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mariaofdoranelle · 1 year

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Look at Us Now - Ch. 1

Fic masterlist

Oh, hi, guys! Welcome to my new hyper fixation!! *fireworks* *champagne glasses* *me smiling like a maniac*

I really hope you like this new au! My other ones are still in progress, I’m just really excited about this lol

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking, mentions of sketchy cigars, mentions of a fistfight, mentions of a sprained ankle, promises of smutty times

Words: 3,3k

This party was falling apart. Literally.

Uncle Orlon thought it was a good idea to bring Aelin to this year's Aviator's Ball, so she could meet her future bosses with a little less pressure. At first, it was all fancy uniforms, expensive drinks and small talk. Now that it was past midnight, some of the older officers with the highest ranks had left—Like Orlon and Darrow—, a drunk major knocked down a massive flower arrangement, and the guy Aelin was flirting with had offered her a very sketchy-looking cigar, which she politely declined.

When two lieutenants started a fistfight, Aelin knew it was time to go.

She speed walked through the crowd of people, and even bumped her shoulder against the party planner's, who was going toward the brawl. The poor girl.

When she finally stepped outside, it felt like she could finally breathe.

"Staying out of trouble?" A deep voice asked her. Aelin looked around until she found an officer leaning on the side of the stairs that led to the garden. With his face lit up by the moonlight and eyes sparkling as they studied each other, he was breathtaking. Or at least that was Aelin's first thought when she saw him.

Aelin walked towards him. Staying out of trouble was Uncle Orlon's only request, but she also didn't want to look bad in front of her future bosses and future coworkers. That sounded like a suicide mission.

"Seems like that's what you're doing."

The hot officer chuckled. "Turns out being locked up becomes really easy when you're in the military. Specially when you make yourself some unruly friends."

"Have you ever been to the guardhouse?"

"Fuck, no."

She leaned against the wall on his side and shook his hand. "I'm Aelin."

"Rowan."

Turning fully towards him, she flipped her hair back a little to expose her shoulders and cleavage. "It's really hot in here, isn't it?"

Rowan got sidetracked by her exposed skin for a millisecond, then his eyes snapped back to hers. "You think so?"

"I know so, and I think it's because of—"

"Global warming, I know. God, this city gets hotter each year."

"What?"

He tilted his head. "You don't agree? This city's weather is hell."

Aelin clamped her lips together and tried not to laugh, even though her shoulders were shaking already. "I was going to land a pickup line, Rowan."

"Oh." He blushed, and it was the most adorable thing. "I thought we were talking about carbon monoxide."

Aelin chuckled. "Well, you ruined my pickup line now."

"My roommate teaches me a lot of those, but I won't use them."

"Why?"

Rowan leaned sideways on the wall and smirked. "Because I'm not trying to pick you up, I'm feeling like pinning you down instead."

She looked up, gaping. Aelin could kill that blunt, sassy grin of his. Or kiss it. God, she really wanted to kiss him now. Since he noticed her minutes ago, actually.

It was beautiful, how that smirk melted as his eyes darkened. The fabric of his uniform under her fingertips and Aelin's hands going up until they reached the lapels and clenched.

With both hands on her waist, Rowan was already one breath away from her when he closed their lips together with small, tentative brushes. At least until Aelin closed her arms around his neck and almost crushed their faces together, deepening the kiss.

His hands were everywhere. Her hips, her waist, toying with the straps of her dress. All that clashing and flicking and grabbing was making her heartbeat go wild. When it became too much, Rowan grabbed her upper arms and mentioned to lean away, but Aelin gently bit his lower lip to stop him.

Stay here, she conveyed.

He gave her small, gentle kisses and rested his forehead against hers, both heavily breathing against each other.

"You're not someone's wife, right?"

"What?" she breathed. Aelin's mind was still foggy from the kiss, she must've heard the wrong thing.

He swallowed and slid his hand down her arms, squeezing her fingers at the end. "That's why Fenrys got into a fistfight at the party. He made out with another officer's wife."

Aelin leaned away to properly look at his face, trying to understand what was going on. First, who the hell is Fenrys? Second, did he just stop their kiss to ask if she was married? Because he was avoiding a fistfight?

She sighed. You know what, that was fair.

Shaking her head, Aelin wiggled all her ringless fingers.

His eyes assessed her lack of uniform. "Someone's daughter, then. I think that's even worse."

A troublesome smirk was her only answer. Well, she was someone's great-niece, but it became almost the same if she considered Orlon raised Aelin since she was eight.

Looking up, Rowan cursed under his breath. Probably calculating his chances of being punished for this if her date—Brigadier Galathynius, not that he knew it—discovered. Proving her theory right, he asked, "They outrank me, right?"

Aelin raised her eyebrows. "You want to fuck me or not?"

"What?" His eyes widened, then he flinched. "Fuck, sorry, babe." He trailed kisses from her jaw to her lips, tugging her closer by the waist.

She hummed. That was much better.

"Do you want to leave before this party burns itself to the ground?" He whispered in her ear.

She chuckled. "Sure."

They were silently walking wherever he was leading her. One-night stands were so awkward sometimes, but Aelin was feeling good about this one. There was something comforting about Rowan, but she was failing to point what exactly. At one point, their hands accidentally grazed, but he kept them there and slowly intertwined their fingers.

Aelin hid a grimace when she saw his car, though. "I live in the village." She pointed in the direction of one of the military villages they had close by. "We can go by foot."

"You think I'd drink in front of all my bosses?"

He had a good point. It seemed like he was the only officer who cared, though. She had no idea how he understood her concerns so quickly, but Aelin didn't want to think too hard on this.

"I thought you should know I just moved in and my house is... lacking." He scratched the back of his head. "If you don't mind."

"Oh." She tilted her head. "We can go to my place, if you think that's better."

His shoulders dropped in relief. "You're sure it won't cause trouble?"

"I know my way around those security cameras." Aelin waved him off and leaned her side on his car. "But I still need to know what's lacking in your house."

Rowan's cheeks went crimson in a heartbeat. "I have a bed, it just hasn't arrived yet."

Aelin started cackling, her body trembling with laughter as he stared at her with the corners of his lips tugging up.

"I physically have a matteress, though!" He yelled over her laughter and opened the car, "And a great wall."

Things got quieter inside the car, so it was Aelin's cue to update her boyfriend, who was a little back and forth between Doranelle and Rifthold these days. He never told her about his one-night stands, which she didn't mind, but it felt wrong to sleep with someone without telling him.

Aelin: found myself a hot officer for the night

Aelin: we're going to my place

Dorian: how hot is he

Aelin: 8,5 maybe?

Such a horrendous lie. Aelin never graded her boy toys above 9 because she felt better if only her actual boyfriend was a 10. Truth was, if Dorian is a 10, Rowan is at least a 12. Actually, he was so handsome it made a lot of sense grading him above maximum score.

Dorian: nice

Dorian: have fun babe x

Rowan cleared his throat when they arrived at the village. Quickly tucking her phone back inside her purse, Aelin gave the directions of her house and made him park two houses before.

They silently walked together, until she stopped him on the border between her house and the neighbor's.

"I'm assuming you don't want to get caught by the cameras, since you're so scared of my uncle."

His eyes sparkled now that she satisfied his curiosity. Or maybe made it worse. There was no way to know. "An uncle, then." Rowan raised his eyebrows. "I'm not scared of him, but it would be nice if you could assure me he won't put me in the guardhouse for this."

Aelin snorted. Orlon couldn't hurt a fly if he wanted to, and even Darrow was a huge softie inside. But just the thought of sneaking out a little with her hot officer sent a thrill down her spine, so she kept her mouth shut.

"This wall we're in, it's a blind spot." When Aelin looked at Rowan, he was the most focused she'd seen tonight. An airman ready for battle. "We'll follow that path until we reach the porch, then we climb on the first window. It's my cousin's room, but he doesn't live here anymore. Then I'll check if the coast is clear, and my room is the one right next to it. Got it?"

Rowan nodded, eyes still calculating their path.

"It's the only way to get inside without getting caught on camera," Aelin added.

"This sounds like my training."

Aelin made eye contact, her chest a little more thrusted out than before. "Is the reward as good?"

"Not really, no," he muttered, his eyes on her lips.

"Well, you'll have to work for it, Officer," she said before tugging his arm towards the low fence they needed to climb.

From the moment Aelin decided she wanted to become a doctor, she knew she'd work at the Air Force General Hospital.

This was the place she came to get her first casket when she was nine, after falling from her rollerskates. The place Aelin reached for when she got a little too drunk at seventeen, and made Aedion flirt with the doctor so she wouldn't snitch on them to Uncle Orlon. She was comfortable there. It felt familiar.

During those early daydreams about her own life, Aelin never thought about the moments she'd wish she worked somewhere else, though. They were nothing more than fleeting thoughts, she loved her job. But they still happened on days like this.

When Aelin opened the X-ray images on her computer, the boy's ankle didn't seem to be broken. One small blessing.

His eyes went wide when she told him so. "But it feels like it is."

Aelin gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's just a sprain, but I'll prescribe you some painkillers and—"

"Good, now we can go back to training," his instructor interrupted.

A death glare was Aelin's only response before she continued, "And I need you to rest that feet for two days—"

"Absolutely not!" The unwanted instructor cut in again, making the boy freeze on his seat. "What's the point of painkillers if he can't even exercise?"

"Captain Whitethorn," she hissed, "I believe I am the doctor here."

He slowly turned to that terrified boy. "Do you mind giving the doctor and I a moment to speak?"

"No." Aelin got up before he could. "Captain Whitethorn and I can talk in another room." She pointed at his swollen ankle. "You rest that feet."

Rowan followed her to an empty room two doors down, and they closed the door, it was like... It was like every other day, actually.

"You." He pointed a finger at her. "Do not question my authority in front of my students, Lieutenant."

"And you." She pointed a finger back. "Do not question my authorithy as a doctor in front of my patients, asshole."

"I was not trying to—"

"Yes, you were!" Aelin screamed this time. "Every day, you question what, when, how—"

"Well, maybe I wouldn't need to question if you just—"

"If I just what?" She opened her arms, tired of this. "If I just acted exactly like you?"

Rowan just stared at her with that intense look of his.

Aelin took a deep breath. She wouldn't put sense in Rowan's head by screaming. She never did.

"Luca—"

He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? You're trying to guilt trip me by using his first name?"

"It's his first week here, and he's already in the hospital, Rowan! He's a teenage boy! He's someone's kid!" Aelin yelled, her tone increasing with each argument.

"Don't you even think about mentioning my daughter! He's the one who enlisted. I'm just doing my job."

She sighed. "I know you are, but your teaching techniques..."

He scoffed. "Don't act like you didn't love my teaching techniques back then."

"Fuck you!"

There were two loud bangs in the door before Aelin's tiniest, angriest co-worker barged in.

"You two." Elide's finger darted between them before she continued. "Seriously? Again?"

Rowan didn't dare point out that he was being talked down by someone with a lower rank than his. He knew better than to argue with Elide.

She continued, "I'm going to discharge your patient, and you two are leaving. Now."

Aelin looked at her watch. Fuck, they needed to rush if they didn't want to be late.

She turned to Rowan. "I'll be in the car in 5." And stopped. Aelin slowly turned to Elide and said, "Tell the patient that Captain Whitethorn told him to go home and come back in two days."

Rowan clenched his jaw, arms already crossed, but said nothing. He knew he had no chance with Aelin and Elide together.

The drive was pretty silent after that, but not exactly comfortable. She knew their fight hadn't ended yet, but it had to for now. They needed to look composed for this.

They heard the deafening sound of children screaming before the car could park at the Air Force school, made specially for the children of the Air Force personnel. It wasn't one of those fancy Montessori schools with hyper-specialized teachers, but it was a good school right next to the village they lived in. It was the best choice for them.

Rowan didn't think so. And he always let her know that, from big arguments to the classic arms-crossed-and-narrowed-eyes thing he was doing now.

She wouldn’t acknowledge his dissatisfaction now, though. They walked together until the pre-K area, which was separated from the big kids', and it took no time at all until a soft set of limbs wrapped themselves around her legs.

Aelin crouched down to talk to her daughter and adjust that messy hair, taking it out of the front of her gorgeous deep green eyes, when Maisie's jaw fell. And she shrieked.

"DADDY!" Was the only thing she screamed before jumping on Rowan's arms, always ready to catch her. "You said you couldn't pick me up today."

Maisie's hair was completely her own, Aelin noticed as her daughter had her back turned at her, on her dad's arms. Not as pale as Rowan's, not as golden as Aelin's. She had Aelin's nose but, apart from that, Maisie looked like a small Rowan Whithethorn with chubby cheeks.

She was just waiting for her face to be right next to his and... yep, there it is. Copy, paste, add childish features. Genetics sounded a lot simpler than what she studied in college while looking at those two.

Rowan was spinning her around, and Mai's squeals of delight were almost deafning. For the first time since seeing Rowan today, Aelin felt like smiling.

They had conflicts, yes, but Aelin couldn't deny that he was a great dad. She had never resented Rowan for being the parent with the stronger genes, or Maisie for being so much like her father. On the contrary. She even thought it was cute, especially when she saw her daughter's little frown or her shy demeanor with strangers. Maisie's a Whitethorn through and through, or so Rowan's family point out every time they meet.

"How was your day, hun?" Aelin asked on the walk back to the car while brushing her little girl's hair back with her hand.

"I got the littlest, babiest grapes today." She stopped in the middle of the parking lot and opened the lunchbox. "Look!"

Inspecting it, Aelin noticed Maisie's littlest, babiest grapes looked like a car ran them over. "What happened to them?"

She took the lunchbox back and frowned. "I don't know. I slept with them at nap time to protect them, but it didn't work out."

Aelin's lips were clamped together, trying hard not to laugh. That little girl probably squished the poor grapes to death. Rowan seemed to think the same, from the way the corners of his lips were tugging up. Noticing Aelin's stare, he gave her a small smile while ruffling their daughter's hair. She quickly looked away.

They never picked her up together when Maisie was in daycare, but they were doing it as an encouragement now that she was still adapting to preschool.

She always missed one parent while in another's house, even if she spent no more than three days in each house and had daily goodnight calls. Every morning was a different meltdown because she says she doesn't like school, so promising Maisie that both parents would pick her up was a good way to stop a tantrum. Some days, at least.

Their daughter was asleep in the car seat, exhausted from preschooler life, so they kept quiet while Aelin drove Rowan back to base for his night class.

"I'll call you," was the only thing he said. Not goodbye or thank you for the ride.

Aelin knew she meant he'd call Maisie for their goodnight call, but she took the bait anyway. "No, you'll call Maisie."

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose, and Aelin could feel her body go tense again. He was the one annoyed, really?

"I don't understand why we keep having the same conversation over and over."

"Me neither, is that so hard to stop calling me and use the f—" she glanced at Maisie, still asleep. "Fucking parenting app?" Aelin whispered.

"You know what?" He leaned closer to her, hand resting on the car panel. "It is. I hate that app."

"I. Don't. Care. I can't have you calling me several times a day to ask stupid shit like if I packed Maisie's lunch."

Rowan frowned. "That kind of comment isn't helping, Aelin. In fact, it makes me even more concerned."

Was he implying that Aelin didn't care?

Heat flushed through her whole body as she saw red. "Get out of my car."

He didn't.

"Now!" Aelin whisper-yelled, still trying not to wake Maisie up. "Don't you have a student to screw or something?"

Rowan's eyes widened, and every feature of his face slowly started looking consumed by rage. From his glare to his reddened face.

He held back, though.

"You know what?" Rowan unfastened his seatbelt. "I can't talk to you when you're like this."

"Great." Aelin knew she had gone too far. She'd think about it the day she actually cared.

