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does anyone know of the fic where either violet/reader are dating xaden but her bonded dragon is mates with either bodhis or garricks
#xaden riorson#fourth wing#iron flame#violet sorrengail#violet and xaden#xaden and violet#xaden x violet#xaden x reader
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A Case for Bodhi Durran
Criminally underused and oft-sidelined, Bodhi Durran deserves…more. More attention. More consideration. More love. While plenty of fanon exists surrounding his character - including presuppositions of what his life was like before the apostasy, what his dreams for the future were before the Rider’s Quadrant - for this commentary I will try to focus primarily on the text and evidentiary proof of his virtues. So, let's talk about how Bodhi Durran...
Is Loyal
“When you have a hundred and seven scars on your back, then you get to make the fucking decisions, Ciaran,” Bodhi snarls
I feel like all the Marked Ones who populate Xaden's inner circle have loyalty written indelibly on their hearts - loyalty to not only Tyrrendor, but specifically to Xaden. They understand the sacrifice he made then and the sacrifices he continues to make for them. Even when being loyal to Xaden means hauling dead bodies out of his not-girlfriend’s room at two in the morning. Or making clandestine smuggling runs . Or continuing to manage the operation in Xaden’s absence when the Navarrian leadership has begun to catch wise. Or when you take pains to ensure he’s left to his grief on the anniversary of his father’s death. Even when they sometimes butt heads over specifics, Bodhi ultimately defers to Xaden, because he…
Is Dutiful
[Xaden] dips his chin toward our wing, and two riders—Garrick and Bodhi—break formation, then climb the steps to stand behind Xaden, their hands at their sides. “As it was a matter of life and death, I personally executed six of the would-be murderers, as witnessed by Flame Section Leader Garrick Tavis and Tail Section Executive Officer Bodhi Durran.
Again, all the Marked Ones display this quality in spades. Even if they don’t always agree with the methods Xaden uses, they will forever carry out their duty, his orders. Liam represents the ultimate expression of this quality, but the way Bodhi protects Violet in Xaden’s absence, even going so far as to risk his own reputation and command by constantly moving flight maneuvers to protect her is an undeniable expression of his sense of duty.
“You saved every single one of us here, cousin,” Bodhi says. “And we’re thankful. Now, I’d like to do what we’ve trained for, and if it means I don’t go home, then I guess my soul will be commended to Malek. I wouldn’t mind seeing my mother anyway.”
This speaks for itself. Both in the language of duty and loyalty, which only serves to accentuate the fact Bodhi…
Is Supportive
“You’re our best fighter,” a second-year near Xaden counters with a quick grin.
Though he and Garrick (and Violet) share in this responsibility to some extent, I still think in a lot of ways Bodhi is Xaden’s ultimate hype man. Mostly because he understands Xaden so deeply and as such is well aware how much Xaden needs it sometimes. He’s present for Xaden in difficulty. Willing to advocate for him, stand up for him even against the other Marked Ones as he does after Resson.
Bodhi grins, flashing a smile that looks exactly like my aunt’s used to. “Good to see you up and about, Sorrengail.” Then he smacks me on the shoulder as he walks off, looking back over his shoulder. “I’ll fetch the backup plan. Good luck.”
But it’s not just Xaden he supports…
When the Assembly wants nothing more than to toss Violet in a cell, he lends his voice to the arguments for her loyalty, her integrity:
She fought at our side at Resson.” Bodhi tenses as his voice rises as well.
AND
In another, quieter moment, which speaks not only to his naturally supportive nature but also how well he can read others needs:
“It’s a lost magic,” Bodhi says softly, appearing at my side. He rubs his thumb over his newly mended, scarless palm. “Maybe there’s a reason this stone never worked. It might be broken.”
He can tell how thoroughly the failed attempt at raising the wards shatters Violet’s self-confidence and even though he doesn’t know her as well as Xaden, he understands she needs reassurance, offering it freely. He also supports Violet in her burnout and when she’s crazed after hearing Xaden was injured.
Bodhi Durran is a man who desperately wants everyone to be okay. Actively. Daily. Trying to not only keep everyone alive, but sane and grounded, because Bodhi…
Is Brilliant
The distraction Bodhi engineered in the flight field bought us time to meet without teachers noticing, but not much, especially considering that Devera, Kaori, Carr, and Emetterio are among those on campus still.
Personally, I would love to know what he threw together with zero notice that managed to keep the instructors busy long enough for Dain to call the quadrant to formation and Xaden (coughVioletcough) to issue his invitation. My guess, there were explosives of some sort involved.
Also, when they are climbing the Cliffs of Dralor with the fliers and the wyvern attack, he puts together what it means that the wyvern felt the pulse of the Aretian hatching grounds being reactivated before pretty much anyone else. He understands the wyvern will have relayed to their masters that the fliers and Aretian riders joined forces and the implications of such a report.
“I… uh… think we’re going to have to make some modifications on that harness,” Bodhi remarks as Andarna struggles to maintain her balance. “That’s going to take a few hours.”
Without drifting into the land of fanon, it’s hard to elaborate on this point except to highlight that Bodhi has the skills and know-how to modify an elaborately designed one-of-a-kind dragon harness. Were I to drift into fanon, I would shout from the rooftops that he’s the engineer of the group - the one that made sure Violet’s daggers would work for her, who consulted with Xaden on the prototype and modifications to Violet’s saddle, who also helped design and proof Andarna’s harness. Where Xaden may be the ideas-man in these areas, Bodhi executes. He’s the one who fixes their pocket watches when they won’t keep time or helps troubleshoot why the damn trigger on that crossbow sticks when any of the Marked Ones can’t figure it out for themselves. Ultimately, Bodhi wants to help in a tangible way because he...
Is Protective
In this, I feel it’s best to just let Bodhi speak for himself.
When Varrish confronts Violet on the flight field before her first trip to Samara.
“You may leave, Cadet Durran,” Varrish says. Bodhi moves closer to my side, and the male lieutenant takes a step closer as well, the mage lights catching the signet patch—fire wielding—on his uniform. “As Cadet Sorrengail’s section leader, I am the next in her chain of command. And as Article Four, Section Two of the Codex states, her discipline falls to her chain of command before being brought to cadre. I would be negligent in my duty were I to leave her in potential possession of… whatever it is you’re looking for.”
When Varrish pushes Violet to near burnout.
Bodhi’s warm brown face appears in front of mine. “Fuck.” He tugs the edges of the blanket closed around me. “This is because of Andarna?” “Yes.” Bodhi’s eyes widen. … “I’ll handle it,” Bodhi promises, capturing my gaze. “This won’t happen to you again.”
When Dain Aetos calls Violet to the mat because he’s pissed off that she won’t talk to him.
“You shouldn’t do this!” Bodhi shouts as he runs at us, skidding to a stop next to me. Imogen isn’t far behind. Ah, she’d run to find the closest person to Xaden possible. Makes sense. “She’s in a fucking sling, Aetos.” “Last time I checked, you’re a section leader.” Dain narrows his eyes on Bodhi. “And your cousin isn’t her wingleader anymore. I am.” The muscles in Bodhi’s neck bulge. “Xaden’s going to fucking kill him,” he whispers.
There are plenty of other instances where he protects others. Notably, when he steps in front of Carr to counter his signet as they are leaving Basgiath. And I’m certain there are hundreds of instances we don’t see since we are in Violet’s POV through the series. None of which detracts from the fact that Bodhi…
Is Principled
At the beginning of Fourth Wing, upon returning from a standard weapons run, he pushes Xaden and Garrick both, insisting:
“There has to be something more we can do,” Bodhi argues, looking to Xaden, his voice low…
And then again at the end of the book, when the cadets are faced with a decision to fight alongside the fliers to save the Pormoish civilians or flee for Eltuval, he’s the first to insist they help. Even coming into conflict with Xaden’s more measured approach to the impossible dilemma Col. Aetos has enforced upon them.
“How many people live in Resson?” Bodhi asks. “More than three hundred,” Imogen answers as another boom cracks through the valley. “That’s the post they do the yearly trades at.” “Then let’s get down there.” Bodhi turns and Xaden steps back, blocking his path with an outstretched hand. “You’re kidding me, right?” “We have no idea what we’re walking into.” Xaden’s tone reminds me of that first day after Parapet. He’s in full command mode. “So we should just stand here while civilians die?” Bodhi questions, and I tense. We all do, watching Xaden.
As much as I love Xaden, and I do. I believe equipping the drifts with weapons is a means to an end for him. They are the thin, brown and feathered line between the venin and Tyrrendor. He wants to continue helping them, but I don’t believe - other than from an abstract “we don’t condemn innocents to death” perspective - he’s overly concerned with the preservation of individual Poromish lives. Bodhi, for better or worse, appears to be invested in the preservation of life in general. A grounded, guiding principle that thankfully he values because Bodhi…
Is Powerful
He sighs. “Yeah. Second time someone tried to jump me in the bathing chamber this week.” My eyes widen as my heart hammers in my chest. “Are you okay?” He has the gall to grin. “I completely eviscerated some asshole out of Second Wing while naked and only got a bruise. I’m fine.”
I mean, besides the litany of weapons certification patches Violet observes early in Fourth Wing, Bodhi is just as skilled in unarmed hand-to-hand. While he’s never described as “on-par” with Xaden (since Xaden spars with Garrick almost exclusively unless he’s trying to make a point), Bodhi clearly knows how to handle himself. In the buff. With no weapons. And accruing no serious injuries.
Which doesn’t even touch his signet…
“What have you done?” Carr shouts, running for us, his wispy hair flying in all directions as he lifts his hands. “You’ll end us all, over who? People you’ve never met? I won’t allow it!” “Bodhi!” Xaden orders as Carr reaches Third Wing. Fire erupts from Carr’s hands, streaming toward the dais, and my stomach drops. Time seems to slow as Bodhi steps forward and twists his hand like he’s turning a dial. The fire dies, extinguishing like it was never there and leaving Carr staring at his hands. “You taught us well, Professor,” Bodhi says, holding his hand in place. “Maybe a little too well.” Damn. “He can counter signets,” Xaden tells me. Well, that’s fucking terrifying.
And though people have questioned Brennan's assessment:
“By our best calculations,” Brennan says, rubbing his hands together to keep warm, “the six most powerful riders currently in Aretia are Xaden, Felix, Suri, Bodhi, Violet, and me.”
When you consider the potential of his signet…
Yes, he extinguishes Carr’s flames without blinking. But he can also smother Xaden’s shadows. Dispel Violet’s lightning. Destroy Mira’s wards. Keep Brennan from mending. He could have calmed Lilith’s storms. And while it seems like largely a defensive signet, there are offensive elements to it as well. Such as - and I’m not saying this would happen - he could remain completely invisible to Melgren, even without the benefit of three other Marked Ones. If such a thing were in the cards, he would be able to easily assassinate Melgren, undetected.
And that’s if we don’t consider what, if any, mind signets he can counter. Can he reverse Imogen’s memory wipe? Or merely prevent her from performing one? Can he fool a truthsayer by offering them nothing to read? Based on the text, it appears Xaden is unable to read his intentions. Which would imply he’s impervious to not only inntinsics, but memory readers and erasers, truthsayers, etc.
Considering we don’t know precisely how his signet works, it’s difficult to say for certain where the boundaries lie. Is it only as Xaden says, “He can counter signets?” Or is he interrupting the channel between dragon and rider entirely? Which would have far more wide-reaching implications since he could theoretically also break the channel between gryphons and their fliers as well as venin and the earth.
Just like we really don’t have all the information about Violet’s “pure power” signet, we don’t have nearly enough hard information about Bodhi’s to say for certain where the potential expression of it may end.
Despite his physical and magical prowess, though, Bodhi…
Is Pragmatic
“I liked it better when we just delivered the weapons,” Bodhi mutters.
As principled, honorable, loyal, and dutiful as he is…same. He wants to help, but it’s hard. And dangerous. And running weapons is easier. I don’t blame him at all.
His pragmatism is reflected in the text a hundred different ways, but it’s also simply stated by both him and Violet.
