings"'s number one customer. That he harbors a gigantic crush on one of the owners is something that he's kept to himself for the most part (Ray will never tell a soul.) It's not until he strikes a friendship with the older brother of the object of his affection that he 'fesses up. Moved by Frank's pining, Gerard promises to help Frank woo Mikey. Complications arise when Gerard's "helpful advice" is anything but. Will Frank be successful in his courtship or are his chances to win Mikey's heart as ruined as a burnt cupcake?

You Only Hear The Music (When Your Heart Begins To Break) by Acadjonne, 28k, Mature. Mikey and Frank have known each other for years. They're roommates, and best friends. They're also friends with benefits. The arrangement is casual, and it suits them both. Somewhere along the way, Mikey develops feelings for Frank, but he pushes them aside. They aren't important, he'll be fine. Or, Mikey is fine, until he somehow ends up pregnant a year into this thing with Frank, and all of a sudden, he's got more to deal with than just how long he'll be able to hide his feelings for Frank or how the hell he's supposed to afford his transition.

Give Me A Reason To Believe (Failboats In Love) by Acadjonne, 14k, Teen And Up Audiences. On the night of October 31st, Linda and Frank Iero welcome a baby boy into their family. He weighs six pounds, four ounces, and is nineteen inches long. They give him a family name, and he becomes the third Iero man to bear the name of Frank. A year later, on All Hallow's Eve, a sleeping baby is taken from his crib and replaced with a fake. The babe will later be taken from the hands of the goblin that stole him, and he will be raised by two rowan treefolk, a house brownie, and some pixies. ----- When Ray walks down the stairs to the Way family basement, the last thing Mikey expects to see is a scrappy and long-haired form following behind him. But as he later finds out, Frank is almost always unexpected in the best of ways, the rest of the world be damned.

Death's Muse by TheFratelliEffect, 53k [WIP], Mature. Lonely and depressed, Mikey Way is battling through the drab years that immediately follow college. Struggling to make a living as an artist, Mikey has became a battered down, quiet introvert whom wants nothing to do with the abusive romance he is unwillingly involved in. On a cold winter morning, the starving artist is confronted with the opportunity to paint Frank Iero, the Midnight Falls' elusive, young doctor, which he takes up immediately. Love and lust ensure as the story opens on the painter as he meets his muse.

Gallons Of The Stuff by MCRmyGeneral, 20k, Explicit. Frank has been amused by blood for as long as he can remember. When he was a child, it was a simple fascination; the way it felt on his hands, the way it looked dripping to the floor, the way it smelled. But as he grew older, that simple fascination morphed into a daring lust. Blood no longer amused him, now it turned him on. Frank has never intentionally hurt someone just to see their blood. He just takes what he can get whenever an accident happens. But when Mikey is hurt bad, Frank discovers how hard it is to keep his hands, and thoughts, to himself. He loves Mikey, he has for a long time. But now, he finds his silence so much harder to keep. He has two choices: either tell Mikey how he feels, about him and his blood, and risk scaring him away, or keep quiet, and never let the man know how much he means to him. Whatever he chooses, he knows that someone will get hurt.

[highqueenofelfhame]

All I Ask Of You

Oh, don't say that it's over Oh, no, say it ain't so Let's let the stars watch, let them stare Let the wind eavesdrop, I don't care For all that we've got, don't let it go Just hold me Eavesdrop - The Civil Wars

Two Weeks Later

“Ace?” The sound of the voice, too far away to pinpoint with of them it was, echoed through the warehouse below the apartment she had acquired set her teeth on edge. Her tongue ran over her teeth as she debated locking the apartment door, then decided he would bust it down anyway. It was like this every few days. One member of the Cadre would come back to her apartment. They would take turns coming to ask her how she was doing. Was she okay. Fenrys came most often, sometimes with Connall. Vaughan came occasionally. Gavriel had come a handful of times. At one point, they’d even flown Aedion in from the base he was on in Wendlyn to try to talk to her. 

A knock. 

“Aelin? Galathynius, open up.” Lorcan. That was new. When she said nothing, the knob jiggled and after a beat, the door flew open. He didn’t even bother to pause, just stalked into the apartment like he owned the place and dropped into the chair next to her. 

“By all means,” she said flatly, “make yourself at home.” 

“My dislike for you is mild on a good day. You’re arrogant, self absorbed when it comes to so much shit. Sometimes you are such a bitch that I just.” Lorcan closed his fist and tapped it to his forehead. “But you’re a good soldier. You are my soldier, and I’ll be damned if you don’t take my job from me one day. But you have to stop.” When she didn’t say anything, her staying focused on the map, he leaned forward and rubbing the bridge of his nose, then turned his head to really look at her.

Aelin had never looked worse. She knew that. Turns out that getting shot in the shoulder really fucks you up. Even worse was when she woke up, choking on the tube and throwing her arms around, she’d ignored the pain that had burned through every place on her body in her panic. That had only made the injury to her right shoulder worse all over again. Now, having had a second surgery just eight days ago, there was intense amounts of pain despite the obnoxiously uncomfortable sling she had to wear most of the time that gave her shoulder extra support. At present time, she had such limited use of her right hand because of the damage to the muscles and tendons in her shoulder. Less severe was the shot to her back, because by some grace of Mala, had been a clean bullet wound through the skin, missing anything major. In truth, she had been lucky. 

