#designer aelin

[leiawritesstories]

Lights, Camera, Yulemas!

Written for 12 Days of Rowaelin, basically every day lol @rowaelinscourt and based off this prompt from @everenvacker

Word count: 2,865

Warnings: language, innuendo, flirting, slight hints of angst. also i'm not sorry for ending it there teehee

Enjoy!

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

"Good afternoon, passengers, this is your captain speaking from the flight deck." The man's smooth voice cut through Aelin's concentration, and she looked up from her thick folder of notes, wincing a bit at the pinch in her neck from spending four hours bent over her work. "We have begun our final descent into Orynth. The local temperature is just about 8 degrees Fahrenheit, with clear skies and sun--though the sun isn't doing much against the chill, I'm afraid." A pause so the passengers could chuckle. "We're expecting to land in approximately twenty minutes. Flight attendants, final checks and prepare cabin for arrival." He put down the microphone.

Aelin stretched her arms above her head and closed her thick manila folder, tucking it back into her expensive tote bag--the only piece she'd ever designed exclusively for herself--which she stored in the lovely little closet space to her right. Ah, the perks of flying first class.

Directly across the aisle, a woman who appeared a few years older than Aelin gasped, clearly having caught sight of her tote. "Excuse me for my rudeness, but is that...a Galathynius?"

Aelin half-turned, offering the woman a smile. "It is! In fact, it's a custom one, something you won't see in any in-store or online collection." She winked. "Let's just say I...well, I know the designer personally."

Just her luck, the couple of sketches that had slipped her notice chose that moment to flutter onto the ground.

"Bloody hell," Aelin grumbled, leaning down to pick them up. "Pardon my rudeness."

The woman gasped, clearly having seen the sketches. "Holy gods!" Her eyes were wider than the plane windows. "Are you...you're Aelin Galathynius!"

Aelin tipped her head. "Busted." She tucked the drawings neatly into her bag. "Pleased to meet you, Ms...."

"Lyria," the woman rushed. "Lyria Frelau." She flashed Aelin a charming, sweet grin. "If it's not too personal, I actually work in the modeling industry--gods no, not as a model, that was never my path. I'm an agent at a firm in Orynth, that's all."

"Well, Lyria, let me tell you something--there's no such thing as 'just an agent.'" Aelin winked. "If I'm being honest, agents are the ones who make the world go 'round, as it were, because you help set up the people who walk in shows so little designers like me can get our work out to the world." On a whim, she handed Lyria her business card. "I'm releasing a Yulemas collection here in Orynth, actually, and if you're interested, please do give me a call." She grinned. "I'm sure I can find you a few tickets."

"Oh my--I--" Lyria accepted Aelin's card, incredulous. "Gods, thank you so much!" She beamed. "If it's not too much, I will certainly be interested in this show of yours--oh gosh, I can hardly believe it!"

Aelin grinned, settling back into her seat. "From one person in the industry to another, that's all."

In the whirlwind that swept her up almost the second she walked out of Orynth International Airport, she nearly forgot about Lyria.

Until the agent with the sweet smile turned out to be just the woman she needed to save the unexpected catastrophe that threatened to ruin her whole entire show.

~

"He what?" Aelin all but shrieked, her pulse spiking as high as her stress level. "Go--fucking gods, NOW?"

"I'm so sorry, Ae!" On the other end of the phone, Lysandra was trying her absolute utmost to placate her dear friend. "Shit, I didn't know until the goddamn hospital called, saying Fen was out."

"Again. Fuck!" Aelin raked her hands through her loose hair, sending the shoulder-length golden blonde strands into disarray. "Fen's my core male model, Lys, what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Hold on a sec--" Somewhat muffled, Lys's voice barked orders at whoever was close by in the office, probably trying to find any of the understudies they might have. She was back a few tense minutes later, her voice tight. "Fuck, Ae, I'm so sorry."

"Just what I fucking needed," Aelin grouched. "Thank you, Lys, you're a superhero."

"I'll keep trying to find someone," Lys promised. "I just..."

"Hold on a sec, I've got a call incoming."

"K, call me back." Lys hung up.

Sighing heavily, Aelin accepted the incoming call. "Aelin Galathynius, what's your call?"

"Miss Galathynius?" Lyria's voice. "I really don't mean to intrude, not at all, but my agency just received a call from your office saying there was a last-minute gap in your model cast?"

All of a sudden, Aelin's head cleared. Or at least cleared enough to hear herself think. "Actually, yes, we do have a gap. Fenrys Moonbeam had an unexpected skiing accident yesterday and is unable to walk today."

Lyria cleared her throat. "Well, as it happens, we do have someone available here in Orynth." Rustling paper as she checked her file. "His name is...Rowan. Rowan Whitethorn."

Aelin's brows furrowed. "I'm not sure I've ever heard that name before, is he new?"

"New to major designer shows, yes," Lyria confirmed. "He's walked in smaller shows for a few years, done a lot of work for brands and magazines, mostly in menswear and cologne."

"Ah. Worlds I don't keep up with as much as I should." Aelin thought for a brief moment. What the hell, he's here and he's male and I need a male model right the hell now. "Lyria?"

"Yes?"

"Send him over. I'll give you the address; if he could be here as soon as humanly possible, that would be amazing."

"Of course!"

"Thank you so much," Aelin breathed. Then she rattled off the address and hung up, barely even noticing that Lyria was halfway through one last note.

"...Rowan's not much of a Yulemas person, though."

~

Chaos.

Everything was chaos.

And Aelin was very much part of the chaos, running from station to station, model to model, team to team, checking hair and makeup and the lineup and going over any last-minute notes she had. All while distracting herself from checking the door every three seconds to see if the model Lyria said she would send--Regan? Ronan? Roger? What was his damn name again?--had shown up.

She successfully distracted herself enough that an assistant had to tap her shoulder to inform her that a Rowan Whitethorn was here to fill in for Fenrys.

Rowan. Right. Aelin strode over to what would have ben Fen's dressing area, flicking through her folder of notes. "One hour to runway, people!" she called. "Whitethorn, was it?"

"That's me."

For what felt like eternity, Aelin froze, sweeping her eyes over the sight of six foot three of sheer perfection in front of her. Then she cleared her throat, extended her free hand like the businesswoman she was, and shook hands with the model. "Aelin Galathynius."

"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Rowan's handshake was as firm as the defined muscles carving every inch of his body.

"Don't ma'am me, it makes me feel ancient," she laughed. "Right. Fenrys Moonbeam was supposed to walk the core male position today but is currently incapable of walking. So. How much runway experience do you have, Mr. Whitethorn?"

"Rowan, please, and not much. I've done a lot more with campaign shoots, magazines and all that fun shit. I have walked in a few Fashion Weeks, but that's about it as far as major runway shows go."

"I see." Aelin scribbled a few things on her notes. "Well, something is always better than nothing." She nodded at the stylists and dressers, who went right to work with Rowan's appearance, tousling up his silvery hair--a unique color, Aelin observed. Casually observed.

Not like she was ogling the man.

"Good news," the dresser murmured to Aelin. "He's just about the same measurements as Fen."

"Finally, some good luck," Aelin muttered, half under her breath. "Great, let's see if we need any alterations done."

When the wardrobe people wheeled in the rack of outfits, Rowan's posture stiffened, his spine solidifying into steel. Aelin's keen glance didn't miss the shift. "Are you alright, Rowan?"

"Fine," he bit out.

"Rowan." She placed herself in front of him, folded her arms, and leveled a flat stare at the man. "Truth?"

He met her stare with one of his own, a current of wrath simmering beneath his flat glare. "A Yulemas collection?"

"I thought Ms. Frelau or whoever your agent is would have informed you of that." Aelin's brows knitted. "Didn't they?"

Rowan shook his head. "Nobody did. Just told me to get here ASAP."

"Damn industry," Aelin grumbled. "Yes. A Yulemas collection. My first solo clothing line, in fact."

"Congratulations," he returned, something resembling actual warmth in his tone.

"Thank you." She arched one brow. "Nothing I have for you is ostentatious, I promise. I'm not that kind of designer."

Thank the gods," he deadpanned. "One less godawful tinsel-tree contraption to haunt the stores."

"Oh, you're a funny one," she snarked right back. "I'm sure the audience will be entirely captivated by you regardless of the clothing, Whitethorn. In fact, I'm half-tempted to send you to the runway with just your skin and your sass; you'd charm the pants right off half the crowd at least."

His lips flattened, laughter forcibly pressed back. "Funny."

"I know." She winked. "Right, let's see the outfits."

~

Rowan Whitethorn was completely and utterly fucked. Had been since he walked into the Yulemas explosion of the Galathynius show's backstage area to realize that he'd been called into a huge blaring show of everything he couldn't stand. Had been even more fucked when he met Aelin Galathynius, the designer, and very quickly discovered that he would have to keep a constant sad-puppy image in his mind lest he walk onto the runway standing upright, as it were.

But this was a godsdamn Yulemas show. A Yulemas collection. A whole lineup of clothing that represented everything Rowan hated about the winter season.

How the hell was he going to make it through?

He had to admit Aelin was telling the truth--none of the clothes that were rapidly pulled on and off his body were terribly ostentatious. In fact, they were really rather tasteful and beautifully designed, even if almost everything was in a color palette of greens, reds, ivory, gold, silver, and white. Holiday colors.

Colors he refused to admit were actually quite well suited to him.

Aelin, though, spoke her mind freely. "Well, sign me the hell up," she smirked, appraising him with her glance.

Gods roast him, Rowan wished that glance was her hands. Or even better, her tongue. Not that he would ever do something as completely inappropriate as fantasize about a woman he hardly knew...right?

Aelin smacked her lips. "I was right about that gorgeous ass of yours, Whitethorn. Every lady in the audience is going to be having some wonderful dreams tonight, oh yes."

"Galathynius," Rowan groaned, tipping his head back and screwing his eyes shut in discomfort. "Why?"

She chuckled. "I have a penchant for teasing people when I'm stressed, so forgive me if I've said anything wrong."

"'S'fine," he mumbled, beyond thankful for the runway makeup hiding his violent blush.

"Good." And Aelin whisked out of his dressing room, calling out that there were only five minutes to showtime.

Hell.

Just like that, the nerves exploded in Rowan's stomach. He looked at himself in the mirror, stared at the deep-red, fitted trousers, the partially unbuttoned off-white shirt, the casually festive tie hanging loose around his neck, and he felt faintly sick. That tended to happen when he had to face the flashy glamor of Yulemas.

"You'll do wonderfully." Unexpected, Aelin's voice broke into his reverie.

He whirled around. "What?"

"You'll do just fine, Rowan," she repeated. "I know you will."

"Hope so," he muttered. "Goddamn Yulemas memories."

If Aelin heard--which she most likely did--she said nothing, just adjusted the artfully tousled fabric of his shirt and patted his shoulder. "Oh! We almost forgot." She grabbed something off the table behind Rowan. "Give me your hand."

A little confused, Rowan held out his left hand. Aelin swiftly looped a small strand of multicolored lights around his wrist--a holiday decoration. "Every model is wearing one of these bracelets," she explained. "It's the little thing that's going to run through the whole show."

"Oh." He rolled his wrist around a bit, getting used to the lights. And forcing away everything those Yulemas lights brought to mind. "I like the idea, it's a nice touch."

"Us designers have to have those nice little touches." Aelin eyed him once more, obviously satisfied for how she nodded. "Queue up, Whitethorn. And don't worry, the show will be over before you know it."

~

Aelin was right--the show did go by in a hazy blur, and before Rowan knew it, he was standing in the wings waiting for his signal, clad in his final outfit of the show. And of course, of fucking course, this last outfit would have been the one that most made him want to crawl into the ground and hide.

The suit (should he even call it that?) wasn't awful, just...green. Festive holiday green. And the suit jacket's lapels were embellished with shimmering silvery fabric. And there was a sprig of mistletoe, of all things, tucked into the breast pocket.

Oh, and he was conveniently shirtless.

It was far, far worse than the magazine shoot he'd had to do last Yulemas, where he was dressed in fitted red velvet pants, a very tight matching jacket, and a Santa hat and been subjected to three whole hours of giggling little jokes about Santa being caught looking like a whole snack. Whatever the hell that meant.