“And I thought you were the most reasonable of the group.” I sigh. “Look, if I can help, then maybe we can prevent what I’m assuming are… supply runs.” Talking in code is ridiculous, but anyone could be listening. “Give me a job.” “Oh, I am the most reasonable in the group.” He flashes a grin, leaning back on his heels. “I also don’t have a death wish. Survive second year and strengthen your shields, Sorrengail. That’s your job.”
He is a man who gets things done. Which is not to say he’s not in touch with his emotions. But he understands the balance between necessity and diplomacy. Not that he’s a staid, stoic mission only guy either, because Bodhi…
Is Quick-Witted
“Hey, I hate to interrupt what’s obviously a moment,” Bodhi whispers loudly from my left. “But that was the last bell, so that’s our cue to get this nightmare started.”
AND
Bodhi wrinkles his nose. “What?” “You smell like dragon ass.” “Fuck off.” I chance a whiff and can’t argue. “I’m using your room.” “I would consider it a personal favor.” I extend my middle finger and head toward his room.
Much as I appreciate and adore Bodhi’s quick wit, I could also write volumes about how his dry, sarcastic sense of humor operates as a defense mechanism. A lens through which he can deal with the intensity of his circumstances and the impact of these weighty decisions they are all making.
Like Xaden himself says, Bodhi always lightens the mood. To help himself deal? Yes. But (like Ridoc) also because he can tell everyone desperately needs it, a virtue that serves him well because he…
Is A Leader
”Shouldn’t you all be in Battle Brief?” Bodhi asks, his voice booming as he comes up behind us. One look sends the other squads scurrying for the door.
Though a lot of space on the page has been given to Xaden, Rhiannon, and Violet’s obvious leadership qualities, Bodhi sprang from the same genetic line as Xaden. While the expression of the Riorson magnetism may be tempered by his natural demeanor, he possesses the same it-factor as Fen. Were I to lay bets, I expect his mother was similarly charismatic and it was expressed in her much the way it is in Bodhi.
“…Flame Section has the unique honor of being completely intact.” Brennan looks down at Bodhi. “Durran, you brought every single cadet. I guess that would make you the Iron Section.”
He inspired such loyalty from his section, they all defected. For so many reasons, including those already expressed above, I believe Bodhi to be a servant leader. Servant leadership rests on three pillars: compassion, character, and competence. All of which Bodhi has in spades. He would not run a section the way Garrick did. Or the way Xaden ran his wing. Not that there was anything wrong with either of those philosophies necessarily. But he would pull with his squads, encourage them, equip them, support them, and push them gently to be their best. He would need to make certain they’re ready to face what he did in Resson, but he would do it with a deft, deliberate, more delicate hand than I think Xaden is willing or able to extend, because Bodhi Durran…
Is A Caretaker
So much of what has already been outlined above also represents an expression of this quality. From him helping Garrick protect Xaden’s solitude on the anniversary of Fen’s death. To him stepping between Aaric and Xaden when they start throwing barbs about Alic (which is also pragmatism, because hey, there’s a job to do). To him waiting with Xaden in the hall while Violet cleans up after Resson. He takes care of people both physically:
“Whoa!” Bodhi throws up one hand, the other clutching his rucksack. “I don’t want you to freeze to death on the flight there.” He yanks his flight jacket out of his pack and hands it to me.
Bodhi helps Aaric out of his [disguise], careful with his blistered hands. … “That’s a rebound burn,” Bodhi says. “It will clear up overnight if treated.”
”And tell Bodhi to track down whatever antidote she and the rest of her squad need.”
And emotionally, which leads me to the fact Bodhi…
Is Emotionally Attuned
An hour later, I’m bathed and impatient as I wait outside my room in a fresh set of leathers with Bodhi, who’s doing his best to lighten my mood just like he always does.
Bodhi reads people. Easily. He understands what Xaden’s saying without it being said . After Resson, he knows what Xaden needs from them - not questions, not reason, just action. He knows that Violet and Imogen need to run. And even when he can’t contradict Xaden’s orders, I believe he sympathizes with Violet’s driving need to do something to help, because it’s a drive he shares. Later, he knows not to carry Violet back to the quadrant after her burnout. And he’s the one that follows her into the courtyard to offer his jacket because he can see the panic plain as day. Just as he can see her disappointment when the wards fail. He can feel Xaden’s rage and terror as Violet lays comatose and poisoned (not that Xaden is overly subtle about it).
On top of all of that, Bodhi…
Is Beautiful
He’s handsome, with tawny brown skin crowned by a cloud of black curls and a litany of patches on what I can see of his uniform under his cloak. His features are close enough to Xaden’s that they might be related. Cousins, maybe?
…Bodhi has the same bronzed skin and strong brow line, but his features aren’t as angular as Xaden’s, and his eyes are a lighter shade of brown. He looks like a softer, more approachable version of his older cousin...
Even Violet, who only has eyes for Xaden, recognizes how attractive he is. Yet, as fair and fine the wrapping, I would heartily declare his character fairer still.
While this is by no means an exhaustive list of his virtues - he's also humble, adaptable, a peacemaker, a good listener, infinitely capable, empathetic, and hyperaware of how he should conduct himself in a given situation - I think the case for Bodhi Durran has been made.
(originally compiled for the Onyx Storm countdown days at the RQ Discord)
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looking for fluffy happy Xaden fanfic recs because i’m stressed and sad every page of onyx storm 🤣🤣🤣🤣 (i’m not done yet so no spoilers pls!!!!!)
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stuck between wanting to keep ciwyw rowan pocket sized and protecting him forever but also wanting to be ciwyw rowan’s embrace for the rest of my life.
down bad for him like he is for aelin 😭
oh, hi.
it has been a hot ass minute but i'm back baybeee. seriously though, if you're still here, still reading this, and still excited there was an update, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i love u guys to pieces!! enjoy <3
The cotton candy hues of the sunset were fading to nothing as he pulled into the long driveway to his house. Lights illuminated the edge of the path, but his house sat dark at the very end until he opened the gate, passed through, waited for it to close behind him, then signaled the garage to open. As soon as he opened the garage, his phone began to ring.
The shrill ringtone was enough to make his heart skip a beat in his chest before he realized the name and photo on his screen. Golden Boyo flashed across the top accompanied by a picture of the two of them holding a World Cup trophy high above their heads.
A heavy sigh escaped deep from within Rowan’s chest and he almost didn’t answer. His heavily tattooed thumb hovered over the deny button until he realized he had hardly texted anyone back all weekend. The thought of leaving his friends in the dust didn’t sit right with him when he knew for a fact that Aelin would likely yell at him for it until she was blue in the face and needed to lie down.
Against his better judgment, he answered. Even worse: he showed up at the bar his teammates were meeting up near Lorcan’s place. While he needed to be fully ready for practice, his friendships needed nurturing as well. It didn’t matter that he felt old and tired. It had been awhile since he met up with the guys and by the time Rowan was a few beers in, he felt better about the whole situation.
“We have practice tomorrow,” Lorcan reminded Fenrys. His tone was stern, his words were the law. It didn’t, however, change the way Fen’s eyes were roaming the bar looking for a body to explore all night. Rowan smirked, feeling the buzz from his drinks.
“That’s never stopped me before.” Fenrys winked at a man near the dartboard and Rowan watched as a rosy blush crept over the man’s face. No, it had never stopped him before. It was a lesson he still hadn’t learned: a sex marathon the night before practice or a game never did him any good. In fact, it made him play like absolute shit most of the time. “Speaking of people we’re bedding, how’s Aelin doing?”
“We aren’t sleeping together,” Rowan muttered into his pint glass. “She’s been sick a lot. Thankfully she can work from home most of the time.”
“Are we sure—“ Lorcan began, but Rowan held up a hand to stop him. He wasn’t dealing with his bullshit tonight regarding the legitimacy of the pregnancy. Rowan had no doubts, and was even happy. Lorcan was just looking out, but it didn’t stop the irritation that flooded him when he brought out his accusations and reservations.
“We’re positive. They’re the best ace I’ve ever gotten.”
“That’s cute,” Fenrys swooned. His chin was propped on his fist while he looked at Rowan.
“What?”
“You called them an ace.” Warmth bloomed up his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. The alcohol had loosened his lips and let the truth flow freely.
“Well,” he grumbled. “All it took was once and now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”
“You’re pathetic,” was all Lorcan said in response. Rowan couldn’t disagree. He was nothing if not a love sick puppy waiting for his girl to really come around to the idea of them.
Pathetic, indeed.
~*~
The blender was a blur of green and entirely too loud. Rowan was definitely getting old if the few beers he had the night before led to such a hangover. Being out so late last night was probably a mistake, but it had been fun to hang out with the guys outside of practice for once. Rowan was feeling it this morning though, already several pain killers deep. Water. He needed a lot of water.
He knew the greens and hydration would cure his ailments, but the sound of his phone buzzing might send him over the edge first. When his phone started ringing, he wanted to throw it into the blender, too.
Rowan wiped a towel over his face. His pulse pounded in his skull while sweat slipped down his face in lazy rivers from the workout that had kicked his ass. He stared down at his phone, the screen lighting up with the one person he truly had been avoiding since his relationship with Aelin began.
MOM CALLING…
He needed to call her. It was bad enough that his relationship was now public and he’d barely told his mom anything about Aelin, but he really needed to clue her in on the pregnancy. If that got out before it came from him she would be deeply wounded and he didn’t like the sound of that.
The texts she sent him were always a myriad of questions about Aelin. His mom wanted to know what she was like, where she was from, what her hobbies were. Most of that could be found on a google search, but his mom was old and barely had a grasp on the internet. Iris Whitethorn preferred books and newspapers to even learning what the internet had to offer. It was the only reason he had hope that he would beat the world to the pregnancy announcement. Regardless, the papers weren’t how he wanted to find out about his relationship, and she had.
He needed to be a better son.
That little fact hit him harder when he looked through his texts with his mom. All of them were incoming with varying questions about the girl in the photos. What was going on? Who was she? She’s awfully pretty. Rowan felt like he barely had any answers, so he hadn’t responded. While he sipped down his green juice and devoured his breakfast, he vowed to respond to her later today. A phone call was in order for all the shit he had to relay to her at this point.
Was a phone call enough to tell her about the baby? Probably not. Fuck.
Rowan’s hands raked through his hair while he gave himself a moment to groan his frustrations into the universe, hoping the answers would come back to him. There was no time for him to go see her soon. By the time he found a date that would work for both he and Aelin, it might be too late. She could be showing by then with rumors swirling through the media. He had no fucking idea how to tell her anyway. A flurry of emotions ran through his mind while he changed and got ready for practice. All of this would, unfortunately, have to wait.
Nothing yet from Aelin.. Rowan frowned. Sure, it was a bright and early 7 AM, but she was usually already up and getting her day started. He texted her first, wishing her a good day with hopes she felt better.
Rowan sighed heavily. The secret he was keeping curled into a ball in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could avoid telling her. Well, avoid wasn’t the right word. He just didn’t have the words to tell her he got a girl he barely knows pregnant and, yes, it’s actually his baby. It was still early, anyway. Still, it wasn’t sitting right with him. He would make a trip to go and see her soon and tell her then.
>> Mom: I want to know about this girl you’re seeing, Rowan Matthias.
<< Rowan: I’ll call you after practice. I promise.
>> Mom: You better.
~*~
Last night had been fun, but all the sprints and drills during practice were making Rowan nauseous. For the second time today, sweat was streaking down his entire body while he squirted water into his mouth. Gods, Coach was on one. It was like he knew every time there was a night out and made them work even harder.
Rowan was relieved when they were told to hit the showers. The guys followed behind him, Fenrys groaning about a persistent headache between his eyes. Even Lorcan, who was an absolute tank when it came to alcohol, was cursing and moaning. It would have been funny if he wasn’t in the same boat.
The steaming shower he stepped into was almost holy. Hot water pelted his body while he washed himself, taking a little more time than usual because of his ailments. He could feel his muscles loosening with every breath he took and Gods, it felt so good. When he finally wrapped it up, he quickly dried and got dressed. His friends were teasing each other while they did the same.
“Go a little too hard last night, Lorcan?” Fenrys crooned, wrapping his golden curls into a messy bun atop his head.
“I really don’t think you want to go down this road, pup,” he grumbled back. A smile twitched at the corner of Rowan’s lips as he grabbed his phone, deciding now was as good a time as any to call his mother.