“You didn’t show up for physcal therapy today,” Lorcan finally said, finger trailing over some of the notes that she had scribbled all over the map. Things were color coded, there were stars drawn on other places, more than one big red X. 

“I didn’t care to know what a shit job my body is doing at healing. You won’t let me help find him despite the shit job you’re all doing.” 

“Aelin. Gods above. We’re trying to find him and you know that. I get that you’re having a hard time and I know what he means to you but what the hell do you think you’re going to accomplish? You can’t use your dominant hand for shit, your bullet wound still bleeds when you use too much energy because you won’t just calm down and rest like you’re supposed to.” Aelin’s eyes fluttered shut, silent tears falling down her face

It wasn’t a new revelation. She hated herself. Hated that she was hurt, hated that Rowan had been taken when it was her that was supposed to have been. It was Hamel’s face on the security tapes, a man she’d managed to take down in a sex trafficking ring. When Hamel had been hit with a bullet to his arm, he’d fallen, and his apparent lover had stormed at Aelin, screaming and drawing a gun in the process. So Aelin had fired, hit the woman in the heart, and put the entire thing out of her mind. Hamel had been arrested, put in prison, and had broken out six months later. For awhile, Aelin was paranoid. Watched her back. But at some point the fear dissipated. Fear that Rowan kept at bay by holding her through the night. 

Aelin knew that all of this was why she was being targeted. Why Rowan had been taken. An eye for an eye. She would be lying if she said she had much hope left. Hope he was coming back to her, hope that he was even alive. 

These days she was just thankful she hadn’t opened a box with his head inside. 

“One of the first nights after you had shown up on base as our newest member, despite his anger Rowan came to my quarters. I’ve known Rowan for a long time, Aelin. And after you left him I had never seen so much pain in a person. He deserved it, absolutely. But the night he came to my quarters, sat with his head in his hands, and made me promise that if there was ever a moment when it was him or you, that we save you. The tone of his voice, the way he sounded. It was raw and rough and I could tell how serious he was. There was a certain level of threat to his voice that told me if I did the opposite he’d  throttle me. So I said okay. During the first week of us being here, he made me promise again. ‘She is all that matters. I don’t care about anything else,’ He’d said. So I made good on that promise. I had to either get you or him out. And I chose you because it’s what he’s asked—begged me to do more than once.” 

She didn’t say anything, just shook her head a single time, pressed her lips together in a thin line, and left the room. A few moments later, she heard the front door open and close, and she collapsed on the floor and cried until there were no more tears in her body. 

~*~

It took longer than she cared to admit to shimmy into her black stealth suit. The pain in her shoulder made her see stars, but she finally managed. She had strapped guns and knives to the left side of her body, only one knife on the right side for desperate measures. She was fully capable of taking down men with just her left arm, but she refused to let herself be completely defenseless if someone came up on her right. She knew it would hurt like hell but she found herself incapable of caring about whatever pain she would be in. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Rowan. 

Aelin was also smart enough to mark where she was going on the map on her table. It was the only location circled in thick black marker, the actual address scribbled to the side. Hamel wanted Aelin, that much she knew. Knew he would want Aelin watch him kill Rowan. And knew he would do it the same place Aelin had killed the woman he had been with. She didn’t even remember her name. Maybe she should have, but it was just another thing she didn’t care about. Couldn’t care about. Either way, she would give him what he wanted, except Rowan wasn’t going to die.

 Aelin was. 

~*~

By the time she’d reached the piss poor excuse for a house, the moon was at its highest position in the sky, the stars bright and vibrant this far out of the city. It was well past midnight and under it would have been beautiful under different circumstances. 

Getting into the house was too easy. They weren’t even trying to defend the space and she was an expert at picking locks. It was silent inside, so silent that she would have heard a pin drop. Aelin had never been more thankful for the boots that went with the suit because they were completely soundproof. It was perfect for missions such as these, when she needed to be as undetected as possible. 

She heard a creak of a floorboard somewhere above her, and decided to start there, silently making her way up the stairs. She flattened her body against the wall, the mask over her face and the hood over her head making her nearly invisible in the darkness. With clenched teeth, she proceeded down the hall, stopping at the first door. Carefully -- so, so carefully -- she turned the knob and opened the door, slipping her thin body into the room. She shut the door behind her with no sound or resistance. Aelin was hardly breathing as she took in a sleeping figure in the bed. Soundlessly, she pulled one of her knives from a sheath on her hip, approached the figure, and slit their throat from ear to ear. His eyes flew open for a single moment and then he was dead. The man didn’t even have time to choke on his own blood. 

When she approached the door again, she pressed her ear to the wood to listen for any sign of movement outside. When she heard nothing, she cracked the door open and slid back out into the hall, making her way to the next room down the line. 

It was the same story: Sleeping man, slit throat, no time to choke. It was impossible to not be more suspicious of how easy it was. Almost too easy, but she supposed they would have to sleep at some point, and someone would have to be guarding Rowan, which couldn’t be an easy task. 

Unless he’s incapacitated. 

The thought made the blood in her veins absolutely boil. 

There was movement in the room with the dim glow, and before searching the room she knew had people, she decided to search the rest of the house. She couldn’t imagine a prisoner being kept in a room that was so easy to escape. It would have been too easy for him to escape. 

She crept back down the stairs, careful to be as light on her feet as she could. The rest of the house was seemingly empty, but in the kitchen there was a door. It was padlocked and likely lead down to a basement. That door seemed the most likely place that Rowan was being kept, so she began to pick the lock, eyes fluttering shut when the click of the lock was too loud for her liking. Frozen, she waited to hear any sort of sign of someone coming downstairs. When she heard nothing, she removed the lock from the latch, pocketed it so no one would be able to easily lock them back in, and slipped into the room. 