"And I'll call you as many times a day I want whenever you're with my daughter."

He got out and slammed the car door.

Rowan's body went taut at the same time Aelin flinched. They both knew what was happening now.

"Mommy, where's Daddy going?" Their daughter asked a moment later, rubbing her eyes.

Maisie's lips started wobbling the second she noticed Rowan was leaving, and she was wailing even before he could get into the backseat to soothe her. He kept saying that he'd see her at their goodnight call later and tomorrow at the pickup again, but nothing seemed to work.

Resting her head on the steering wheel and taking a deep breath, Aelin tried to think of something. The best bribes were always ice cream or more screen time. She needed to pick her weapons wisely.

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#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fic #aelin and rowan #tog au #look at us now

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aelinschild · 2 months

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Paradigm; side by side

˙✧˖ March 4th: Wanderlust

Main Masterlist | Paradigm; side by side Masterlist |

SYNOPSIS: Wanderlust; a lust for wandering. WORDCOUNT: 1.1K WARNINGS: Sexual innuendos, Cursing, a little degradation?

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics 2024 March Prompts. Go check out the other works over there!

He had a garden.

Underloved but overgrown. Sat on the southernmost side of the house, curled between fruit trees that dripped abundance. Sagging branches with succulent flesh. She hadn't wanted to overstep – had no chance to establish boundaries before the man had disappeared. But, she loathed to leave anything in wait.

Gluttoning herself on pears and apricots, their sticky residue tracing routes of evidence to her collarbones; down her wrists. Stones sat piled in a facsimile pyramid, cores tossed into the dirt. Laden in her stomach, she felt drunk off the sugar and sunshine.

She was in a new pair of night clothes; a cotton chemise that stopped just before her knees. Proper despite the lecherous staining. It would have to be washed, scrubbed clean of the sensuality. The bottom, her ass, was most likely stained from the dirt beneath her. Rich and moist, fertile in every way.

In the span of a hundred hours, she had shed some sleuthing layer of herself. Skinning off time in exchange of a carcass dripping in currents. Sure, arguably the sun could dictate her comings and goings, but it had yet to cinder unprotected tranquillity.

This coastal paradise, a possibility beyond imagination. If she hadn't been dripping in her testimony of existence, she would have thought this was a dream. It felt hazy like one, under smoke mirrors and pungent cravings; all made earthly. Like some advertised escape, teetering on the edge of delirium but with the promise of rejuvenation. Except, she had no reason to return.

If it would be like this – quiet and lonesome – she would fit in with the pattern. Dust motes passing could barely hold a candle to her effect.

Of course, she did have responsibilities. Had to make money in some way or another, had to pay her tithe to the church of reality. But, Aelin amended, she could find a way to remove that constraint – those chains – while not suffering a desperate loss. Something with no way back.

She would have to speak to Rowan, first, though.

Standing on legs like a fawns, she gathered the seeds and kept them in her grasp. She would drop them in arbitrary places. See her presence in full bloom, eventually.

Making her way down to the shoreline, tossing stones and giggling at the noise of a ricochet. Closer to the water, the sounds were overwhelmed by the maw of oddity. Cool and vast, stones forgotten, Aelin toed her way into the water. The foam by the edge curled around sunkissed ankles and up to bruised knees. Deeper and deeper, cutting off synapses and blinding tactility. It took all of one choked breath before she was submerged, diving into obscurity.

Air was ripped from her lungs.

Currents rolled and crashed, twining together in a dance she had no understanding of the steps to. Pliable, she rolled with the water, eyes shut out. She felt hair and cotton. She felt immemorial gashes of land, their mark interrupted with her presence; her fleeting pressure bruising into lonely sands.

Spun around, lashing out like a shout, the water reigned absolute over her. It was a pounding, a thud thud thud on a door that should have stayed closed. There was a tightness, a burning, deep in viscera and flesh. Life force ripped from marrow. Elbows cracked on rocks, skin split on reef decay. Her body bent to the will of a beast.

Out, her mind chanted. Humming in the back of her skull. Out. Out, out, out!

Eyelids hung with weights and mouth sewn shut in promise, there was no survival instinct. Aelin could have laughed at her lack of care – how dare she challenge what could not be contained? Maybe, maybe, she could swim to the surface, strain worn muscles and atrophied wants. But it felt nicer, calmer, down where that light did not reach. She would let it–

Air came quickly.

“Up! Breathe!” Hacking drowned out shouts; drowned out water; drowned out… the man? “Breathe, woman! Goddammit!”

The world spun, a flashing slideshow of colour. Knees clacking together and hands tightening around linen. Tighter, tighter, tightening–

“Breathe.” Prayer and condemnation wrapped into a weather-worn shore. “In…yeah, there ya go. Good girl. Keep breathing. Right–” Adjusting steel band arms, shifting her around–

“Stop,” Croaking out, her voice came like rusted nails up her throat. She had to cough again, a loud ugly sound. Wrapped up in phlegm and bile. “Let– let go… of me. Ple–”

“No.” Final. Crashing, sinking, ruining.

They were moving. Large legs splashed water in all directions, careless and intentional encased in one. The arm that was a band around her waist hand moved up, up to her shoulders. Casing in rib cages and fluttering heartbeats. Careful placement left his hand North of where she ached. The other tucked under lacerated calves. Body warm, trickling into her head. Fuzzy now, moreso than when she was drowning. A humming and a clicking and a raging. Frame of marble and corded with need, his breaths came out hurried. Tracing over the crown of her head, light ghosting of another human. Her head could roll back, lean into the crevice of his arm, look up at her saviour.

But the hammering of his heart kept her gaze pinned to the horizon.

“I wrote…” Scoffing, a cruel noise, “The currents at night are vicious. Fuck. Why would you do that?”

Through addled thoughts, her mind was back in her bedroom. The novel she had plucked from between couch cushions – currently flattering said note.

“I-”

They were on shore now. She felt the change, the brief unsteadiness before the man readjusted his weight across the sand. Her head spun; from the drowning or the scent of sun-worn skin. He was saying something, rocks falling and skies crashing. Voice honeyed and stabbing, flaying across her nerves.

She landed on her feet with enough force to rock her brain in its encasing; blinding pain. He had dropped her.

Stood like a wet dog, dripping in guilt, melting in shame. Falling apart under some unknown desire. She was facing the man. This invisible figure that ran along capillaries like a scalding kiss. She was so sure her shock poured out in viscous waves – stronger than what had nearly taken her victim.

“Stupid woman,” he growled. Animal and all.

Indignance spilled from blue lips, jumping at opposition. Stopping short as they tumbled from a gaping mouth. Rolling into sand and forgotten in rapture.

She had been so sure that desire could be separated from axons, from cells and neurons. From eyes. Stood in front was what snapped surety, crippling it in its fist like a most fragile cut of crystal. Jagged and fine. Nothing like who she thought she saw, and unlike what she knew. Rowan existed like catastrophe made man; it had only taken the ocean to shape that.

Eyes that held torrential powers wavered, moments ago seeing through her, drifting now to see her.

Cotton chemise and sun-bleached hair.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Taglist: @mariaofdoranelle , @goddess-aelin , @leiawritesstories , @renxzs

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punkassbookjockey26 · 2 months

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Sleight of Hand, Part 4: The Kiss

I wrote this thing in like an hour, so it's probably pretty rough. Enjoy reading! I'm glad I am able to write again.

Rating: T, Warnings: Language

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Another week passed, and Aelin was ready to tear her hair out.

Rowan had been at her apartment almost every night since their accidental cuddle sesh the previous Thursday. He didn’t seem to realize what had happened, or if he did, he was taking the “it never happened” route. Which was fine by her. After all, he was the one who wanted to be friends, and friends didn’t have sleepovers that involved cuddling.

But for the past week, it became clear that whatever “just friends” meant to the both of them were two wildly different definitions, and it was slowly driving her mad. He texted her first thing in the morning to tell her he hoped she had a good day at work and punctuated that same workday with jokes, comments, or other silly things that inevitably led them down a rabbit hole of discussion. In the evenings, they watched movies, dissected TV shows, talked about their favorite books, and he even managed to teach her a card game that was somehow more ruthless than ERS.

Aelin couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun with someone who wasn’t Lysandra and didn’t think she ever had this much fun with a member of the opposite sex. Too often, they were trying to get into her pants to really want to talk about her interests. Still, she and Rowan had settled into a casual intimacy more befitting of a long-term friendship than the brief companionship they had found in each other.

It pissed her off to no end.

They shared so many of the same interests. They could talk for hours, waxing poetic about the intricacies of their favorite books and the utter shit that some critically acclaimed movies were – their only constraint was time, and even then, he would pick conversations back up almost immediately when they were both awake and ready.

In addition to the ease of their conversations, there had been the touching. So much touching. The soft grazes on her legs when they sat in bed to watch a movie; the hugs he mentioned that he hated but seemed to dole out to her at a whim; the casual grasping of her hands, her legs, her feet, her whatever body part he could get a hand on. Nothing salacious, but every time he brushed against her skin, Aelin couldn’t help the want that bloomed imperiously in her body.

The past week had been excruciating. Aelin felt on edge, torn between running away from him, knowing that devastation lay waiting in the wings, or confronting him about the confusing nature of their relationship, only to get rejected again. Aelin had been all ready to shut down her crush on him. She could respect the boundary he set – nothing said he was required to pursue a relationship with her, even if the feelings were mutual. She had worked hard to ensure she had her heart eyes under control when he was around. But Rowan had the complete and utter audacity to be charming, funny, gorgeous, and totally into her, even if he wasn’t interested in furthering their relationship.

She never stood a chance.

And really, if she spent longer than five seconds thinking about it, the whole situation scared her shitless. Here she was again, careening headfirst into a level of infatuation that was frankly insane. She shouldn’t have been surprised – it was her MO when it came to guys and dating, but she figured after the shit with Chaol that she would have been more discerning. Apparently, all it takes is for a guy to treat her with the slightest modicum of respect, and she was a goner.

That thought plagued her every time she opened his text thread, or he stopped by her apartment. What she had already felt for Rowan had eclipsed her supposed feelings for Chaol, and she had stayed with him for almost two years. All she could see was the end of the summer and the soul-wrenching pain of heartbreak. But she couldn’t stop herself. She found herself obsessing over the slight touches, the warmth of his body radiating into her as they sat next to each other on her bed, the infectious way he made her laugh, and the smiles he seemed to save just for her. It had only been two weeks since he slammed that wall down between them, but to Aelin, it had felt like a lifetime had stretched between them during those two weeks. He made her feel so much that it was already hard enough to walk away at the end of the summer. But right now? Even with self-preservation on the line, she couldn’t make herself do it.

Which was why she found herself standing at the door to his apartment that Friday evening. He had texted her earlier to let her know that his roommates were heading out of town for the weekend, and he had the whole place to himself if she wanted to stop by for a movie marathon. Aelin surmised that he probably didn’t intend the suggestive tone she read from his message, but heat had spread quickly throughout her body at the thought of being truly alone with him. She had her own room that allowed for some privacy, of course, but she was never without company in her apartment, not with the scores of friends who had unfettered access to her home.

Her skin prickled in anticipation as she knocked on the door. She shivered when the breeze brushed over her, definitely due to nerves; Rifthold was experiencing one of the hottest summers on record, so whatever wind was just as warm and sticky as the night that surrounded her. She heard the shuffling of footsteps from inside, a lock that thunked into place, and the whine of older hinges as the door opened in front of her.

Rowan smiled at her brightly, that smile that seemed to be only for her. Aelin hadn’t seen him interact with many people to know if there was a difference between what he gave to them versus what he saved for her, but she had the impression that smiles for him were rare. She savored those smiles. They were precious and, in her mind, meant only for her.

“Hey, Ae,” Rowan said warmly. She swore her heart fluttered at that single-syllable utterance. Two weeks, and he already had a nickname for her. Took Chaol several months into their relationship before he called her anything other than Aelin. Just another obvious tell that Chaol had not been right for her. Rowan’s presence in her life put all of Chaol’s shortfalls on blast, and she may as well have been keeping a running tally every time a new one popped up.

“Hey, yourself.” Aelin found herself returning his smile with a grin of her own and didn’t wait before entering his apartment. It wasn’t as spartan as she had expected – she had seen the interiors of some apartments with nothing but a chair and a TV – but the furniture was sparse, making the transient nature of its tenants obvious. A single couch lay against the wall opposite a TV on what appeared to be a rickety stand. A foldout tray stood beside it, holding up the latest gaming system. It was functional, but it was also evident that Rowan had never intended to put down any roots.

Swallowing the lump that rose unbidden in her throat, she turned back to Rowan. “You mentioned a movie marathon. What are we watching tonight?”

Rowan brushed a hand behind his head, that same nervous tick she had noticed from the beginning. “How do you feel about westerns?”

Aelin tried to avoid making a face, but it was almost instantaneous. Westerns were decidedly not her favorite thing, but they were obviously something that Rowan enjoyed. She knew she had misstepped the second his grin melted away into embarrassment, and he immediately started backpedaling.

“We don’t have to watch them,” he said sheepishly. “We can watch something else instead.”

“No, Rowan,” Aelin stepped towards him, laying her hand on his arm. The heat of his skin scorched her palm, and she felt him take a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry for making a face just now; I wasn’t trying to make any decisions or make you feel bad. What movies did you have in mind?”

Rowan’s demeanor brightened a bit at the concession. “You’ve heard of The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly, right?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Well, of course. I think everyone has.”

“Did you know it’s actually the third movie in a trilogy?”

She was surprised, even though there really was no reason for her to be. She didn’t watch Westerns, so why would she know it was part of a trilogy? She only knew of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly by name.

At her silence, Rowan continued to talk. “It is arguably the best movie in the trilogy, and obviously the most well-known, but The Man with No Name has many stories to tell.”

Aelin started. “I’m sorry, the who?”

Rowan chuckled at her. “Let’s start at the beginning.”

---

Three hours later, Aelin felt herself dozing. They had gotten through A Fistful of Dollars with little fanfare and immediately started For a Few Dollars More. But the second movie was almost twice as long as the first, and while she hadn’t hated the experience so far, it was a bit of a stretch for her to say that she was actively enjoying the movies.

Rowan, on the other hand, sat rapt next to her, his eyes never moving away from the screen. He mainly had been quiet throughout the first movie, only focusing on her when she had a question regarding the plot. Aelin could tell that this was one of his favorites, so she made sure never to give the impression that she disliked it, but after pausing the movie and declaring a need for a break, she found herself curious about something.

“So why Westerns?” Aelin asked. He was wearing a faded Nirvana t-shirt and another pair of ratty jeans. She was pretty sure the shoes next to the door were a beat-up pair of Chuck Taylors. Everything about him screamed alternative, so the Western thing was a bit surprising.

Rowan had paused for a moment, thinking. “My uncle loves them.”

Rowan took a deep breath, almost as if to calm himself down. Aelin prompted him to continue.

“My parents passed away when I was eight years old,” Rowan said quietly. “My dad had a heart attack when he was still young, and my mother followed soon after, consumed with grief.”

Aelin felt the tears welling up. “Oh, Rowan, I’m so sorry.”

Rowan waved his hand noncommittally, but it was evident that he still felt their deaths strongly, even years later.

“Afterward, I went to live with my uncle and my cousins. I have so many of them; having another child in the midst didn’t seem out of place. He watched Westerns whenever he had a chance. When I missed my parents or didn’t want to be around my cousins, I sought him out, and we would watch them together. He is a huge fan of the John Wayne ones, but his favorite is Once Upon a Time in the West. The director, Sergio Leone, also made the movies we’re watching, effectively creating the whole ‘spaghetti western’ sub-genre.”

Aelin wrinkled her nose. “What’s a spaghetti western?”