“Hello?” Her sweet voice chimed after two rings.
“Good morning, mama,” he said, zipping his bag and tossing it over his shoulder.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls.” Not a question, though there was some hurt behind her words. Rowan rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Just busy with practice and games.”
“Is that Aelin?” Fenrys called from across the room. He pulled a shirt on and began to walk over to Rowan. “Is she still sick?”
“Is who still sick?” His mom inquired. Again, he sighed and shot Fen a warning look.
“Aelin has been feeling under the weather, Mom,” he emphasized her name and Fenrys looked immediately apologetic. Great.
“Well, what's the matter? I might have some good advice, you know. You better be taking care of that girl. Has she gotten you sick?”
“Nausea, maybe a stomach bug, no I’m not sick, and no I’m not taking care of her. She won’t let me. Aelin is so independent that I can’t get her to depend on me for anything right now.” It was probably a bigger truth than he was ready to share with his mom, much less all his friends. He made his way out of the locker room and Fen shouted an apology after him. Rowan flippantly waved his hand as the door shut behind him.
“Well, let's start with some remedies. I have just the thing that will help. It’s a tea I drank through my entire pregnancy to fight the nausea and it works like a charm.” Rowan almost choked at the mention of a pregnancy. Did she somehow know already? She couldn’t find out from anyone but him. It would destroy her if she discovered the news on a tabloid site. Fuck.
“That’d be great, I’ll send it to her.”
“Better yet, I’m due for a visit. How about I drive up and make it for her myself?” Shit. Fuck. Godsdamn the universe.
“Mom, right now isn’t really–”
“It’s never a good time,” she interjected. “You’ll be busy regardless. I don’t mind a little time on my own while you practice. It’ll give me plenty of time to get to know Aelin, too.”
“She lives in Varese,” he told her, trying to get her to back down.
“I know she does. Tabloids have pictures of you hanging around there any chance you get. And anyway, Fenrys has loose lips. Tell me her name again?”
“If you’ve seen the news articles, you know her name already.” There were plenty of grainy pictures of them sipping drinks at The Neon Moon, plus pap shots of them everywhere else. Rowan wasn’t used to quite so much attention. Sure, there were the occasional paparazzi that snapped photos of him around town, but with Aelin at his side it seemed to be more than usual.
“Aelin. Her name is Aelin Galathynius, but you already know that.”
“Well, since you aren’t taking care of Aelin I’m going to drive up and do it myself. Sometimes us women just don’t know how to ask for help when it’s needed. Besides, the poor girl doesn’t have her own mother close by to lean on for support. Maternal comfort goes a long way.”
There was no getting out of this. Maybe it would be a good thing, he pondered. They could tell her in person and maybe she wouldn’t go ballistic if Aelin was there. Stressful as all hell, but maybe it could work if he could get Aelin to come stay for a day or two.
“Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow, then?”
“I’ll be there in the morning,” she swore before hanging up. Now he just had to get Aelin to come down.
Rowan slumped down into his car and immediately called Aelin. His thumbs drummed on the steering wheel while it rang and rang, his anxiety building in his gut. A thousand things ran through his head: Was it too soon? Would it be weird? What if they didn’t get along?
“Hey you,” she said when the call connected, her voice like music to his ears. It soothed his anxiety, just talking to her. Just by being her.
“Hi.” It was impossible to stop the smile that crept over his face as he dropped his bag in the backseat and got in his car. “I have a favor to ask and an apology to give.”
“I’m intrigued, do go on.” Rowan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. Hervoice filtered through his car speakers, surrounding him wholly.
“Fenrys accidentally told my mom you’ve been sick and now she’s determined that you need her special tea and maternal comfort.”
“Ah,” she said, clearing her throat. “So is the favor meeting your mom? And is the apology for Fenrys?”
“The favor is that you come stay with me for a few days to meet her and let her mother hen you to death because there was no way I was getting out of this scenario while talking to her. But if you refuse I can try to get her to back down.” When Aelin laughed, a weight lifted from his chest. “The apology is for roping you into this mess. And for Fen.”
Aelin laughed, “I accept both. I’d love to meet your mom. Plus, maybe we can tell her about the baby while she’s here.”
Rowan was relieved she was so open to the whole ordeal. His heart squeezed in his chest that she wanted to meet his mom. Fuck, he was so gone for this girl. He was on a free fall and only she could catch him. He wasn’t looking forward to finding out what would happen if she didn’t.
“She’ll be here tomorrow. Is that okay?” He could hear papers shuffling in the background, the sound of a zipper and a small sigh from his girl.
“I’ll pack a suitcase and be there in a bit. I’ll bring my work stuff with me and set up in your office, if that’s okay.”
“What's mine is yours,” he swore.
“Okay,” she said softly, and Rowan could hear the smile in her voice. He was grinning, too.
“Okay. See you soon.”
“See you soon, Ro.” Ro. Was she trying to get him to crash his car from a heart explosion? He disconnected the call as he pulled into his driveway and took a deep breath. This was a good thing, right?
~*~
“Ro?” Aelin called out, stepping through the front door. He’d left it unlocked for her in case he was busy when she arrived.
“Kitchen!” He called back, so Aelin slipped off her shoes and padded through the house until she rounded the corner and saw him standing at the stove.
His sleeves were pushed up above his elbows and an apron was around his neck. A cutting board of vegetables sat on the counter while he stirred something in a pan. It smelled devine, and wasn’t making her stomach turn which was a huge win. Everything was setting it off lately.
“I know tacos are a safe food right now, so I thought we’d try fajitas to switch things up,” he said over his shoulder, turning briefly to grab the cutting board. The contents were dumped into the pan and she circled the counter, pausing beside him. Rowan stirred with his left hand and wrapped his right around her waist. Her stomach fluttered at the contact, but she didn’t pull away.
“Thank you,” she said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
“Always.” Aelin smiled up at him before stepping away to get a glass of water.
They made small talk while he cooked, everything from their days to little tidbits of what his mom was like. According to Rowan, she was the best mom in the world. He gushed about her cooking, about how he raised her alone after his father passed away when he was ten. She’s fiercely loyal to her people, and loves Rowan more than anything in the world. If the sun revolved around people, Iris would surely revolve around Rowan. He insisted it would be the same for Aelin and their baby.
The thought warmed her. This baby would have the best community in their corner. Not having to worry about the lack of a village was a huge relief. Everyone was dying to be involved on both sides, and many of Rowan’s teammates contacted Aelin just to check in on her. Aedion and Lysandra were already vying for favorite aunt/uncle. No, this baby would never know what it was like to not feel wholly loved by their people.
After dinner, they cleaned up despite Rowan’s protests that she didn’t need to do anything. Aelin dismissed him with the wave of her hand and worked on the dishes while he put away leftovers. He was right; it was a refreshing change to eat something other than tacos.
“I’m gonna shower,” she sighed, arms stretched above her head. Even though it was still pretty early, she was more than ready to don pajamas, curl up, and decompress from work and the drive down.
“I’m not going anywhere,” was his reply, and she knew he meant it more than just right now. Biting her lip, she slipped out of the kitchen and made her way upstairs.
The best shower in the house was Rowan’s. It had a rainwater shower head that felt so luxurious that Aelin swore she was going to get one for her house in Orynth. As soon as she stepped in she felt the day simply melt away. Hot water trickled down her skin while she carefully washed her body, then her hair. She really needed to get this showerhead. It was the height of luxury at the moment.
After drying off and changing clothes, she went back downstairs and found Rowan on the couch. He had changed clothes and was now in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Something about it was really doing something for Aelin. His tattooed bicep was along the back of the couch and she wanted to trace the lines everywhere they turned. When he looked up at her and grinned, something fluttered in her stomach. Gods, she was so screwed.
“Good shower?”
“Mhm,” she hummed, sitting close enough that his fingers brushed her shoulder. Rowan toyed with the ends of her damp hair for a moment, and Aelin was stunned at how comfortable the silence was. Nothing was being said, or communicated in any way, but it was such a cozy silence. She’d never experienced anything quite like it before.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Rowan said carefully, “but you look exhausted.”
Aelin took no offence, laughing as she rubbed her face. It was true. She wasn’t sleeping much, and when she did it was restless. Her hips were already beginning to ache and she wasn’t looking forward to it getting worse as her body grew and changed. Still, she was so tired. Most of the time she was asleep by nine-thirty.
“Because I am,” she sighed. “There’s so much that needs to be done for the foundation before the office launch here. I feel like I’m treading water because there’s always more to do. I love my job, and I can’t wait to see the effects it has on the community, but I think I forgot how much it is. All the events I need to organize, getting the office picture perfect. My team is amazing but some days I get asked so many questions that I never want to speak again.”
“What you’re doing is fantastic, and I will be at every event I can be. However, if you need to take a breather, take one. A day off is okay. You can do all of this, I don’t doubt it, but you are growing a human. It might slow you down a little, but you’ll get it taken care of.”
“I haven’t told my staff yet. I want to wait until my next scan to make sure everything is good before I tell anyone else. Except your mom, if you want to do that while she’s here. Family doesn’t count. Anyway, I think they’ll understand my work-from-home days a little more once the cat is out of the bag. I think Luca is on to me, though. Kid is way too perceptive and I’ve been spending way too much time with him working on the website.”
“I’m sure they’re sympathetic now. Plus, you’re getting everything done you need to, right?”
“Of course. I think that’s part of why I’m so tired. I’ll stay until like eight, and then go home and eat, shower, and go to bed.” She sighed again, fingers running through her hair.
“Why don’t you get some sleep? My mom can be a lot,” he admitted.
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I swear I’m usually a lot more fun than this,” she laughed, and he joined in with her. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb running over her skin. There were calluses on his hands that always felt strangely good.
“Goodnight, then.” His hand dropped from her face and she was glad. Heat was creeping onto her cheeks and if she didn’t get out of there, she would look like a tomato soon. It was ridiculous that his touch set her aflame so easily. Aelin wasn’t sure she would ever get used to it.
Upstairs, she wasn’t sure which room to enter. There was Rowan’s room, and then the guest room. They didn’t say anything about sleeping together tonight. Hell, Rowan didn’t broach the topic at all. It was tempting to crawl into his bed, but she turned into the guest room, which was unofficially her room, instead.
~*~
Aelin couldn’t sleep. It was just after ten, and she had maybe dozed off once for a few minutes. Otherwise she was watching the ceiling fan whirring above her head. The house was so quiet. Much better than her apartment, where upstairs neighbors were sometimes a little heavy footed. Not too long ago,she heard Rowan walk down the hall and close his door. She chewed on her lip, gave herself a little pep talk, then pushed out of bed and opened her door before she could talk herself out of it.
Two knocks on his door, followed by a soft, “Rowan?”
“Come in, love,” she heard, muffled through the door. Once it was open she was treated to a shirtless Rowan sitting up in bed. Glasses were perched on his nose and he seemed to be reading a book.
“Hey,” she said, lip tucking between her teeth while she rocked back and forth on her heels.
“Hi,” he chuckled, shutting the book and putting it on his nightstand. “What are you doing awake?”
“I can’t sleep. Plus, like, your mom is under the assumption that we’re together so we probably need to sleep in the same room anyway. Why not start now? And we’re not not together, so it would be weird if we weren’t sleeping in the same room. You know?”
“I think if we’re not not together, that means we’re together, Aelin.” A smile was tugging at his lips and she wanted to kiss it until she saw all of his teeth. She took it as her chance to walk over and get in bed with him, wiggling down in the blankets and pillows until she was fully enveloped in his scent.
“Call it what you want,” she shrugged, the blanket covering the little grin on her face.
“What are you calling it?” Rowan tilted his head slightly, glasses sliding down his nose. Gods, he was so… there were so many words for what he was right now. All of them were positive because this look and banter was really doing it for her.
“You know I’m calling you my boyfriend.” Aelin’s eyes rolled in an attempt to seem nonchalant.
“You can trust me, Aelin,” he said softly, hand reaching to cover hers. Their fingers slid together seamlessly, and more of that fluttery nonsense took over her stomach. She licked her lips, eyes focused on their hands.
“I know.” And she did. They barely knew each other, yet she knew he was becoming a safe person for her. There weren’t too many of those anymore. Her inner circle was small, yet she knew that because of Rowan, it was growing.