She was greeted by a set of stairs that she followed down into the ground. The glow from the light was so dim that it took her a moment for her eyes to adjust. Aelin had been right about it being a basement --  it took a moment for her to get all the way down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she was absolutely breathless. 

Rowan was tied to a chair with rope. His head was hanging down like he was some sort of unconscious, whether he had been knocked out or sleeping, she didn’t know. Aelin didn’t hesitate to run over to him, her hands cupping his face. 

“Come on, baby. Wake up. Please wake up. We have to get you out of here,” she whispered, fingers careful to avoid bruises and cuts that covered his face. It took a moment of her patting the side of his face before his eyes slowly cracked open, and when they did they were filled with tears. 

“What -- Aelin no. No, you can’t be here,” he ground out, but she shook her head, saying nothing as she moved to untie him. 

Aelin had just began to pull a knife from her thigh holster when splitting pain exploded in her head as someone knocked her unconscious. 

~*~

When she woke up, she had the worst headache she had ever had and her shoulder was on fire. Dizzily, she lifted her head and met Rowan’s eyes. Part of her was relieved; the other part angry. They were sitting close enough that their knees were almost touching. Like Rowan, her hands were tied behind her back. That explained the shoulder pain. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed. Tears slipped down her cheeks, from both pain and guilt. 

“What could you possibly be sorry for, love?” He asked softly, his foot nudging against hers the best it could despite the rope tied around his ankles. It was the only way he could touch her, the only way he could reach her. 

“The last conversation we had. I was telling you not to touch me. And I feel so, so guilty. I just. I’m sorry.” 

“Gods above, Ace. I don’t blame you for that. I could never blame you for that,” he said, his voice heavy with his lilting accent that she loved so much. Aelin nodded, but still felt the guilt in her gut. She had been replaying that conversation in her mind for weeks now, wishing she hadn’t said it. In truth, she had never felt so desperate to touch him. 

Behind her back, her fingers fumbled with the rope having seen the knot that had Rowan’s hands had been tied with. Luckily for both of them, they both knew how to untie it. Even luckier, the idiots hadn’t found the knives that were concealed under her sleeves. Aelin had a very small blade  just above her palm, and if she could just --

The door to the basement flew open. Heavy footsteps clomped down the stairs, and Aelin couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Whoever Hamel had working for him were flat out stupid which had led to their original arrest. Even dumber for them to not pat her down thoroughly enough. With a slight flick of her wrist, the little blade shot down into her hand, cutting her skin in a long gash. Forced to grip the blade to try to work it down into her hand, her fingers and palm screaming in pain. It took everything she had to not cringe. Rowan, noticing the slight change in her face, furrowed his brow and Aelin made an imperceptible nod with her head as Arobynn Hamel himself stepped off the bottom step into the basement. 

Aelin’s face was school into neutrality as she arched a single brow at him, waiting for him to speak but the words never came. Instead, he pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants, the idiot, and caressed the trigger the way a lover caresses a cheek. 

“Can I help you?” She asked him, licking her lips slowly. There was a gash there, the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. Arobynn let out a low laugh the same time Aelin began to saw through the rope that bound her, careful to be prepared for the rope to loosen and fall into her hands. 

Another person hopped off the bottom step, a man she didn’t know. In his hands he held two daggers, twirling them between his fingers. She rolled her eyes, doing anything to make it look like she wasn’t scared. Truthfully, she was terrified. Terrified that if she wasn’t quick enough Rowan would receive a bullet to the head and she would be left with the guilt that she had never told him that she forgives him, had never told him she loved him one last time. 

“You know you have the wrong guy, right?” She quirked a brow, looking over at Rowan with distaste, her hand still working to cut through the rope. Her shoulder was begging her to stop, begging for that sling she hated so much. “This piece of shit cheated on me. We haven’t been together for years. So do me a favor and put a bullet through his brain so I can get out of here and never have to see either of you ever again.” The rope finally snapped and she was able to shimmy her hands out before it fell to the ground. 

“Why come for him then?” His eyes narrowed, and Rowan’s face was indecipherable. 

“Because it’s so much easier to ask you to do it than me. I could offer you a pretty penny,” she drawled, watching as Arobynn caressed that trigger again, clearly debating the offer. Aelin cocked her head to the side as, once again -- the idiot -- knelt down next to Aelin. He didn’t look at her or Rowan, just focused on the gun in his hand. 

It was all she needed.

Aelin whipped her hands around, stabbing the knife through Hamel’s neck with her right hand. White hot pain shot through her arm and back, but she didn’t let it slow her down as she wrapped the rope around his neck, ripping out the knife and swiping down Rowan’s leg to unsnap the rope. 

She had moved so fast that the man with the daggers had barely made it to Rowan by the time he was on his feet, swinging his free leg around to knock the man to the ground. Aelin tightened the rope around Hamel’s neck the same time Rowan managed to jump backwards, effectively landing on the crumpled assassin. The chair shattered beneath his body and he rolled backwards until he was able to push onto his feet. 

Aelin slit Arobynn’s throat and kicked him in the chest, his blood spraying across her face. It was then that they heard footsteps up above, the floorboards creaking under the weight of whoever was up there. Rowan turned his back to her and she cut his hands free of it’s bindings, jerking her gun from her thigh holster and preparing to shoot whoever came through the door. 