Jaw locked, he ignored yet another snicker from his left as someone else passed by and ogled him. He really didn't know why everyone seemed so obsessed with his shirtless-ness; for the gods' sake, being physically fit was part of his job description.

"Annoying, isn't it?" Aelin's voice unexpectedly sounded near his side.

"Awful," he muttered.

She snickered quietly. "Well, you only have to wear this for about ten more minutes, and then never again."

"Thank the gods," he grumbled. "No offense to you, of course, the designs are phenomenal."

"You flatter me." She flashed him a quick, genuine smile. "Wait--before you walk, I need to fix this." Rising onto her tiptoes, she quickly smoothed out the jacket and adjusted the mistletoe in his pocket.

Which oh so conveniently required that she teasingly pass it over his head.

"Look at that," she drawled, "guess we found the mistletoe. Pucker up, Whitethorn."

He didn't have time to choke out any response before her soft lips pecked his, barely there for half a second before she replaced the mistletoe, patted his shoulder, and giggled.

"You've got this, Whitethorn! Make me proud." And with that, she gave the signal, nudging him out onto the runway.

Rowan's brain completely stalled, his body moving on autopilot down the runway and back. She kissed me! his mind screamed, the thought incredible and overwhelming all at once. As that thought finally quieted, he realized something.

He wanted to kiss her properly.

Not that...not that he would ever kiss a woman he barely knew, much less the designer who'd hired him to model her collection.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Pull it together, Whitethorn! he yelled at himself. This is work, not a goddamn crappy Hallmark Yulemas film!

Along with all the other models, he waited backstage as the lights went down and the audience broke into waves of applause, calling for the designer. The lights rose back up and Aelin, after a few nudges from a brunette woman in a headset, walked out onto the runway, beaming and waving to the crowd's cheers. She walked back smiling giddily, an almost girlish expression that made her striking turquoise eyes light with gold. The models and the teams cheered just as loudly when they were all backstage, congratulating the young designer on a wildly successful first show.

"Stop it," she laughed. "I could never have done it without all of you, and you all know it. Congratulations, everyone!"

As she passed Rowan, he shook her hand. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," she beamed. "Couldn't have done it without you, Whitethorn. I'm dead serious." Then she winked, that gleam in her eyes going wicked. "Besides, who am I to resist seeing you shirtless?"

"Gods," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're bad, Galathynius."

"Oh, you have no idea," she purred, her voice dropping to a velvety purr.

Rowan was too stunned to form a coherent retort, especially when she threw him a smirking wink and a lazy, sensual grin as she walked away. Too stunned to retort for several moments, at least.

He was decidedly not stunned, however, when he returned to his dressing room to find Aelin perched on the stool, wearing a form-fitting golden dress of her own design, the glimmering material molding to her form like a glove, save for the deep slit running all the way up one leg.

"Ho ho ho, Merry Yulemas," she hummed, brazenly appraising his form with her molten gaze. "Lock the door behind you, darling."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #12 days of rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #model and designer au #designer aelin #model rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #enjoy #hehehehehe

[theadrawsart]

Do I have a million things to do?

Yes

Did I decide to do designs for throne of glass characters despite that?

…

also yes

#throne of glass #illustration #art #drawing #digital illustration #character design #aelin galythinius #dorian havilliard #aedion ashryver #chaol westfall #yrene towers #throne of glass fanart #kingdom of ash

[morgana0anagrom]

I wanted to share this piece with you guys but i couldn't post it sooner. for me this is the best Aelin art I have ever drawn, at least right now haha hope you guys will like this art xoxo character is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius from Throne of glass series by @sjmaas this artwork was commissioned by @theclovercrate 

#aelin ashryver #aelin fireheart #throne of glass #crown of midnight #QUEEN OF SHADOWS #heir of fire #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #books #book art #Book Illustration #book illustrator #BOOK CHARACTER #Illustration #Digital Illustration #character illustration #characters #Character Design #character art #digital art #digital painting #digital drawing #fantasy #fan art #book artist #artist on tumblr

[artisticallyalexis]

Thats it for today folks, I'm exhausted. Rendered in some rough ideas with this so I could see more of the vision for the final piece, I also desperately needed to look at something that wasn't green.

#illustration #illustrator #character design #digital illustration #digital painting #fantasy art #illustrative art #drawing #fantasy #procreate #throne of glass fanart #throne of glass #aelin fireheart #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galythinius #aelin x rowan #tog #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin

[ezs-diary]

Azriella Ambrose

The main character

Meet Azriella, who is a quick witted girl with a sharp mind and even sharper tongue. People know better than to mess with her unless they have a death wish. Sarcasm and profanities flow down her tongue like honey. She is an independent person because she learned at a young age that she can't rely on anyone but herself,however she has a bit of anger and has a tendency to act on impulse. When she wants smth she doesn't stop till she gets it. She has an ability to project a cold exterior but she really is very possessive and caring for people she deeply cares for. She is loyal to a fault. It would be an understatement to say that she is deceiving. People either want to be with her or be her. She is bold and is never afraid to speak her mind. She is creative and extraordinarily talented, as a result she uses art as a form to express herself, as she is good at many things but not expressing her feelings. Even though she is an extrovert not many people know what she is going through or what she has been through. When she walks she walks oh sorry she struts. She can be ruthless. She is cocky which is not appreciated by many men. She is charismatic and has a sense of humour. SHe is known for challenging authority and societal norms, always seeking to push boundaries and ignite change. She never learned to take anyone's shit.

Appearance

16 y/o

Wheaties skin tone

Medium length brown hair

Onyx colour eyes

5'5

Some random facts

She love listening to rock music but she also love to listen to ms swift

She doesn't like doing make up

The love of her life are books, chocolate and music.

She plays many instruments

She has bruises all over her body how you ask because she is clumsy as hell ( many ppl don't know that so whenever she has a new bruise they think she got into a fight)

Skateboarding

Always has her headphones on

Uses sarcasm as her coping mechanism

Her go to outfit is a band t shirt with ripped jeans

Wears silver jewellery only

People think she is an entj but she is an entp

Very intelligent

Needs academic validation but people think that she doesn't care about her grades

#writing #fantasy #sarcasm #character design #aelin ashryver galathynius #tony stark #charlie dalton #sirius black

[a-library-ghost]

new throne of glass covers??! slay or nay?

#sjm #sarah j maas #tog #throne of glass #aelin ashryver #rowan whitethorn #dorian havillard #sjmaas #cover design

[throneofsapphics]

Woah! You did amazing with help me keep her!! The angst in that fic GOT MY LITTLE HEART RACING 😭 and I love how level headed you wrote the reader. Like they're not gonna accept the mating bond just because it's there and figuring out all three of them is gonna take time (chefs kiss). Also the way you wrote Aelin's determination and stubbornness and Rowens ability to calm and support Aelin and the reader! I LOVE IT! I've re-read it like 4 times already it's SO GOOD❤️ anyway I hope you have an awesome day ❤️ thank you for the great fics

have your little girlfriend, part three

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: Aelin wanted to be there in case he took it a step too far, and would push them further back in their progress. She had a feeling y/n was close, close to accepting the bond - and she didn’t want to wait any longer than they had to. 

Word Count: ~4.9k

Warnings: smut, light d/s, mentions of blood, flashbacks, possessiveness, minors dni! 

A/N: oh my gosh I’m so glad you liked it, I hope you have a fantastic day! here’s part three, I have a part four planned but I'm still deciding what direction I want it to go

series masterlist

The first morning she woke up with Aelin in her bed, y/n thought she looked like an angel. And was very glad she couldn’t read her thoughts, because she’d never let her live it down. 

Her golden hair fell across her face, her lips parted slightly, she tilted her head the tiniest bit to see her clearer. As her thumb ran across her cheeks, the velvety smooth skin, Aelin sighed and dug further into the pillows, tugging her closer in the process. Y/n shifted to try and disentangle herself, but she wrapped her arms tighter around her, tugging her in closer with a grumble. 

Y/n poked her cheek, and the turquoise eyes opened, still half-lidded with drowsiness. “Wake up.” 

“No.” A whine left her throat, “a few more minutes,” and she closed her eyes. 

Y/n wiggled, but couldn’t escape from her arms, and sighed. “Is the Queen of Terrasen begging?” 

That caught her attention, her eyes narrowed. “That’s your job.” Her cheeks flushed. Somehow Aelin always managed to turn things around on her. She couldn’t come up with a reply, and ducked her head to ignore the female's smirk. Aelin did have her begging last night. 

-

Every day the small thread inside of her, the one that wanted to reach out and bind her permanently to her mates, grew more insistent. But she wasn’t ready, not yet. Part of her needed them to prove things would change, to see, in action, that they could be different. Mostly that Aelin could. 

That following weekend, Aelin showed up with Rowan in tow, at an ungodly hour and claimed they were going on an adventure. 

Y/n rolled back over, throwing a pillow over her head with a groan, but Aelin ripped it right off. 

“How are you so chipper?” She grumbled. Throwing a pillow at her - one she dodged. 

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Rowan drawled, from where he stood near the doorway, eyes flickering with amusement. 

Aelin dragged her out of bed, towards her closet, and picked out clothes for her. 

Y/n was too tired to complain about it, and sat as Aelin dragged a brush through her hair, carefully braiding it. 

Her fingers tugged on a tangle, and she hissed. “Be gentle.” 

“Hush,” Aelin said, but pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck. Basically a groveling apology coming from her. 

Her eyes scanned the room, before spotting the dagger on the window sill. “You need to sharpen this,” she frowned, examining the blade. Weapons seemed to be one of Aelin’s favorite gifts, and she had a small collection of very sharp blades now. After the third, she told her to stop, that she had plenty. Aelin had pouted but listened. This blade was one of her own, gifted to her shortly after magic returned. 

“I clean it.” Y/n protested. 

“That’s not the same.” Her eyebrows raised, but she tucked it into the small leather sheath she’d bought her, designed to wrap around her thigh. 

“I’ll teach you how.” Rowan said, y/n looked up to see his lips turning up at the sides, amused by Aelin’s fussing. 

-

Aelin dragged both of them out to the forest, intent on seeking out the little folk. Well, she couldn’t exactly drag them out of anywhere, but had hopes of introducing them to y/n. She had a sense they’d take well to her, and her gentle nature. Maybe it would be a re-introduction, she had lived in these forests - a small village now wiped off the map - before … before magic fell and Adarlan invaded. A thought that still flared some anger in her, but she learned to keep it tapped down, reminding her of how different Terrasen is now. 

The Little Folk, that’s who Aelin was taking me to see. I crouched on my knees - not caring of the dirt staining them, and spoke to them in their own language, murmuring quietly. Spindly green hands, wings, scales gleaming, and beautiful bright eyes.  

She had Aelin take her back to the forest as soon as she was able to, and she left some gifts out for the little folk. Trinkets, but smaller than the ones she usually made. Aelin watched as she carefully left them on the log, and that small act - small act of kindness - made her fall further in love with her. 

She asked her why, why she did it, and y/n told her it was a thank you - for everything they did for her all those years ago. Saved her, guided her away from danger. And for everything they did for Aelin too. 

“I didn’t ask but told me … more about your story,” y/n said softly, Aelin’s body stiffened slightly, knowing exactly what parts they’d told, and y/n kept running a gentle thumb across the top of her hand, where their fingers joined. She didn’t say much else about it, didn’t push or ask too many questions. If the Little Folk wants to tell you something, there’s usually a good reason for it. Aelin didn’t muse on it any longer, just focusing on the sensation of y/n’s skin against hers, keeping her grounded, and let her guide the way back home. 

-

Y/n knew Aelin was over-protective, in her own way, but Rowan was taking it to a point where she thought she might lose her gods-damned mind. 

She has a long temper, that’s for certain, but she’d been out in the forest on a day sacred to her, foraging for different herbs and berries, something she used to do with her parents, before … before everything happened. It was almost a sacred ritual to her, a time where she felt most connected to them. There happened to be a familiar white-tailed hawk following her. She supposes he thinks she’s being discreet, giving her space, but right now all it’s doing is frustrating her. Aelin taught her to protect herself, and the kings-flame was blooming in mass. She picked up a rock, pretending to inspect it, before launching it right for the bird. He squawked as he soared above it, she knew he wouldn’t hit him, but it landed right on the tree branch he was perched on. 

She stood, hands bracing her hips, glaring at him, daring him to come closer or shift back. He seemed to get the message, temporarily, because he remained out of sight. But, y/n could sense his presence there. 