Rowan laughed. “Literally speaking, they're Western movies made by Italian directors,” he started. “But also as an antithesis to the traditional US Western. Most US Westerns depict a conflict between an incorruptible hero and a diabolical villain. Spaghetti Westerns turn that tradition on its head and are categorized by their rougher, bloodier, and more violent nature. You see that Clint Eastwood’s character isn’t a good guy, right? But he is still very much the protagonist of these movies.”

Aelin thought about the movie for a moment. She supposed that even if the film wasn’t her thing, she could appreciate the storytelling aspect of having a flawed anti-hero as the protagonist.

Aelin turned and smiled back at Rowan. “If Once Upon a Time in the West is your Uncle’s favorite, what is yours?”

Without a beat, Rowan responded. “Also Once Upon a Time in the West.”

“Well, why aren’t we watching that one instead?”

“Because,” he stated. “It’s an almost three-hour movie, and if you’re already fading this much with just A Fistful of Dollars under your belt, you’d never last.”

“I am not fading,” Aelin said indiginantly.

“Sure, you definitely weren’t dozing the twenty minutes before you called for a break.” Rowan’s eyes twinkled in the dim light, his joy illuminated by the TV screen. They commenced in a staring contest, neither one backing down from their asserted position. Time seemed to still in that moment, and Aelin felt like she was drowning in the warmth radiating from his emerald green eyes.

Moments passed before Rowan spoke again, this time softly, and Aelin might have missed it if she hadn’t already been so free with the attention she gave.

“Thank you.”

The soft comment broke her from her daze. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For watching them with me. I know it’s not your thing; your face spoke volumes earlier. But I still appreciate your willingness to watch them with me just because they’re my favorite.”

Aelin felt emotion swell inside, her face splitting into a wide grin. “Of course, Rowan. I want to learn about what makes you who you are.”

“Well, in that case…what is your favorite movie?”

Aelin chuckled. “We’re not answering questions about me right now.”

Whatever shadows had lingered in his eyes from his earlier conversation had cleared, and only a mischievous gleam remained. “But part of what makes me who I am is an insatiable need to know more about you. I actually can’t believe we’ve spent most of the last week watching movies, and this topic never came up once.”

Aelin smiled softly at his antics but quickly sobered as she noticed he was still expecting an answer to his question. “You’re going to laugh.”

“I absolutely will not,” Rowan said, crossing his finger over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart.”

She sighed deeply before resigning herself to whatever happens.“It’s Beauty and the Beast.”

A deep laugh burst out of Rowan’s chest, and Aelin scowled at him. Chaol had done the same thing, and she supposed it left a sting behind.

“I swear, I’m not laughing at you. Okay, maybe I am, but only because you thought I would laugh at you for liking the first animated film to be nominated for a Best Picture Oscar.”

“Okay, maybe it’s not that embarrassing, but plenty of people have made me feel bad for enjoying a “kid’s movie” so much.” Chaol for sure had, preferring the over-the-top artsy crap that was always in the running for awards.

Rowan immediately stopped laughing and looked at her somberly. “Well, those people are dicks and wouldn’t know good cinema if it bit them in the ass.”

---

Rowan had pressed play on the movie not too shortly after their conversation, but Aelin couldn’t recall much of what had happened. She had tried to stay awake, but the stress of the week and the film that was most definitely not working for her led to her falling asleep. When she woke, the soft grayish light was peeking through the blinds in the living room, letting her know that it was still very early in the morning.

She and Rowan had fallen asleep on the couch together, it appeared. And much like the week before, Rowan had wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her into his body. She marveled at how well they fit together, that even though she was definitely on the tall side, he was still that much taller and broader than she was. She fit perfectly under his chin.

But unlike last week, she had difficulty extricating herself from his arms. She was comfortable, surrounded everywhere by his warmth and that pine/snow scent radiating off him in waves. It made her think of home, of Oakwald forest where she would play with other members of her family who had been lost to time, illness, and more. The forest was so close to the Staghorn mountains that when the wind would come in from the mountaintops, it mixed delightfully with the lush pine scent of the trees.

She would only allow herself a few moments of snuggling, but then she would work on removing herself from his arms again. She got lucky last week in sparing themselves the embarrassment, but she didn’t think she would be so lucky this time.

And she wasn’t. The second she turned her head away from the window, her eyes met a set of green in the dimly lit space. Her breath hitched. Aelin wasn’t sure how Rowan would handle being caught in this compromising situation, and she didn’t really want to stick around to find out.

However, neither of them moved. They both lay entwined, breathing each other in. The couch was not deep, and if not for how close they were laying, Aelin likely would have ended up on the floor at some point in the night. Rowan’s hold on her waist seemingly tightened around her, and Aelin swore he could feel the thunderous beat of her heart against his chest.

It could have been seconds or minutes that they lay there looking at each other, seemingly unwilling to move from this protective haven of warmth and comfort. And just as Aelin decided to remove herself, Rowan reached his hand to cup her cheek.

His palm was warm against her face, his thumb swiping across her cheekbone so softly that Aelin wasn’t entirely sure it was happening. Rowan’s fingers twined with the hair coming loose from the ponytail she wore last night as his gaze turned into something molten that caused a fire to spark to life inside her.

Before she could ask him what he was doing, Rowan leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against her mouth.

It wasn’t anything more than a chaste peck, and it was over before she even fully registered that it happened, but Aelin jumped in his arms at the touch, and without his arm around her, she started falling off the couch.

Rowan immediately shifted, trying to keep her from sliding off the edge, only to end up on the floor in the ensuing scuffle. Rowan’s hand cradled the back of her head as if he were trying to prevent a head injury in the half foot or so she fell to the floor. The other was wrapped tightly around her waist, and with the added bonus of gravity, Aelin could feel all of Rowan’s weight deliciously on top of her.

They both stared wide-eyed at each other – Rowan’s were mixed with a level of surprise and concern, whereas she was confident that hers were just surprised by the unfolding of events that occurred. A moment passed. Another. A third one before Rowan finally put them out of their misery.

His lips pressed against hers once again.

This one was not the chaste kiss from mere moments ago. This one had a hunger to it that left Aelin breathless. She registered his soft, firm, demanding mouth against hers and moved hers in whatever way he directed. She felt the soft slide of his tongue against her lips, and she gladly allowed him entrance to her mouth. Their tongues sensually moved against each other, and his hands tightened around her waist. He had pulled her fully against him, not that there was anywhere else to go between his hard body and the floor. Not that Aelin even wanted to move.

The rational part of her said that they needed to stop and talk about what was actively transpiring at that moment. But the other part of her brain was content to keep this boy in her arms for as long as possible.

Rowan had moved from her mouth down the column of her neck, placing little nips in the sensitive skin before trailing back up and doing it all over again. Aelin carded her fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, the same spot he went to when he was nervous. He sure didn’t seem nervous now. In fact, Rowan seemed completely capable of kissing away the breath in her lungs.

But as he nibbled down her neck, she couldn’t help asking. “Rowan, what are you doing?”

“Kissing you” was the only smart-alec response he got from the man currently ravishing her.

“But…what about…,” Aelin drew in a sharp breath as Rowan found a particularly erogenous zone right at the base of her neck, where it met her collar bone. Aelin attempted to stifle the moan that slid up through her throat, but she was not entirely successful. She heard Rowan groan in response as he continued to place sucking kisses against her sensitive skin.

Aelin tried again to get his attention. “Rowan…I’m-…we’re not supposed to be doing this.”

Only then did Rowan stop. He pulled back from her throat, his arms braced against her head as he stared down at her. She watched as he licked his lips as if savoring the taste of her mouth inside his, and she practically melted right into the floor.

Never in her wildest dreams had a man look at her the way Rowan looked at her then. Like she was fierce and passionate, a warrior, but also someone capable of taking his breath away. He sighed, reluctantly relenting just a tiny bit of space to say his piece.

“We can do whatever we like. And you’re right; we probably shouldn’t. But now that I’ve started this, I can’t seem to stop.”

It didn’t hurt her ego to hear him say that. She had practically been in a whirlwind of emotion for the past week, analyzing and reanalyzing their interactions, and it was nice to hear that he had been experiencing a similar kind of hell.

“We can be friends who kiss, right?” Aelin asked tentatively. She didn’t want to do it, but she also knew that this would only ever be a summer fling, so if she wanted him, she needed to meet him where he was and be okay with what happened after.

She didn’t have to wait long. Rowan quickly returned to what he was doing before she interrupted him. He even responded to the question she asked about friends who kiss. However, despite the shiny golden light unfurling within her like a newborn star, his response to her question left an ominous sense of dread in its wake.

“We can be friends who kiss, but I still have to leave at the end of the summer."

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

Tagging those who might still be interested in this ancient fossil of a fic:

@highqueenofelfhame @shyvioletcat @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @morganofthewildfire @mariamuses @1islessthan3books @superspiritfestival @jesstargaryenqueen @chieflemming @swankii-art-teacher @rowaelinismyotp @booknerdproblems

#throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #aelin galythinius #tog #aelin x rowan #aelin and rowan #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #tog fic #tog fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass au #throne of glass fanfiction #pabj26writing

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inprogress-predicament · 23 days

Text

Favorite Relationship Dynamic

Character A: *stone wall. no emotion.* Hm.

Character B: *vibrating to the point phasing out of reality* COME GET SOME MOTHERFUCKERS

#I'm reading the Bone Witch series #and this Tea and Kalen #Maybe a little OC on my part but I don't care #Rose and Dimitri #Nesta and Cassian #vampire academy #ACOSF #Aelin and Rowan #Ciri and Geralt and Jaskier and Geralt because dynamic doesn't have to be romantic #Ellie and Joel #the witcher #the last of us #Jake Peralta and Rosa Diaz #B99 #Brooklyn 99

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silly--fangirl · 17 days

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i didn't love rowaelin right from the start, i liked it but i wasn't a "ride or die" fan, but now they warm my heart everytime i think about them and i just LOVE them sm

#tog #throne of glass #tog series #throne of glass series #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowan and aelin #aelin and rowan

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sofiasjornal · 3 months

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“Unleashing a cry that set the world trembling, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius, Consort of the Queen of Terrasen, began the hunt to find his wife.”

Empire of Storms; Sarah J Maas

This book has destroyed me…

#books #throne of glass #tog #sarah j maas #empire of storms #bookblr #aelin #aelin fireheart #queen aelin #aelin and rowan #king Rowan #aelin throne of glass #aelin of the wildfire #rowan x aelin #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #rowan #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin

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writtenonreceipts · 2 years

Note

Idk if you're open for prompts but if you are then could you write something in which Rowan has to go to some fancy dinner and knows remelle is gonna be there so he asks Aelin (who he barely knows through elorcan) to accompany him

Rowaelin Month Day Ten: An Unconventional Way to Get a Date month master list @rowaelinscourt

not gonna lie, i ended up writing half of this as soon as you sent it in. thanks nonny!!

Warnings: mentions of cheating (nothing explicit or shown, only briefly mentioned/discussed), holiday cheer in mid-september, slight angst ~11k words

...

The Perfect Act

Rowan Whitethorn had never been one to enjoy the holidays. Not the social customs that came with them, not the excess of sweets and food, not the commercials and ads, and most especially not the parties. None of it was natural. This time of the year was always forced—whittling away will and want until there was nothing left.

As soon as September first hit and straight until January fifteenth (for safety) Rowan did everything he could to avoid anything that had to do with celebration and the mere suggestion of pumpkin spice. He’d done so since the age of sixteen and his parents first got sick. And then when they both passed mere weeks after his eighteenth birthday, it was only natural to perpetuate the avoidance into his own ritual.

And it had worked. Most of his relationships never lasted long enough to reveal his holiday aversion and if they had—it was easily passed over and forgotten.

His last relationship had been something different, though. He’d met Remelle at work on a whim after needing to visit the legal team for whatever reason. After a few weeks of flirtation led to a date—they’d somehow been labeled as a couple. HR document signed and all. Rowan had no idea how it had actually happened, one day they’d gone out to lunch in July and the next they were headed into Fall, apartment keys exchanged and everything. From start to finish it all just felt like a storm waged through his life. Though, really, there’d been nothing he could do about it.

And then September first hit.

And so did the Holiday Shmear.

Perhaps it was depression that wove through his mind and soul at this time of year. Perhaps it was nothing more than his mind being stronger than his will. But by the second week of September, Remelle had racked up a credit card with inane purchases, cheated on him, and blocked him on all social media platforms.

He still didn’t know if it was the refusal to try a pumpkin spice latte or asking her not to steal his credit card that did it. Now, early November, Rowan still had no idea what had done it.

“Hey, Rowan!” The greeting was a welcome from his thoughts and Rowan entered the small house settled just outside the city.

Elide Lochan was a strange person, he’d long ago decided. Stock full of sarcasm and ire, her wide brown eyes combined with soft, gentle features of innocence. When he’d first met her nearly six years ago now, Rowan had thought she were that innocent little thing. Until he introduced her to Lorcan. And the floodgates had opened.

“Hey,” he said, offering as near a hug as could be managed.

The three-month-old baby in her arms had just discovered he had fingers and loved grabbing anything and everything in sight.

“C’mon in,” Elide said as she already walked through the house. The small entryway was cluttered with shoes, boxes, and piles of Tupperware with sticky notes designating the proper owners. “Sorry it’s a mess.”

Mess wasn’t the word Rowan would use. Especially not when Elide had only been cleared for heavier work after the baby being born. The pregnancy and labor had been difficult and Rowan had taken on several of Lorcan’s responsibilities at work so he could be with Elide throughout the recovery.

The house was lived in—pictures decorated the walls highlighting a whirlwind romance that had Lorcan and Elide meeting, dating, and marrying all within a year. There were university degrees interspersed with awards from various organizations as well. Elide’s humanitarian work for a non-profit had been her greatest accomplishment.

“Elide, you just had a baby,” Rowan said, following her to the kitchen. “Relax.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder as she kept a hand on Tavish’s head. “I’ll relax when I want to, thank-you.”

Rowan sighed. No, Elide would relax when she’d inevitably collapse from trying to do too much too soon. And since Lorcan was still at work getting caught up on a few projects, Rowan was left to convince the woman to sit down and let him order out.

“Can I at least hold my godson?” he asked. They entered the kitchen—stacked with even more Tupperware to find its rightful owner. A pressure cooker was set out with a myriad of ingredients ready to be added.

“Fine,” Elide relented. She passed the baby over and Rowan took him.

Tavish had been born five weeks early with his fair share of medical issues. But over the last few weeks and months, the little guy had gained his strength and was now home where he belonged. He was still tiny and wrinkly and a strange sight to see.

“Hey bud,” Rowan murmured. He kept the baby tucked to his side, fully supported. Elide had gone through several tutorials of how to properly hold a baby. He’d graduated three times over before being able to hold the baby for the first time. Fenrys was in retraining.

Tavish blinked wide, black eyes at him and snatched a hand out towards Rowan’s face.

As Rowan paced the kitchen, Elide muttered curses at the pressure cooker.

“Why don’t I order take out,” Rowan suggested casually. He grabbed a burp rag from the table as Tavish spit up.

Elide glared at him. “I can make dinner perfectly fine. I don’t need more casserole dishes, I don’t need more pity brownies, and I don’t need—”

The pressure cooker let out a loud shriek that made Tavish whimper. Rowan shifted and Tavish settled, but the baby passed his eyes about in search of the miserable noise.

“I hate this thing,” Elide muttered.

“There’s a Thai place right down the street,” Rowan said, “best phad-thai in the city.”

Elide scowled at him, but Rowan could see the tiredness to her eyes and how she was already eyeing the nearest chair.

“I hate you,” she said.

“I know,” Rowan said. He passed back her baby and took his phone out of his pocket.