Except it wasn’t more of Hamel’s associates. It was the Cadre, pouring down into the basement with guns drawn and eyes blazing. 

“You’re late,” she said flatly, moving over to Rowan and searching his face to make sure he was okay as he could be. Lorcan rolled his eyes, Fenrys was trying not to smile.

“You know you could get discharged for this, right?” Lorcan asked, and Aelin shrugged her left shoulder, wincing in pain as the movement of her muscles shot pain across her upper back. 

“I’m okay,” he said softly, run his fingers along her cheek. She turned her face to kiss his palm and leaned her forehead against his chest. 

“Can someone get me a medic?” And then she was falling toward the floor, completely unaware of Rowan catching her before she hit the ground. 

~*~ 

Once again, she woke up to the beeping of machines, but this time there was no tube down her throat. There were two hands wrapped around hers and something pressing against her thigh. When her eyes cracked open, she let out a sigh and tears immediately poured out of her eyes. 

He looked like hell. His face was swollen and bruised and he had stitches above his eyebrow. The hands that encased hers had gashes on them as well, and Aelin wondered how bad it must be hurting for how tightly he gripped her hand. She couldn’t help but wonder how bad the cut on his leg was from when she cut the rope, knowing it had cut into his flesh. It couldn’t have been too bad, as he was able to move with agility when she cut him free, but she was still worried. Still felt horrible.

“Ro,” she croaked out, and his head immediately shot up and then he was standing and smoothing down her hair. Rowan’s eyes searched her and flicked down to her shoulder, looking for any sign of anything that would hint to her not being okay. 

“Hi baby,” he breathed, satisfied with his inspection. His lips pressed to her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips and she let out a quiet sob when he rested his forehead against hers. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. For everything. For all of it.” 

“I know. I know.” He kissed her again, a little harder this time until she let out a slight whimper. Her lip was still split, but she shook her head when he opened his mouth to apologize. “I love you,” she said quietly, bringing her good hand up to run through his hair. “I love you so much.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Gods, baby. I love you. I love you but you deserve so much better than me.” Aelin frowned then, shaking her head quickly. She knew what was coming as she shook her head harder.

“Don’t say it. Rowan Whitethorn, don’t you dare. Don’t.” The tears she  had been crying flowed freely, soaking the gown she wore as they dripped from her chin. Every word, her voice as shattered as her heart.

“I love you, but I can’t let you be with me. I’m not good for you.” He spoke slowly, his voice breaking over his words. All the while his hands smoothed down her hair. Rowan was crying just as hard as she was. 

He brought her hand up to her lips and kissed her knuckles, then leaned forward to kiss her one last time. “I love you.” He kissed her forehead one more time, released her hand, and disappeared out the door. 

Aelin couldn’t help but think that the pain in her heart was infinitely worse than the pain in her shoulder. 

**Tysm to my love and muse @musicmaam bc i couldn’t do anything w/o her tbh

[dustlnds]

part three of rylan’s many idiots, meet your resident manic pixie dream girl natalie cassadaga! + more info, wanted connections. / @redridgeimp​

name: natalie jennifer valentine cassadaga nicknames: nat, nati, tiger (mostly reserved for damien) age: 29 ethnicity: white gender/pronouns: cis female, she/her sexual/romantic orientation: pansexual/panromantic been in red ridge for: seven years occupation: tattoo artist (at home), waitress (blue hill diner) affiliation: valencia, despite her unwillingness to admit it. as they helped her get a life in red ridge after fleeing las vegas through the person of damien kingsley, they’ve been holding this unspoken contract over her head for quite a while, demanding her help in the form of tattoos (she’s responsible for most of the v’s tattooed on the bodies of valencia members), nursing care (often dropping people who need to be stitched up / nursed at her place, since it’s so off the map), or carrying merch/goods across town. (might be, also, that the day after damien told her hey, you’re clean now, she felt the shadow self in her latch onto her vices, her filth, and when she asked someone in valencia for a dose she knew they’d hold it over her head, but she did it anyway. now a small brown bag containing her shame is hidden in a box beneath her bed: and that, like the way valencia shows up at her step every other week, is a reminder that perhaps she can’t ever be free). positive traits:  spontaneous, empathic, selfless, good spirited, kind, protective, creative, resourceful, spiritual. negative traits:  impulsive, naive, resentful, cowardly, self-destructive, insecure, frightened, weak.

BIOGRAPHY —

(WARNINGS for substance abuse, drug abuse, overdosing).

las vegas, nv, 2001. at ten she’s a spark begging to be ignited. a kid with a bright imagination, but her parents aren’t happy. school is hard for the girl who’ll spend hours covering textbooks in flowers — why should two plus two matter, she thinks, when i can make the paper bloom into whole gardens, full of creatures staring back at me, when i can create my own world? her parents have never been the kind to waste their days daydreaming. they look at their youngest daughter and think: where does she take it? all this carefree passion of hers, where does it come from? she lacks her father’s disposition for numbers, how clinically pristine they look when lined up one after the other, and how satisfying they feel when preceded by a plus sign on a bank invoice. she has none of her mother’s backbone, the way she carries herself as if pure, molten gold flew into her veins — staring everyone down, making herself taller. she seems to only have eyes for fleeting things, mundane passions: for her colors, for the music of a guitar, for the way the desert sand blows into her hair at sundown. come a couple years, all she has eyes of is the boy playing his guitar among the wrecks of a car parts graveyard — says his name is elvis and she knows that isn’t true, but in las vegas, somehow, you can make yourself be whoever you want to be. she smiles, and says her name is tiger instead: in another life, perhaps, she was fierce and with a bite.