-

“She threw a rock at me.” He told Aelin through gritted teeth. 

“Why were you following her? And where?” 

“Into the forest, and because she was going alone. At dawn.” 

Aelin groaned, her head leaning back against the couch, eyes trained on the ceiling. “I’ve taught her how to protect herself.” 

“I thought you would’ve followed her yourself.” 

“I tried one year,” she turned her head to look at him. 

“We go with her. Often.” He couldn’t figure out why this time was different, and why she hadn’t said anything. 

“Her parents were murdered there, trying to flee Adarlanian soldiers.” 

That … that explains why she wanted to be alone, but didn’t stop the other instinct from popping up. If someone related to her was killed there, would the danger be increased?

“Stop thinking so much.” Aelin chided, “if you’re this worried, train her yourself.” He could tell Aelin regretted the words as soon as they left her lips.

-

Why the hell did she mention that? Rowan training y/n was a bad idea for many reasons. The first being his style of training. She didn’t take well to yelling, or particularly harsh criticism. Encouragement was much better. She didn’t like blades, violence, or fighting. But, when Aelin had first approached her and offered, y/n was much better than she expected. 

“Where did you learn to fight?” They’d started seeing each other regularly six months ago, and things blossomed from there - to the point where Aelin’s worrying began. 

“With the Wolf tribe.” Y/n admitted, rolling her shoulders out. 

“I didn’t know you-” 

“Fought in the battle?” A sad smile crossed her lips. “You didn’t ask, but I don’t like to think of it.” 

Aelin nodded, and thanked her - something she completely shrugged off, telling her she’s the one who deserves the thanks, and cut her off before she could begin arguing about it - distracting her with another technique question. 

Aelin caught Rowan’s hand, pulling him down to sit next to her. “She’s very capable, already.” More than the average citizen or Fae. 

“There’s always more to learn.” 

“She has no interest in violence, or being a soldier.” Rowan’s lips pressed into a tight line. “I won’t stop you if you really want to, but you have to be gentle about it. When she confronts you about earlier - which she will, bring it up then."

-

Y/n was fuming. Absolutely fuming. She was cleaning her kitchen much more aggressively than usual. She hadn’t told him, for a reason, and Aelin knew why - and not to follow. But maybe she didn’t pass the message on to Rowan. She knew she can’t be that mad at him for something he wasn’t aware of, but it didn’t stop the bubbling fury inside her. Especially as she heard the door open, and scented him. 

A wooden spoon in hand, she whirled around, “You couldn’t just -” 

“I’m sorry.” He interrupted her, hands held up. “Aelin told me.” 

Better late than never. She huffed, turning back to whatever she was doing - what was it? She couldn’t remember, but ended up staring aimlessly at the stove. Her memories seemed to whirl through her. Her parents sacrifice, running in animal form, ten years - as a child - spent scavenging where she could, before the wolf tribe found her and knew what she was, who she was, and took her in. Magic returning, reunion with her family, the deaths of said family. 

A gentle arm, wrapped around her chest, tugging her backwards, and the spoon was plucked out her hand. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Does she? Sifting through those memories, reliving them, the past few ones had been enough. Today was enough. “Not now.” 

He didn’t give a verbal reply, just led her over to the couch, shifting them so she was tucked into his chest, the silent tears leaving wet spots on his tunic, and ran a hand up and down her spine. 

-

“I didn’t realize you didn’t know.” Rowan figures that’s as close to an apology as he’ll get, and only tugged her into his chest further. 

“I know you can protect yourself,” he started, feeling her stiffen slightly against him. “But I want to see.” 

She pushed back slightly to look at his face, “Is Aelin’s word not good enough?” y/n teased, a small smile - one she definitely learned from Aelin - the exact one that would piss nearly any Fae male off. 

-

She saw ire flash through the green eyes, and mentally thanked Aelin for that little trick. Rowan wanted to see for himself that she was capable. Y/n didn’t blame him for it, even if it irked her a bit. “If you promise not to wear a shirt.” 

“If you want to see me shirtless, all you need to do is ask.” He replied smoothly, almost unphased, and her cheeks flushed. Especially when he ran a thumb over the side of her breast, down her rib cage, before resuming the same strokes running down her spine. She shuddered as one hand entangled itself in the back of her hair, and the other made that same stroke - right over the side of her breast. She focused her breaths to stay steady, even with her heart pounding. His hand carefully tilted her head back to arch her neck, to bare it to him. All of it. She felt his warm breath against her skin, the lips barely brushing. Then - his canines grazed over her pulse point, the pulse that quickened, and his tongue flicked over it. He could easily rip her throat out with one movement. She shuddered - unsure if it was arousal of fear running through her and her lips parted into a soft moan, as he leaned back to rest against the couch. Casual arrogance, that’s the best way she could describe it. “Aelin did say you were responsive,” he mused. 

That flared something in her. Made her want to prove some kind of point. Very intentionally, she shifted in his lap, to brush up against a certain part - one that was already hardening. “Did she know?” y/n said, her voice honeyed with false innocence. 

-

This, this is the part of her he’d seen a year ago. Right before he fucked it out of her. Gods, he loved it. Before she could move again, utter another word, he shifted them so she laid, stretched out on the couch, caged in by him - his forearms bracing the space next to her head. He loved the shock in her eyes, the surprise, and grinned as he leaned down to kiss the hollow over her throat, and pushed one knee in between her legs, brushing against her core. Her entire body arched, keening up against him. 

He took the next hour to tease her, testing her every reaction - how her body responded to each touch, to each movement, to each brush of his fingers, or press of his lips. 

-

She lost track of time as he teased her, she thought Aelin was bad - but Rowan was merciless. His fingers curled inside her, and she felt it, felt her walls clench around him, right on the edge and … he pulled out completely and she nearly sobbed. 

“You don’t cum unless I say so.” His fingers, still slick with her arousal, tilted her chin so she’d meet his gaze. He was dead serious. Meant every word he said. “Understood?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and something like approval flashed through his features. Part of her wanted to challenge him, but the other was so desperate for him to keep touching her, to finally let her finish. 

“Good girl.” 

Y/n whimpered, as he trailed his fingers back down her body, so damn slowly. Her dress had been thrown off long ago. “Please, please -” 

He interrupted her, “If I want you to beg, I’ll tell you.” Rutting Gods he would be the end of her. 

-

Rowan was pushing, to see how she’d take each command she threw at him. Only two, for now, and she took them beautifully. Someone who actually listened, that was a change for him. He pressed one of her knees up, pushing it towards her chest, and lowered his mouth, seeing the desperation in her eyes. He curled two fingers inside her, holding them for a second, before slowly pumping them, but harshly enough her body jolted with each movement, combinations of screams, moans, and his name rolling from her lips. 

“You can cum now, Angel.” Those words had her walls clenching around him, and before he could think twice about it, his canines dug into the soft skin of her inner thigh - and sent her tumbling right over the edge. He carefully licked the small droplets of blood, and gently pulled his fingers out from her, pressing them against her lips, watching her clean them with a dazed expression on her face

-

She was left reeling, her chest heaving, and her thighs shaking slightly. Rowan scooped her right up, and she couldn’t find the energy to protest as he started running a bath for her. 

“But … you -” She babbled, trying to convey the right words. 

“Not today,” he said quietly, eyes observing her. She felt like he could read every thought running through her mind, his mouth turned up at one side when she pouted, and he flicked her bottom lip. “Soon.” He promised. 

-

Rowan came back, and she could scent Y/n all over him. Her arousal, too. This was the first time they’d been … intimate, at least to that level, without her there. Instead of jealousy, happiness for them took over instead.

“I take it your apology was accepted?” 

“It took a bit of convincing.” He had a very satisfied look on his face, and she rolled her eyes. Typical of him. If words didn’t seem to be enough, he’d show with his actions. Very convincing actions.

It took a while for Aelin to become comfortable with the two of them spending time alone.  Rowan had put his foot down, told her that if this was going to work, she needed to trust the two of them together. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she argued. 

“She’s not just yours anymore,” he snarled, and Aelin’s eyes flared. “Trying means the two of us need time too.” 

A hurt look crossed her face. That they wanted to be without … Rowan crossed the room quickly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Not in the way you’re thinking. You and I have a different relationship, don’t we?” 

She nodded, lips pressed into a tight line. “Y/n doesn’t know where she stands with me. You see how she hesitates. If you want to keep her, for her to accept both of us, you need to give her the chance to figure that out.” 

Everything about it made sense. It did. She wouldn’t tell him he was right, but he did have a good point. “You’ve made your case,” she huffed, turning her back so she wouldn’t see the satisfaction on his face. 

“First time you train her - or she shows you, whatever it is, I’m monitoring.” Aelin’s eyes narrowed, daring him to disagree, but he didn’t. Aelin wanted to be there in case he took it a step too far, and would push them further back in their progress. She had a feeling y/n was close, close to accepting the bond - and she didn’t want to wait any longer than they had to. It had been three months already. They knew after the bond it would become more and more difficult for her to be away from them for long periods of time, so they planned to invite her - convince her if necessary - to stay at the castle. 

They’d already started modifying rooms for her, similar to her own in the sense that they’d have space for her to experiment and make her crafts. A workshop, with a small library, but not a separate bed. Once the three of them were together, they fully planned on keeping her nights occupied. Both Aelin and Rowan played the long game. They’d do whatever it took to keep her. 

-

Aelin had the reasonable audacity to show up early in the morning, to make sure she would actually keep to her word and go train with Rowan, instead of coming up with an excuse. She promised to be there, that she wouldn’t let him go overboard. Y/n remembers the story of how they met, of his rather brutal training techniques, and although he said he wanted to ‘see for himself,’ y/n knew it was a thinly veiled excuse to rope her into training with him. With all honestly, she couldn’t trust herself completely to set boundaries with him. Maybe Aelin knew that too.

Rowan was a bit harsher than Aelin, but based on the glares the female kept sending him, she knew he was holding back, probably a lot. They’d secured a secluded courtyard in the castle - nobody else in sight, and he put her through her paces until her body was glistening with sweat, and she guzzled down some water. 

“There’s a few things we can work on,” she turned sharply to face him, but saw the gentle expression on his face. “If you’d like to.” 

Her mouth quirked into a half smile. “What are those things?” Then she frowned. “I thought you said you’d be shirtless.” 

Aelin’s laugh filled the courtyard. 

-

Four months after the conversation, she finally felt ready. But, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, just wanted to let the part suppressing it loosen, and see what would happen. Aelin hadn’t left in the middle of the night - not without waking her to tell her, and she’d grown closer to Rowan, starting to figure out where she stood with them. They introduced her to a few people, and she introduced Aelin to some of her friends. Rowan said he wasn’t too interested, and Aelin said he would likely scare the hell out of them. And that meeting both the Queen and King of Terrasen all at once would be a bit much. Things changed enough she felt ready - that and the growing pressure in her chest was almost too much to handle, it nearly overwhelmed her at every turn, every time she saw them, and wanted to release it of her own control, before it would make the decision for her. 

They both were coming over for dinner later that night and she was jittery. On edge, jumping at every sound. A small knock sounded on the door, before it opened and both of them walked in, Rowan grabbing Aelin’s cloak to hang it on the rack. Fall was starting to set in in Terrasen, and with it came the chill slowly creeping in everywhere. 

They took a few steps in, and froze. That small thread in her chest reached out, splitting in two directions, and she felt it - the exact moment their souls connected. Everything around her slowed to a stop, and her vision tunneled, all she could see, all she could feel was them. Every part of her body and soul belonged to them - wanted them, yearned for them. It felt like the connection that was waiting for her, waiting for her to find and embrace. Ancient magic fluttered around the room as they took predatory steps towards them. The hunger in their eyes made her pause. But she felt it too, the draw to them, able to feel more of their emotions - sense them on a new level. 

As soon as they were in front of her, she cupped one hand on each of their cheeks, searching their eyes for any anger, resentment, anything. She had sprung it on them, and just realized maybe they’d be angry or upset. 

“About damn time,” Aelin growled, before gripping the back of my head, pulling me into a bruising kiss. Their lips moved together with a ferocious, almost frenzied passion. She felt rough hands grip her waist, and Rowan pressing behind her, pushing her further into Aelin. Caging her between them. His hand squeezed, before his lips met the spot between her neck and shoulder, sucking slightly. “You're ours now.” Aelin said as she pulled away for air. 