Forty minutes later, the order had been placed and delivered, Tavish was in a milk coma after a feeding, and Rowan sat at the table trying to beat her at a round of cribbage. Given that Elide had just rounded up fifteen points with a damn queen and set of fives, it was not going well.

“You’re terrible at this,” she told him.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He’d gotten in the habit of coming to the Lochan household even before Tavish had been born. Lorcan was one of his oldest friends and Elide was always eager to open her house to others. Plus, if there was anyone who hated the holidays as much as Rowan it was Lorcan. Though, by the sight of a few Christmas decorations oozing out of a box in the living room Elide was slowly chipping away at Lorcan’s brooding persona.

“I promise I won’t make you sing Christmas carols to Tavish when he can’t sleep,” Elide said, following his gaze to the decorations.

“It’s barely the second week of November, Elide,” Rowan groused, “who wants to be listening to Rudolph this early?”

“Grumpy,” Elide mused. On the floor beside them, Tavish slept in a little hammock style swing that Elide gently swayed with her foot every once in a while. “But you should be warned, this is Tavish’s first Thanksgiving and Christmas, I will be pulling out all the stops for him.”

“Of course you are,” Rowan said. He reshuffled the deck of cards and dealt the next hand.

“You would make an excellent Christmas elf,” Elide said. Humor burned in her eyes as he scowled.

“Remind me why I bother visiting you anymore?” he asked.

“Because you like me,” Elide declared as the front door opened and Lorcan finally arrived home.

Lorcan quietly entered the house, gave Elide a kiss, knelt before Tavish’s little swing, and then grabbed his own plate of food.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Rowan with narrowed eyes.

Rowan scowled. “I can’t visit my friends?”

“Hm,” Lorcan grunted.

“He didn’t bring any more casserole dishes, he can come whenever he wants,” Elide told her husband.

Lorcan snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. When are we getting rid of all that stuff?”

“Well, half of it is from Aelin,” Elide replied. She took a bite of noodles and shrugged. “I think she’s stopping by later tonight. She even offered to return the other containers. Do you remember Aelin, Rowan? She was my maid of honor.”

“You hated her,” Lorcan supplied.

It had been two years since the wedding and in all honesty, Rowan had spent most of it drunk when at all possible. Though, he’d been best man and…he remembered walking down the aisle with the woman who had promised him that if Lorcan did anything to hurt Elide she’d murder Lorcan, then him.

“The blonde with the death threat?”

“See?” Lorcan said, he stood to refill waters and grab napkins, “she’s demonic, ‘Lide.”

“And I love her for it.” Elide smiled at her husband. It was a happy, soft look that Elide only had for Lorcan and now Tavish.

Ever since knowing Lorcan, Rowan had never seen anyone react to him the way Elide did. Hell, the way Lorcan had changed and grown since knowing Elide too--Rowan honestly couldn’t see one without the other.

“How was work?” Elide asked Lorcan.

The man winced and cast a look at Rowan. “Well.”

“Oh, hell,” Rowan cursed. He knew what was coming. It had been something he’d been avoiding for weeks now.

In his little hammock, Tavish let out a whimper. Lorcan immediately dropped his eyes to his son, but Tavish quieted down.

“What happened?” Elide asked, already reaching to the small armoire behind her for Tavish’s binky.

“The holiday party is happening,” Lorcan said. He shoveled piles of rice and noodles in his mouth to avoid saying any more.

Rowan cursed again and sat back in his chair. He’d always been so careful in how he approached the Holidays and planning vacations and doctor’s appointments around the major parties and events he didn’t want to attend. This year was different. Not just because of Remelle and that mess. But Rowan had also been given a major promotion. He was in charge of an entire department and as such would be expected to attend work parties such as this.

“Remelle was very insistent,” Lorcan added.

Rowan knew what that meant. He sighed. Hell.

Another whimper sounded from Tavish and Elide was quick to swing him up in her arms and rock him. When he still didn’t settle she stood. Lorcan reached out a hand for the baby.

“Do you want—?” he began, but Elide shook her head.

She dropped a kiss to Lorcan’s forehead and headed out of the kitchen. “It’s fine, he just needs a change.”

Lorcan watched as Elide left down the hall, a gentle look on his face. Once he turned to Rowan, however, the look hardened back to his usual scowl.

“While you were busy putting out fires for Graves, the other department heads pushed the party forward,” Lorcan said. “And Remelle wasn’t subtle about it being in December and as Christmas-y as possible.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew he shouldn’t have been, but Rowan couldn’t help but feel the jab. He’d thought Remelle had understood and accepted, in part, his aversion to gatherings and socializing at this time of year. But then he thought of her quips and coldness. The way she’d tried to fill his apartment with seasonable candles and slip pumpkin spice creamer in his fridge.

“Why the hell did you let me date her?” Rowan asked.

“I tried to warn you,” Lorcan threw up his hands in defense. “You’re the one who made a pros and cons list.”

Lorcan began cleaning up the takeout containers and plates. He made sure anything extra made it to the fridge. When he returned to the table, he passed Rowan a beer.

“I didn’t make a list,” Rowan muttered as he opened his beer.

Lorcan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. But you should also know that Remelle…well she mentioned bringing her boyfriend.”

Down the hall, Rowan heard Elide murmuring softly to Tavish. Other than that, there were only the few sounds of cars rushing by outside and the heating system kicked on sending a rumble through the house.

He hadn’t loved Remelle. Nowhere even close to it. In fact, Rowan was glad to have gotten out of that relationship. But he’d been hung up on it. Had thought about it. Had wondered why she’d cheated on him instead of talking to him about where they stood. He didn’t care about the credit card; he’d gotten most of his money back in that. It was in the idea of being used by Remelle that still clung to him like a shadow.

“Three weeks,” Rowan finally said. He drank nearly half his beer in one go. “Glad she’s doing so well.”

“She’s a bitch, Rowan,” Lorcan said. His already dark scowl went darker still. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. I can try and speak up on Monday and get you out of it—”

Rowan shook his head. “It’s the first major get together since the promotion. I know how Nesryn is, she’ll want me at that party.”

The CEO of the company was usually understanding, but Rowan didn’t want to get on her bad side.

He and Lorcan sat in the near silence. Lorcan, never one for words anyways, remained quiet. Though, Rowan had known him long enough to recognize how irritated his friend actually was.

“We could insist on no plus-ones unless it’s a spouse,” Lorcan said, “even if health restrictions have been more lenient.”

Rowan just shook his head. “I’m a grown man. I can handle myself.”

Though, he could already see the way Remelle’s eyes would spark at seeing him alone. At least he had a month to prepare. Still, he felt a bit of panic rise in his chest. Not just at the thought of dealing with the holidays, but at dealing with that subtle judgment Remelle was sure to dish out.

There was a knock at the door and Lorcan rose to answer it.

“Well, well,” a woman’s voice crooned. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?”

“I’m not old,” Lorcan muttered. There was the sound of footsteps, the door closing, and Lorcan’s sigh.

“You have a child and are officially over thirty,” the woman said happily, “Safe to say I can call you old.”

The woman who entered the kitchen next was nearly impossible to look away from. Despite it being the bare beginnings of November, she already wore a dress decorated in gingerbread men and candy canes, a pair of bright red tights, and black flats. Her hair was styled with little bits of tinsel and her make-up was a wild collection of red and green eyeliner. She was a walking ad of Christmas. And still, Rowan was struck by her.

She walked with confidence, a grin in place at successfully teasing Lorcan, and she simply had a bright openness about her. Despite the Christmas vomit she’d covered herself in, Rowan could see her beauty. Her blonde hair framed sharp features and bright eyes.

“Take your casserole dishes so I can have my kitchen back,” Lorcan said. He walked around to his chair and sat.

“Where’s your better half?” the woman asked. She glanced around and finally seemed to notice Rowan. She paused and frowned, just barely. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Rowan greeted, tipping his beer as a sort of wave.

“Aelin?” Elide’s voice came from down the hall and then she appeared with a freshly bundled baby in her arms.

“Hey!” Aelin tried, and failed, to hold back her happy greeting, leaning into a slight shriek as she hurried to Elide.

Immediately, Elide passed the baby over and Aelin took Tavish in her arms. If she’d been happy before, that paled in comparison to how she cooed and awed at Tavish who seemed captivated by the sparkles in her hair.

“Oh little man, look at you and your new pajamas,” Aelin said.

Rowan watched as she came into the kitchen, Tavish in arms. The baby wore footed pajamas that were nearly as festive as Aelin herself. Santa’s and reindeer pranced along the fabric merrily.

“What did you do to that kid?” Rowan couldn’t help but ask. “Elide, Thanksgiving hasn’t even happened.”

Before Elide could reply, Aelin gave an affronted gasp and turned to Rowan.

“You’re one of those Anti-Holiday people, aren’t you?’ she asked.

Rowan only shook his head. He didn’t need to respond. Particularly to someone he didn’t even know.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” Aelin continued when Rowan didn’t reply. She really looked at him then and Rowan could see the flash of recognition in her eyes. “Oh, you’re the Buzzard.”

“The what?” Rowan nearly spit out his beer. He looked between Elide and Lorcan, but they proved to be useless. Elide was failing at stifling laughter and Lorcan was up and grabbing another beer.

“Buzzard, buzzkill,” Aelin shrugged a delicate shoulder and grinned down at Tavish who grabbed at her hair. “If I remember correctly, at the wedding, you were hardly any fun. Though, I guess it makes sense if you’re friends with Salvaterre.”

“Thin ice, Galathynius,” Lorcan grumbled. He opened his second beer.

Aelin only hummed as she swayed side to side with Tavish. “I pray your child is better company.”

“Knock it off!” Elide ordered, though she had a smile playing on her lips. “Rowan, can I get you anything else? What do I owe you for the take-out?”

Rowan shook his head and stood. He’d only half finished his beer, but he needed to leave. It was already getting late and he knew that Tavish already had a messed-up sleep schedule.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he said, “my treat.”

Elide looked ready to throw her purse at him and demand he take some money, but he was already headed to the door. His friends had done more than enough for him in the past and they were still struggling with adapting to having Tavish back at home.

“Rowan!” Elide called after him.

“Bye Buzzard!” came from Aelin.

He made it to his truck, a stark contrast to the rest of the lifestyle he lived, and settled in. He’d barely drunk any beer and with the heavy dinner he was more than able to drive. Still, he waited for an extra moment. As Rowan glanced up at Lorcan and Elide, he could just see a sliver into the kitchen. Aelin had passed Tavish to Lorcan who swooped his son into his arms, beside him Elide was laughing over something that had been said.

Rowan shook his head at the simple sight. He’d never had expected Lorcan to settle down before him. Especially not so quickly and happily. But Lorcan wasn’t looking back.

Rowan started the truck—the old engine roared to life and slowly the radio came on. Static curled over the station and gave way to Mariah Carey’s penultimate Christmas triumph.

He turned the radio off and made his way home.

…

The cool autumn air wrapped around Aelin as she trudged into work. It was too early to be awake, even for her. She’d been picking up more shifts at the cafe since her piano lessons had filtered out recently with the season and school year in full swing. Kids didn’t have time during the day, so her nights were usually chaotic.

Still, the cafe needed to function for the sake of downtown traffic and workers. So she opened up and got lights on and music going. It was early in the season, but she’d already organized a new playlist for the year full of new Christmas and holiday songs she’d curated over the year.

It was her favorite time of year. Despite how miserable she’d been recently; she would let herself enjoy the Holidays. She was dressed in another thrift store find—an obnoxious red jumpsuit paired with combat boots that had seen better days.

This last year had been the worst of her life. Her father passing away combined with needing to drop out of school to help her mother in her grief had only added to Aelin’s burden. She’d never speak ill of her mother but after sidelining everything about herself, Aelin was ready for a little bit of brightness.

As the day picked up, she was joined by her coworkers. They didn’t quite understand her exuberance for the season, but they were better than grumpy men who couldn’t even appreciate a baby in a cute onesie.

She shook her head. Why was she thinking about Lorcan’s grumpy friend? Despite the fact that Rowan Whitethorn was, without a doubt, the most attractive man she’d ever seen—he was an ass. And she had no need for that, not now.

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that Aelin saw a small reprieve in the flood of customers. For which she was grateful. She was just finishing a drink before heading on break when the door of the shop opened and a familiar figure entered.

Tall, broad shouldered, silver hair that coiffed easily off his face—Rowan.

It had been a week since Aelin had seen him at Elide’s and just like the days following the wedding—Aelin hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Like a lunatic.

“Well, well,” she said as he approached the register. “The Buzzard.”

He paused, finally realizing who she was. His green eyes widened and a delightfully perplex look crossed that stupidly handsome face.

“You—” he began.

“Me,” she said with a wink. She called out the name for the drink she’d finished and returned to him. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

Well, that was the most ridiculous thing she could have ever said.

Rowan only blinked. He seemed to be more distracted by her outfit than anything.

“Right,” he said slowly, “Um. I got off a late lunch and this was the closest place for caffeine.”

Aelin shrugged. Decent enough answer. “Well, what can I get you? Something with extra caramel and pumpkin spice?”

She said it as a joke, leaving plenty of teasing in her voice with a happy smile. But Rowan’s confused look turned to a scowl.

“No.” He fingered a link of garland Aelin had strung up just yesterday and pure disgust practically bloomed across his face. “I don’t do that stuff.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Aelin told him, trying to urge a smile, Rowan however seemed to not know what the hell a smile was. “It’s Christmas in a cup.”

“No,” he repeated. “Just a latte with raw sugar and oat milk. Iced.”

“Alright,” Aelin said. She rang him up and started on the drink. “So you’re a Christmas denier, then?”

“More like an ignorer,” Rowan replied.

Aelin could only stare. How could—? Even with everything in her life, the holidays had been her saving grace. She loved this time of year, loved the wonder of it all, loved feeling just a little bit of hope.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Rowan growled. He grabbed his finished drink from her before she could set it down.

“Like what?” she challenged, feeling her good mood of the day draining.

“Like you pity me,” he said. “I don’t like the holidays but that doesn’t mean—” He bit off his words so suddenly that Aelin thought he’d had a stroke. Rowan turned away from her, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Just because you don’t like the holidays doesn’t mean you have to be an ass,” Aelin said.

His jaw flexed again and Aelin watched as he took a long breath. Those deep green eyes of his flared with something she couldn’t quite read, but with the way they bore into her, she began to wonder if maybe he could see into her very soul.

Before either of them could say anything, the door of the cafe jingled open. Aelin watched as Rowan turned to leave and then froze. His attention had caught on the new patron, of course. The woman was a few inches shorter than Aelin with platinum blonde hair that hung perfectly straight without a hint of frizz. Her pale skin practically glowed pearlescent in the lights and her slender frame was emphasized by a form fitting black dress. She was beautiful and perfectly composed.

“Rowan?” the woman practically purred. “This is a surprise.”

At that moment, with no real way to explain it, Aelin decided she didn’t like this woman. She didn’t often make such rash or quick judgements, choosing instead to gather more information about someone. Yet, the woman moved with catlike grace and a feral sort of smile bloomed on her perfect, full lips.

“You hate cafe’s,” the woman continued, eyes still trained on Rowan.

To his credit, Rowan hadn’t moved an inch since the woman appeared. Aelin could only see the bare hints of his profile, but she could already see the hard set of his jaw, the flash of his eyes.

“Remelle,” Rowan said, his voice dropping several degrees cooler than the tone he’d used with Aelin.

Hell. Aelin had seen interactions like this. The post-break-up meet that was awkward and miserable for everyone involved. She wondered if turning up the music and letting Michael Buble cry out would solve anything or make it worse.