las vegas, nv, 2008. at seventeen she’s golden spotlights on the vegas strip. atomic bomb waiting to explode, all summer glare and midnight rides into nowhere: it’s her and elvis in his daddy’s car and it feels like they could conquer the world, if they wanted. he sings to her, she dances for him, characters straight out of a ‘50s song, loaded with a naivety that tastes like the american dream. no time for overbearing parents, no attention paid in school: it’s just them, skin on skin, flowers blooming from her fingers in spray paint over abandoned buildings. this could last forever, she thinks, she begs, she prays: a life like this could last forever. (a life like this drains the best of her). elvis was born to be a king like his namesake, and he’s got dreams of fame and glory that don’t contemplate her presence. street artists never become rockstars, and she has time for nothing more than the creatures lunging out of her fingers, onto the paper. she’s skin and bones, ink and notes, like she could live off of music and drawings alone — and him, always him, a golden god, a forbidden hymn. the night he signs his first record deal she grabs her inks and her needles — tattoes a present on his skin, a crown for the king to be. and as she draws, she prays: that their dreams can be true, that this is not a happy chorus in a ballad, but a rock opera, a discography for the ages to come. she prays for him like a beggar at an altar: and maybe there’s magic in that crown she tattoos, there’s truth in the prayer she pours into it. he wins his dreams and leaves her behind: prayers always require sacrifices.

somewhere in nevada, 2013. at twenty-two she’s broken lightbulbs under strangers’ feet. she’s shards of glass she could cut people with, but it’s herself she harms; see, elvis’ gone but there’s tons of friends in his place. there’s mary jane, addy, crystal, lucy and all her diamonds. vegas is a wonderland, a new high hidden ‘round every corner, and kind people willing to hand ‘em out like candy to an hazy, improvised alice — the drawings grow darker now, shadows with caved-in eyes and hollow chests. the colors don’t come the way they used to, and when they do they all look like a shade of nightmares — blood red, nausea green, despair blue. she looks for answers in his songs: on the radio, in her mind, she swears he still sings about her. has to follow him to the middle of the desert, to a festival where he stands on a stage and people swear he looks just like the real thing, the king himself. she doesn’t see him, though, but a hole where all her strength used to be, the us against the world turned into the open jaws of a ravenous monster: us against the world, and then the world collapses. wonderland turns to the land of nightmares, and the needle, it is her salvation — down the rabbit hole, she thinks, and someone must come out on the other side. either her, or the ghost of her. either her, or her evil turned to flesh. there is no rabbit hole but a town called red ridge. there is no white rabbit but a man — a good man, a honest man, with an inclination to fixing broken things. he helps her up to her fit, treats her alike his daughter and his sister, and when he begins asking her to help fix the remains of a broken car, she begins to wonder whether he isn’t trying to fix her, too. sometimes he calls her tiger and she remembers when she fancied herself a wild and untamed thing, escaping cages, just following her instincts. under the heat of the south-west sun, she smiles. maybe all tigers were lost creatures at first.

red ridge, nv, 2020. at twenty-nine she’s neon gas begging to be lit up. there’s a tiger on her forearm, hides the scars of a previous life. there’s always ink under her fingernails, sometimes it seems it shines in the dark. red ridge has become her home; damien, lyla, rowan: her familt. the car she’d begun to fix with the man who helped her now has been colored bright pink and bears the name of flamingo, and she rides it out in the desert letting it add to the spirit in her heart — wild, untamed, free. her family becomes red ridge, becomes the darkenss of it too. she’s made herself a home in the sand: an old garage, turned inside out, now overflowing with flowers and colors, sparkling gems and drawings hanging at every corner — and a canary, otis, that sings her to sleep every night. she’s called it dustland, a sort of mythical place at the edge of red ridge, into the nothing, willing to welcome all the broken, all the wounded and the lost. but she loses herself too, now and then. at times she looks past the profiles of houses and buildings, and knows there’s a den of coyotes hiding among the ranks of valencia, which hold the key to that rabbit hole she once lost herself in. at night, when the desert gets cold and her bones don’t feel anything like a tiger’s — she swears she can hear the coyotes howl, beckoning. one night she caves in, asks them for a dose: she keeps it under her bed, lets it become her shame, and to avoid that secret getting out she helps the coyotes out anytime they ask. sometimes she feels she’s falling apart again. when she does, she turns to the ink to remind herself of how life was drained out of all shades, because of the needles in her arm. sometimes it’s enough to keep her breathing to the night. sometimes.

[longsightmyth]

Myth reads The Naming, Chapter 20

Welp I’m just gonna post the one I have and deal with the (possible) schedule in the morning. That’s just who I am as a person I guess.

PELLINOR

Just because they can see Norloch doesn’t mean they’re there yet though. In fact, it takes four days (one night of which is spent in an inn, where a fellow bard stitches up the wounds on Cadvan’s face) before they reach the city itself. The vale of Norloch is pretty, prosperous, and heavily gardened. Our heroes ride through the gates of the city proper just before they close and just before the storm hits.