“Forever.” Rowan said behind her, and she shuddered, but didn’t let the words sink in, only turning to press her lips against Rowan’s, her neck perfectly exposed for Aelin, who took full advantage of the chance to leave marks and kisses all down it. 

With every touch, kiss, and caress she felt herself intertwining deeper with them, every part of her becoming theirs and every part of them becoming hers. 

-

They barely made it to her bedroom before her fingers were tugging at the end of Aelin’s tunic, the female didn’t waste any time, pulling it off herself - and flinging it somewhere across the room. 

Y/n reached to pull down the straps of her dress, but a large hand covered hers, “let me,” Rowan’s lips grazed across her ear. He slowly tugged down one strap, kissing the bare shoulder left behind, before gently nipping at it. She felt Aelin do the same, on her other shoulder. Their canines grazed against her, and she let out a small whimper. Even that small sensation felt let it was lighting her body on fire, like flames would be covering her at any minute. 

Then there were soft flames gently tickling at her skin - not burning, just caressing. 

“Aelin,” she heard Rowan’s growl, and a ice kissed wind brushed against her skin as well - but it didn’t extinguish it, instead they seemed to play together, brushing against her body, they both pressed closer, and she felt their canines graze either side of her neck, right at the spots where her neck met her shoulder. 

There was no warning as their teeth sunk in. Marking her. Claiming her. Y/n thought she might finish from that alone, but was reduced to moans and whimpers as they each licked up the small droplets of blood left behind. 

Their clothes were quickly forgotten after that, and Rowan tossed her onto her bed with a small squeal, tossing Aelin right after her, she laughed lightly, but that ended as Rowan tugged her back against his chest, using his knees to spread hers wide apart, and Aelin lowered herself, eyes on hers the entire time, and gave a gentle lick against her clit. Gods she was already so wet, her arousal practically dripping, and she felt Rowan’s hard length against her back. 

Rowan and Aelin exchanged a glance over her shoulder, and Aelin pulled back slightly, ignoring y/n’s whines of protest. 

She figured out quickly what was happening next, as Rowan’s hands gripped her hips, before lowering her onto him - inch by inch, stopping to let her body adjust, before finally pushing her all the way, leaving her feeling so damned full in this position. 

She twisted her hips slightly, and he groaned, but grabbed her - holding her still. Her eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, but before she could think further Aelin was back between her legs, sucking at her clit. 

She could feel Rowan trembling with restraint, but he held her there - not moving, as Aelin licked and sucked at her clit - finding a perfect rhythm, and one of Rowan’s hands pinched her pebbled nipple slightly, before pinching harsh enough she threw her head back against his shoulder, moaning loudly. She felt herself growing closer and closer. 

“Ask,” Rowan's teeth tugged at her earlobe. 

“Please,” she nearly sobbed, “please can I cum?” 

“Go ahead,” 

Y/n looked down at Aelin, just as the female sucked her clit particularly harshly, looking up at her through her lashes, and she went over the edge, her walls clenching, body starting to shake. Gods she felt like she might explode, burst up into flames. 

She heard Aelin’s laugh and felt her kissing her way up her body, leaving small bites and marks on her way, until their lips met. She sighed into the kiss, tasting her own arousal on her lips and tongue. 

They switched, Gods she could never figure out how they moved so fast, and she was on her back, legs thrown over Rowan’s shoulders, and Aelin slowly lowering herself over her face. 

She had no warning as Rowan began thrusting inside her, his pace punishing and nearly brutal. Aelin’s hands were braced against the headboard, and she moaned into her, alternating between licking and sucking her clit as her breaths became more ragged - harsher. 

She ran her hands up her ribcage, gently tracing a knuckle under one of her breasts, before gliding her thumb over her nipple. Aelin wasn’t having it, and covered y/n’s hand with her own, squeezing harshly. She got the message, repeating the motions, and it was so gods-damned hard to focus. With Rowan slamming into her, the incredible taste of Aelin on her tongue, the feeling of her soft skin under her hands. Aelin finished first, screaming her name, panting heavily, before climbing off, and Rowan’s body folded over her own, pressing her legs up to her chest. 

Aelins nails dragged down her arm, leaving small scratches in their wake, before she grabbed her hand, squeezing before laying a gentle kiss against her shoulder. 

“Who do you belong to?” His breath was warm against her neck, and she fought to regain her breath - her voice, apparently her answer didn’t come quick enough, because he grasped the base of her neck, he repeated himself, his voice lower, “who do you belong to?” emphasizing it with a light squeeze. 

“You,” she screamed, half sobbing, “I belong to both of you. Rowan and Aelin. Oh gods.” 

“Then cum for us love, again.” Rowan shifted his hips just enough to hit the perfect spot, and she did, screaming their names the entire time as his walls clenched around her. 

He finished shortly after, with a groan and his teeth in her neck. Her legs shook violently as he pulled himself out of her, and her eyes were glazed, heavy with lust. 

-

Rowan exchanged a satisfied smirk with Aelin at the sight of her, blissed out, but her hands still reaching for both of them. Theirs. She was, finally, completely theirs, and everyone would be able to tell - based on the two bite marks on either side of her neck. He rolled off, coming back with a glass of water and a washcloth, Aelin sat, propped against the pillows, running fingers through her hair as Y/n curled into her side. 

“We’re not done with you yet.” Aelin said, her voice soft and smooth but with a teasing edge to it. 

“I’m not done with you either.” A half grin formed on the female’s face, as she accepted the glass. 

They didn’t get much sleep that night. 

-

Aelin felt incredibly satisfied, y/n sleeping curled up between her and Rowan. She felt safe enough to finally accept it - surprising them with it or not. She was theirs. She always had been, but now in a way that went so deep, their souls could never be completely separated.   

#rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin #aelin x y/n #aelin x reader #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader #throne of glass fic #throne of glass smut #throne of glass

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Round 2

Propaganda why Marinette Dupain-Cheng is insufferable:

She easily gets away with bad, stalkerish behavior, it always feels like she can ‘do no wrong’ unless the show wants us to pity her, and the show writers want us to think she is a quirky and socially awkward girl when throughout the series we see her be friends with basically everyone in Paris with many connections to high up places.

I get she has social anxiety but the way she goes about stalking Adrien is kind of the worst like she even has creep shots of him hanging in her room? That’s weird. I think Adrien’s going through enough without having to deal with the main character being his stalker lol. I know they’re (spoilers) at this point but in the beginning it was so sus

In the newest season, Marinette hides the fact that Hawkmoth was Adrien’s dad. This leads to the bastard getting a statue and honored as a hero after his death. Adrien now never gets to know the fact that his abusive and neglectful father was the one trying to kill him and is instead proud of him.

Her crush on Adrien is like a black hole for her character. Things she’s done because of it:

1) stolen property

2) ruined dates

3) humiliated other characters

4) has a chart of Adrien’s daily schedule for the next year in her room (this is stalking)

5) broke into his room and sniffed his pillow (also a crime)

6) sniffed, took the hair from, and tried to kiss what she thought was a wax statue of Adrien

7) convinced her parents to let her go to China. Why? Not because she wants to connect with her mother’s heritage, not even because she’s a budding fashion designer and Shanghai is considered a fashion hotspot. It’s because Adrien was there.

I started the show, watched one episode, and never tried again. I simply do not vibe with her.

shes annoyinng anf shes a stalker

I love fanon miraculous but by god she has got to stop obsessively stalking her crush and generally making a ton of other terrible decisions. I’d submit Adrien too but he’s more of a deuteragonist

More propaganda

Anti propaganda

Propaganda why Aelin Ashryver Galathynius is insufferable:

Your basic Mary Sue. Styled as the incredibly cool best-assassin in the land at only 18, she nevertheless is constantly snuck up upon, distracted by pretty boys, and possesses not an ounce of wit. In a competition between murderers and thieves to win a place as the King's Champion, she sees a bag of chocolates on her bed that she didn't put there and immediately starts eating it and gushing about how much she adores chocolate - nevermind that they just had a trial involving poison, which several of her competitors are adept at. She's always right, and other characters exist just to tell her how awesome and beautiful and wonderful she is. And then she turns out to be a super special magical fey princess!

I generally don't believe that a Mary Sue is a bad thing, but the only thing I remember about this book was how she had been in prison for years but was super young but was also still the most super-specialest assassin. And she kept reading when she should have been training or sleeping. Like, girl, this is not final exams where you can stay up all night and then roll into class in your pajamas and still squeak out a C. It's supposed to be life and death. Her character traits didn't make her relatable, they made her a moron

Heir to a kingdom plus turquoise eyes plus best assassin in the world plus protagonist centered morality

Anti propaganda

#marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #mlb marinette #mlb #aelin galathynius #celaena sardothien #throne of glass #aelin ashryver galathynius #insufferable protagonist poll #insufferable protagonist tournament #tournament poll

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 10

Hello Dear Readers! Here comes the new chapter, it's 6239 words, so be prepared.

What do you think about a game? It's almost Threshing. If you can guess (correctly or close to that) what kind of dragon and/or what kind of signet Aelin will have, then I'll answer one question in private about the story. Even if it'll be a spoiler. Good luck!

Don’t underestimate the challenge of the Gauntlet, Mira. It’s designed to test your balance, strength, and agility. The times don’t matter for shit, only that you make it to the top. Reach for the ropes when you have to. Coming in last is better than coming in dead.

—Page forty-six, the Book of Brennan

I look up, and up, and up, and I can only blink.

“Well, that’s…” Ethan swallows, his head tilted just as far back as mine as we stare at the menacing obstacle course that’s carved into the front of a ridgeline so steep, it might as well be a cliff. The zigzagging death trap of a trail rises above us, climbing in five distinct switchbacks of 180-degree turns, each increasing in difficulty on the way to the top of the bluff that divides the citadel from the flight field and the Vale.

“Amazing.” Liam grins.

Ethan and I turn, both staring at him like he must have hit his head.

“You think that hellscape looks amazing?” Ethan asks.

„I mean look at that. I heard a lot of stories about this, but it’s so much more complex. It will be a real challenge.” Liam grins, his blue eyes dancing in the morning sun as he rubs his hands together, shifting from one toned leg to the other in glee.

“Challenge? Yeah, sure we can go with that.” I laugh at him. “At the gym in the challenges you don’t have a real opponent, it was way too easy for you.”

“You’re one to talk.” Ethan stares at me. “You’ve never lost either.”

“Well…yeah” I scratch my head.

„Still not sure why they call it the Gauntlet,” another squadmate - whose name I don’t remember - says from my right, blowing into his cupped hands to ward off the morning chill. The sun hasn’t touched this little crevice, but it’s shining above the last quarter of the course.

“To ensure dragons keep coming to Threshing by weeding out the weaklings.” An obnoxious girl says, maybe her name is Vila? At some point I should start memorizing their names. But they are fucking annoying.

I shoot her a glare and then shake it off.

“Knock it the fuck off,” the first-year snaps, earning the entire squad’s attention.

My eyebrows lift. They’re really annoying.

“We have such a lovely and cohesive squad.” I murmur to Liam. “What is his name anyway?”

“Do you really not know their names?” He laughs at me. “We’ve been squadmates for a while.”

“I know your name, Ethan’s and Vila’s too. Oh and there’s Theo and Zanaya.” I list.

“That’s all?” He grins “You know my name because we’re friends. Ethan is my friend and he hangs out with us during classes, so that doesn’t count.” He counts the names on his fingers. “And the only reason you know Vila’s name is because she annoys you. Theo and Zanaya don’t count either. They’re the squadleader and his executive.”

“Fine. I admit it. I don’t know their names. “I give in. “They die like flies. We’re the smallest squad.”

“Then why do you think it’s called the gauntlet?” I hear shouting behind me.

God. They’re still arguing.

„It’s called the Gauntlet because this is the cliff that guards the Vale,” Professor Emetterio says, walking up behind our squad, his shaved head glinting in the growing sunlight. “Plus, actual gauntlets—armored gloves made of metal—are slippery as hell, and the name stuck about twenty years ago.” He cocks a brow at Vila and the man next to her. “Are you two done arguing? Because all six of you have exactly an hour to get to the top before it’s another squad’s chance to practice, and from what I’ve seen of your agility on the mat, you’re going to need every second.”