“Is that all I get?” Remelle laughed and came closer, her heels snipped sharply on the tiled floor. She reached Rowan and placed a hand on his arm, her long fingers curling a bit too tightly for a casual brush. “You know I’m surprised that you aren’t fighting the Christmas party this year. Though, you’ll probably blow it off right? It’s always hard to come alone to things like that. Cairn and I—”

“Remelle,” Rowan spoke loudly, his voice cleanly cutting over hers. And then to Aelin’s everlasting horror, he turned to her. And for the barest of moments, she caught a look of both desperation and effective calculation flash across his eyes. “I would love to catch up, but my girlfriend and I are about to enjoy her break.”

Oh hell no.

Aelin was too surprised to react directly and she very nearly burst out into a fit of giggles if not for the look in Rowan’s eyes and the sneer on Remelle’s face.

“This is your girlfriend?” Remelle scoffed.

“Aelin,” she said brightly. She pulled the ties of her apron and folded it neatly in her hands. “Nice to meet you. Ronda, was it?”

From the back room, Luca appeared. Bless him for actually being on time for his shift for once. She nodded to him and waved. He nodded back and got to work setting up for the afternoon.

“It’s Remelle,” the other woman said. Her pale blue eyes bore into Aelin as she came around the back counter. With the full effect of the jumpsuit and her combat boots on display, partnered with the snowman socks peeking over the tops of the laces, Aelin sidled into Rowan’s side and slipped her arm into his—effectively dislodging Remelle’s hold.

“I’m ready when you are,” she told Rowan, wondering if the psychotic look in her eyes was enough to burn him alive on the spot. Maybe if she added enough Christmas references in the next five minutes.

Rowan looked over her outfit and shook his head. “You look for any chance you get, don’t you?”

“It’s Christmas, I’ll wear what I damn well please,” Aelin said happily.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

He seemed to be forcibly holding back a smirk as he turned back to Remelle. “I’ll see you around, Rem.”

The other woman said nothing only narrowed her eyes and shot another sneer to Aelin before moving past them to the register.

As Rowan took Aelin’s hand, he practically yanked her out of the shop. His grip was impossibly tight that even if Aelin wanted to—she wouldn’t have been able to pull away.

…

It wasn’t until they were out on the cold streets of Terrasen and walking a full block away from the shop that Rowan finally stopped and let go of Aelin. He pulled away from her quickly, breathing hard. Curses and other expletives raged through his mind as he gripped his stupid ass drink and tried not to throw it at the building next to them.

Aelin only stood, hands in pockets and watched. Hell. He hadn’t even let her grab her jacket, had he? And it looked like it was going to snow.

“Do you want my jacket?” he asked, already trying to pull it off one handed. His mother would kill him if she knew what he’d done. Let alone for how he was wrecking her favorite time of the year.

“It’s fine, I can just sing Nat King Cole lyrics, it always helps,” Aelin replied with a shrug.

Rowan stared.

“Dean Martin’s song too,” she continued. “You know what’s a great Christmas song—”

“Stop.” Rowan ran his free hand over his face and shook his head. Why was he such an idiot? He straightened his suit and tossed the latte in a nearby trash. No way he’d be drinking it now. “I’m sorry I dragged you into that. But I appreciate you for playing along.”

“She was absolutely delightful,” Aelin said, “you two seem like you could make a wonderfully spiteful couple. What happened?”

She said it all with that bright, happy undertone as though she were still talking about her favorite Christmas songs. Blonde hair spilled loose from a low bun. Unlike Remelle’s hair, Aelin’s had depth and color with thick waves that gave it body. Even those few tendrils framed her face with subtle lines that emphasized her features.

He blinked and looked away. “It’s not important.”

Aelin crossed her arms over her chest but said nothing. She was probably freezing. Rowan was freezing and he had his suit jacket. At least she had long sleeves on though.

This was all a mess. Rowan looked up the street where a light turned red and four cars still ran through the intersections. A few horns blared halfheartedly. The sky darkened and the clouds appeared denser than before. The shadows that fell over the city weren’t cruel or menacing, rather a promise that something was coming.

“Do you,” Rowan began. He cut himself off and cursed. “Can I get you anything? This is your break, right?”

“I usually just go to the book store and read,” Aelin replied. She shrugged. “It’s usually playing my favorite holiday songs and they have a display of pumpkin candles they sell. Best purchase you will ever make. Aside from the books.”

This woman was unlike anyone Rowan had ever known. She was easily confident and brazen, lighthearted and genuine. Even if she were a walking billboard for Christmas. He didn’t know now whether to appreciate her a little more and throw it all up and walk in the opposite direction.

A flash of Remelle’s cocky smile flashed in his mind and he knew he couldn’t be done with Aelin just yet.

“The question is do you need anything?” Aelin asked. “Girlfriends of Christmases past aren’t my specialty, but I do find sufganiyot, these awesome jelly-filled doughnuts from Israel, to be a great start to the healing process of any situation.”

In her attempts to be a bit more culturally minded this time of year, Aelin had discovered the doughnuts from a friend.

“I don’t eat sugar,” Rowan said automatically. He really couldn’t be having this conversation, could he?

Aelin stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. “You really are the Grinch, aren’t you? No, you’re Krampus. I don’t see you having a change of heart. You look more likely to eat children.”

Mother of—Rowan sighed wondering if he really was about to ask his next question. “I need a favor.”

Aelin cocked her head, her blue and gold eyes sparkling. “A favor? I hardly know you and you just referred to me as your girlfriend. As much as I love the giving side of this season, I think I’m nearing my limit.”

Rowan was starting to see how she might actually get along with Lorcan.

“I know you don’t owe me anything,” he said, “but if I show up to my work holiday party without you now, Remelle will never let me hear the end of it. My life in and out of work will be a living nightmare. There’s no way of escaping her without moving out of the country.”

Aelin’s mouth opened and closed. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and rubbed at her pink nose with even pinker fingers. How was she not utterly frozen?

“You want me to play your fake girlfriend?” she repeated.

“Yes.”

Letting out a bark of laughter, Aelin shook her head. “You want me to be your girlfriend? We would kill each other. Don’t think I don’t know murder eyes when I see them. You hate me Rowan Whitethorn and my love of the Holidays would drive you insane within the span of five minutes.”

Rowan nodded along to her words, hardly offended by her laughing at his request. She had a very good point. He really didn’t know if he could withstand her brand of cheer for even a night.

“I haven’t self-imploded yet, have I?” he asked. He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, really, he did. But he thought of seeing Remelle at that damned party dressed in something far too suggestive with her arms around another man. She’d so perfectly moved on without a care in the world. And here he was, trapped in his own miserable past.

Aelin’s mouth pulled to one side. “Did Elide put you up to this somehow?”

“What? No.” Rowan shook his head. “Why would she?”

Instead of answering, Aelin stuffed her hands in her pockets and bounced on the balls of her feet. “I can’t tone down the personality, you know. This is who I am.”

“Alright,” Rowan said. At this point he didn’t care.

“Free food?” she asked.

“And drinks,” he confirmed.

“Well,” Aelin finally sighed. “I do love a good party.”

…

From that blustery day in November, straight until the Holiday Party in December—Rowan was on edge. Despite the fact of talking with Aelin every once and a while over text, he was still filled with utter dread about this whole thing. Being forced into a room of lights and music and socializing aside—he just didn’t know if he and Aelin would pull off being an actual couple.

When he’d told Lorcan and Elide about what happened, Lorcan laughed in his face while Elide tried the kinder route of oh, are you sure about this?

Suffice it to say that Rowan was fully expecting his own self destruction.

When the day of the party finally arrived, a Saturday, Rowan sent Aelin one last text to ensure she was still on board. She replied with a middle finger emoji and Christmas tree. A few seconds later she sent him her address and confirmed when he’d be there.

Rowan dressed in slacks and a dark green button-up, it really was the only shirt he had somewhat relating to Christmas colors. He didn’t bother with a tie, hoping that after a brief appearance he could leave with Aelin and they could breeze past this night without looking back.

The party was set to begin at seven, so giving himself a little over forty-five minutes, Rowan headed over to Aelin’s place. She lived fairly close to Elide and Lorcan, on the south side of the city that had a little more suburban feel than constant roadwork and city life. He found her apartment easily and had no question as to which door was hers.

Facing the inside of the complex, the door was lined with red and green lights, a holiday sign on the front step that sported a snowman, and plastic snowflakes dangled from hooks in the eaves of the stoop.

When Rowan knocked it took a few minutes before she answered, though, he wouldn’t begrudge her for it in the slightest. Not when he caught his first glimpse of her.

He’d known Aelin was attractive, beautiful really. But seeing her now stole the breath from his lungs. She wore a dress of shimmering gold fabric that fell to her knees, clinging to her curves perfectly. The swoop neck was modest, leaving enough skin on display to tantalize anyone who looked her way. Hair twisted to one side in a half-done twist, her elegant features were impossible to look away from.

Gone was the woman who wore outlandish holiday paraphernalia. Gone were the combat boots and jumpsuits. She was almost an entirely different person. It was a thought that left him a little unsettled. She’d said she wouldn’t change for him and he hadn’t expected or wanted her to.

“Rowan,” she greeted. Her smile was warm, playful. On one arm she had her thick wool coat, the other her purse.

“You look beautiful,” he told her. There was no way he could deny that and if it wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth, he’d probably never forgive himself.

Her smile broadened into a grin. “I know.”

She locked her apartment behind her and let him lead her to his truck. While the truck was old and had more than enough miles on it, Rowan couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it. It still ran well and he’d put enough work into it that it had new leather seats and even a somewhat updated stereo.

He opened the passenger door for Aelin before slipping over to the driver's side.

“I do appreciate this, Aelin,” he said as he pulled out onto the main road.

She shrugged. “Well, you really are a walking Hallmark movie waiting to happen, how could I say no?”

He shot her a look and she winked.

“Elide told me she would be there, I’ll sneak off with her if it gets too dull,” Aelin said, “that’ll free you up from whatever other gossip is circling about you.”

“There’s no gossip,” Rowan said.

It was a lie; he was sure elevators and lunch rooms were full of little commentaries on Rowan and Remelle. No one knew the truth, not really, only that it was Remelle who had dumped him. Not that Rowan really cared about that particular detail, just that there were some judging eyes following him around now. He could only imagine what Remelle herself had contributed to the whole mess of this.

He needed to change the conversation. “Not that you don’t look great, I was expecting something a little more…exuberant from you.”

“Would you like me to wear a Santa costume?” she drawled. “Please Rowan, I’m a grown woman. I know what is appropriate to wear to company parties, I’m not a kid or whatever you think of me. Though, I have to admit a Santa costume would require less spandex than this dress.”

That certainly put an image in his mind.

“That’s not,” Rowan cut himself off. Why bother denying it? He really had expected her to be in something bright red and decked out with cartoon figures.

“The truck is not what I expected from you, either,” she said. She fingered the wood carving that hung from the rearview mirror. “Mister Corporate Job in the city doesn’t have an SUV or sleek corvette?”

Rowan chuckled at that. It wasn’t the first time someone asked him about his choice in transportation. Fenrys had tried on multiple occasions to get something newer and Lorcan teased him whenever he had to get something fixed in the engine.

“This was my dad’s truck,” he admitted. The words were a strange admission to make. No one had ever really asked him about the truck because everyone who knew him also knew about his parents. “I helped him restore it all while growing up. When he and my mom died, I couldn’t get rid of it.”

“Oh,” Aelin murmured.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye and the array of thoughts flashing across her face. It was already dark outside that the only real look he got of her came from passing headlights or streetlamps. She looked like something out of a movie with her hair and lipstick, the thin gold earrings dangling nearly to her shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t know.”

“It happened a while ago,” Rowan said. “Besides, it’s not something I talk about.”

By the time they made it to the event hall for the party, Rowan was already wondering if he should just back out and take Aelin out for ice cream and pumpkin spice or whatever girls like her enjoyed.

Seeming to sense his hesitance, Aelin reached over and touched his arm as the approached the entrance.

“I won’t judge you if you want to leave,” she said. “Hell, just the fact you made it this far is impressive enough.”

Rowan sighed. “I have to do this. My boss’ll be here and supposedly going to parties is a part of my job description now.”

“Well,” Aelin said, linking her arm with Rowans. She raised a perfectly manicured brow and grinned. “I think we both deserve to get drunk on eggnog and eat our weight in cookies.”

There was no point in arguing with her, so Rowan let her pull him along and into what was sure to be his living nightmare.

The venue was located downtown in one of the older buildings that sported marble floors, glistening chandeliers, and plenty of wide-open windows that offered a look over a sprawling park. Terrasen was known for its hills and the fact that the streets were often on a difficult slope. It rendered plenty of opportunities for buildings such as this to have remarkable views over the city.

Perhaps Rowan could take comfort in the fact he could escape for a reprieve as needed. If not for the way everyone in the room seemed to turn to him and Aelin as they entered the room. Oh it was subtle, of course. The music was loud and there were still dwindling conversations that kept the room abuzz. But there was no mistaking the change in the room and slight looks that came his way.

Beside him, Aelin practically glowed. She easily slipped out of her coat and handed it to a waiting checker before she ushered Rowan further into the room. He should at least pretend. He should dig out that same frail mask he put on every day and let it take over. Maybe if it didn’t smell like cinnamon and spice and pine. Maybe if holiday music weren’t blaring overhead. Maybe if it actually felt like he was supposed to be enjoying himself. Maybe if, for whatever reason, he didn’t expect to see his parents out of the corner of his eye.

And then, as though a switch had been flicked, everything resumed as it had been. Eyes shifted away, conversation picked up, and Rowan felt a little tug of peace that he could act as himself.

“What kind of a marketing office is this?” Aelin muttered beside him. “It’s like Mean Girls in real life.”

Rowan snorted laugh and directed Aelin to the refreshments. “Everyone likes being in each other’s business. And…well Remelle hasn’t been to kind to me in our break-up.”

Aelin hummed as she selected a few treats. “You really do know how to pick them.”

“I hate the holidays,” Rowan said in response.

He chose a drink, wine by the looks of it, just as Nesryn approached. She wore a simple black dress highlighted with a gold choker necklace. Mingling behind her was her husband, Sartaq, who owned most of the stock trade of Terrasen.

“Rowan, you actually showed up,” Nesryn said looking him over. “And wearing green no less.”

“That was my idea.” Aelin, to Rowan’s horror, was not going to stand idly by tonight. Instead, she leaned into Rowan and grinned up at him with amusement burning in his eyes. “I told him he had to wear at least one festive thing tonight. It was either the shirt or the Rudolf tie I got him. He chose the shirt.”

“Of course I chose the shirt,” Rowan replied automatically, not knowing where exactly the words had come from. He had no idea if said Rudolf Tie existed, but he could only imagine. “That damn tie lights up.”

“That’s what makes it so great!” Aelin looked as though she were enjoying herself far too much and Rowan began seriously questioning what the hell he’d done by bringing her here.

“Nesryn, meet Aelin Galathynius,” Rowan said, “Nesryn, this is Aelin.”

Nesryn blinked in surprise before taking Aelin’s proffered hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad Rowan brought someone.”

He’d never thought Nesryn would be one to fall into the wiles of gossip, but with the way she appraised Aelin and nodded, smile of approval flashing across her mouth—he knew that she was privy to at least some of the rumors going around the office. What she thought of them Rowan had no idea. But with the nod and repeated pleasantries, maybe Nesryn was as on his side as she could be.

“Wow, is it a miracle or something that you’re being social?” Aelin asked him as Nesryn left.

Rowan ignored the question. “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll grab us some more drinks.”