To be completely honest, if you picture Minas Tirith as portrayed in the LotR movies, you’ve got a good idea of Norloch. There are nine levels, each with their own winding ways and gates of entry. Thankfully only the outer gate closes at sundown, so they can ride up to the fourth circle without being challenged as it starts to drizzle. The guard recognizes Cadvan and lets them through. They get through the gate to the first circle just as the rain really hits. Cadvan leads the way to Nelac’s house, who lets them in promptly.

Maerad saw that Cadvan suddenly looked exhausted and gray, as if he’d been holding himself together by sheer will and now, having reached his goal, was on the verge of collapse.

I know that feel, Cadvan.

Cadvan makes the barest of introductions (basically he tosses out that they’re Maerad and Cai of Pellinor, and Nelac is just like ‘why not at this point’) as Nelac helps Cadvan into a living room, where Saliman has apparently beaten them to Nelac’s house. I guess Rachida really held them up?

Nelac heals Cadvan, who until this point was getting worse and worse, and sends Maerad and Hem off for baths so he can rest after healing Cadvan, and Cadvan can rest after being healed.

Hem is rude to Saliman for approximately ten seconds, at which point he’s too interested in the south to think about being rude. They drop Maerad off and Saliman escorts Hem away.

Maerad bathes and unpacks, and meets Saliman and Hem to go back downstairs. Hem hasn’t bathed, but he has gotten dressed even if he left off the shoes.

Cadvan has already gone to bed when they get downstairs, so Maerad and Hem eat, though Hem does it while utterly enthralled by Saliman and Saliman’s stories of the south.

Maerad asks about Cadvan, and Nelac says he’s healed but needs some sleep, and that he was essentially wounded where his magic was kept. He asks how they all survived an attack by a wight, and Maerad says she blasted the wight. She takes their shock as disbelief and gets defensive.

“Nobody saw it,” she said. “Cadvan was unconscious. I thought Hem was dead. Nobody saw me do it. But I did. You can believe me or not.” She looked up defiantly and caught Nelac’s steady gaze. She held his eye, refusing to be intimidated. At last he stirred, looking away and passing his hand over his brow. To Maerad’s surprise, he looked immensely sad.

He tells her he believes her. End of chapter.

THRONE OF GLASS

For a minute there I thought I’d left a chapter out of my organizer and came to the conclusion that having to do three of them was a fitting punishment. Thankfully, I was just tired and realized my math was right the first time. Have chapters 44 & 45.

Celaena freaks out that the king meets her eyes, as well she should since in Crown of Midnight we are told that the turquoise eyes with molten golden cores are ancestral traits told of in song and story.

Wait no she just thinks me might somehow be able to read her thoughts about the wyrdmarks and Cain pulling some bullshit. Sure, why not.

Later Chaol ruminates on Celaena.

She was incredible now, so fast he had difficulty keeping up with her. She could scale a wall with ease, and had even demonstrated by climbing up to her own balcony with nothing but her bare hands. It unnerved him, especially when he remembered she was only eighteen. He wondered if this was how she’d been before Endovier. She never hesitated when they sparred, but she seemed to sink far within herself, into a place that was calm and cool, but also angry and burning. She could kill anyone, Cain included, in a matter of seconds.

I’ve seen no evidence of this and the word of an incompetent guard captain isn’t going to convince me of it.

After all of this reflection on her badassery, Chaol decides she needs to be protected because she won’t survive another year in Endovier.

Next chapter.

Nox and Celaena spar, or so I assume since the chapter begins with Celaena panting and both of them lowering their swords. Nox teases her about dancing with Dorian at the ball, Celaena warns him to be Super Extra Careful in the coming days. Nox prods her until she drops hints about her Actual Identity, which he then puts together to know who she is. He evidences surprise that she’s a girl.

Seriously is Celaena a gender-neutral name in Adarlan? Otherwise they have pretty strict gender roles going on though. Who knows. Moving on. She tells Nox to run, and the next day he has.

If it was that fucking easy for everyone to get out of the castle, why haven’t they all bolted? I ask you. (Also I note that Celaena doesn’t tell Nox about the secret passageways, making her even more of a half-assed helper)

Oh also Nox calls her Queen of the Underworld. Just cuz.

We swap to Kaltain’s PoV. She notices something funky about Cain, like shadows leaking all around him and stuff.

Shadows seemed to leak from him, flowing onto the stones and the windows and the walls like spilled ink.

But she forgets about it when she gets to Perrington’s table in the hall. Because Reasons.

Celaena’s PoV. She and Dorian are playing chess. She and Dorian eventually make out. Next section.

I assume Dorian left, because Celaena is sitting shivering in bed hoping the monster doesn’t get her the night before the final Test (which comes before the duel).

Celaena falls asleep and dreams of being chased by a horse. This is why I say the early books had more planning, because those of us who have read Heir of Fire will recognize the scene.

She wakes up, pets Fleetfoot (who remains incredibly well-mannered) and goes back to sleep. The next morning she wakes up to learn that Nox is gone (...but he already was?) and the final Test is cancelled. The duel is set for the next day.

End chapter.

COMPARISON

Celaena, if you want your friend safely out of the castle, maybe tell him about that one secret passage that leads directly out of the castle. Fuck’s sake. Do y’all see what I mean about this? (it becomes particularly egregious in Queen of Shadows, remind me to talk about this more when we get there. We’ll also talk more about Hem and Aedion)

Cadvan was not as hale and healthy as we thought, but at least Nelac is here to save the day. Also featuring: Hem’s TREMENDOUS crush on Saliman. No, Ms. Croggon, I know Saliman ends up with a lady. That doesn’t mean Hem doesn’t have a crush the size of a medium planet on him.