There’s a grumble of assent in our little group.

“As you know, hand-to-hand challenges are on hold for the next two and a half weeks before Presentation so you can focus here.” Professor Emetterio flips a page on the little notebook he carries. “Liam, you’re going to show them how it’s done, since you’re the best of the squad. Then Aelin, Jake, Ethan, Rio and Vila.” He finishes calling out every name in our squad, and we file into order. “You’re the smallest squad so far. You need to work hard to remain intact. If you’ll lose two or three more cadets then you’ll be dissolved and you’ll be assigned to another squad. Wait here for a second.” He walks past us, waving at someone high up on the cliff. No doubt that someone has a watch.

We wait silently, thinking about what he said. I don’t want to be assigned to another squad. I like it that Liam is my squadmate, and I’m starting to like Ethan too. There’s no guarantee all three of us will be in the same squad.

„Here we go!” Professor Emetterio walks to the head of our line. “You’ll get your time at the top of the course, if you make it, but remember, you’ll still have nine practice sessions before we rank you for Presentation in two and a half weeks, which will determine if the dragons find you worthy at Threshing.”

„Wouldn’t it make more sense to let first-years start practicing this thing right after Parapet?” Ethan asks. “You know, to give us a little more time so we don’t die?”

“No,” Professor Emetterio replies. “The timing is part of the challenge. And some words of wisdom, before you start.”

“There are ropes every six feet that run from the top of the sheer cliffside to the bottom,” he says. “So if you start to fall, reach out and grab a rope. It’ll cost you thirty seconds, but death costs you more.”

Awesome.

“I mean, there’s a perfectly good set of steps over there.” Vila points to the steep staircase carved into the cliff beside the wide switchbacks of the Gauntlet.

“Stairs are for reaching the flight field on the top of the ridgeline after Presentation,” Professor Emetterio says, then lifts his hands toward the course and flicks his wrist, pointing at various obstacles.

The fifteen-foot log at the start of the uphill climb begins to spin. The pillars on the third ascent shake. The giant wheel at the first switchback starts its counterclockwise rotation, and those little posts there? They all twist in opposite directions.

“Every one of the five ascents on this course is designed to mimic the challenges you’ll face in battle.” Professor Emetterio turns to look at us, his face just as stern as it is during our usual combat training. “From the balance you must keep on the back of your dragon, to the strength you’ll need to hold your seat during maneuvers, to”—he gestures upward, toward the last obstacle that looks like a ninety-degree ramp from this angle—“the stamina you’ll need to fight on the ground, then still be able to mount your dragon at a second’s notice.”

The posts knock a chunk of granite loose, and the rock tumbles down the course, smacking every obstacle in its path until it crashes twenty feet in front of us.

“Whoa,” Rio whispers, his brown eyes wide as he stares at the pulverized rock.

„What if we can’t make it up?” Vila asks from my right, securing her long hair in a loose braid, her usual haughtiness not so in-your-face today. “What’s the alternative route?”

“There’s no alternative. If you don’t make it, you can’t get to Presentation, can you? Take your position, Liam,” Professor Emetterio orders, and Liam moves to the beginning of the course. “After he makes it past the final obstacle, so everyone can learn from this cadet completing the course, the rest of you will start every sixty seconds. And…go!”

Liam is off like a shot. He easily runs the fifteen feet across the single log spinning parallel with the cliff face and then the raised pillars, but it takes him two rotations inside the wheel before he jumps through the lone opening, but other than that, I don’t see a single misstep in the first ascent. Not. One.

He turns and rushes toward a series of giant hanging balls that make up the second ascent, jumping and hugging one after another. His feet back on the ground, he turns again and heads up the third ascent, which is divided into two sections. The first part has giant metal rods hanging parallel to the cliff wall, and he easily swings arm over arm, using his body’s weight and momentum to swing the bar forward and reach the next bar hanging half a foot higher than the previous as he climbs the side of the cliff. From the last bar, he jumps onto a series of shaking pillars that make up the second half of this ascent before finally leaping back onto the gravel path.

By the time he reaches the fourth ascent, the spinning logs, Liam’s made it all look like child’s play, and I start to feel a bubble of hope that maybe the course isn’t as difficult as it looks from the ground.

But then he faces a giant chimney formation rising high above him at a twenty-degree angle and pauses.

“You got this!” I yell to encourage him.

As though he heard, he sprints toward the leaning chimney and flings himself upward, grabbing onto the sides by forming an X with his body, then starts hopping up the conduit until he reaches the end and drops down in front of the final obstacle, a massive ramp that reaches up to the top of the cliff’s edge at a nearly vertical climb.

My breath catches in my throat as Liam sprints toward the ramp, using his speed and momentum to carry him two-thirds of the way up the ramp. Just before he starts to fall, he reaches up with one arm and grasps the lip of the ramp and hauls himself over the edge.

Ethan and I cheer for him. He made it. In an almost flawless approach.

“Perfect technique!” Professor Emetterio calls out. “That’s exactly what you should all be doing.”

„Aelin, begin!” Emetterio orders.

Be with me, Zihnal. I haven’t spent nearly enough time at temple for the god of luck to care much about what happens to me right now, but it’s worth a shot.

I bolt up the first part of the ascent, coming to the spinning log within seconds. My stomach feels like it’s being stirred by this balance beam from hell. “It’s just balance. You can balance,” I mumble and start across, jumping off the end to land on the first of four granite columns, each one higher than the last.

There are about three feet between them, but I manage to leap from one pillar to the next without skidding off the ends. And this is the easy part.

I jump into the rotating wheel and run, leaping over the only opening as it flies by once, then watching it come around. Timing. This one is all about timing.

The opportunity comes and I seize it, racing through the opening and turning back onto the gravel path of the second ascent. The buoy balls are just ahead.

I start to hum to calm myself. The music always helps me.

I spring from the edge of the path onto the first ball, grasping it up top. The immediate strain on my shoulders makes me tense but it’s bearable. Not bad.

Throwing my weight, I force the ball to rotate, swinging me toward the next one.

I repeat the motion, grasping from one ball to the next, keeping my eyes on the chains and nothing else.

I still hum as I reach the fifth and final ball. With one last swing, I throw myself sideways, releasing the ball and landing on the shoulder-wide gravel path and I almost hit the wall with my head.

It’s all momentum for the next ascent.

I line my body up with the first metal rod and get ready to sprint forward.

There are three iron rails in front of me, each lined up like a battering ram toward the next.  I then launch myself towards the first. At least the texture gives me something to keep hold of as I work my way hand over hand.

The first clang of iron as the rails meet makes my fingers slip, and I gasp.

I throw myself to the next and move across the rail with the same hand-over-hand motion.

My right hand loses purchase and my weight swings me into face-first of the steep mountainside, my cheek slamming into the rock. A high-pitched ringing erupts in my ears and my vision darkens at the edges.

“Aelin!” Liam shouts from the top.

My other hand is still holding the rail. I can do it.

I’ve survived seven weeks in this damned quadrant, and this course isn’t going to beat me today.

I immediately start the hand over hand to get me to the next one, until I finally let go, landing on the first shaking iron pillar. My brain is rattled as the thing shudders violently, and I leap to the next, barely gaining a foothold before jumping to the gravel path at the end of the ascent.

I reach the twisting staircase posts jutting straight from the side of the cliff face.

Each three-foot-wide timber rotates from its base in one of the steepest sections of the course. I quickly calculate. I need to do it with one go. If I stop they will probably roll me off.

I bounce on my feet, dredging up whatever courage I have left. Then I run. My feet are quick, making contact with each post only long enough to push off for the next, and within a few heartbeats, I’m on the other side.

I hear someone cry out and my head snaps toward the voice, just in time to see Jake wobble and slip on the rails. The air freezes.

“Jake!” I hear Vila screaming.

Our eyes meet, shock and terror filling his wide black eyes as he falls. Halfway down the cliff.

Shit.

“Aelin! Come on, you’re almost up here.” Liam shouts at the top.

I look at him and nod. Yes, I can do it.

I face a giant chimney formation rising high above me at a twenty-degree angle and pause.

God, it’s really high. But if Liam could do it, then so do I.

I sprint toward the leaning chimney and flings myself upward, grabbing onto the sides by forming an X with my body.

Okay, now I need to climb.

I start hopping up the conduit slowly, maybe a little too slowly, until I reach the end and drop down in front of the final obstacle, a massive ramp that reaches up to the top of the cliff’s edge at a nearly vertical climb.

Fuck. It seems the most difficult obstacle of all of them.

But I can’t give up now. It’s the last one. I can do it, I just need to be fast.

I sprint toward the ramp, using my speed and momentum to carry me almost all the way up the ramp.

Just before I start to fall, I reach up and I can grab onto the lip of the ramp with one arm.

My god. I did it.

I reach up with my other arm and haul myself over the edge.

As soon as I stand up, Liam is there and sweeps me into his arms.

“You were great Aelin!” He laughs. “You did it!”

I still can’t believe that it’s over. I hug him back and start laughing too.

“Yeah. It seems I did it.”

“How’s your face?” He pulls back and look at the side of my face. “You hit it pretty hard.”

“It’s not that bad actually. I mean, later it’ll hurt probably.”

“Then we will get some ointment later.”

I nod and then we watch the others.

Ethan has made up his way to us. He was the slowest of us who made it to the top, but it doesn’t matter to me. He did it, and we survived.

Rio made it too. He did a great job and since then he bahaves as if he was already chosen by a dragon. And naturally Vila argues with him about this too.

Vila had to use the ropes at the shaking pillars. She almost fell down like Jack.

Shit. We lost Jack.

There are only 5 of us first-years left.

***

The sun burns my eyes as we stand in morning formation.

“Calvin Atwater,” Captain Fitzgibbons reads, his voice solemn like always.

First Squad, Claw Section, Fourth Wing. He sits two rows behind me in Battle Brief. He sat.

There’s nothing special about this morning. Our first trial on the Gauntlet has made the roll longer, but it’s just another list on just another day…except it’s not. It’s not like the first day anymore. I know more than half of the names as they’re called. “Newland Jahvon,” he continues.

Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing.

We have to be in the twenties by now. How can this be all there is? We say their names once and then go on as if they never existed?

„Aurelie Donans.”

Shit. She was Vi’s squadmate. She told me what happened yesterday. Watching one of your friends falls to death? It’s cruel.

I look at Violet and see that she ripped open one of the scabs along her cheek. A trickle of blood follows as the next name is called.

***

“You’re sure about this?” Dain asks Violet the next night - as I approach them - two worried lines between his brows as he clasps Violet’s shoulders.

“If her parents aren’t coming to bury her body, then I should be the one to handle her things. I’m the last person she saw,” She explains, rolling her shoulders to adjust the weight of Aurelie’s pack.

Every Basgiath parent has the same option when their cadet is killed. They can retrieve the body and personal effects for burial or burning or the school will put their body under a stone and burn their effects themselves. Aurelie’s parents have chosen door number two.

“And you don’t want me to go with you?” he asks, palming her neck.

She shakes her head. “I know where the burn pit is.”

“Besides I will be there for her.” I say and stand next to Violet. “Now hands off. We have more important things to do, than listening to you.”

“Cadet Melgren, do I need to remind you that I’m a squadleader? Show some respect.” He growls at me.

“Respect must be earned. And I think it sends a completely different message that you coddle Violet, squadleader.” I raise my eyebrows.

“It’s okay, Dain. We should go.” Violet says then we start to climb the stairs of the academic tower’s turret past the Battle Brief room and up to the stone roof, going by a few other cadets on their way down.

„I never got the chance to ask you if you made it all the way up,” I say.

She shakes her head. “I got caught at the chimney formation and had to use a rope to get back down. I’m too short to span the distance, but I’m not thinking about that tonight. I’ll figure something out before the official timed Gauntlet on Presentation day.”

“I help you. We will figure something out, together. You’re not alone, Vi.” I squeeze her shoulder reassuringly.

The burn pit is nothing more than an extra-wide iron barrel, whose only purpose is to incinerate, and the flames burn bright against the night sky as we stumble out onto the roof.

There’s no one else up here as Violet slips the bag from her shoulder.

I stop a little further away from the pit. She wanted to do it alone, and I will respect her wish.

“I’m so sorry,” I hear her whisper, as she flings it up and over the metal edge of the bin.