“Yeah?” His finger bumped beneath her chin and she looked at him, fighting the tears that threatened to pour over.
“You’re going to make me cry, and then your mom is going to be here in the morning while I have a puffy, red face. I’ll look like a little tomato and I’ll be really mad about it.” Rowan snorted, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
“A beautiful tomato,” he said, lips pressing to the top of her head like he couldn’t help himself. Beneath the blankets, she was smiling.
“Maybe after your mom leaves… maybe we can talk before I go back to Wendlyn?” She lowered the blankets beneath her chin and looked up at him. A single tear had managed to escape and he wiped it with his fingertips.
“It’s a date,” he promised, nodding his head almost too-eagerly. Clearly he was waiting for this moment. Aelin hated that she had to be so guarded these days, but there was too much damage in her past to not be. Her heart had been crushed into oblivion before, and she couldn’t risk it. Now that a baby was involved? Gods, she had to be so, so careful.
“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” She finally asked, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth. Rowan’s eyes widened at the inquiry, mouth opening and closing several times before he found letters to string into a sentence.
“I wasn’t sure you were ready for that,” he said slowly, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Aelin smiled, a whisper of a laugh escaping her mouth.
“I’m ready to be kissed, Rowan.”
It seemed that he didn’t have to be told twice. Rowan leaned in and kissed her lips softly as if testing the waters. Aelin was the one to melt into him, fingers braiding into his hair to pull him closer. He groaned quietly, parting his lips and she was more than eager to sweep her tongue against his.
Gods, yes. This. There had been moments where she wondered if the tension was only that. Just tension that fizzled out after the first entanglement. The feeling in the pit of her stomach told her otherwise. Butterflies fluttered up her ribcage and she gasped. It wasn’t a one time thing. If she played her cards right… she could have this forever.
The thought clanged through her, sobering her enough that she tugged on his hair a little. Rowan groaned and it really didn’t help dampen her desire. The sound was delicious, something she wanted to eat like cake until he had nothing else to give her.
“Rowan,” she finally sighed, his lips closing over her pulse. Fuck, it felt so good. “We said slow.”
“This is slow,” he murmured, teeth grazing her skin and tongue doing the laziest swirl over her skin. Oh, gods.
“Slower,” she laughed, taking his face in her hands and pulling him away herself before her resolve withered into nothing.
“Whatever you want,” he promised, licking his lips. Rowan’s cheeks were flushed and she had to lean in and kiss them both, planting one more on his lips. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t melting at the sight of him, rosy cheeks and crinkles by his eyes from smiling.
“I know it’s not easy–”
“I’ll do anything you want. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Not just for sex. For everything.” Everything. Aelin’s heart fluttered madly in her chest, shaking her ribcage. Wasn’t that the part she was most scared of? It excited the hell out of her at the same time. Everything with Rowan was scary, and yet… Aelin found herself looking forward to it.
It was easy to curl up in his arms, head on his chest. One of his hands traced sleepy shapes over her back and shoulders, and when sleep came to claim her, she had no say in the matter. Feeling safer than she had in awhile, she counted the beats of his heart until she fell asleep.
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we’re not gonna talk about how fast i got here when i saw this in my notifs 🫣
i am EXCITTTTEEEDDD to read this heheh. welcome back❤️❤️❤️❤️
oh, hi.
it has been a hot ass minute but i'm back baybeee. seriously though, if you're still here, still reading this, and still excited there was an update, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i love u guys to pieces!! enjoy <3
The cotton candy hues of the sunset were fading to nothing as he pulled into the long driveway to his house. Lights illuminated the edge of the path, but his house sat dark at the very end until he opened the gate, passed through, waited for it to close behind him, then signaled the garage to open. As soon as he opened the garage, his phone began to ring.
The shrill ringtone was enough to make his heart skip a beat in his chest before he realized the name and photo on his screen. Golden Boyo flashed across the top accompanied by a picture of the two of them holding a World Cup trophy high above their heads.
A heavy sigh escaped deep from within Rowan’s chest and he almost didn’t answer. His heavily tattooed thumb hovered over the deny button until he realized he had hardly texted anyone back all weekend. The thought of leaving his friends in the dust didn’t sit right with him when he knew for a fact that Aelin would likely yell at him for it until she was blue in the face and needed to lie down.
Against his better judgment, he answered. Even worse: he showed up at the bar his teammates were meeting up near Lorcan’s place. While he needed to be fully ready for practice, his friendships needed nurturing as well. It didn’t matter that he felt old and tired. It had been awhile since he met up with the guys and by the time Rowan was a few beers in, he felt better about the whole situation.
“We have practice tomorrow,” Lorcan reminded Fenrys. His tone was stern, his words were the law. It didn’t, however, change the way Fen’s eyes were roaming the bar looking for a body to explore all night. Rowan smirked, feeling the buzz from his drinks.
“That’s never stopped me before.” Fenrys winked at a man near the dartboard and Rowan watched as a rosy blush crept over the man’s face. No, it had never stopped him before. It was a lesson he still hadn’t learned: a sex marathon the night before practice or a game never did him any good. In fact, it made him play like absolute shit most of the time. “Speaking of people we’re bedding, how’s Aelin doing?”
“We aren’t sleeping together,” Rowan muttered into his pint glass. “She’s been sick a lot. Thankfully she can work from home most of the time.”
“Are we sure—“ Lorcan began, but Rowan held up a hand to stop him. He wasn’t dealing with his bullshit tonight regarding the legitimacy of the pregnancy. Rowan had no doubts, and was even happy. Lorcan was just looking out, but it didn’t stop the irritation that flooded him when he brought out his accusations and reservations.
“We’re positive. They’re the best ace I’ve ever gotten.”
“That’s cute,” Fenrys swooned. His chin was propped on his fist while he looked at Rowan.
“What?”
“You called them an ace.” Warmth bloomed up his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. The alcohol had loosened his lips and let the truth flow freely.
“Well,” he grumbled. “All it took was once and now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”
“You’re pathetic,” was all Lorcan said in response. Rowan couldn’t disagree. He was nothing if not a love sick puppy waiting for his girl to really come around to the idea of them.
Pathetic, indeed.
~*~
The blender was a blur of green and entirely too loud. Rowan was definitely getting old if the few beers he had the night before led to such a hangover. Being out so late last night was probably a mistake, but it had been fun to hang out with the guys outside of practice for once. Rowan was feeling it this morning though, already several pain killers deep. Water. He needed a lot of water.
He knew the greens and hydration would cure his ailments, but the sound of his phone buzzing might send him over the edge first. When his phone started ringing, he wanted to throw it into the blender, too.
Rowan wiped a towel over his face. His pulse pounded in his skull while sweat slipped down his face in lazy rivers from the workout that had kicked his ass. He stared down at his phone, the screen lighting up with the one person he truly had been avoiding since his relationship with Aelin began.
MOM CALLING…
He needed to call her. It was bad enough that his relationship was now public and he’d barely told his mom anything about Aelin, but he really needed to clue her in on the pregnancy. If that got out before it came from him she would be deeply wounded and he didn’t like the sound of that.
The texts she sent him were always a myriad of questions about Aelin. His mom wanted to know what she was like, where she was from, what her hobbies were. Most of that could be found on a google search, but his mom was old and barely had a grasp on the internet. Iris Whitethorn preferred books and newspapers to even learning what the internet had to offer. It was the only reason he had hope that he would beat the world to the pregnancy announcement. Regardless, the papers weren’t how he wanted to find out about his relationship, and she had.
He needed to be a better son.
That little fact hit him harder when he looked through his texts with his mom. All of them were incoming with varying questions about the girl in the photos. What was going on? Who was she? She’s awfully pretty. Rowan felt like he barely had any answers, so he hadn’t responded. While he sipped down his green juice and devoured his breakfast, he vowed to respond to her later today. A phone call was in order for all the shit he had to relay to her at this point.
Was a phone call enough to tell her about the baby? Probably not. Fuck.
Rowan’s hands raked through his hair while he gave himself a moment to groan his frustrations into the universe, hoping the answers would come back to him. There was no time for him to go see her soon. By the time he found a date that would work for both he and Aelin, it might be too late. She could be showing by then with rumors swirling through the media. He had no fucking idea how to tell her anyway. A flurry of emotions ran through his mind while he changed and got ready for practice. All of this would, unfortunately, have to wait.
Nothing yet from Aelin.. Rowan frowned. Sure, it was a bright and early 7 AM, but she was usually already up and getting her day started. He texted her first, wishing her a good day with hopes she felt better.
Rowan sighed heavily. The secret he was keeping curled into a ball in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could avoid telling her. Well, avoid wasn’t the right word. He just didn’t have the words to tell her he got a girl he barely knows pregnant and, yes, it’s actually his baby. It was still early, anyway. Still, it wasn’t sitting right with him. He would make a trip to go and see her soon and tell her then.
>> Mom: I want to know about this girl you’re seeing, Rowan Matthias.
<< Rowan: I’ll call you after practice. I promise.
>> Mom: You better.
~*~
Last night had been fun, but all the sprints and drills during practice were making Rowan nauseous. For the second time today, sweat was streaking down his entire body while he squirted water into his mouth. Gods, Coach was on one. It was like he knew every time there was a night out and made them work even harder.
Rowan was relieved when they were told to hit the showers. The guys followed behind him, Fenrys groaning about a persistent headache between his eyes. Even Lorcan, who was an absolute tank when it came to alcohol, was cursing and moaning. It would have been funny if he wasn’t in the same boat.
The steaming shower he stepped into was almost holy. Hot water pelted his body while he washed himself, taking a little more time than usual because of his ailments. He could feel his muscles loosening with every breath he took and Gods, it felt so good. When he finally wrapped it up, he quickly dried and got dressed. His friends were teasing each other while they did the same.
“Go a little too hard last night, Lorcan?” Fenrys crooned, wrapping his golden curls into a messy bun atop his head.
“I really don’t think you want to go down this road, pup,” he grumbled back. A smile twitched at the corner of Rowan’s lips as he grabbed his phone, deciding now was as good a time as any to call his mother.
“Hello?” Her sweet voice chimed after two rings.
“Good morning, mama,” he said, zipping his bag and tossing it over his shoulder.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls.” Not a question, though there was some hurt behind her words. Rowan rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Just busy with practice and games.”
“Is that Aelin?” Fenrys called from across the room. He pulled a shirt on and began to walk over to Rowan. “Is she still sick?”
“Is who still sick?” His mom inquired. Again, he sighed and shot Fen a warning look.
“Aelin has been feeling under the weather, Mom,” he emphasized her name and Fenrys looked immediately apologetic. Great.
“Well, what's the matter? I might have some good advice, you know. You better be taking care of that girl. Has she gotten you sick?”
“Nausea, maybe a stomach bug, no I’m not sick, and no I’m not taking care of her. She won’t let me. Aelin is so independent that I can’t get her to depend on me for anything right now.” It was probably a bigger truth than he was ready to share with his mom, much less all his friends. He made his way out of the locker room and Fen shouted an apology after him. Rowan flippantly waved his hand as the door shut behind him.
“Well, let's start with some remedies. I have just the thing that will help. It’s a tea I drank through my entire pregnancy to fight the nausea and it works like a charm.” Rowan almost choked at the mention of a pregnancy. Did she somehow know already? She couldn’t find out from anyone but him. It would destroy her if she discovered the news on a tabloid site. Fuck.
“That’d be great, I’ll send it to her.”
“Better yet, I’m due for a visit. How about I drive up and make it for her myself?” Shit. Fuck. Godsdamn the universe.
“Mom, right now isn’t really–”
“It’s never a good time,” she interjected. “You’ll be busy regardless. I don’t mind a little time on my own while you practice. It’ll give me plenty of time to get to know Aelin, too.”
“She lives in Wendlyn,” he told her, trying to get her to back down.
“I know she does. Tabloids have pictures of you hanging around there any chance you get. And anyway, Fenrys has loose lips. Tell me her name again?”
“If you’ve seen the news articles, you know her name already.” There were plenty of grainy pictures of them sipping drinks at The Neon Moon, plus pap shots of them everywhere else. Rowan wasn’t used to quite so much attention. Sure, there were the occasional paparazzi that snapped photos of him around town, but with Aelin at his side it seemed to be more than usual.