Also also featuring one of the main differences in the writing in general and the writing of main characters in specific, namely: Maerad kills things and feels bad about it. Celaena doesn’t kill things but glories in the idea of it and brags about murder until confronted with someone who might present a challenge.

All I’m saying is, the difference is stark.

Likewise, the love interests have totally different interactions with characters and story. Even if Chaol isn’t endgame (and Dorian becomes not endgame) it’s still interesting to see Cadvan vs Chaol & Dorian. Cadvan supports and encourages and sometimes snaps, but he rarely if ever belittles Maerad or her abilities. Chaol (and Dorian) all too often pay lip service to how awesome Celaena is while at the same time deciding she needs to be protected and undermining her at every turn (Chaol and Dorian do this to a lesser degree than Rowan, mind). It’s not even necessarily the characters undermining the protagonist precisely. It is the story undermining her in favor of these three dudes (mostly Rowan and Dorian, admittedly) and then undermining every single other woman in favor of Celaena. It is the oldest of strategies, the kind that elevates the singular woman above other women, showing by implication that it is because she is exceptional that she can run with the boys. Those other women aren’t quite good enough, but she’ll hang out with them if they prop her up enough. So long as Celaena remains more awesome than all other women (never the man she’s involved with, mind. He must be more awesome than all others), it’s all good.

It has not escaped my notice that all of the ‘good’ women are white or white-coded, either. Different cultures? What are they? Only for the evil or uncivilized, obviously.

That’s totally feminism, right?

STATS

Throne of Glass:

Pages: 14

Fragments: 17

Em-Dashes: 29

Ellipses: 7

Pellinor:

Pages: 18

Fragments: 3

Em-Dashes: 2

Ellipses: 4

[garden-ghoul]

two blogs part 2

“the upstairs neighbors are being really loud and my tarot deck told me to relax can you believe this bullshit”

THE URUK-HAI

Ah, Uruk-hai. What could possibly be worse? I am here to tell you that what could be worse than being kidnapped by uruk-hai is if someone is fucking mowing a lawn outside and people will not stop walking around and moving furniture upstairs. Dump my body in a ditch and write ‘CAUSE OF DEATH: AUDITORY PROCESSING DISORDER’ on a scrap of paper tucked under my tongue. Anyway Pippin is not having a much better time than me. He wakes up from a nightmare lying tied up on the ground, looking at his scared (and also tied up) best friend. And FINALLY some Pippin interiority! He is dismayed that he has been worse than useless on this journey and also, obviously, that he is now at the mercy of a bunch of orcs. I like that his primary characteristic in Fellowship was that he kept trying to look tough when he thought he wasn’t... but as we’ll see he really is tough and resourceful!

The orcs notice Pippin is awake and start being mean to him immediately. One of them says “Curse the Isengarders!” out loud, which seems like a pretty bad idea unless you assume this orc is looking for a fight. I guess the fact that orcs have no common language between tribes is just a plot point that allows Pippin to understand what they’re saying? Basically they are just arguing about whose orders supersede who else’s orders. Some of them are even Moria orcs, and just want to do a revenge murder; why the hell did the professional warriors let them join?? Like it’s clear that the Mordor party and the Isengard party have sort of good reasons to cooperate, but I’m honestly surprised they didn’t just chase off the Moria orcs as soon as they showed up. Like who even are these guys? They don’t work for either of our masters. Deadweight. At any rate, Ugluk of Isengard doesn’t seem to want to let them leave now?? Just to show how In Command he is.

The orcs fight and a bunch of them get killed. Pippin takes the opportunity to cut his bonds on a dead man’s knife and retie them looser. Just in case. Then the party sets off again, and somehow Pippin actually manages to fall asleep while being carried by an orc. These hobbits, I swear. Anyway he wakes up later and is given some kind of... alcohol? Opiate? Some kind of painkiller. Merry gets ointment for the cut on his head, but because of Tolkien’s weird Thing this is portrayed as creepy and awful. Ugluk also tells Merry ‘You'll get bed and breakfast all right: more than you can stomach.' What. Ugluk you’re really bad at threats, that doesn’t even make sense. Well, they let Merry and Pippin run on their own legs, anyway. Everyone was tired of carrying them. The Moria orcs say they can’t run in the sunlight; Ugluk threatens them into silence. Aww.

Later they decide to run home through Fangorn--over a hundred of them. Oh holy shit how many orcs are there here?? I was picturing more like 40... but it sounds like after the northerners leave there’s around a hundred left. Apparently the Mordor orcs come back too, and there’s some delightful boasting:

‘What else did you come back for?’ said Uglúk. ‘You went in a hurry. Did you leave anything behind?'

'I left a fool,' snarled Grishnákh. 'But there were some stout fellows with him that are too good to lose. I knew you'd lead them into a mess. I've come to help them.'

'Splendid!' laughed Uglúk. 'But unless you've got some guts for fighting, you've taken the wrong way. Lugbúrz was your road. The Whiteskins are coming. What's happened to your precious Nazgûl? Has he had another mount shot under him?’

Sorry I kind of like Ugluk. He’s... fun.