The flames catch and whoosh as it becomes more fuel for the fire, just another tribute to Malek, the god of death.

Instead of walking back down the stairs, I make my way to the edge of the turret where Violet stares at the sky.

It’s a cloudy night, but I can make out the shadows of three dragons as they approach from the west and even see the ridge where the Gauntlet lays, waiting to claim its next victim.

It won’t be me.

I stand here, patiently waiting for Violet to be ready to go back, letting minutes tick by before the bells sound for curfew. We climb back down the stairs without a word.

We walk through the courtyard, empty but for a couple who can’t decide if they’d rather kiss or walk near the dais.

“I don’t want go back yet.” Vi whispers while avoiding my eyes.

“Then we won’t. Come, if I remember correctly there’s an alcove over there.” I smile at her softly. Understanding the pain, that makes her want to hide.

We’re heading for the alcove where Dain and Vi first sat after Parapet.

It’s almost been two months, and we’re still here. Still waking every morning to the sunrise. Doesn’t that mean something?

I wonder as we sit in silence, watching the stars on the sky.

The door that leads to the tunnel we took to cross the ridgeline to the Gauntlet this morning opens along the courtyard wall, just left of the academic building, and my brow furrows. Who would be returning this late?

Sitting back against the wall, I let the darkness conceal me as Xaden, Garrick, and Bodhi—Xaden’s cousin—pass under a mage light, headed in my direction.

Three dragons. They were out…doing what? There were no training ops that I know of tonight, not that I’m privy to everything third-years do.

“There has to be something more we can do,” Bodhi argues, looking to Xaden, his voice low as they pass by us, their boots crunching on the gravel.

“We’re doing everything we can,” Garrick hisses.

My scalp prickles and Xaden stops mid-step ten feet away, the set of his shoulders rigid.

Shit.

He knows we’re here.

Instead of the usual fear that spikes in his presence, only anger rises in my chest. If he wants to kill me, then fine. I’m over waiting for it to happen. Over walking through the halls in fear.

“What’s wrong?” Garrick asks, immediately looking over his shoulder in the opposite direction, toward the couple who definitely decided making out is more important than getting into the dorms by curfew.

“Go on. I’ll meet you inside,” Xaden says.

„You sure?” Bodhi’s forehead puckers, and his gaze sweeps over the courtyard.

“Go,” Xaden orders, standing completely still until the other two walk into the barracks, turning left toward the stairwell that will take them to the second- and third-year floors. Only when they’re gone does he turn and face the exact spot where we’re sitting.

“I know you know we’re here.” Violet says and moves toward him. “And please don’t prattle on about commanding the dark. I’m not in the mood tonight.”

I try to suppress my laughter as I walk next to Violet, standing between her and Xaden.

“No questions about where I’ve been?” He folds his arms across his chest and studies us in the moonlight. His scar looks even more menacing in this light, but I can’t seem to find the energy to be scared.

“I honestly don’t care.” Vi shrugs and makes her way toward the dorms without another word.

“As much as I enjoy our conversations, I have to go. It’s curfew after all.” I say.

“Are you going to tell someone that we were out?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No. I don’t care what you do.” I cross my arms. “It’s probably the best if I don’t know anyway.” I mutter silently.

He cocks his head to the side. “You really don’t care, do you?”

I just shake my head.

“What are you doing out after curfew, Sunshine?”

“Counting the stars, what else?” I retort. “How about you? Feel like sharing?” I ask mockingly, knowing he’s not about to answer me.

“The same.”

Sarcastic ass.

“Look, are you planning to kill us or not? The anticipation is starting to annoy the fuck out of me.” I ask.

“Haven’t decided yet,” he answers, like I’ve just inquired about his dinner preferences, but his gaze narrows on my cheek. There’s still a bruise from yesterday’s Gauntlet practice.

“Well, could you?” I mutter. “It would definitely help me make my plans for the week.”

“Am I affecting your schedule, Sunshine?” There’s a definite smirk on those lips.

“I just need to know what my chances are that Violet and I are going to make it through alive.” My hands curl into fists.

The ass has the nerve to smile. “That’s the oddest way I’ve ever been hit on—”

“Not my chances with you, you conceited prick!” Fuck this. Fuck all of this. I move past him, but he catches my wrist, his grip light but his hold firm.

His fingertips on my pulse make it skitter.

“Chances at what?” he asks, tugging me just close enough that my shoulder brushes his biceps.

“Nothing.” He wouldn’t understand. He’s a damned wingleader, which means he’s excelled at everything in the quadrant, even somehow managing to get past his own last name.

“Chances at what?” he repeats. “Do not make me ask three times.” His ominous tone is at odds with his gentle grasp, and shit, does he have to smell so good? Like mint and leather and something I can’t quite identify, something that borders between citrus and floral.

“At living through all of this! I have to figure it out how Violet can make it up the damned Gauntlet. And there’s my own problems I have to deal with, and here you are, annoying me.” I half-heartedly tug at my wrist, but he doesn’t let go.

“I see.” He’s so infuriatingly calm, and I can’t even get a grip on one of my emotions.

„No, you don’t. You’re probably celebrating because she’ll fall to her death and you can kill me anytime, we saw that on the mat the previous time.”

“Killing you wouldn’t be any trouble, Sunshine. It’s leaving you alive that seems to cause the majority of my trouble.”

My gaze swings up to clash with his, but his face is unreadable, cloaked in shadow, go figure.

“Sorry to be a hassle.” Sarcasm drips from my voice. “You know the problem with this place?” I tug my arm back again, but he holds fast. “Besides you touching things that don’t belong to you?” My eyes narrow on him.

„I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” My stomach flutters as his thumb brushes my pulse and he releases my wrist.

I answer before I can think better of it. “Hope.”

“Hope?” He tips his head closer to mine, as if he wasn’t sure he heard me right.

“Hope.” I nod. “Someone like you would never get it, but I knew coming here was a death sentence. It didn’t matter that I’ve been trained my entire life to enter the Riders Quadrant, but it isn’t a guarantee that I will survive it; but when General Melgren gives an order, you can’t exactly ignore it.” Gods, why am I running off at the mouth to this man? What’s the worst he’ll do? Kill you?

„Sure you can.” He shrugs. “You just might not like the consequences.”

I roll my eyes, and to my utter embarrassment, instead of pulling away now that I’m free, I lean in just a little, like I can siphon off some of his strength. He certainly has enough to spare.

“I knew what the odds were, and I came anyway, concentrating on that tiny percentage of a chance that both of us would live. And then we make it almost two months and I get…” I shake my head, clenching my jaw. “Hopeful.” The word tastes sour.

“Ah. And then you lose a squadmate, and you are reminded that you can’t help Violet, and you give up. I’m starting to see. He holds my gaze locked with his. “Here’s the thing, Melgren. Hope is a fickle, dangerous thing. It steals your focus and aims it toward the possibilities instead of keeping it where it belongs—on the probabilities.”

“So I’m supposed to do what? Not hope that we live? Just plan for death?”

“You’re supposed to focus on the things that can kill you so you find ways to not die.” He shakes his head. “I can barely count the number of people in this quadrant who want you dead, either as revenge against your father or because you’re just really good at pissing people off, but you’re still here, defying the odds.” Shadows wrap around me, and I swear I feel a caress along the side of my wounded cheek. “It’s been rather surprising to watch, actually.”

“Happy to be your entertainment. I’m going to bed.” Spinning on my heel, I head toward the entrance to the barracks, but he’s right behind me, close enough that the door would slam in his face if he wasn’t so unnaturally fast at catching it.

“Maybe if you stopped sulking in your self-pity, you’d see that you have everything you need.” he calls after me, his voice echoing down the hallway.

“My self-what?” I turn around, my jaw dropping.

“People die,” he says slowly, his jaw ticking before he drags in a deep breath. “It’s going to happen over and over again. It’s the nature of what happens here. What makes you a rider is what you do after people die. You want to know why you’re still alive? Because you’re the scale I currently judge myself against every night. Every day I let you live, I get to convince myself that there’s still a part of me that’s a decent person. So if you want to quit, then please, spare me the temptation and fucking quit. But if you want to do something, then do it.”

What an annoying prick.

I open my mouth to retort when I hear footsteps.

We turn around and face the man whom I know too well. He’s the aide of General Melgren.

Fuck, he must be back. I can feel my face turning as white as a ghost.

Xaden must see it too because he steps in front of me without a word. He’s trying to protect me?

“Wingleader Riorson I need a word with Cadet Melgren, leave.” The man says to Xaden without a glance at him.

“She’s in my chain of command. I don’t see why I should leave her here.” He crosses his arms. “If you have something to say then do it in front of me.”

“Fine.” The man nods and stares at me. “General Melgren wishes to see you. He returned from the front and like’d to hear your report.”

My god. I didn’t prepare a suitable story for him. I will be in big trouble, if not worse.

“I understand, I’ll be there.” I nod.

Without another word the man turns around and leaves us alone.

“What’s all this about?” Xaden looks at me with an unreadable expression.

“Nothing. You heard him. The General wants to see me. I have to go.” I say and try to walk past him to the doors but he grabs my arm.

“Nothing? I don’t think so.” He leans closer. “You look as pale as a ghost.”

“It was a surprise, nothing else.” I try to lie, in hope that he lets it slide. I don’t want him to find out.

“Why don’t you call him father?” He observes me. “You always call him General. He’s your father isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is. It’s just that we’re cadets and it wouldn’t be appropriate.” I yank my arm and he releases me. “Now if you excuse me, I have to go.”

I walk out the door, towards the building where the offices are located. I feel nauseous. Everystep on the stairs is harder. I’m scared.

I stop in front of his door. Breath in and out. Then I knock.

“Enter.”

I open the door and enter his office. The air is chilling because of the open window. I stand in front of his desk and wait until he’s done with writing whatever he’s writing.

“What happened since we talked last time?” He puts down his pen and looks at me with a cold gaze.

“The challanges are over for now, we started practicing on the Gauntlet.” I try to keep it short.

“How many challanges did you lose?”

“I didn’t lose a single one.” I reply in an emotionless tone. I need to lock up my feelings as usual. This is the only way to survive it. Later…later I can think about it.

“That was expected.” He nods with approval as he stands up and walks around the desk. “The Gauntlet?”

“Yesterday was our first session, I made it up on my first try.” I answer.

“And what about that Riorson kid and the other marked-ones?” He raises an eyebrow and stands in front of me.

I gulp.

“There’s nothing that’s worth mentioning.” I try and hope so hard he’d accept it.

He grabs my arm tightly and yanks me toward him.

“I will decide if it is worth it or not.” He squeezes my arm tighter. It will leave a bruise. “Do you understand, Cadet?”

“Yes, General.” I reply quickly.

“Good. Now tell me what you know.” He releases my arm and I try not to show that it hurt.

“They attend classes like anyone else. They don’t stand out.” I say the basic facts that anyone can know. I don’t want to betray Liam and his friends. “Most of the other cadets are avoiding them. Some of them are good at studying while others at fighting. They seem pretty normal to me.”

“Hm. And Riorson?” He asks with a calculating look.

“We don’t have much common classes. At Battle Brief he’s observant and clever. At the gym he’s strong and quick. He spends a lot of time with the leader of the Flame Section, Garrick Tavis.” I say only what’s neccesary to ease his suspicion.

“Do you ever see them in groups larger than three?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

The night at the tree. Images flashes through my mind. But… they didn’t do anything wrong.

“No. Never.” I shake my head.

“I see.” He looks at me with a gaze that makes me chill to the bones. “That’s all you could gather the past weeks? I heard you’re friends with Colonel Mairi’s son.” He spat the word friend as if it’s a disease.

“I’m close with him because of his relationship with Xaden, and he’s a first-year too.” I lie to him. I can’t bring more attention to Liam. He’s truly a good person. “He’s a pretty private person, but slowly opening up. Maybe later I can gather more information. I don’t want to look suspicious.”

“And the daggers? Did you see them with the marked-ones?”

“No, they mostly use the ones they earned at challenges.” I’m curious to why that strange dagger is important to him. “If I know what they are, maybe I could search more efficiently.”

“That’s above your paygrade, Cadet.” He says towering over me. “You’re dismissed.” He leans on his desk.

“Understood.” I say and turn toward the doors.