“Aelin. Her name is Aelin Galathynius, but you already know that.”
“Well, since you aren’t taking care of Aelin I’m going to drive up and do it myself. Sometimes us women just don’t know how to ask for help when it’s needed. Besides, the poor girl doesn’t have her own mother close by to lean on for support. Maternal comfort goes a long way.”
There was no getting out of this. Maybe it would be a good thing, he pondered. They could tell her in person and maybe she wouldn’t go ballistic if Aelin was there. Stressful as all hell, but maybe it could work if he could get Aelin to come stay for a day or two.
“Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow, then?”
“I’ll be there in the morning,” she swore before hanging up. Now he just had to get Aelin to come down.
Rowan slumped down into his car and immediately called Aelin. His thumbs drummed on the steering wheel while it rang and rang, his anxiety building in his gut. A thousand things ran through his head: Was it too soon? Would it be weird? What if they didn’t get along?
“Hey you,” she said when the call connected, her voice like music to his ears. It soothed his anxiety, just talking to her. Just by being her.
“Hi.” It was impossible to stop the smile that crept over his face as he dropped his bag in the backseat and got in his car. “I have a favor to ask and an apology to give.”
“I’m intrigued, do go on.” Rowan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. Hervoice filtered through his car speakers, surrounding him wholly.
“Fenrys accidentally told my mom you’ve been sick and now she’s determined that you need her special tea and maternal comfort.”
“Ah,” she said, clearing her throat. “So is the favor meeting your mom? And is the apology for Fenrys?”
“The favor is that you come stay with me for a few days to meet her and let her mother hen you to death because there was no way I was getting out of this scenario while talking to her. But if you refuse I can try to get her to back down.” When Aelin laughed, a weight lifted from his chest. “The apology is for roping you into this mess. And for Fen.”
Aelin laughed, “I accept both. I’d love to meet your mom. Plus, maybe we can tell her about the baby while she’s here.”
Rowan was relieved she was so open to the whole ordeal. His heart squeezed in his chest that she wanted to meet his mom. Fuck, he was so gone for this girl. He was on a free fall and only she could catch him. He wasn’t looking forward to finding out what would happen if she didn’t.
“She’ll be here tomorrow. Is that okay?” He could hear papers shuffling in the background, the sound of a zipper and a small sigh from his girl.
“I’ll pack a suitcase and be there in a bit. I’ll bring my work stuff with me and set up in your office, if that’s okay.”
“What's mine is yours,” he swore.
“Okay,” she said softly, and Rowan could hear the smile in her voice. He was grinning, too.
“Okay. See you soon.”
“See you soon, Ro.” Ro. Was she trying to get him to crash his car from a heart explosion? He disconnected the call as he pulled into his driveway and took a deep breath. This was a good thing, right?
~*~
“Ro?” Aelin called out, stepping through the front door. He’d left it unlocked for her in case he was busy when she arrived.
“Kitchen!” He called back, so Aelin slipped off her shoes and padded through the house until she rounded the corner and saw him standing at the stove.
His sleeves were pushed up above his elbows and an apron was around his neck. A cutting board of vegetables sat on the counter while he stirred something in a pan. It smelled devine, and wasn’t making her stomach turn which was a huge win. Everything was setting it off lately.
“I know tacos are a safe food right now, so I thought we’d try fajitas to switch things up,” he said over his shoulder, turning briefly to grab the cutting board. The contents were dumped into the pan and she circled the counter, pausing beside him. Rowan stirred with his left hand and wrapped his right around her waist. Her stomach fluttered at the contact, but she didn’t pull away.
“Thank you,” she said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
“Always.” Aelin smiled up at him before stepping away to get a glass of water.
They made small talk while he cooked, everything from their days to little tidbits of what his mom was like. According to Rowan, she was the best mom in the world. He gushed about her cooking, about how he raised her alone after his father passed away when he was ten. She’s fiercely loyal to her people, and loves Rowan more than anything in the world. If the sun revolved around people, Iris would surely revolve around Rowan. He insisted it would be the same for Aelin and their baby.
The thought warmed her. This baby would have the best community in their corner. Not having to worry about the lack of a village was a huge relief. Everyone was dying to be involved on both sides, and many of Rowan’s teammates contacted Aelin just to check in on her. Aedion and Lysandra were already vying for favorite aunt/uncle. No, this baby would never know what it was like to not feel wholly loved by their people.
After dinner, they cleaned up despite Rowan’s protests that she didn’t need to do anything. Aelin dismissed him with the wave of her hand and worked on the dishes while he put away leftovers. He was right; it was a refreshing change to eat something other than tacos.
“I’m gonna shower,” she sighed, arms stretched above her head. Even though it was still pretty early, she was more than ready to don pajamas, curl up, and decompress from work and the drive down.
“I’m not going anywhere,” was his reply, and she knew he meant it more than just right now. Biting her lip, she slipped out of the kitchen and made her way upstairs.
The best shower in the house was Rowan’s. It had a rainwater shower head that felt so luxurious that Aelin swore she was going to get one for her house in Orynth. As soon as she stepped in she felt the day simply melt away. Hot water trickled down her skin while she carefully washed her body, then her hair. She really needed to get this showerhead. It was the height of luxury at the moment.
After drying off and changing clothes, she went back downstairs and found Rowan on the couch. He had changed clothes and was now in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Something about it was really doing something for Aelin. His tattooed bicep was along the back of the couch and she wanted to trace the lines everywhere they turned. When he looked up at her and grinned, something fluttered in her stomach. Gods, she was so screwed.
“Good shower?”
“Mhm,” she hummed, sitting close enough that his fingers brushed her shoulder. Rowan toyed with the ends of her damp hair for a moment, and Aelin was stunned at how comfortable the silence was. Nothing was being said, or communicated in any way, but it was such a cozy silence. She’d never experienced anything quite like it before.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Rowan said carefully, “but you look exhausted.”
Aelin took no offence, laughing as she rubbed her face. It was true. She wasn’t sleeping much, and when she did it was restless. Her hips were already beginning to ache and she wasn’t looking forward to it getting worse as her body grew and changed. Still, she was so tired. Most of the time she was asleep by nine-thirty.
“Because I am,” she sighed. “There’s so much that needs to be done for the foundation before the office launch here. I feel like I’m treading water because there’s always more to do. I love my job, and I can’t wait to see the effects it has on the community, but I think I forgot how much it is. All the events I need to organize, getting the office picture perfect. My team is amazing but some days I get asked so many questions that I never want to speak again.”
“What you’re doing is fantastic, and I will be at every event I can be. However, if you need to take a breather, take one. A day off is okay. You can do all of this, I don’t doubt it, but you are growing a human. It might slow you down a little, but you’ll get it taken care of.”
“I haven’t told my staff yet. I want to wait until my next scan to make sure everything is good before I tell anyone else. Except your mom, if you want to do that while she’s here. Family doesn’t count. Anyway, I think they’ll understand my work-from-home days a little more once the cat is out of the bag. I think Luca is on to me, though. Kid is way too perceptive and I’ve been spending way too much time with him working on the website.”
“I’m sure they’re sympathetic now. Plus, you’re getting everything done you need to, right?”
“Of course. I think that’s part of why I’m so tired. I’ll stay until like eight, and then go home and eat, shower, and go to bed.” She sighed again, fingers running through her hair.
“Why don’t you get some sleep? My mom can be a lot,” he admitted.
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I swear I’m usually a lot more fun than this,” she laughed, and he joined in with her. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb running over her skin. There were calluses on his hands that always felt strangely good.
“Goodnight, then.” His hand dropped from her face and she was glad. Heat was creeping onto her cheeks and if she didn’t get out of there, she would look like a tomato soon. It was ridiculous that his touch set her aflame so easily. Aelin wasn’t sure she would ever get used to it.
Upstairs, she wasn’t sure which room to enter. There was Rowan’s room, and then the guest room. They didn’t say anything about sleeping together tonight. Hell, Rowan didn’t broach the topic at all. It was tempting to crawl into his bed, but she turned into the guest room, which was unofficially her room, instead.
~*~
Aelin couldn’t sleep. It was just after ten, and she had maybe dozed off once for a few minutes. Otherwise she was watching the ceiling fan whirring above her head. The house was so quiet. Much better than her apartment, where upstairs neighbors were sometimes a little heavy footed. Not too long ago,she heard Rowan walk down the hall and close his door. She chewed on her lip, gave herself a little pep talk, then pushed out of bed and opened her door before she could talk herself out of it.
Two knocks on his door, followed by a soft, “Rowan?”
“Come in, love,” she heard, muffled through the door. Once it was open she was treated to a shirtless Rowan sitting up in bed. Glasses were perched on his nose and he seemed to be reading a book.
“Hey,” she said, lip tucking between her teeth while she rocked back and forth on her heels.
“Hi,” he chuckled, shutting the book and putting it on his nightstand. “What are you doing awake?”
“I can’t sleep. Plus, like, your mom is under the assumption that we’re together so we probably need to sleep in the same room anyway. Why not start now? And we’re not not together, so it would be weird if we weren’t sleeping in the same room. You know?”
“I think if we’re not not together, that means we’re together, Aelin.” A smile was tugging at his lips and she wanted to kiss it until she saw all of his teeth. She took it as her chance to walk over and get in bed with him, wiggling down in the blankets and pillows until she was fully enveloped in his scent.
“Call it what you want,” she shrugged, the blanket covering the little grin on her face.
“What are you calling it?” Rowan tilted his head slightly, glasses sliding down his nose. Gods, he was so… there were so many words for what he was right now. All of them were positive because this look and banter was really doing it for her.
“You know I’m calling you my boyfriend.” Aelin’s eyes rolled in an attempt to seem nonchalant.
“You can trust me, Aelin,” he said softly, hand reaching to cover hers. Their fingers slid together seamlessly, and more of that fluttery nonsense took over her stomach. She licked her lips, eyes focused on their hands.
“I know.” And she did. They barely knew each other, yet she knew he was becoming a safe person for her. There weren’t too many of those anymore. Her inner circle was small, yet she knew that because of Rowan, it was growing.
“Yeah?” His finger bumped beneath her chin and she looked at him, fighting the tears that threatened to pour over.
“You’re going to make me cry, and then your mom is going to be here in the morning while I have a puffy, red face. I’ll look like a little tomato and I’ll be really mad about it.” Rowan snorted, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
“A beautiful tomato,” he said, lips pressing to the top of her head like he couldn’t help himself. Beneath the blankets, she was smiling.
“Maybe after your mom leaves… maybe we can talk before I go back to Wendlyn?” She lowered the blankets beneath her chin and looked up at him. A single tear had managed to escape and he wiped it with his fingertips.
“It’s a date,” he promised, nodding his head almost too-eagerly. Clearly he was waiting for this moment. Aelin hated that she had to be so guarded these days, but there was too much damage in her past to not be. Her heart had been crushed into oblivion before, and she couldn’t risk it. Now that a baby was involved? Gods, she had to be so, so careful.
“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” She finally asked, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth. Rowan’s eyes widened at the inquiry, mouth opening and closing several times before he found letters to string into a sentence.
“I wasn’t sure you were ready for that,” he said slowly, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Aelin smiled, a whisper of a laugh escaping her mouth.
“I’m ready to be kissed, Rowan.”
It seemed that he didn’t have to be told twice. Rowan leaned in and kissed her lips softly as if testing the waters. Aelin was the one to melt into him, fingers braiding into his hair to pull him closer. He groaned quietly, parting his lips and she was more than eager to sweep her tongue against his.
Gods, yes. This. There had been moments where she wondered if the tension was only that. Just tension that fizzled out after the first entanglement. The feeling in the pit of her stomach told her otherwise. Butterflies fluttered up her ribcage and she gasped. It wasn’t a one time thing. If she played her cards right… she could have this forever.
The thought clanged through her, sobering her enough that she tugged on his hair a little. Rowan groaned and it really didn’t help dampen her desire. The sound was delicious, something she wanted to eat like cake until he had nothing else to give her.
“Rowan,” she finally sighed, his lips closing over her pulse. Fuck, it felt so good. “We said slow.”