The riders start to catch up, and the orc party camps out in the dark, waiting for them to attack. This seems pretty dumb--even if Rohirrim have better night vision than most humans and their horses “can see the night breeze” (ah yes... horses.... famously nocturnal animals...) it still makes more sense to attack at night. Well, while that standoff is going on, Grishnakh of Lugburz shows up and starts trying to get into Pippin and Merry’s pockets. Pippin decides to trick Grishnakh into thinking he has the Ring... for some reason?

'My dear tender little fools,' hissed Grishnákh, 'everything you have, and everything you know, will be got out of you in due time. You'll wish there was more that you could tell to satisfy the Questioner, indeed you will: quite soon. We shan't hurry the enquiry. Oh dear no! What do you think you've been kept alive for? My dear little fellows, please believe me when I say that it was not out of kindness: that's not even one of Uglúk's faults.'

Oh I looooove the way he talks. Merry succeeds in making him angry and frantic--he’s running out of time! And he runs toward the forest with both of them. But unfortunately, riders. He gets very murdered. The battle moves away, Merry and Pippin are left alone in the dark, and so obviously the very first thing they do is have some lembas. Hobbits!! After having their tea (at midnight. whatever.) they crawl off toward the Entwash. Merry, who unlike Pippin has actually looked at a map in his life, says they ought to go through Fangorn despite the warnings. So they go to the eaves of the wood and look back out at the battle taking place at sunrise.

Out of the shadows the hobbits peeped, gazing back down the slope: little furtive figures that in the dim light looked like elf-children in the deeps of time peering out of the Wild Wood in wonder at their first Dawn.

GOOD IMAGERY, very sweet. Our hobbits almost stay, but it looks like Ugluk and a few others are about to get away into the forest, so they end up running. You were soooo close guys. Now instead of meeting their companions straight off, they’re going to end up with

TREEBEARD

They follow the Entwash for a while until they find a stony outcropping they can climb up. They go on quite a bit about how old and treeish the forest is (no duh) but when the sun comes out Pippin “almost feels he likes the place.”

'Almost felt you liked the Forest! That's good! That's uncommonly kind of you,' said a strange voice. 'Turn round and let me have a look at your faces. I almost feel that I dislike you both, but do not let us be hasty.’

Here he is! The reason I say HOOM every time I am thinking for the last ten years. Tolkien actually describes him as fairly humanoid, although he is fourteen feet tall and also has fourteen toes. He says he’s an ent, but doesn’t know what Merry and Pippin are. He sings the whole “all the creatures there are” song, which is very endearing, and doesn’t find them in the list. I love Treebeard’s preoccupation with true names; he doesn’t want to tell his (and at any rate, it would take a very long time to say!) and he’s absolutely honored by Pippin and Merry’s confidence when they tell him who they are. He also does some cute monologuing, and mentions Gandalf, “the only wizard who really cares about trees.” Surely Radagast must care a little, if only for birds to nest in!

Treebeard knows a lot of tongue-twisters. He knows one about Laurelindorenan (which is almost a tongue-twister itself); he would have advised people to stay away from queer Lothlorien just as Celeborn advised our heroes to stay away from Fangorn! So insular... He talks a lot about the old days, and sings some too. I love him very much. I find it hard to summarize anything to do with Treebeard if I read too far ahead; at any rate we come to a place that may be called Wellinghall, and the hobbits tell him of their adventures. Treebeard is troubled by Saruman and wonders what to do about him. He gets himself worked into a right frenzy over Saruman’s awful doings--and then says, now, I mustn’t be hasty. He’ll call a council tomorrow, but for now he explains the curiously sexist reasons all the entwives are gone.

Entwives like order, and they like to direct things to grow just so, whereas ents are more nomadic and live as herdsmen and wanderers. What the fuck Tolkien. Can you just... not... I’m not sure he has properly talked with a woman in his life. Anyway, the gardens of the entwives have been destroyed by Sauron, and nobody saw where the entwives themselves went. IMO the safest bet would be east of Sauron’s domain; he probably doesn’t have a huge amount of interest in spreading out there, far from the organized resistance in the west.

So. Entmoot. Takes place in the Derndingle. A dingle, by the way, is a landform also known as a dell, sort of like a very small valley. Not to be confused with a dale, which is both derived from the same Old English word and apparently has an almost identical definition. Thanks, Wikipedia. I’ll be sure not to get those confused. Anyway after a few hours Treebeard comes and finds the hobbits to tell them it will take a couple of days to explain everything to the other ents; he’s brought as a companion for them an ent named Quickbeam, who is so hasty that he has already decided what he wants to do about Saruman. Yowza. He’s a fun guy, laughs a lot, likes to sing. They stay at his ‘house,’ and he talks about the beautiful rowan grove he used to live in, and how the orcs destroyed it. “That seemed to the hobbits quite enough to explain his 'hastiness', at least in the matter of Orcs.” At last, after three days, the ents have come to a decision. Their war song is so delightful--its unstoppable rhythm!--that I have to put the whole thing here for you. 

To Isengard! Though Isengard be ringed and barred with doors of stone; Though Isengard be strong and hard, as cold as stone and bare as bone, We go, we go, we go to war, to hew the stone and break the door; For bole and bough are burning now, the furnace roars - we go to war! To land of gloom with tramp of doom, with roll of drum, we come, we come; To Isengard with doom we come!

Burarum! “We are made of the bones of the earth. We can split stone like the roots of trees, only quicker, far quicker, if our minds are roused!” Treebeard says this might be the last march of the ents--Saruman is powerful, after all. But better to face doom this way and destroy Saruman than to wait as he grows ever stronger for doom to find them! The ents are going to war!