There’s a sound, a dagger cutting through the air. Instinctively I turn around and lean to the side.

I was almost too late. I feel the dagger grazing my cheek and then the blood.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He knows that I lied to him?

In the blink of an eye he’s there and squeezes my neck.

“Don’t forget that the only reason you’re alive is because of my mercy.” He leans closer and cuts off the air supply when he squeezes harder. “I expect useful information from you. If you have to then use your body. You’re only worth is your usefulness. I don’t need people who are useless.”

There’s a knock on the door behind me. He glares at me a moment longer then releases me and pulls out his dagger from the door and sheetes it.

I start coughing and try to squeeze enough air in my lungs through my bruised throat.

Damn. I almost died.

The General is already sitting at his desk when another knock sounds.

“Go, I have better things to do.”

I open the door and see General Sorrengail.

“General.” I greet her in a rasp voice.

She looks at my cheek where the blood still flows with a raised eyebrow then toward my neck.

Shit, I didn’t think. She’s not stupid. I have to get out of here.

I exit the office and without another word I’m stumbling down the stairs.

I need to go out. I need air. My thoughts are fuzzy. I almost died. The sentence repeats again and again in my head.

But depsite of it, I still can’t bear the thought of betraying the marked-ones. Liam. Xaden. I…like them.

But what if it’ll cost me my life?

#fanfiction #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden riorson x oc #xaden x oc

[pembroke]

fireheart 🔥👑 - i've been reading throne of glass and just finished empire of storms, so i wanted to draw aelin circa that book. once i finish them all there's a good chance i'll do a full character design lineup like i did for ACOTAR ✨

#mine #fanart #throne of glass #aelin galathynius #empire of storms #aelin ashryver galathynius

[leiawritesstories]

here have a snippet

model/designer au won the poll so......here y'all go ;) (@everenvacker you're welcome)