With a pretty little smile that assured him of more teasing to come, Aelin straightened the lapel of his jacket and slipped away. When she was finally a few steps away, Rowan felt like he could breathe. Why had he brought her? He barely knew her outside of Elide and Lorcan. She was far too attractive for his own good. And he knew that something would go wrong tonight. It always did with this stupid season the desperate need for love and attention.

He watched Aelin blatantly disregard all the open seats and instead go to Elide who had just shown up with Lorcan. Elide looked good in a flowing dress of silver and blue, her hair falling in long curls. Lorcan, like him, looked miserable to be there.

As Aelin dragged Elide to one of the tables, Rowan felt a strange sense of relief at the small gesture. He didn’t know whether it was Aelin going to her friend for company, that he’d be surrounded by more people who actually liked him, or what.

Lorcan approached him with a muted curse. “How long do you think we have to stay?”

“You can leave whenever you want,” Rowan laughed, “you’ve got a baby at home.”

“Marion and Cal are babysitting,” Lorcan said, “if we go back to early and interrupt grandparent bonding time, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Ah. Elide’s parents were much like their daughter—stubborn, caring, and utterly infatuated with Tavish.

“I can’t believe you actually came with her,” Lorcan continued. He nodded to where Aelin and Elide were giggling madly over something, ignoring anyone and everyone that cast them strange looks. “Galathynius is a menace even on a good day.”

“It’s a long story,” Rowan sighed. One that he didn’t even know where to begin. Because if he tried to explain it to Lorcan he would have had to go into the fact that Aelin was unlike anyone Rowan knew. That she was the complete opposite of anyone he’d dated before. That she, somehow, had managed to actually crack a smile out of him for the first time in a long, long while.

…

Aelin was trying and failing to not burst out into another round of laughter as she and Elide sat at one of the tables of the event center. Whoever the party planner for the event was, had done a brilliant job at making everything tastefully lovely. With the hanging lights, silvery table cloths, simply holly table centers—it was a big money and high society event. One that Aelin would usually never have attended.

Back when her father had been alive, Evelin attended every party dutifully. Aelin only ever went when the even had been at a bowling alley and she could get away with wearing leggings. This was something different. And it was a little intimidating if she were being honest. This was a grown-up world. One where everyone actually finished college, had real jobs, and knew what they were doing with their lives.

“Okay, okay,” Elide giggled, stealing another cookie from the plate Aelin had loaded. “Seriously though, he’s being nice right? I’ll kick his ass if he isn’t.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. She had no doubt her friend could put Rowan in his place with just a look. “He’s a gentleman, Elide. Grumpy as ever, but yeah, nice.”

Really though, nice was not the word Aelin would use to describe Rowan.

“Well, even if he doesn’t say it,” Elide said, “he’s glad you’re here. He hates stuff like this. Doesn’t help that it’s a Christmas party. Or that Remelle will be here. I can’t believe she’s bringing a date. The bitch.”

Aelin paused as she fingered a cookie. Elide rarely swore. Oh she could manipulate words to insult someone perfectly, but blatant cursing like this was strange.

“Yeah, I met her a few weeks ago when Rowan asked me to be his date,” Aelin said. She then explained what had happened at the coffee shop and the way Rowan dragged her out into the chilly afternoon.

Elide snorted. “I’ve never liked that woman. Even before she cheated on him.”

“She what?” Aelin struggled to keep her voice low as she registered Elide’s words. Remelle had cheated on Rowan? And had the audacity to act the way she did?

“Oh,” Elide murmured. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

“Oh. Oh damn.” Elide winced. “Well, then I’m a terrible person. I shouldn’t have said anything. He’ll kill me for telling you that. I thought he would have given this whole mess.”

Aelin sat back in her seat and looked over her shoulder to where Rowan was still talking to Lorcan. Rowan appeared to be a little lighter as he talked with his friend, he stood relaxed and at ease, his usually harsh face softened just enough that Aelin could almost see a different side to him.

“Is that why he hates this time of year?” Aelin asked. She could understand that the holidays weren’t for everyone, but there had been something different about Rowan’s blatant hostility to anything Christmas related. Even when she tried to find the joy and fun in everything, some people had old wounds that ran deep.

Elide shifted in her seat, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Well, his parents died in December. It was years ago and he doesn’t talk about it much, but it’s always affected him for as long as I’ve known him.”

A pit formed in Aelin’s gut. She knew all too well what grief could do to someone. With careful scrutiny, she observed Rowan. His carefully styled hair, the neat button up, flashy watch on his wrist—she wondered what he might be like if he pulled down the walls he’d constructed around him. Would he be just as cold and bitter? Would he be softer, gentler?

She would never find out, however, not as Remelle chose that moment to show up. She was just as beautiful as the first time Aelin met her. She wore a black dress of lace that barely hit her knees, the deep drop of the neckline emphasized her well-endowed cleavage. Her blonde hair was swept in a sleek, high pony-tail that left her sharp cheekbones and narrow face on display. The man beside her wore a suit, a silver button up, and an unholy sneer that matched Remelle perfectly.

Aelin’s heart gave an unhealthy squeeze as Remelle’s eyes locked on Rowan and she made a b-line to him.

“Pray for me,” Aelin muttered, “I might have to kill a woman.”

She didn’t hear Elide’s response, though it sounded a great deal like encouragement.

Aelin knew she was attractive. She’d had past boyfriends that praised her for her looks (more than anything else about her, but that was a different issue altogether) and she had a friend that often called her up to have her model for stock photos in their portfolio. And while she was confident with herself--she couldn’t help but feel as though a knife were digging into her back at the sight of Remelle. Not just for the way she’d treated Rowan, but the haughty gaze she held over everyone she came in contact with.

As she approached where Remelle was already speaking with Rowan and Lorcan, Aelin wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Or do. She might end up making this even worse for Rowan. But she was already moving and knew she couldn’t back down now. She was never one to walk away from a problem in any case.

“You remember Cairn?” Remelle was saying, leaning all too closely into her date.

The look on Rowan’s face said that he had no trouble with remembering the other man. Even at a distance, Aelin could see his entire body tense and see the way his eyes shaded over with dissociation.

“Rowan,” Aelin said happily. She angled herself at his side so her back was to Remelle, hopefully blocking the woman out when he looked at her.

As if on instinct, one of his arms went around her and pulled her closer to his side. She tried not to think about the little thrill that went through her body at the way she practically molded against him. The hard planes of his body met each of her curves point for point and made Aelin already regret having to pull away from him when the time came.

“Aelin,” Rowan replied. His eyes narrowed as if already sensing that she was up to something. And she was. She had no idea what that would be, of course, but she would make something happen.

So, Aelin offered up a slow, dangerous smile as she turned to Remelle.

“Ronda! Oh, wait, no. It’s Remelle, sorry.” She tucked herself just a little closer to Rowa, giving his arm a quick squeeze. Whether an apology or assurance that she was there--she didn’t know. The other woman did not appear amused at all over Aelin’s antics and neither did the sneering Cairn with slicked hair and too polished suit. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Remelle’s eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised you managed to drag Rowan here. He’s never been one for Christmas.”

“We reached a compromise,” Aelin said sweetly, “he willingly participates in a Christmas activity and I willingly—”

Rowan’s hold tightened against her, cutting Aelin off with an oof.

“No,” he warned, eyes ablaze.

Cackling, Aelin only winked at him. When she returned her attention to Remelle, she was delighted at the hatred burning in the woman’s eyes.

“If you’ll excuse us, Rowan owes me a dance,” Aelin said. She then promptly pulled Rowan after, leaving the seething Remelle and Cairn behind.

The dance floor provided was nothing special. Aelin suspected that Nesryn or whoever has the control over the party’s set up never actually expected anyone to dance. But this was the best out of getting away from Remelle so Aelin took it.

They were soon joined by Lorcan and Elide and another couple though it certainly appeared the no one had actually expected any dancing.

“You really don’t believe in subtlety, do you?” Rowan asked as he pulled Aelin closer so they could dance instead of just standing there.

“I thought it was obvious from the beginning?” Aelin teased. Perhaps she should have just excused Rowan without the fanfare and just asked him to dance. Or even just ignored Remelle entirely and dragged Rowan away from her. Oh well. “Besides, I couldn’t miss the golden opportunity that so perfectly fell into my lap.”

“No,” Rowan seemed to reply automatically despite not knowing what she was talking about and Aelin just laughed.

Pointing up, she gestured to the string of lights overhead and the small sprig of mistletoe there.

“C’mon, Buzzard you promised one holiday related tradition, we can’t pass up the mistletoe.”

Rowan sighed as one hand curled around her waist. “She’s still watching, isn’t she?”

“She’s being very obvious about it,” Aelin said. “I hate to say it and hope it doesn’t sound as bad as I think it does—but you dodged a bullet with her. And she doesn’t deserve you.”

Rowan didn’t respond and Aelin worried she’d crossed a line or made things between them even more terrible than before. When she met his gaze, however, there was no animosity or cruelty there.

“You’re a menace,” he informed her.

Aelin grinned, noting the way the corners of his mouth twitched and how his lips pressed together. He was trying his damndest not to smile.

“Thank-you,” she said, “it is my greatest achievement to date.”

Rowan shifted, drawing one hand slowly up her side, skirting her hips and waist before gently running up to the curve of her neck. Could he feel how her heartbeat picked up with his touch? Could he hear the stutter of her breath as he tilted her chin up just a little bit?

He finally did break into a smile, something small and meant just for her as he dipped down to kiss her.

It was brief, bare, a whisper of a touch against her lips. But even that simple touch was enough to light a fire deep in Aelin’s belly and spread out through her entire body. He pulled away far sooner than Aelin would have liked, but dragging him back down to her would probably not be the best thing to do after everything else she’d put Rowan through that night.

“See?” Aelin whispered. “Some traditions aren’t so bad.”

Rowan rolled his eyes and spun Aelin in a simple dance move. She laughed and let herself enjoy what was left of the night.

…

There was something to be said about Aelin Galathynius, Rowan decided. Something that he couldn’t quite describe. She was someone who lived for herself and herself alone. She had a perpetual bout of joy surrounding her in everything she did, even when she was left alone at the party while Rowan went around to everybody in his department.

And despite the fact that he could feel Remelle’s eyes on him the entire time he moved around the party hall, he could rest easy on the fact that he wouldn’t be leaving with her. And that she hadn’t approached him once since Aelin’s not so subtle interlude. So, surprisingly enough, it had been a good night.

Still, as soon as the two-hour mark of their arrival approached, Aelin eased to his side and gave him a silent look that he had no trouble interpreting.

Do you want to leave?

Even if she was obsessed with the holidays, she was turning out to be one of his new favorite people.

After they left, Rowan promised Elide to bring her ice cream the next time he stopped by, they headed out along the near freezing streets to the truck.

“You take Elide ice cream?” Aelin asked.

Rowan chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. It was a cold night; the sky was overcast with the threat of snow. His breath condensed in a pale fog when he spoke next.

“I lost a round of poker with her a few months ago,” Rowan explained, “and instead of taking my money, she wanted unlimited access to ice cream for the rest of the year.”

“Sounds like her,” Aelin laughed. She tilted her face up to the sky as if she too could sense the impending snow. The street lights danced off her face, illuminating her soft smile. “She once tricked me into a cheesecake tasting contest. Turns out that she just had mad cravings when she was pregnant.”

They remained in comfortable silence as they returned to the truck—Rowan helped Aelin into the passenger side before getting in himself. There was a single thought nagging him, but he didn’t know if he should even bother bringing it up.

When they were just a few minutes out from Aelins, he let the question slip.

“Elide told you about what happened with Remelle, didn’t she?” He didn’t look over at her, knowing that couldn't handle the pity that was sure to be in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” was all Aelin said.

They drove in silence, heading back outside the city to Aelin’s little apartment. It wasn’t long until it started raining. Though, as the droplets splattered against the windshield, Rowan noted how thick it was coming down. Soon enough, there would be snow.

When Aelin spoke again, there was a far-off note to her voice. “My last boyfriend made me pay for everything, just because I made extra cash teaching piano lessons. Then, when my dad got sick and I dropped out of school, he dumped me. Apparently, I was abandoning him. For my own father.”

“He sounds like an ass,” Rowan commented mildly.

“Oh, he is. Sam Cortland doesn’t have a chivalrous bone in his body,” Aelin said.

Even though she laughed, Rowan could still hear the vapid bite to her words.

“And your dad?” he asked.

“He passed, just barely a year now.”

Snow fell outside, whipping by as Rowan drove. The trucks headlights illuminated the road and made the stream of white flakes dance with light. It was strangely beautiful, the change of scenery. Even if he hated this time of year—snowfall added something different to the world. Unlike rain that fell in sheets and doused everything in gray; snow offered a fresh blanket of newness. It was a simple, subtle change, but Rowan appreciated it.

“My parents died right around the time I turned eighteen,” Rowan said. He didn’t know why he was telling her; they barely knew each other. “On Christmas Eve.”

Aelin cursed beside him. He felt, more than saw, her shift to look at him. He felt her eyes on him. Felt the way she seemed to reexamine everything about him.

“Well,” she said, “I suppose I can’t begrudge you for hating this time of the year anymore then.”

Rowan shook his head, unable to help a small chuckle.

“My mother would be mad at me,” Rowan admitted. He pulled off from the highway. They were getting close to Aelin’s place. “She loved the holidays and loved collecting traditions. Anything to make this time of year happier. We’re a small family and I think she just wanted a little bit more…flare to the season.”

“I don’t think she’d be mad,” Aelin said. “Maybe sad or hopeful. Sad that this time of the year isn’t the same, hopeful that you're still here. But, Rowan, it’s miserable being alone. It’s the damned worst. Especially when there’s no one we can really be with, that understands us. Instead we have to pretend, because who in their right mind would hate the Holidays?”

Rowan pulled up along her apartment. The snow still fell. Streetlamps illuminated the night as flakes passed in a relentless flurry.

“I mean,” Aelin continued as if she didn’t notice they’d reached her place, “I don’t want to go through the holidays. I don’t want to endure Christmas dinner without my dad. I don’t want to tell everyone I had such a great holiday season. I don’t want to lie and tell everyone I’m fine. But it’s what we do to make everyone else feel better.”

“So you dress up in red jumpsuits and reindeer stockings,” Rowan said. He finally caught Aelin’s eye and she barked out a laugh.

“If I didn’t, I’d be forced to talk about it with someone,” she replied.

Rowan too had to laugh at that. How many times had a well-meaning friend tried to get him to talk when he wasn’t ready? Or insist he just suck it up and be in a good mood?

“Let me walk you to your door,” he said. He jumped out of the truck and hurried over to her side. The ground was already covered with a thin layer of snow and would only collect more. Aelin’s shoes did not seem to be the most functional in weather like this, but he wouldn’t dare say anything.

Still, she navigated the slushy sidewalk and the small steps up to her door quite well.

“Thank-you,” Rowan said, “for tonight and the cafe with Remelle. I appreciate you doing this for me.”

Aelin, with that breathtaking beauty of hers, tilted her head and smiled. A few errant curls fell from their pins and there was a smudge of mascara beneath one eye. Rowan hardly noticed, didn’t care at all, as long as she fixed him with that look.

She rose up onto her toes and kissed his cheek softly. “Thank-you for the night.”

And then she pulled away, unlocking her apartment. Good, he needed that space between them. Needed that cool, biting air to blow up around him. He stepped down from her little porch to head back to his truck.

“Rowan,” she said slowly. He paused, turning back to her. A wave of warmth flooded over him from her open apartment door. “I hope you never taste a single bit of cinnamon or pumpkin the rest of this year.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “Good night, Aelin.”

“Buzzard,” she said. And the smile she gave him was enough to keep him warm the rest of the night.