“This is slow,” he murmured, teeth grazing her skin and tongue doing the laziest swirl over her skin. Oh, gods.
“Slower,” she laughed, taking his face in her hands and pulling him away herself before her resolve withered into nothing.
“Whatever you want,” he promised, licking his lips. Rowan’s cheeks were flushed and she had to lean in and kiss them both, planting one more on his lips. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t melting at the sight of him, rosy cheeks and crinkles by his eyes from smiling.
“I know it’s not easy–”
“I’ll do anything you want. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Not just for sex. For everything.” Everything. Aelin’s heart fluttered madly in her chest, shaking her ribcage. Wasn’t that the part she was most scared of? It excited the hell out of her at the same time. Everything with Rowan was scary, and yet… Aelin found herself looking forward to it.
It was easy to curl up in his arms, head on his chest. One of his hands traced sleepy shapes over her back and shoulders, and when sleep came to claim her, she had no say in the matter. Feeling safer than she had in awhile, she counted the beats of his heart until she fell asleep.
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Stay a Little Longer - part 1
Masterlist
Written for @tomtenadia as part of the 2024 Rowaelin Secret Santa!
Happy Yulemas, Nadia!
I know you don’t celebrate Christmas, so I wrote you the regular canonverse(ish) pregnancy fic! It got much longer than I predicted (like 9k so far and a bit more to go), so I’ll be posting it into parts throughout the gift exchange period.
You cannot tell my excitement when I drew your name in that website. Your friendship is one I treasure so much, and I love discussing books and fics with you, crazy time zones be damned. I hope you’re having a wonderful time, and that your 2025 gets to be filled with peacefulness and joy the way you deserve. ❤️
Also, thank you @goddess-aelin for organizing the event!! ✨❤️
Warnings: none
Words: 657
Aelin has never burned a drawing room before.
The intricate carvings in gold that decorated the walls would melt before the velvet draperies and furniture could catch it. She had never willed her fire to kill people, but to burn a room with four royals and Fenrys—Prince Rowan’s pet nobleman, or maybe it was the other way around—was a bold move nonetheless.
Two males from the highest ranks of Doranelle’s military. Even with Aedion alongside her, Aelin was sure her father would’ve vetoed this trip had he known Prince Rowan and Lord Fenrys are here as well.
As a child, Aelin would spend hours staring into open flame, watching its dance as a single spark slowly took over like dominoes cascading in a line; with her, not so much. With Aelin, one second, things were, and in the other they weren’t.
Aelin traveled all the way to Wendlyn in her human form without a worry about needing to use her powers for military purposes, it never occurred to her that her uncle might ask her to light his cigar.
“Are you quite all right, dear?” Uncle Glaston kindly asked, his cigar still hanging from between his fingers.
“Perfect,” Aelin said, smiling as she straightened in her seat. Behind him, Aedion was the one who looked unwell, terrified eyes begging her not to proceed. Rather discouraging, but he meant well. At the Orynth Castle, men didn’t ask her to light up their cigars—and if they did, a healer might check for their mental wellbeing.
The shifting to her demi-Fae form made her wince. It’d been too long since she did, and the heightened senses added to the lava bubbling underneath her skin, begging to be let out—for a moment, it overwhelmed her.
She inhaled deeply, begging the fire to stay put and let the smallest amount of it rise…
A crackling roar and a deep vibration boomed in the drawing room—it was immediately stifled, but followed by the horrifying sight of burn marks on Uncle Glaston’s chaise, along with the lack of sights of the cigar she was supposed to light up—not blow up.
Aelin used all her Fae speed to get to her feet and run her uncle’s way. “Did I hurt you?”
He waved her off. “It’s alright.” Glaston grabbed another cigar and held it up. “If you don’t mind.”
Aelin gave him a tense smile and decided on another route: turning her fingers into matches—lighting herself up was always easier than directing fire elsewhere. Safer. She focused her mind, body and strength on her pointer finger, willing for a single spark to show…
Only to watch her entire arm combust, tall flames dancing with the wind, brightening the room in ways no evening candlelight could.
It was a quick burst. Before Aelin could shovel it inside again, she felt the wind that sparked her flames stifle them—it licked over her arm, slowly sending the flames inside until only the tip of her finger was lit. However, she didn’t feel stifled. It didn’t feel suffocating like every other attempt reign over her abilities did—it felt like an embrace.
A tug in her gut took her breath away, but remaining little flame on her forefinger flickered. It was so vivid, it resembled an invisible string lassoing her from across the room. Frozen in place, Aelin didn’t notice her uncle lightning his cigar.
She felt like a shooting star—ethereal. A blink-and-you'll-miss-it event, yet impossible to miss. On a predetermined path that felt like she was free-falling into the unknown.
Her heart snapped shut like a suitcase’s fasteners did, and suddenly the room didn’t have 360 degrees for her eyes to wander anymore.
Her head whipped to the spot across the room that felt incandescent, like moth to the flame.
Only to find Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle already staring at her, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.
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i know places | rowaelin one shot
(needed an angst break, here’s some fluff!)
As Aelin watched Chaol hastily pack his things from their bedroom in the shared vacation cabin, she marveled at the fact that she felt nothing. They had barely just arrived at the snowy retreat; indeed, Aelin had only looked outside at their view of the ski resort for a few moments before Chaol’s phone had dinged. She’d glanced at it carelessly. They’d been dating for years, and they had few secrets.
At least, that’s what she thought. What a way to find out about her boyfriend’s affair.
Keep reading
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one of my faves atm 😍
Third Time's the Charm
Chapter 5 | 6.6K
—
‘Hey, you’re home early!’ Mor chirps as she opens the door and flounces inside. She’s halfway across the room to her when she skids to a halt, the smile falling from her face as her eyes zero in on Feyre. ‘What’s wrong, honey?’ And that’s all it takes for Feyre to break.
—
Read on AO3
Masterlist
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this is so good!!!! so excited for the rest
Happy @acotargiftexchange, @shadowisles-writes!
“Happy birthday, my prince.” Feyre dropped into a bow just shallow enough to be insolent. She rose and inclined her head to the dais. “My lady. High Lord.” “Lady Archeron,” Rhys purred, masking his shock with wicked delight. “What a surprise.” He dropped his gaze to her trophy. “I don’t suppose you brought me a present for the festivities?” Feyre’s eyes were walls of blue ice, but Rhys saw a mischievous fire sparking far behind her mask. “Your birthday gift is my attendance.” The crowd shifted uneasily. “But,” Feyre added, with a smile that made even Rhys’s skin prickle, “consider this an apology for arriving late.”
I had so much fun tailoring a feysand fic for you, and I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for letting me pick your brain these past few months - I have a lot of treats for you lined up in the coming chapters!
And a huge shoutout to the exchange mods - this is my first exchange for this fandom, and it's been a great experience because of all the work you've done to make sure it runs smoothly.
Read it on AO3.
Word Count: 5,357 (1/4 chapters)
Rating: Explicit (eventual smut, violence)
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, background ships
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Realizing he'd forgotten to tell Rowan about the letter he'd received from the Bane, Aedion Ashryver walked into Aelin's suite of rooms in time to see that Aelin was awake--finally awake, and lifting her to Rowan's. They were sitting on the bed, Aelin in Rowan's lap, the Fae warrior's arms locked around her as he looked at her the way she deserved to be looked at. And when they kissed, deeply, without hesitation--
Rowan didn't so much as glance Aedion's way before a wind snapped through the suite, slamming the bedroom door in Aedion's face.
Point taken.
-Aedion Ashryver
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“a little birdie told me”
and the bird in question was king rowan, terrasen’s biggest gossip
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I die for these soft, domestic moments...
I laughed in earnest, and squeezed his face as I pressed a swift kiss to his mouth. “Shameless flirt.” The warmth returned to his eyes at last. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ I kissed his bare neck, and he reached back to drag a finger down my cheek. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Rhys came over and handed me a hairpin. We worked in unison, pinning my hair into place. Rhys pinned a hard-to-reach section of my hair. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ He leaned down, nuzzling my throat. “Don’t you want to comfort your mate, who has missed you terribly these weeks?” I planted a hand on his face and pushed him back, scowling. “I want my mate to tell me where the hell he was. Then he can get his comfort.” Rhys nipped at my fingers, teeth snapping playfully. “Cruel, beautiful female.” ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ I studied the hand, the ravaged face. Such pain lingered there—and exhaustion. The face he never let anyone see. I pushed up onto my knees and kissed his cheek, his skin warm and soft beneath my mouth. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ So I wrote back, At least you make up for your shameless flirting by being one hell of a High Lord. He’d returned that evening, smirking like a cat, and had merely said “One hell of a High Lord?” by way of greeting. I’d sent a bucket’s worth of water splashing into his face. Rhys hadn’t bothered to shield against it. And instead shook his wet hair like a dog, spraying me until I yelped and darted away. His laughter had chased me up the stairs. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ A half smile that had me walking toward him, stopping between his legs. He braced his hands idly on my hips. He rested his brow against my chest, right between my breasts, and wrapped his arms around my waist. For a long minute, he only breathed in the scent of me, as if taking it deep into his lungs. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ “You look exhausted, that’s why.” He put a dramatic hand over his heart. “Your concern warms me more than any winter fire, my love.” I rolled my eyes and sat up. “Did you at least eat?” He shrugged, his dark shirt straining across his broad shoulders. “I’m fine.” His gaze slid over my bare legs as I pushed back the covers. Heat bloomed in me, but I shoved my feet into slippers. “I’ll get you food.” “I don’t want—” “When did you last eat?” A sullen silence. “I thought so.” I hauled a fleece-lined robe around my shoulders... “You don’t need to—” “I want to, and I’m going to.”... “Did you eat at all today?” “I had an apple this morning.” “Rhys.” He set down his fork, his mouth twitching toward a smile. “Feyre.” I crossed my arms. “No one is too busy to eat.” “You’re fussing.” “It’s my job to fuss. And besides, you fuss plenty. Over far more trivial things.” ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ “You look beautiful tonight.” His words were low, rough. I stroked a hand down the lap of my gown, the fabric shimmering beneath my fingers. “You say that every night.” “And mean it.” ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ His fingers threaded through my hair, tilting my face up. That wicked smile grew, and my toes curled in their boots. “There’s my darling Feyre.”
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baby wake up, new Rhysand art just dropped
🎨 by ignartcio
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this was beautiful 😭😭❤️
The Longest Night
A short glimpse into the lives of Rhysand and the Inner Circle on the Winter Solistice, 30 years into Rhys’s enslavement Under the Mountain.
For @officialfeysandweek Day 5: Fated
Inspired by one of my text posts from 2022
Word count: 1k
Read on AO3
-
It was the longest night of the year.
And, by any conventional standard, they had assembled the perfect Solstice dinner.
Someone had lovingly donned a woven table runner across the long dining table in the House of Wind. It's golden thread stood out starkly in the dim faelight, cutting across the dark blue fabric like streaks of lightning on a clear night. Cassian recognised the stitchwork. Its seamstress had threaded her needle through his own skin enough times, tenderly patching him up after long, brutal days in the Illyrian training camps.
His heart ached to stare at her handiwork for too long, so he averted his eyes elsewhere—to the pillars of candles, which rose among the countless platters of food, twining cinnamon and cypress with the scent of roasted meat and spices that was not overall unpleasant, just…
Unwelcome.
Not because Cassian minded the candles, or was ever one to turn away a hot meal. Particularly a spread as fine as the one before him, prepared by the best cooks in Velaris, who had dipped into the preserve of spices that were only saved for special occasions such as this.
No one could claim his discontent was the result of meager effort, or that this was a poor rendition of a Solstice Celebration.
He just couldn't summon any cheer as he snagged his fingers around the stem of his wine glass, watching the dark liquid swirl as he twisted it this way and that. It almost felt like mockery to drink wine, of all things.
Not that he would say such a thing to Mor, who was decanting the final drops of her glass into her mouth. They hadn't started dinner yet, but he couldn't blame her. Instead, Cassian wordlessly slid his glass across the table, wedging it between the fingers of Mor's rested hand, where it splayed nostalgically across the table runner.
When Mor offered him a small, grateful nod, he pushed to his feet. He needed something stronger, anyhow.