...

tags

@morganofthewildfire // @aelinchocolatelover // @sexy-dumpster-fire // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @fangirlprincess09 // @highladysith // @tillyrubes10 // @bri-loves-sunflowers // @rowaelinismyotp // @sheharahu // @1islessthan3books // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @vanzetanze // @jlinez // @foughtconquered // @thenerdandfandoms // @acciowests // @cassianscool // @thegreyj // @acourtofsjmtrash // @story-scribbler // @hellasblessed // @rowaelin-cressworth // @jesstargaryenqueen // @amoretheiwa // @jorjy-jo // @danibutterr @live-the-fangirl-life // @foreverfallingforthestars // @strangevil321 // @pastasiren // @beanco8 // @whimsicallyreading // @infernoqueen19 // @mis-lil-red // @lemonade-coolattas // @themoonthestarsthesuriel // @scribbled-semantics // @realbookloverproblems // @ghostlyrose2 // @rainbowcheetah512 // @tanvee1231 // @bri-loves-sunflowers // @captain-swan-is-endgame // @mystic-bibliophile // @cretaceous-therapod // @swankii-art-teacher // @thisloveseternal // @gracie-rosee // @bananaanna23 // @goddess-aelin // @liars-lmao // @emily-gsh // @rowaelinrambling //

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #elorcan #rowaelin au #modern au #prompts #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #fanfiction #aelin and rowan #aelin x rowan #rowaelin month

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elettraml · 1 year

Text

𝑨𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑹𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒏

Keeping on with my fantasy books' couples fanart! Here we have my Aelin and Rowan's version ✨

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sarcasticbookdragon · 19 days

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Her turmoil is my joy at this point

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mariaofdoranelle · 1 year

Text

Look at Us Now — Ch. 3

Fic Masterlist

Sorry I ghosted last week! This chapter is (unintentionally) twice the usual size, though, so I’m forgiving myself. It’s a bit of a rollercoaster, just remember that it’ll get worse before it gets better.

Warnings: NSFW, cursing, mentions of bullying, anxiety attack, bitter exes.

Word count: 5,9k

Aelin’s whole body startled before she gained consciousness of what was going on.

She didn’t know what woke her up, her classmate’s hurried taps or Rowan’s intense eyes on her.

The last thing she remembered was one sergeant telling their next instructor couldn’t make it, so they’d have an hour free. Aelin had woken up at 3 am to study Military Law today, so she thought it’d be a good idea to set a timer for 50 minutes and take a nap.

Rowan‘s class was scheduled for later, what the fuck was he doing here this soon?

His gaze lingered on her for a beat that felt like a month. Maybe like the month and a half since that night. Then it landed on the guy in front of Aelin.

"What happened with your beard?" Was the first thing he said. His voice alarmed the whole class, it sounded like a threat one is barely trying to hide.

Aelin couldn't see the recruit’s expression, but she had a good view of the way his shoulders tensed. He looked around. "I- um-"

"Don't look around, look at me!" Rowan shouted, making many eyes go wide. "What the fuck happened to your beard!?"

"The- the razor was a little dull, so I-"

But Rowan wasn't listening. Probably because he didn't care.

No, he was slowly, threatengly walking around to examine each person in the room and pointing out the ones with something wrong about their uniform. Anything, really. He must have a hawk eyesight to notice some of the mistakes he pointed out.

He looked angry, she thought. Aelin didn’t know which state was the class when he walked in, since everyone was already frozen in place when she woke up.

When the people he selected were out of their perfectly aligned rows, Rowan crossed his arms and roared, "ON THE FLOOR, NOW!"

A few jumped to a plank position, ready to start. Others just stared, gawking.

Rowan rested his hands on his hips and stood face to face with one person who didn't move.

"Did I fucking stutter? ON. THE. FLOOR. NOW!"

Everyone followed suit this time, so he started to count.

"One, two, three, four..."

He stopped counting when he noticed someone in the wrong position. He was not in a straight line, so his butt was sticking out. Aelin held on a grimace while Rowan was going his way.

"Do you call that a push-up?"

On the man's side, Rowan's boot pressed against his low back to correct his position.

"How do you expect to be in the Air Force if you can't to a fucking push-up!?" He barked at no one in particular. "The body stays in one line." He poked at someone's arm with his boot, only enough to bring attention. "And watch those elbows! You're not a frog!"

He was still looking around, searching for any flaw in those push-ups. "Pathetic," he spat. "Spineless and pathetic." Rowan rested his foot on another person's back and announced, "I'm starting again! Until y'all stop training like teenagers! One, two, three..."

Aelin could only blink, trying to process this.

Then she forced herself to snap out of that shock. Her great-uncle was a brigadier, for Mala's sake. She knew better than to be surprised. Besides, what did she expect? A little love letter from hot lieutenant saying that he also couldn't forget their night together? Absolutely not.

If Aelin was there to learn the basics of military life until she could work at the hospital, so be it. She was going to kick basic training's ass.

"But we can't keep all the fun to ourselves, right?" Rowan snarled. He looked around the ones with the correct uniform, that kept only watching chaos unfold. "Everyone else on the floor!” He restarted counting, ”One, two, three..."

She was so ready for this. She'd absolutely nail this.

Except that it didn't take long for her to grow annoyed at Rowan's voice counting and barking orders non-stop.

And after Mala knows how long, Aelin came to one conclusion.

She was so fucked.

That was the only thing in her mind as she trained. Even when she felt like her lungs would give out or her legs would soon turn to ashes, Rowan’s scolding was still flawlessly echoing through her ears.

When he wrapped things up, her shoulders almost dropped in relief. They would, if Rowan wouldn’t give her a hard time about posture. This class was longer than usual because he was using the missing instructor’s time along with his own. Also because she started feeling like dying around the fourth minute of so, so many.

“Who’s today’s class leader?” He asked before dismissing everyone.

Aelin’s spine went rigid. Every day, a different recruit was picked to be the class leader. They said it was to learn about leadership and how to cooperate together. In practice, it basically meant she’d lead the class while marching.

Everyone looked at Aelin, and she raised an arm. “It’s me, sir.”

Rowan sighed, as if he couldn’t believe he had to deal with her more than he was obligated to.

“You have 15 minutes to show up at my office.”

Which meant she had 15 minutes to get her things, take a shower, get in another uniform and find his office.

She did it in 13 minutes, though.

Rowan’s office was simple and neat, but at least the chairs were comfortable. After she knocked and he told her to come in, silence took over. They sat one in front on the other, the only sound in the room being Aelin testing the squeak of the chair by repeatedly leaning against it. Annoyingly, by the stiff expression Rowan wore.

“I think you already know what I’m going to say to you.”

She shrugged. “You’ll tell me to pretend it never happened?”

“Excuse me?” His tone was sharper than she predicted. Was he that eager to fuck her again?

Aelin leaned back and suppressed a smile when the chair squeaked again. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind a round two, but I understand that things just got complicated.”

Oh, she definitely wouldn’t mind hitting that again. Besides, she’d work at the hospital in ten weeks. It’s not like they’d need to see each other every day after.

He sighed. “I’m talking about what just happened, Aelin. You were today’s class leader.”

Aelin frowned. “Which means I’m in charge of the drill commands while marching—“

“It means you have to lead them throughout the day. When there’s no instructor, you don’t just take a nap and let everyone run wild!”

When she crossed her arms and glared, trying to think of a retort, Rowan looked up for a second and took a deep breath.

“I know you must struggle being one of the few women in your class, but—“

“Struggle?” She cut in, eyebrows raised. ”Why would I struggle?”

“It’s a common issue among female officers—“

“That’s not an issue, sir.“ Aelin leaned closed and lowered her tone of voice. “I’m more alpha than most of these men, you probably know that already.”

“Then act like it.“ He didn’t look impressed.

Aelin got up and slowly rounded his desk, until she was standing on Rowan’s side. “You’d really like that, wouldn’t you?”

He looked at her up and down, swallowed, then looked away a second too late. “That’s inappropriate behavior, Galathynius.“

Positioned between him and his desk, she tilted her head. “And what? You’re gonna punish me?”

“I’m not afraid to,” he immediately answered, but his tone had an edge to it.

Aelin’s eyes sparkled. She had no idea if he was answering to her innuendo or talking about her relations to his superiors, but she was horny enough to jump to conclusions. She knew he was hesitant, though.

Anything happening between them wouldn’t be exactly against the rules, even though it would be frowned upon.

But having sex inside a military base? They’d be fucked if anyone found out.

Aelin was beyond caring by now, and she had a suspicion Rowan was holding tight to whatever shreds of conscience he had.

She held both hands on the desk behind her, thrusting her chest out. Rowan’s gaze was shameless as it burned through her, his eyes darkening every inch. He looked at her as if he remembered everything she had under that uniform, and just the thought of it made her press her legs together.

“You know, I thought it’d be easier to get you to fuck me after you got your cock that deep into my throat.”

When Rowan finally looked into her eyes, she knew she’d won. He placed a hand on her knee and caressed the inner part with his thumb, but it was enough to send a spark through her body.

“Can I touch you?” He quietly asked. However, the intense look on his green eyes betrayed the strained politeness on his tone of voice.

How gentlemanly of him. Didn’t even sound like the man who climbed her uncle’s fence to fuck her until dawn.

“Oh, you definitely can’t.” Aelin had a triumphant grin on. “But I want you to.”

Rowan’s eyes combusted into hers, and her smile grew. In that millisecond, Aelin knew she had just ripped off his conscience with her teeth.

He got up from that chair in a swift motion, standing just one breath away from her.

“Let’s see how much you want me,” he taunted before taking her pants and panties down all at once, so roughly one button flew away.

Without wasting a second, he inserted two fingers between her folds and plunged in, making her choke a sob. Rowan’s thumb started working on her clit to soothe her from that sudden move, but he scooted closer and whispered, “You were already soaked when I started, baby. I could put a third finger and you wouldn’t even feel it.”

Aelin whimpered. He made her taste herself in his fingers, then kissed her when she licked his index and middle finger the way she’d to another member of his. Rowan cradled her head in a commanding, bruising kiss. He kissed like he could unravel her whole with his lips. He kissed her like he thought he’d never see her again. Aelin pressed her hips against his, moaning, and he moved his mouth to the shell of her ear.

“Were you thinking about me?”

Aelin nodded.

“Use your words, baby. Were you thinking about me?”

She looked deep into his eyes, smirking like the devil. “Yes, sir.”

Rowan’s gaze burned into her while he brought his hand to her neck, squeezing just enough to make her ache for him even more. “Is that why you came to my office begging for my cock like the little slut you are?”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered.

Before she could think, he turned her around and pressed her against his desk, laying on her stomach with her ass up. The sound of his zipper was the only warning she got before Rowan pushed himself inside her all the way, stretching her whole in one swift motion.

Aelin cried out, cursing. It was the most delicious kind of pain.

He gave her a few seconds to adjust and muffled her cries with his hand, probably afraid someone would hear from the outside.

She bit his hand to speak when he started on a languid pace, but Rowan spanked her ass before she could open her mouth. The pain from that smack spread under her skin, making her wiggle her hips against him even more.

“Don’t bite me,” he warned.

“But you loved it last time.”

He gave one ruthless thrust as a warning, and that sweet ache made her sob. God, she loved Rowan’s punishments.

“Condom,” she rasped, finally remembering what she was going to say.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back until he was close to her ear. “I don’t bring condoms to work, baby. You think I fuck every slut that comes into my office?”

Rowan started thrusting in a merciless rhythm, making Aelin’s legs shake.

Aelin did a mental note to see on her period app if she needed to take a Plan B pill. These things were hormone bombs, but she wasn’t on birth control. She had mostly stopped sleeping around after uni, and Dorian has a vasectomy. These days, the only reason Aelin even used condoms was to prevent STDs.

When Rowan hit a spot that made her see stars, Aelin relaxed on the desk and let herself be fucked senseless by him, relishing on the sound of their hips snapping together and his low grunts.

Of all the times people had reckless sex, how many actually led to a baby?

Exactly.

And knowing Aelin’s luck, she knew things would turn out her way. They always did.

***

The shade of Rowan’s hair never let Aelin know which strands were in its natural shade, and which ones were grayer because of Maisie. Or work. Maybe Aelin herself.

The dark circles under his eyes weren’t that static, though. Over time, she had seen them go from almost invisible to a purplish shade that didn’t sit well with his tan skin. Aelin always thought it was a shame seeing a face like his looking so worn out. But today? Today it looked like exhaustion itself had beaten him up from the outside in, not the other way around.

Aelin knew she should keep their interactions to a minimum, but she couldn’t help herself.

“You look like shit, Rowan.”

”Gee, thanks.”

Aelin wriggled in her seat, knowing she should keep her mouth shut. It did nothing to stop her.

“Elide was grouchy today. She said you’re ruining her sex life.”

He laughed, but there was a bitter edge to it. “How so?”

Aelin fully turned to him from the passenger side. “Were you really watching a recorded livestream about ADHD until late with Lorcan last night?”

He opened his mouth to retort, then closed again. A moment later, he said, “In my defense, now I’m convinced she doesn’t have it. And Lorcan thought it was enlightening.”

“Ellie’s a psychiatrist, Rowan. If any of the kids were showing signs of it, she would tell—“

“Is she willing to give me an hour-long lesson about it? Because the Instagram doctor—“

“Rowan, are you listening to yourself?”

“What?” He snapped.

“Do you know what I do every time you send me an article about diabetes in children?”

“You read it?”

“No. I give her ice cream.”

He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not. I fill her pink unicorn bowl with chocolate ice cream, and I enjoy it.”

He clenched his jaw. “You know damn well my dad’s diabetic—“

“You’ll drive yourself fucking insane if you keep this way, Rowan,” she barked. “This is my weekend with Maisie. Do you at least have plans to take fucking a nap?”

Rowan stopped at a red light and narrowed his eyes at her. “I have walls to fix.”

Aelin sighed. “You can’t let her draw on every wall you own.”

“She’s expressing herself through art.”

“You did not just say that.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! You’re just an engineer who traumatizes young people for a living, of course that line came out of your mouth.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Okay, I heard it from a pediatrician. Happy now?”

When she saw the school’s front, Aelin knew she had to wrap this up quick.

“And not Maisie’s pediatrician, because—“

“Because it was from one of the pediatricians I follow online! What is your point?”

“My point—“ Aelin stopped herself when her voice got too loud. She took a deep breath and started again, in a calmer tone. “My point is that you can’t know everything about every specialty child-related just in case your one kid needs it. You can’t be Maisie’s dad 24/7.”

“But I am Maisie’s dad 24/7.”

“When was the last time you talked to Lorcan about something that wasn’t kid-related?” She tried a different approach. When Rowan opened his mouth, she added, “Doesn’t count if it happened while you were watching the kids.”

He shut his mouth and didn’t answer.

She knew it.

When was the last time you went on a date?, was on the tip of her tongue, just to finish proving her point, but Aelin didn’t dare say it out loud.

Her guess would be at least last year, from one time she caught Fenrys trying to play cupid, but it probably wasn’t serious. Their rule was that they’d have to meet the other person before Maisie, but it hasn’t happened yet. For neither of them.

Rowan parked his car, quiet as a mouse. Deep down, he knew he was overexerting himself. And it wasn’t Aelin’s job to worry about him, but she had learned the hard way how important it was to take care of herself so she could take good care of Maisie. Their daughter was the only reason she was concerned. It’s not like Aelin would care about her ex-fling from five years ago. Absolutely not.

Aelin frowned when Maisie came their way with a different change of clothes. It was the second time since starting preschool, and she never peed herself at home. She remembered her daughter always complained about going to school, and wondered if she should start sending Maisie with pull-ups until she finished adapting to that new environment.

After Maisie greeted them both, Rowan crouched and asked, “What happened to Fleetfoot, Mais?”