Who's idea was this, again?
As he began pouring himself a drink from the decanters at the sideboard, Cassian glanced over his shoulder. His friends were all seated at the dining table, staring mutely at their food or at their drinks. None of them were speaking.
It was a nice attempt, he thought, taking a large swallow and grunting at the heat that spread through him. He felt it burn down his chest and settle heavily in his gut—strong stuff, though he hadn't a clue what it was and didn't think anyone was in the mood to tell him.
Rhys would have known.
That thought slid in like a dagger. Lingered, as Cassian's eyes drifted unbidden to the head of the table.
A place had been set there. A knife and fork and freshly polished plate, waiting patiently beside a full glass of red wine.
But the chair was empty. Just as it had remained for the last 30 years. And no one would be coming to claim it.
For a moment, he considered dashing his drink against the prestine fucking floor and diving out the nearest window to escape this facade they were putting on, as if everything were normal. As if there was anything worth celebrating.
The only thing that subdued the impulse was the sight of Mor's trembling lip as she, too, slanted her gaze to the head of the table. And when that tremble split into a soft keening sound, it was Cassian's heart that shattered on the floor, not his drink.
"Sorry," Mor sniffed, darting her eyes to the faelight overhead as she dabbed at tears and smeared khol with the tips of her fingers. "I know we said no crying—"
"We never said that," Cassian said, sliding back into his seat.
Azriel cast an assessing eye over the admittedly generous pour Cassian was bracing in his fist, but Az reserved his commentary.
"I told myself no crying," Mor acquiesced with another sniff. "I thought 30 years would be enough time for it to not feel so… so…"
Raw, Cassian thought. Mor shrugged without concluding the thought and if anyone else mentally filled in the rest, they didn't volunteer it.
At least until they fell back into silence, and Azriel glanced towards the head of the table and rasped, "Empty."
Empty. Like Rhysand's seat, and his throne, and his bedroom.
Like the training ring in the mornings, when there was no buffer between Azriel's bouts of silence and the static in Cassian's head.
Like the bi-monthly meetings with the people of Velaris, where he watched Amren and Mor act as steward to their people's hardships and concerns, which grew more pressing each year.
Like the market squares in the city center, which were once flush with traders and merchants who were now blocked from entering or exiting the city, stranding them all in this crowded, isolated place.
Or like every aching moment over the last 30 years where Cassian glanced over his shoulder after making some smart comment, expecting to see the smug, if not exasperated, smile of his friend. His brother.
And finding nothing. A ghost of a memory, at most.
Yeah, empty was a good word for it.
-
It was the longest night of the year.
Not that Rhys would know. He spent it inside, between Amarantha's legs. Hardly given a moment to consider the time of year, or how his friends might be celebrating without him.
Amarantha told him, of course. She wanted him to know what she was taking away from him, even as he pretended that he didn't care. What interest did a Dark Lord have in petty little festivities?
Rhys didn't usually invite thoughts of his friends into Amarantha's bedroom—for his own sake, he tried to keep those parts of his life firmly compartmentalized.
But he did take a moment to send a plea to the stars he couldn't see: that his friends were okay, that they could forgive him, that they were happy.
And if the stars could offer leniency to a male who hadn't gazed upon them in years, if they had the capacity to perceive his actions with pity instead of scorn, then he saved a risidual wish for himself:
That this eternal Hell would end before he found a way to end it himself.
-
It was the longest night of year.
Unbeknownst to all of them, across Prythian, in the Mortal Realm, a human girl was born.
As if the stars had listened.
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i got married this weekend and saw this notification and i’m telling myself it was a wedding gift!!!!! UGH i love them so much
little bean and papa bean are the cutest nicknames ever.
pls pls pls let the reveal go well 😭😭 i don’t even wanna know the shit that’ll go down if rowan finds out from someone elseeeeeee
Look at Us Now - ch. 28
Fic masterlist
Not me disappearing and coming back with angst
Warnings: you might be mad at me by the end of this chapter
Words: 3,8k
There was a lot of gross things that, as a mother, Aelin was willing to do, but gift-wrapping a peed stick for her boyfriend wasn’t one of them.
Instead, Aelin texted Rowan asking him to pick Maisie up alone. After work, she went straight to get her pregnancy confirmed with some blood work that’d be done tomorrow, then went to the mall to find a cute envelope to put the test in.
Aelin was supposed to go straight home after, but she got sidetracked by the baby stores. Sue her.
Though it was getting pretty late. So late she had to pause the onesie window-shopping because her phone started pinging with Rowan’s texts.
>> Baby
>> Working late today?
>> I’m cleaning my closet for when you decide to bring your things
>> I made soup for dinner
>> Maisie and Fleetfoot are sleeping
>> And my cock is already hard for you
>> Don’t make me miss you too much
His texts brought a smile to her lips. Torn between her promise to stop lying to him and the truth potentially ruining her plans, Aelin decided she’d just not say anything to him—only when it was time.
Her reply began with a devilish grinning emoji.
<< Or else?
<< I’ll be home soon
<< Buzzard
<< Love you
She put her phone away, not knowing the cause for the quiver in her stomach—something between morning sickness, being too in love and nausea from antidepressant withdrawal, now that she had to switch her medication to something more pregnancy-friendly.
Aelin wanted to suspend all her medication for the baby’s sake, but Dr. Blackbeak advised her against it—and was unkind enough to remind her about what happened when she last did it.
Her history with postpartum depression, the main reason she was freaking out about this pregnancy. She’d always wanted this second baby—now or later, surprise or planned—but as much as it didn’t change the outcome, it also didn’t change how anxious she felt about it.
Being a second-time mom, people would think Aelin wasn’t scared. Truth was, she was fucking terrified. Even more so than in her first pregnancy.
This wasn’t the cold rush in the pit of Aelin’s belly, making a mother-to-be wonder about how her new journey would be. This was the sheer dread of a woman who went to hell and back not a very long time ago.
Aelin took a deep breath, clutching the little onesie for dear life as if it’d steady her. She let herself sniff it because it smelled like babies, rainbows and unicorns, then blinked back a few tears because pregnancy hormones and the moodiness from antidepressant withdrawal weren’t a good combo.
Morning sickness made her dehydrated enough. The last thing Aelin needed was to cry like a baby at the mall.
When the timer went off a few days ago and Aelin saw two lines on the pregnancy test, she shrieked with joy. Her chest inflated like a balloon, overcome with the most exquisite feeling, and then memories of a tiny, breakable Maisie flooded her thoughts. That’s when her smile died down.
She remembered her daughter’s cute nursery, and how Rowan would shout at her when he visited because he was over-sanitizing everything Maisie came near, but Aelin would rather kill herself than get out of bed to pick up a broom.
She remembered dizziness and black spots in her vision because Aelin wasn’t eating as much as a nursing mother should.
She remembered wondering how well-off Maisie would be with just Rowan, and remembered toughening up and shaking these thoughts off because growing up without her own mom sucked.
She remembered not remembering Maisie’s first year like a proper mom would, because her faulty brain deemed it safer to erase it than allow Aelin to relieve it in any way.
Still, she could do this again. She would do this again.
And while Aelin had no certainty over how having a newborn baby again would look like, she knew the outcome would be better if she allowed herself to rely on Rowan.
Aelin was self-sufficient enough to not really need anyone, but she also could admit that Rowan had a skill-set that complimented hers. They made a good team. Therefore, though Aelin didn’t need him, she was ready to allow herself to.
And right now, she could really use his restorative cuddles or the meals he’d prep when she was pregnant with Maisie. Everything at the hospital cafeteria made her stomach riot, so Aelin had a bag of IV fluids for lunch, after she felt ill at the end of a 6-hour surgery. Rowan would freak the fuck out if he knew.
But then she saw a White Hawks onesie, and every worry flew out the window for a moment. It was one of the first things he bought for Maisie, and even today, he got her a new jersey every time she outgrew one.
She took one off the rack and smiled. This wasn’t the original plan, but the envelope with the beta hCG test was definitely coming with a gift attached now.
˜˜
“Again?” Sorscha, the hospital’s pharmacist, frowned at Aelin’s request.
“What do you mean, again?”
“I heard you came here asking for the same thing earlier today.”
Fucking hospital gossip.
On the way home, Aelin had to pull over and ended up retching inside one of her shopping bags—but had the time to get the onesie out before she made its bag unsalvageable—so she decided to do a quick detour back to work and surreptitiously snatch a bag of IV fluids.
It didn’t take a PhD to know that intravenous medication was more effective than tablets, and Aelin happened to have easy access to it and a medical degree to take care of herself.
But now Sorscha’s unwillingness to help was kinda ruining her plans.
The pharmacist continued, “Did you see a physician before coming here?”
Absolutely not. If Aelin told a single soul inside this hospital about her pregnancy, there was a chance someone might congratulate Rowan about it before she did it herself.
Instead, Aelin said, “I am the physician.”
“Really? You broke a bone so bad you need anti-nausea and B1?”
Aelin crossed her arms, shooting daggers at Sorscha. What was even her point here?
Still, she pressed on, “Does Captain Whitethorn know you’re here?”
“That is none of your business,” Aelin said slowly, her tone and glare hard as steel. “I came here for saline, electrolytes, glucose, vitamins and ondansetron; not relationship advice. Can I have the fluids or not?”
Sorscha’s jaw worked, her tiny frame now filled with anger. Aelin didn’t mean to be a jerk, but the woman crossed a line by mentioning her boyfriend.
“Sorry, Doc. I only take orders from physicians when they’re on call,” the pharmacist said before turning her back on Aelin and leaving her alone in the hallway.
Aelin walked about two halls and found chairs by the administrative area, and texted her resident.
<< Nox
<< Who’s on call tonight?
Thank Mala her response came fast.
>> Bas and I
>> Need anything?
<< No you’re not
<< You just pulled a 24h shift
<< Tonight you’re getting a good night’s sleep for Mr. Faliq’s carpal tunnel fix.
<< Come by Yellowlegs’ office so I can scold you in person
Aelin tucked her phone back inside her purse—she didn’t need to wait for a reply, he’d be here.
In the meantime, she self-soothed the discomfort in her throat and stomach with deep breaths while she didn’t have her IV, and thought of what the hell she’d tell Rowan when she got home, now that it was after ten and she wasn’t ready to tell him about the baby yet.
If Rowan knew that she: (1) was at the hospital because her (2) pregnancy symptoms were overlapping with the (3) antidepressant withdrawal, so she was (4) throwing up so much it was hard to keep food inside while also (5) freaking out because Baby #2 could potentially wreck years of progress Aelin has put into her mental heath ever since Maisie was born…
It was safe to say that Aelin wasn’t eager to put all cards on the table for him right now.
Rowan will find a million things to worry about, whether they’re an actual concern or not. And if she does give him something to be concerned about… nope. Not happening. Aelin needed to get at least part of her shit together before he went all dadzilla on her.
On the other hand, she needed him. Also, Rowan might freak out, but she couldn’t lie just to shield him from a problem that regarded both of them, as a couple.
But hurried footsteps announced her resident’s arrival, so Aelin tucked those problems away for her near-future self.
“Hey, Doc!” Nox shouted, running her way. “Just finished the night round. What’s up?”
“Just feeling a bit under the weather.” She waved him off before he decided to doctor her. “Nothing much. Sorscha won’t give me an IV because I’m not on call, can you get one for me?”
“Again?” He asked, mentioning her mid-surgery break earlier today. “Are you sick?”
“Not sick enough to let you fix Mr. Faliq’s wrist unsupervised, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He raised his brows and had his palms facing up and tried to clarify, “That’s not—“
“And I’m not trusting that wrist with a sleep-deprived resident.” She circled a finger in the general direction of his bloodshot eyes. “You better be looking sharp and ready at the OR tomorrow, Dr. Owen.”
He pointed at the bags under his eyes. “I think these will take a lot more than one night to fade away, Doc.”
Aelin humphed and quickly scribbled down the components she needed for her fluids. Truth was, she liked Nox. Being older than the average resident—older than her, even—he was fun company, but not a buffoon like some of her students. As an attending surgeon, she needed to give him a hard time sometimes to establish dominance, but Aelin could easily see herself befriending him once they were equals in the surgery food chain.
She handed him the note. “Would you get these at the pharmacy and find me at the observation room?”
He nodded and scanned the note. “Sure, and about tomorrow—wait. I know this. My sister would take it when she was—” Nox’s pulled down eyebrows went impossibly up as his eyes widened. He cleared his throat and schooled his face into neutrality. “But that’s none of my business, is it?”
“Good call,” Aelin said, and tilted her chin to the general direction of the pharmacy. “Now go.”
˜˜
“Are you sure you can drive like this? I don’t mind staying longer,” Nox said at the observation room, right after he didn’t let Aelin stab the IV needle into herself.
There was a 50/50 chance he was sucking up to her to get more surgeries, but it wasn’t bothering her as much as it would on a regular day.
“It’s a five-minute drive,” she reminded him. It went without saying that Aelin lived at the Air Force gated community, most doctors here did.
He hummed, still checking everything before he left. “And you’re alone with Little Bean tonight?”
“Nope.” She leaned back on the recliner chair, biting back a smile. “Papa Bean and I moved in together. Now I can be sick without worrying about Little Bean.” She wiggled her eyebrows, gloating about this newfound small luxury.
Not that she didn’t have help per se but, a year ago, Aelin would rather overdose on painkillers than ask Rowan for help.
Before she could continue conversation with Nox, a figure oddly similar to Papa Bean himself showed up in her peripheral vision.
She saw him before he saw her. Nox closed the partitions that separated her from the other patients, but not the one that faced the corridor—which allowed her to see Rowan’s back as he talked to a nurse at another part of the room.
Why on earth was he here? This wasn’t protocol. Aelin wasn’t injured in a way that made the staff make calls—hell, she wasn’t even officially a patient, she pretty much made her resident smuggle some fluids and medicated herself here.
She glared at Nox, but he looked just as confused. By the way he was coddling her, Aelin doubted he’d call Rowan behind her back. Which led to one other suspect.
When Rowan found her and his features relaxed in relief, all murderous thoughts about Sorscha vanished.
“Gods, Aelin.” He sighed, then hurried to her chair and cradled her head to his chest, ducking his face into the top of her head as if in this moment he wanted to embrace her with every inch of his body. “What happened?”
The snap of Nox’s gloves as he threw them away caught her attention before she could reply. “I should go. See you around, Doc.” He nodded at Rowan. “Captain.”
Rowan briefly thanked him for assisting Aelin, closed the last partition to give them some privacy and brought a chair closer to hers. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing much. I just felt a bit under the weather and stopped by to get some fluids. Do you remember who notified you about me being here? That’s not protocol.”
He blinked. His gaze slowly hardened until his jaw worked, and that’s how Aelin realized it was the wrong thing to say.
“A friend of Aedion’s that works here told him and asked if you’re okay, and then he called me asking if you’re okay.”
Fucking hospital gossip.
Rowan quirked a brow up and crossed his arms, waiting her to say something, which she didn’t, so he continued, “Now, imagine how I felt when I didn’t know if you’re okay or why you’re in the hospital, because you completely disappeared on me all evening—“
Aelin opened her mouth to speak, but Rowan held a finger up to signal that he wasn’t finished, in a way annoyingly similar to the one he used with Maisie. “And, after I made Aedion run to our house to watch Maisie and drove like a maniac here, imagine how I felt when I find you hanging out with your resident, right next to your phone, just not feeling in the mood to tell me you’re in the goddamn hospital?!” His voice got harsher and uneven in the end, an indicator that he was trying to keep it down given their surroundings.
Knowing her boyfriend, she could imagine very well. It wasn’t pretty but, in her defense, the hospital visit was completely unplanned and part of some news he wasn’t supposed to know yet.
Aelin nodded, her demeanor serious but not chastened. “I understand this isn’t ideal—“
“Ideal?”
A sigh. “I understand you’re pissy, then.”
“No, pissy doesn’t cover a fraction of it. The entire evening, where were you?”
“I had things to do.”
“And I suppose you’re not going to tell me until you want to?”
Aelin didn’t reply, and she was relieved when he kept quiet as well. If she was going through an inquisition, it was better to do it at home, away from prying ears. Besides, she was almost done with the IV.
As they waited to go home, Rowan’s face—along with the crossed arms and brooding aura—spoke volumes. And while she understood why he was upset with her, whatever Rowan wanted to know, he could wait until the pregnancy reveal tomorrow. Aelin was so not spilling everything now at the worst moment ever.
Baby #1 revealed in jail and Baby #2 at the ER. Mala help Baby #3 if they keep this shit up.
But then an inkling of why he might be this upset hit her, along with memories of her and Nox hanging out when he arrived. This sounds like such a silly concern.
Just like co-parenting a child with him meant dealing with millions of silly concerns that took over his days.
Shit.
Aelin wished she had the self-control to stand the weird vibe, but she didn’t. Without letting Rowan notice, she took off her own needle and disposed what was left of the fluids before she had finished it. She did take enough to get through the night, which was her goal.
Once they were in the parking lot, she broke their silence.
“I was alone—the whole time. If that’s what you’re worried about.”
Rowan cast her a sideways glance of poorly-concealed disapproval, as his steps towards the car didn’t falter. His jaw worked.
“I never doubted your fidelity, Aelin. Knowing you, I’d be less worried if that was the case—at least I’d know what the fuck you’re up to.”
Aelin reared back, his words hitting her like a blow.
“You don’t mean that.”
Rowan got inside the car without sparing her a glance, but she followed suit, undeterred. Sat on the passenger seat and decided to spill every part he needed to know at the moment without waiting for his reaction.
“I had a long day at work and needed to clear my head, so I went to the mall.” Not a lie. “Then I threw up on the way home and stopped by the hospital for some anti-nausea medication. Dr. Blackbeak changed my antidepressant, I’ll have withdrawal symptoms for the next few weeks.”
Among other causes for nausea.
“You didn’t tell me—about any of it.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“You went to Dr. Blackbeak almost two days ago, Aelin.”
Rowan’s speed wasn’t nausea-friendly, and he must be really pissed off to forget about his safety-first driving style.
“Well, you know—“
“Why did she change your medication?”
“I’m not the shrink, am I?”
His sharp turn brought a taste of bile to her throat. Shit, couldn’t he give time for her meds to work before driving this unhinged?
Rowan stopped at a red light, then rested his head against the steering wheel—more like banged his head against it, but the quick horn didn’t have many cars to disturb at this late hour.
With a heartbreaking waver to his voice that tugged at her heartstrings, he said, “I’m trying so fucking hard to be understanding, to be a better partner, to be someone you deserve, but I can’t be that to you if you won’t let me.”
Guilt. Aelin closed her eyes to take some deep breaths for her rebellious stomach, letting the raw emotion of his statement wash away the confidence about the way she acted tonight. Flashes of Rowan’s worried glances and tentative conversations about Aelin’s mood he started with her the past weeks came to mind.
It was only then that Aelin realized Rowan noticed every symptom of her pregnancy—the fatigue, mood swings, change in appetite—before she did herself. He just assumed she was having a depressive episode instead.
He saw all the signs and decided she was depressed instead of carrying his baby. The Buzzard.
Aelin never lied to him about Maisie or things she deemed important for him to know, but she did lie to him about her mental health. Repeatedly. Over the course of six years. This being the main reason that broke them apart.
Knowing this, she could see more clearly the reason behind his outburst.
Aelin slowly reached his shoulder and caressed it with her thumb. “Baby, I’m fine. You have nothing to worry about.”
Lies, lies, lies. Almost—but she wasn’t telling him whole thing now.
The light turned green and he picked up speed, to her stomach’s chagrin.
“Aelin, that’s not how ma—how a relationship works. You can’t let me know about shit like this only when it’s convenient for you, and I thought we were over this.”
Cold sweat broke on Aelin’s skin, and she felt lucky she could process what he said over the lightheadedness.
“I know, baby. And you’re the first person I go to, always. But sometimes I feel more comfortable sorting things out on my own first.”
Rowan let out a bitter chuckle. “Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen? Me freaking out because someone else told me you’re at the hospital?”
With breaths too shallow, her mouth flooded with saliva and made her jaw clench.
“Stop the car.”
“What?” Rowan asked, confused.
“Stop the car,” she repeated with no energy to shout, which he complied—too abruptly.
Aelin practically jumped off the car once it stopped and knelt on the grass of their gated community, trying to take deep breaths as her diaphragm contracted itself, preparing her for what was to come.
Her boyfriend quickly circled the car and crouched next to her. His trademark frown was frownier than ever. “What’s going on?”
“I just. Took. Nausea shit,” she managed to say, still breathless. “Could you not drive like a maniac?”
“Fuck. I’m so sorry, baby.” He held her hair. “All this from the medication withdrawal?”
Aelin couldn’t answer even if she wanted to, given her current state. A moment or two later she sat—more like slumped—on the grass, potentially ruining her jeans, feeling glad that there was a lot of dry heaving, but she didn’t throw up. Thank you, modern medicine.
She knew she had to address what Rowan said tonight, but it must be nearing midnight, Aelin had surgery first thing in the morning, and she was so incredibly tired.
An entire day’s worth of fatigue crashed down on her, just as much as her pride vanished. She didn’t bother trying to hide any of it from Rowan anymore, who watched her with hawk-like attention.
“Can we fight later?” Aelin said with a pleading look.
“Of course, baby.” Rowan scooped her up from the floor and effortlessly sat her on the passenger seat with the seatbelt on.
Aelin never thought she’d ever enjoy being coddled like this, but she’s had a rough day, and she needs her person.
Back in the driver’s seat, Rowan gave her a once-over before turning the car on, but Aelin stopped him once more. They’d get home to Aedion demanding answers, then crash and wake up to Maisie being loud in the morning and a whole day of work. Some things needed to be said first, so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.
“I just want you to know that I know that what happened was very uncool of me. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll get over it.” He gave her a watery smile. “Do you wanna talk about it just the two of us, or should I book an appointment with Yrene?”
Aelin wrinkled her nose, playfully discarding the idea of an early trip to the family therapist’s office. “Just us.”
“Whatever you need.”
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i love these so much
Letters Never Sent, Letter II
Read on Ao3 // Feysand Week Masterlist // Letters Never Sent Masterlist
The second letter in the Letters Never Sent series I created for @officialfeysandweek.
It has been typed out below the cut.
My Darling Mate,
Your words echo in my mind. Across the centuries I’ve seen every kind of horror you can imagine, physical and mental, anguish unmatched. None of those scars match the knowledge I gained today.
I warned you against lies, so the secret you confessed must be true. To think I could have lost you to your own hand before any enemy’s. I would not blame you, but I would have grieved your loss for an eternity, my Feyre.
Your trust in me is still so fragile, I fear I will be the one to push you to flight, but I need to see you will be well. I need to see that you will let yourself be loved, as a friend and as a female, even if it is not me you choose in the end. Just let me see you healed from the pain that still plagues you.
If I can never be your mate, let me ever so briefly be your shelter, and let me always be your friend, Feyre darling. I couldn’t bear for you to stare into that darkness again.
Forever Yours,
Rhysand
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Letters Never Sent, Letter I
Read on Ao3 // Feysand Week Masterlist // Letters Never Sent Masterlist
Kicking off @officialfeysandweek with the first submission from a series of short letters Rhys wrote before the mating bond was accepted.
None of the letters were written with the intention of matching prompts, just a fun little thing.
If the font is difficult to read, I have it typed out below the cut as well.
My Darling Mate,
It’s been three months since we said goodbye on that balcony. Three months I’ve spent trying to convince myself to leave you to live out your life in Spring. To turn my back and put you from my mind.
But this longing is not so simple as the wanting of lust or desire. Yearning is not a fixation one can outgrow with time and distraction. It is a flame—great, wild, and all consuming. A more literal fire will claim these words before I could consider burdening you with them.
Better for us both, of course. Tomorrow you’ll be wed. First a lover, now wife to my enemy. For the first time in centuries I envy Tamlin. He does not deserve the devotion you give him so readily. Then again, my hands are just as bloody. I have to wonder if any male above the wall could truly earn the love of your human heart, my Feyre.
Haunted as it may be, there is nothing I wouldn’t give to have the chance.
Forever Yours,
Rhysand
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