Aelin’s eyebrows shot up. Fleetfoot was a golden plastic dog Maisie made Rowan buy at a 99 cents store, but she loved it more than many of the expensive toys her family showered her with. She took that miniature puppy everywhere.

Maisie raised her hand and looked at Fleetfoot. Half of its plastic tail was missing, and just the sight of it made her lips wobble and brought moisture to her big green eyes. Rowan immediately hugged her and started soothing his daughter, but Aelin looked around, searching for the teacher’s assistant that always stood outside.

Something was off, and Aelin would find out no matter what.

The TA looked frightened all the time and followed the teacher like a puppy, so it wasn’t hard to get information out of her.

And when Aelin did, she saw red.

She stormed through that school until she found the teacher, Lieutenant Maeve Valg, in a corridor close to the entrance.

“Inside,” Aelin growled and pointed to the empty classroom near them.

The only response was a raise of her eyebrows, somewhere between surprise and scorn, and entering to sit behind the teacher’s desk.

Aelin followed her and banged the door closed. She rested both hands on the table and leaned to get closer and look deep into Mrs. Valg’s eyes, her own slightly bulged. She could feel her blood pumping through her veins like her heart was on steroids, and if looks could kill, that fucking teacher would be on her grave already.

“Tell me why my daughter’s toy is broken.”

She leaned back in the chair, and Aelin felt like that woman’s dark eyes were reading into her soul. “Looks like you already know.”

“I want to hear it from your mouth.” Aelin’s nostrils flared.

The teacher tilted her head, assessing. “I see where Maisie gets that terrible behavior from.”

They were interrupted by the door abruptly being opened and slammed closed. Rowan stood there with crossed arms and eyes darting between the two of them. His glare was so sharp it could cut ice.

Lieutenant Valg sighed in what looked like relief. “Mr. Whitethorn, could you please make—“

“It’s Captain Whitethorn to you,” he commanded in a taut tone.

Aelin didn’t know if the TA told him what happened as well or if he just read too much into the room’s energy, but Rowan seemed pissed. He never used his high rank on people like this.

She glued her eyes back on the teacher and slapped the desk, then immediately pointed at Rowan. “Tell him why Maisie wet herself,” Aelin shouted.

Mrs. Valg held her chin high, but didn’t say a thing.

“I’m waiting, Lieutenant,” he said in a carefully controlled tone and walked closer to them.

His patience seemed to end when his request was met with silence.

“Do I need to remind you again that I outrank you, Lieutenant?” Rowan shouted, making Maeve’s eyes go wide. “If you don’t tell me what happened now, I’m putting you under restriction at the guardhouse, do you understand?”

Mrs. Valg paled, but she was still grinding her teeth together, shooting daggers at Rowan with her eyes. The guardhouse was basically jail, but for petty crimes inside the military. It was the biggest punishment someone could get before being kicked out.

“Your daughter is a little nightmare!” She spit out. “Every other kid was ready for nap time, and she wouldn’t stop playing with that stupid dog! I warned her one, two, three times, then I grabbed that ugly thing and threw across the room.” Mrs. Valg got up, her eyes jumping between Aelin and Rowan. “And then Maisie peed, but you think I enjoy sending my TA to clean the kids every time? It’s not my fault your daughter has a bad bladder,” she spat.

Aelin’s eyes grew with each sentence. When the teacher ended, the only thing she could hear was the muderous thoughts in her head and the pounding in her ears. She felt like her body was slowly being taken over by rage and the hammering flow of her pulse.

“Aelin, could you give me five minutes with Mrs. Valg and come back with Maisie, please?”

“Why—“

Rowan’s gaze was so intense it rendered Aelin speechless. His pine green eyes were being ruled by raw, cold fury, and it looked terrifying framed by all the blood that made his face look crimson. “We’re going to have a little chat, and then she’s going to apologize,” he slowly explained in a deadly tone. There was no arguing with the way he said it, and as much as Aelin wanted to scream and fight and pour all her anger into the teacher, Rowan was the one who could actually do something about what happened. He was a captain, after all.

Maisie was on the playground near the entrance, with a few other kids. Aelin quickly checked on her and if her daughter knew about the shitshow currently going on, she didn’t show.

Aelin never understood why Rowan didn’t want Maisie to be in the free preschool the Air Force provided for them, five minutes away from home.

She understood now.

Aelin’s throat closed when she remembered his words from one of the arguments they had about this. “I teach these Lieutenants myself, Aelin. I don’t trust Maisie around them.”

Her chest started feeling a little too tight, and she took a deep breath to recompose herself.

This was absolutely her fault.

There was no use in crying at the school playground, though.

On the way back to the classroom, Aelin was ready to go back if she heard screaming—there was no way she’d let Maisie see that—but the only sign that something had happened was the quiet whispers outside the classroom, and two people not so casually peering through the window.

If something exploded in there, Rowan kept his promise of doing it for five minutes only.

He looked absolutely unhinged, though. And the teacher looked white as a sheet, the armpits of her uniform sweaty.

Noticing the weird energy of the room, Maisie stiffened. “What’s going on?”

When Rowan heard his daughter’s voice, his whole demeanor changed. He didn’t relax, but still crouched on the floor and ran his fingers through one of her pigtails. “We were talking to Mrs. Valg about what happened today. She’s going to apologize for being disrespectful and hurting Fleetfoot.”

Maisie didn’t say a thing.

Neither did Mrs. Valg

“Seven days,” Rowan prompted.

Maeve’s jaw clenched.

“Fifteen days.”

She drew in a sharp breath.

“Twenty days.”

She swallowed.

Of, fuck. Was this how many days she was spending locked up in the guardhouse?

“Thirty—“

“I apologize.” Maeve spit out, eyes focused on Maisie.

The little girl took one step to the side and looked at her dad, but wouldn’t meet his eye. “It’s not Mrs. Valg’s fault,” the little girl quietly explained, ”I was being a bad kid.”

Aelin didn’t even register Maeve’s lips curling up, she dropped on her knees to talk to Maisie. Immediately. She didn’t know how to explain to a four-year-old that in this case she was expected to mess up, but not the teacher, but she would try until—

“Aelin?”

“What?” Aelin’s head snapped towards Rowan. He was sitting on the chair, clutching his chest. Oh, fuck.

“I might be having a heart attack.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

His eyes bulged, aimed at Aelin’s. “Do I need to call my ambulance myself?”

Aelin’s heart plummeted. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She called the hospital’s front desk as she got the car keys from Rowan’s pocket.

“Hi, this is Dr. Galathynius. I’m coming with a patient. I need a heart team by the side entrance in five minutes.”

˜˜

Dr. Cortland stared at Rowan’s exams with furrowed brows. “I don’t see anything.”

“Try harder.”

Aelin gave Rowan her mom look. She said with her eyes, Could you try to be polite?

He answered her look with another of his own. No. Can we see another doctor?

Aelin sighed and waited while Sam finished looking at Rowan‘s exams. He was still grouchy because of the situation at Maisie’s school, that was the only explanation. There was no way he could’ve known about the brief relationship she had with Sam a year ago.

“Nope,” Dr. Cortland concluded. “Your heart is looking so good you could even join the military.”

Rowan didn’t laugh.

“Maybe there’s something going on at work or at home?” Sam’s gaze slid to Aelin, a bitter smile on his lips. “How’s Maisie?”

Rowan gripped the arms of his chair. He growled, “Do you know her?”

“Can’t say I do, no.”

Aelin’s nostrils flared. Their relationship started going downhill when he asked to meet Maisie. Her daughter was very easygoing, but as a rule, she’d need to introduce him to Rowan first. Nope. Sam wanted too much too fast, and he never truly understood how hard it is to date as a single mom.

Rowan leaned back on his seat, but Aelin couldn’t say he was relaxed.

Dr. Cortland hummed. “Do you think there’s a chance this could be related to anxiety?”

“Absolutely not.”

Aelin tried not to cringe. Knowing Rowan, she wouldn’t discard anxiety that easily. But what does she know? Aelin fixed bones, anxiety was Elide’s specialty.

She politely dismissed herself, wanting to give Rowan privacy to discuss this with Sam. Actually, she didn’t even know what she was doing in that office. She brought him to the hospital and went with the flow, not even thinking that maybe she should have stayed back. The only doctors she needed to see with him were the ones who had Maisie as a patient, but Aelin didn’t think about that in the heat of the moment.

When she finally reached the conference room, Maisie was drawing with the intern Elide borrowed her for babysitting duty. The poor thing.

Her daughter looked up with big, expectant eyes when Aelin approached. “How’s Daddy’s heartbeep?”

“It’s good. Your dad’s fine.” A pause. “And it’s heartbeat,” she corrected.

Maisie frowned. “That’s what I said.”

The stubborn little thing. For the first time in a while, Aelin felt like smiling. Until she remembered the conversation wasn’t over.

“Do you know that feeling when you get scared and your heart beats really fast?”

Maisie solemnly nodded. “Like when Uncle Aedion lets me go on the big slide at the pool.”

“He does what?”

Maisie’s eyes widened. “Let’s talk about Daddy.”

Aelin sighed. She had no idea how to explain an anxiety attack to a kid.

“The doctor said he’s good, Mais. He was probably just feeling scared.”

Her daughter chewed on her lip and nodded, understanding. “Daddy never does scary things. It must be confusing for him.”

Aelin let out a soft, watery chuckle and kissed Maisie’s forehead. “That’s right, baby.”

“Not a baby!” Her daughter complained.

After Rowan was done and Aelin thanked Elide’s intern for babysitting, they had one of the quietest car rides she’d ever witnessed.

Aelin still drove to her house, but when Rowan got off his car just to go back in and drive away, Maisie watched the path he went with a longing gaze.

“I want to go with Daddy.”

Aelin crouched by her daughter’s side. “You’ve already spent last weekend with him, Mais.”

“But what if he gets sick again?” She mused with furrowed brows.

Scratching her forehead, Aelin sighed.

Rowan would be alone at home, no Maisie to keep him up. He’d think. He’d worry. He’d create worst-case scenarios for every consequence of this day.

“You want to spend the night at your dad’s and come back tomorrow morning?”

Maisie nodded, her eyes eager.

“Then go pick some toys to take there, okay?”

She rushed to her room without question, leaving Aelin a small window to pack two bags. One for Maisie, another for herself. She wouldn’t keep Maisie here worrying about her dad, but what if something really happened to Rowan while he was alone with Maisie? Fuck, no.

Aelin’s pack was a lot simpler than Maisie’s. Something to sleep on, her toothbrush. She could survive one night without her skincare routine. Her gaze landed on a little box on a tall shelf.

She grabbed a tissue and enveloped two pills in it. One sleeping pill and the antidepressant tablet she needed to take with breakfast. It wasn’t a big deal, and her depressive episodes only got easier to deal with time. She just didn’t want Rowan—or a judge—finding out about it. She had seen parents losing custody for a lot less.

Not that she thought Rowan would take her to court anytime soon. In fact, he was adamant that they didn’t need lawyers when they first decided to co-parent Maisie.

But Aelin had very little room for mistakes when it came to her daughter. Besides, Rowan did criticize her parenting on a daily basis.

For now, everything was under control. He doesn’t care about her, and it doesn’t affect Maisie. There was no need for him to know about her antidepressants.

Aelin still waited a little longer to go. Maisie liked taking her time picking her toys.

Just like her dad, the intrusive thought came as quickly as it went away.

She grabbed Maisie’s hand and they went by foot. Rowan lived so close it wasn’t even worth it to get a bike, he was always one small block away.

Aelin tried to open his door, but it was locked. She frowned.

They lived in a military housing complex, right next to the Air Force base. Who the hell locked doors here? This was the safest it could get.

Rowan appeared a second later, and the confused look she saw him wearing through the window was almost comical.

“What’s going on?”

Aelin shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Just making sure Mais doesn’t become half-orphan.”

He shifted on his feet. “You don’t have to.” Something charged passed behind Rowan’s eyes. Aelin looked away.

“I know.” She swallowed and entered the house a second later, without invitation. It wasn’t her job to read into Rowan’s feelings, so she wouldn’t.

The first thing Aelin did was go into Fenrys’ old room and put the bedsheets she brought from home. He moved out years ago, so it meant only half of the STDs this bed used to have were still lingering. It’d have to do.

She found them in the kitchen, Rowan gathering supplies while Maisie painted her coloring book at the other end of the table.

Aelin grabbed the first knife she saw and pointed at him. Rowan didn’t look surprised.

“Sit.”

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I would, but I’m not mentally ready to dine a microwave meal.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes. She knew about all the drowsiness and fatigue that came after an anxiety attack. Rowan should be resting, not playing chef.

“I can use a pan,” she spit out, then looked at his pans. For fuck’s sake, why did he have so many? Aelin picked one she didn’t know the exact purpose, but would do. “This one, for example, is perfect for making pasta. I’m making pasta tonight.”

When Rowan opened his mouth, Maisie beat him to it.

“Mommy.”

Both of them turned to her.

“I think we should let Daddy make dinner,” she politely insisted in a matter-of-fact tone.

Aelin’s jaw went slack.

Did she just say Rowan makes better dinner? In her face?

By the triumphant grin he wore, Maisie did.

”You can cut the vegetables,” he offered.

Aelin squinted her eyes and sat on the table, begrudgingly accepting the role of sous-chef.

Silence took over, and she couldn’t stop thinking about what happened today. That bully teacher. Rowan going to the hospital. She swallowed a lump in her throat. It was her fault.

Aelin was stubborn, but she’d be damned if she’d let her little girl go near that teacher ever again.

“Maisie?”

Her daughter hummed.

“There’s this other school your Aunt Sellene told your dad about. I was thinking we should take a look there on Monday. We could go to Skull’s Bay when we’re done.”

The pirate-themed restaurant she loved to go to. She looked at Rowan to see if he looked mad that she decided this without telling him, but his eyes looked soft. There was even a tiny tilt in the corner of his lip.

That wasn’t Maisie’s reaction, though.

“I don’t need school.”

Just like that, Rowan’s soft moment ended.

“And why’s that?” He demanded, arms crossed.

Their daughter dropped her colored pencil and fully turned to her dad. “Because I’m a smartie about everything.” A pause. “Duh!”

Rowan clamped his lips together, trying to keep a straight face, and Aelin’s reaction was pretty much the same. If they laughed, Maisie would think she won this argument.

Aelin took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, and thought of a good argument to beat this one.

“You’re right, kiddo. You’re too smart for your own good.” Aelin heavily sighed, letting her daughter think she had the upper hand. “I guess I‘ll have to call Aunt Sellene and tell you won’t be joining Bree at school.”

Breanna, Sellene’s daughter. She and Maisie were thick as thieves.

“Wait.”

Aelin and Rowan exchanged a look. They were so close.

Maisie continued, “You didn’t tell I’d play with Bree.”

Rowan continued to prepare dinner, pretending this wasn’t a big deal. “You’d play with Bree every day. I’d make sure you two stay in the same class.”

The little girl fidgeted with her pencil, brows furrowed. Aelin would pay good money to know what was going on inside her head, but it wasn’t too difficult to tell.

“I’ll think about it,” was the only thing she said before going back to her drawing.

The stubbornness was one of the few traits Maisie inherited that couldn’t be blamed on one parent. She had gotten it from both of them.

“I’ll think about it”? In Maisie language, that was very close to becoming a Yes.

Not that the kid had much of a choice here, but it was best to let her think she did.

Rowan seemed think the same thing as her. His surprised look turned triumphant when their gazes met, and when his slightly parted lips reshaped themselves into a smile, Aelin grinned back.

This day had been hell, so she’d enjoy this small win.

A/N: I highly recommend reading the bonus chapter 3.5 before reading chapter 4

A/N 2: I promise I won’t hurt baby Maisie ever again! I did it for the plot!!

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