beware of 👀 after the cut

~~~~~

Aelin just smirked. "Oh, Whitethorn, surely you thought better than that?"

Rowan's throat bobbed. "Maybe."

She traced one manicured nail along his jaw. "Have I reduced you to single words already? Mmm, lucky me indeed."

Almost before she could blink, he spun them around, bracing her back against the wall and splaying one hand on her thigh, using that damned golden dress's slit to his advantage. "The only one being reduced to single words right now is you, Galathynius." Too softly, he stroked her leg, inching closer to her center.

She hummed, affecting disinterest. "Stop playing shy and do something, then."

"As you wish," he purred, ghosting his lips up her throat in a shadow of a kiss, a shadow of what he wanted to do. Without warning, thriving on her stifled little gasp, he slipped his hand fully between her legs.

Only to discover that she had absolutely nothing on beneath that dress.

#my writing #sneak peek #lil snippet #model and designer au #model rowan #designer aelin #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowaelin spicy times #👀👀👀👀

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Older but Never Wiser

CW: a bit of language

AN: Happy (almost belated) birthday @leiawritesstories my love!! This took way longer than it should have but depending on your time zone this might not be late yet lol, I’m dusting off the cobwebs to give you a little present :)

Based on this prompt: “you’re at the high school reunion and everyone’s talking about how you and [insert jerk here] were prom queen and king, unaware you dumped them years ago, and you’re moping… until you run into your nemesis from high school and you’re thoroughly distracted” (I can’t remember where this came from, it was just in my prompts folder, maybe I came up with it? Maybe not? Idk)

1458 words

Aelin could feel her shoulders begin to hunch as she drew in on herself. She’d known Chaol would be here, of course, but she hadn’t known the subject of prom queen and king would come up so soon, nor their joint senior superlative of “most likely to get married.”

She also hadn’t known Chaol would show up with a gorgeous woman taller than her, hotter than her, certainly classier than her, and wearing a giant diamond on her finger.

“I really thought you two were going to last,” Essar said, voice dripping with pity and sorrow as if she’d truly been invested in the relationship of two high school classmates she’d hardly ever interacted with ten years ago, let alone following graduation.

Aelin smiled tightly. “Well, it was for the best. I’m much happier now with my new boyfriend.” A lie, and an obvious one at that, if Essar bothered to notice. As it was, she was clearly more interested in the piece of gossip than its verity, even a decade after high school.

Some things really didn’t change.

The subject of Chaol was a bitter one—they had lasted several years following high school, and while Aelin had had plenty of time to move on, and multiple relationships following Chaol, seeing him now brought up old insecurities. Being interrogated about the end of their relationship by some random classmate at a high school reunion wasn’t making matters better.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Aelin cut in, “I should make some more rounds. It was nice to catch up with you.” There wasn’t an ounce of sincerity in Aelin’s tone and she couldn’t quite bring herself to care.

She and Essar exchanged goodbyes and Aelin fled, hurrying over to her friend Elide. Elide had been the class valedictorian and was now head of some tech company in Rifthold.

After catching up with her and a few others, Aelin headed for the refreshment table. She wasn’t one for social events, and after the tedious process of listening to the reunion’s organizers give speeches, followed by a solid half hour of unstructured mingling, Aelin was drained.

She poured herself a cup of punch. Staring into the reddish liquid at a distorted reflection of herself, Aelin sighed.

“I can’t believe Aelin Galathynius, socialite, gossip, prom queen extraordinaire, is moping at the snack table at a social event. Hell really has frozen over.”

Aelin started at the voice, looking up to see a man with stark white hair towering over her. He had certainly changed over the past decade, but the sharp pine green eyes clued her in on his identity instantly.

“Rowan Whitethorn,” Aelin drawled, grinning. “You…” She looked him over, taking in the size of his crossed arms, the deep tan, and the hard features. A tattoo snaked up his neck from somewhere underneath his shirt. Aelin whistled. “Time has served you well.”

Rowan chuckled, the sound all too familiar. “You think so?” He paused, and gave her a once-over of his own. “I could say the same.”

Aelin leaned against the table, smiling. “Do tell me what it is you do for a living. Wait—let me guess. Sly business man. Lawyer? Oh, tax collector!”

Another, louder laugh left Rowan’s lips. “I’m a child psychologist.”

Aelin’s jaw dropped. “Damn, okay.”

He grinned. “You’re what, a fashion designer? A housewife?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “I work at a pharmacy.”

Rowan shook his head in disbelief, smiling widely. Silence settled over the pair, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable pause—merely a moment to take in each other after so long. Aelin remembered arguing with the boy this man had once been over schoolwork, over sports, over absolutely nothing.

“Gods, tell me you’re not with that asshole anymore,” Rowan said, breaking the quiet.

Aelin blinked, then felt her lips unconsciously stretch into a another smile. “No, I’m not.”

Rowan hmmed noncommittalaly. “You two were never a good match.”

He was the first person who hadn’t offered her condolences like it was some kind of recent tragedy, and for that Aelin felt her smile turn soft. “Remind me why we hated each other again?”

A breathy laugh. “I believe that was thanks to the time you scraped up the side of my car trying to park on the very first day of junior year.”

“We were sixteen! No one could drive well at that age.” Aelin was grinning.

Rowan crossed his arms. “Or perhaps the time you literally tased me? With a fucking taser?”

Aelin let out a startled laugh. She’d completely forgotten about that. One of the football boys had hosted a party while his parents were out of town, and his mom was a cop so he brought out her taser for a game of whoever can hold onto this $20 while being tased in the hand gets to keep it. Gods, high school had been quite the experience.

“That was part of the game! You took the risk, and you lost; I can’t be blamed for that. Besides, I happen to remember you making out with my boyfriend on one occasion.”

Rowan groaned in faux embarrassment, a hand running though his short locks. “Lorcan dared us to. Besides, you’d already broken up with Dorian at that point, so it didn’t really count.”

Aelin’s face started to ache as she realized just how widely her smile was stretched. “That definitely still counts, but fine, let me think of some other instance you were an asshole to me. I’m sure there were plenty.”

Rowan shook his head, eyes dancing with mirth, and opened his mouth to make a retort—but someone else beat him to it.

“Aelin! I was so happy to spot you here. How have you been?”

Of course, it was Chaol, leering over at her in a suit far too sophisticated for the occasion.

Aelin felt a wave of calm wash over her as she realized that as much as she didn’t want to have a civil conversation with Chaol, she wanted him to have the upper hand even less.

“Chaol, my gods! I’ve been great; I take it you have been as well judging by the beautiful woman on your arm?”

The woman in question blushed, and Aelin wondered what exactly she knew about her.

Chaol grinned and held up the woman’s hand—and the ring perched on her fourth finger—like some kind of prize. “This is Yrene, my fiancée. Yrene, meet Aelin and… Ronan?”

“Rowan,” Rowan correctly coolly, then glanced at Yrene. “It’s a pleasure.”

Chaol nodded dismissively and turned back to Aelin. “Is that a new haircut?”

It had been a solid six years since she’d dated the man, and at least three since they’d crossed paths. “Yes, it is.”

“And how are you getting on with that Fenrys fellow? Still happy?”

The last time Aelin had seen Chaol had been at the grocery story—fucking small towns—with her boyfriend at the time. He hadn’t lasted more than a month.

“No.”

A flicker of glee crossed Chaol’s features, and Aelin writhed internally.

“Much to my benefit, that is,” Rowan interjected. Aelin had nearly forgotten he was still standing with them. “For now I have her all to myself.”

What?

Chaol blinked, dumbfounded. “You two are together?”

Rowan shrugged. “We reconnected a couple years ago and hit it off—better than we ever had in high school,” he added.

Aelin had just enough self-control to paste a smile on her lips. Now understanding what Rowan was doing for, she took his hand casually.

Rowan’s hand envoloped Aelin’s, and his rough calluses scraped against her palm. It took restraint not to shudder, and Chaol be damned, Aelin was no longer paying attention to the conversation. Her world focused in on the warm hand interlaced with her own.

Less interested, probably now that he’d realized he didn’t have much to hang over her head, Chaol said a farewell and retreated with the fiancée who hadn’t spoken a single word. Aelin watched them leave gratefully.

Rowan slipped his hand out of Aelin’s and she almost objected before realizing herself.

“Thank you, Rowan,” Aelin said softly.

Her gaze drifted over to him and snagged on his piercing green eyes.

Rowan stared back at her for a moment. “No problem.”

Aelin shook her head. “It wasn’t no problem. That was very kind of you.”

Rowan shook his head, but said nothing more about the endeavor. “How long are you in town?”

“A whole week. I wanted to stay with my parents for a bit.”

“And I don’t suppose while you’re here you want to grab coffee together? I still need an example of the atrocities you claim I put you through, after all.”

Aelin’s expression turned fiendish. “Does tomorrow work?”

———

Tag List (this is so outdated so lmk if you want to be removed/added!):

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#rowaelin #tog #older but never wiser #my writing

[mariaofdoranelle]

The Courtship Deception - Part 7: Fight or Flight

Fic masterlist

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics

Sorry I disappeared, my mom is running for vice-dean at our uni and the elections got me so hyped!! Keeping track of the gossip alone could be a full-time job heheheheh

Anyway this chapter might go to the top 3 most unserious things I ever wrote lol

Warnings: duel with no depictions of violence; gay pining and heartbreak at its peak

Words: 1011 (oops!)

Aelin sat nestled under Rowan’s arm, both of them waiting at 6:58 p.m. in that forgotten temple. The sun was setting in different hues of blue and orange past crumbled walls, and her lover’s fingers combing through her hair were the only reassuring thing that day; they said, I’m here. I’m here for you.

The rejection of her marriage proposal wasn’t taken to heart—marrying Rowan right now would be a mean to an end, that being living on her own terms. It didn’t surprise her that he didn’t want that for himself.

What did surprise her is that, after all that, he still agreed to fight her suitors. Just because I’m not getting engaged to you this month, it doesn’t mean that I want other dudes to, he previously explained, and there he was: waiting for Chaol and Dorian to show up. After scolding Fenrys for making duel propositions on his behalf, of course, but he was still here at the end of the day.

“So…” Dorian trailed, announcing himself, and beelined his way to them by dodging the temple’s ruins. “How many people did Rowan propose a duel to?”

“Gods.” Chaol coughed, keeping some distance behind Dorian. “I better not die in this shithole.”

Aelin grimaced, just now remembering his allergies—between ancient stones and the moss-covered floor, things weren’t looking good for him.

“Evening, suitors.” Fenrys paced before what was supposed to be the altar, hands clasped behind his back. “As an unofficial coordinator of Aelin’s courtship, I arranged this—“

“I thought it was Rowan’s idea,” Dorian interrupted.

“Rowan challenged you two on a thruel.”

“A what?” Rowan asked.

“A thruel.” The “coordinator” sighed. “A duel of three.”

Chaol frowned. “How does that work—“

“Perfect.” Rowan slapped both hands on his thighs to get up. “Swords or guns?”

Her lips parted slightly. So he knew his way around a sword and a gun both. That’s… fuck, that’s definitely hot.

Fenrys had a devilish grin on. “Guns.”

“But right now?” Chaol looked around, seeking reassurance. “We don’t want to frighten Aelin, right?”

“Don’t worry,” Aelin said, moving to find a better sight of the whole temple. “Aelin isn’t frightened at all.”

None of the men seemed excited about the thruel, but they stood still, waiting for Fenrys to retrieve the guns. Between her three suitors, her bodyguard gave each an odd-looking gun. Aelin squinted her eyes as an attempt to get a better look, make sense of their bulkier build and little kidney-looking black thingy on top. Then he pulled out a bulletproof vest of sorts, but it looked so flimsy.

Wait a second.

“We’re choosing my future husband over paintball?” Aelin shrieked, incredulous.

Not that she was actually marrying any of them, but she had to play the part here.

“Yes,” Fenrys said, eyes hard. “It is an act of bravery, since it bruises like a bitch, and the last thing I need is a prince and a lord dying on my watch.”

“Or two princes,” Chaol added.

Rowan snorted, barely managing to keep his thoughts to himself.

After Fenrys revealed the true nature of the thruel, her suitors had a new lightness on the way they carried themselves, each finding a spot behind the ruins so the game could start.

Dorian even winked at Fenrys, and Aelin had yet to find out what that was about. By the way Chaol’s jaw clenched as he watched, the thruel was heated before it even started.

“Game on!” their designated referee signed.

With cautious advances, Chaol focused on Dorian. The other man did the same, so keen on attacking each other that they seemed to forget that this was a duel of three.

Rowan, who hadn’t moved an inch, sent Fenrys a confused look. A shrug was the only response he got.

Chaol ran to a nearer pillar, firing off a series of shots before he slid into cover again.

“Shoot me!” Dorian shouted, got up from behind his cover, and theatrically threw his gun on the floor. “What’s a paintball bruise compared to what you did to me?”

“What I did to you?” Chaol’s gaze slid from Dorian to Fenrys. Uh-oh. He continued, “You think I should be sorry? Well, I am! I really am sorry I was so hooked on you it upended my entire life—“

“But we were so close!” Dorian said. “I was fighting for you, and I was this close to convincing my mother about our worthiness when I found out about this… ploy to marry Aelin. Seriously, Chaol? My best friend?”

“Oh!” The lord let out an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry, I thought I was your best friend!”

“You might’ve been in the past, but I don’t love you like a best friend anymore!”

Chaol’s face softened. “You love me?”

The two went on, too wrapped up to notice Aelin leaning closer to Fenrys and whispering, “Should we give them some privacy?”

“Nah.” A pause so her friend could catch on part of their dialogue. “I’m too curious about why they were chasing you.”

Aelin thought it was out of parental pressure like in her case, which probably happened with them too, but it seemed to be also to affect each other. She met Rowan’s gaze from the other side of the temple, and the poor guy looked lost, still in his thruel position.

Dorian soon caught up on his lack of privacy and led Chaol out of the temple so they could talk more, and only then Rowan left his spot behind a ruin. “Did I win?”

Aelin sighed, a fake wondrous look on her face. “My hero,” she joked.

He laughed and tugged her to him, trailing pecks from her face down her neck.

“You won the last round,” Aelin admitted before picking up Dorian’s gun from the floor. “Wanna lose the next one?”

His eyes glinted with amusement. “Do you want to lose it?”

They had been on dates—as much as a hard-working outcast prince and a sheltered heiress could within the span of twelve days—but none of them were as interesting as paintball at an abandoned temple.

“Hey!” Fenrys shouted, running their way. “I wanna play too!”

A/N: i can’t believe that it's finally me and you and you and me just us and your friend Steve DODODODODODODO STEVE

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @mariaofdoranelle-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

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#rowaelin #throne of glass microfics #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #the courtship deception #tcd

[artisticallyalexis]

"To whatever end? He nodded and she joined hands with him blood to blood and soul to soul, his other arm coming around to grip her tightly"

~Heir of Fire, Sarah J Maas

I couldn't be happier with how this came out. This is my fourth serious digital painting, I have a long way to go in terms of composition, lighting, and what not, but I am so happy of how far my art has come in the last month of serious work. I love Rowan and Aelin and maybe sometime in the future when I have a greater skill set I will revisit this and see what I can make of it then.

#illustration #character design #illustrator #digital illustration #digital painting #fantasy art #illustrative art #drawing #fantasy #procreate #throne of glass fanart #throne of glass #aelin fireheart #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan x aelin #aelin galythinius #rowan #rowan whitethorn #high fantasy #high fae #fantasy world #fanart #character art #digital artwork #digital art #digital drawing #digital aritst #drawing process #drawing progress

[little-caracalart]

My first tav from bg3! Her name was Aelin, but I never finished the playthrough because I accidentally skipped a lot of content in act 2 and lost motivation😂😭 I really liked her design tho! She was a druid^^ Druids are the first class I play in every game that has said class, even though I usually like other classes' gameplay more. But I really like the whole concept of druids and how connected they are to nature! So I'll probably give it another try once I've tried more of the other classes^^

#artists on tumblr #artwork #digital art #digital illustration #digital painting #my art #portrait #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #my tav #bg3 tav #bg3 druid #druid

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, seventy

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: Chapter seven-fucking-zero. Let the rain fall down. Holy shit. Here we go.

The four-flight descent from the master suite down to the kitchen was torturous. She was annoyingly in tune with Rowan. She could feel the slightest flick of his eyes, every time he opened his mouth and then shut it tight again, the change in his gait every time he slowed his pace to walk more in time with her — but all it did was twist the rusty knife in her side, spreading her pain with each shallow breath.

As they rounded the corner of the last flight, Rowan’s hand swung so that it brushed against her knuckles, and she couldn’t help but snatch her hand away, resting in front of her waist and far, far, far from his possible grasp. Gods, she was not going to be able to keep it together during this dinner. And it was only their second day of vacation. And her friends weren’t idiots. They’d surely notice something was amiss.

She was wondering how to best keep them in the dark about her current subject of ire when Rowan slid into the seat between Chaol and Dorian at the far end of the table. His eyes flashed with such hurt that it re-sparked the bolt of anger swirling inside her. Where did he get off pretending like he was the hurt party between the two of them?

“Uh ohhhh…” Dorian chuckled as his bright eyes flicked between both ends of the table. “Mom and dad are fighting.”

Everyone around them laughed, but Aelin couldn’t even muster up a smile, and Rowan’s brow furrowed further.

“We’re fine,” Aelin forced herself to say, but she was so not fine. She barely enjoyed the multi-course meal that her friends had spent so long preparing. Based on the sounds everyone else was making, she was sure it was delicious, but she couldn’t even taste it through the iron of her anger. She made sure to “mmm” in all the right moments, but she was grateful that no one engaged in real conversation with her because she wasn’t sure she listened a single word that was said the whole time. Instead, her anger grew into new fiery magnitudes as she sat and watched Rowan pout.

The fire sparked more as Rowan excused himself halfway through their after-dinner movie to go upstairs to shower and never returned. Why was he the one allowed to pout? And as the flames flickered, heating her all the way through, Aelin was blessed with a genius idea. If he wanted to pout, she’d give him something real to pout about.

She stood, resolved in her plan, and she swore that Manon’s eyes were glowing as she smirked devilishly.

“Give him hell, babe.”

And she would. Aelin felt lighter than she had in hours as she made her way back up to their bedroom, fully resolved.

As she predicted, Rowan’s eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn’t asleep. This was part of his pouting process. His freshly showered hair was still damp over his strained brows as he muttered lowly to himself. She knew he heard her enter because his muttering paused, but he barely cracked an eye open as she went to her suitcase and pulled her nightgown from the bottom and took it into the bathroom to change.

Nightgown was perhaps too polite a word to describe the thin scrap of a garment she’d brought with her. It was indecent, was what it was. Aelin pulled the lacy fabric over her head and pulled it down and gasped. The it clung to her every curve, showing off the parts of her body that were (barely) covered by its low neckline and even shorter hem. Her skin seemed to glow in contrast to the delicate pink lace, which looked nearly transparent beneath the fluorescent lights overhead. Her anger had momentarily subsided, replaced with a burning confidence. She looked incredible.

Taking a deep inhale, she swung the door open and moved across the room to discard her other clothes into the plastic bag she’d designated for laundry. Despite not sparing him a glance, she could feel the exact second Rowan’s eyes opened and spotted her. As she bent lower, she could practically hear him choke on his own inhale.

“Wh-what’s that?” he asked, and she had to bite back her grin as she looked over her shoulder as innocently as she could.

“Oh, this?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes ravenous as he scanned her barely clothed form. She bit back another smile as he sat up further, arms crossed over his bare chest.

“It’s a nightgown.” She paused and widened her eyes for effect. “It’s cute, right?”

He practically wheezed as he shook his head. “Is there not… a bottom half?”

Aelin noted his hands balling into fists, grasping at the sheets below him as he attempted to relax into the pillow behind him, turning out the lights in the room one by one until the only one remaining was on the table beside him. His eyes tracked her the entire time.

“Nope,” she said. “It’s so much hotter here than at home, and you know I hate sweating when I sleep, so I brought a few with me.”  

His eyes burned hotter with desire as she hoisted herself onto the bed and crawled over to him. His eyes lowered to her chest where the front of the nightgown was gapping slightly, and his jaw was loose as she crawled closer.

“I didn’t know you had—clothing like that.” As she finally reached his side of the bed, he brushed his finger against the lace, and recoiled quickly, as if the fabric had burned him. “And you have more?”

“Nightgowns?”

He grunted an affirmative.

“Yup.”

Rowan visibly gulped.

“I know we need to talk, but can we table it for night?” she asked, leaning even closer to him.  

“You want to table it?” he asked, his hand reaching out slightly between them, ghosting against the skin of her thigh.

He looked so overcome with lust and desire that she almost felt bad as she reached across him, pressing her curves against his bare chest.  

“Mmhmm,” she said, batting her eyes at him, loving the dazed expression that overtook his face in reaction. “I’m sooooo tired.”

“Tired?”

His lusty expression was blanketed in sudden darkness as she reached past him and turned his tableside lamp off.

“Night, Ro.”

She rolled to her side, her bare back and most of her butt exposed to him, and for a few seconds there was only the sound of rustling sheets as she nestled down. She thought they were finished talking for the night when Rowan spoke up again, “What other colors did you bring?”

Aelin smiled to herself. “Why? What colors do you want to see?”

“All of them,” he said. “Green…gold...” She heard him roll to his back and turn his face to the ceiling, both of them falling into a silence so thick with tension she felt itchy. She could practically feel Rowan’s desire through the dark, practically hear his teeth grinding with frustration.

It wasn’t until thirty minutes later, when she heard him slip out of bed and turn on an extremely cold shower, that her eyes finally fell closed and sleep overtook her.

. . .

The next morning, Aelin awoke early again, but this time to an empty bed. The room felt cold and dark, especially with the ominous grey clouds threatening to open up and pour hanging outside the window. Ugh. Guess they’d be looking at some indoor activities today.

Whereas Aelin had awoken filled with inspiration and creativity yesterday, she felt bogged down in her own frustrations today. Her taunting nightgown had done its job, but she didn’t feel any better. And she certainly didn’t enjoy waking up without Rowan, despite how mad at him she was. Which… she was. Still. Very mad.

The house was quiet as she threw on some sweats and grabbed her journal. Despite how much drama it had caused — well, it hadn’t caused any drama, really, it was an inanimate object who had no agency but still — she had really enjoyed revisiting it. Journaling was a rare opportunity for self-reflection and solitude, and she enjoyed being able to just let whatever she was feeling come out through her words.

She was just finishing her cup of coffee when Aedion staggered into the kitchen. He overfilled a large mug of his own coffee and slumped across the table from Aelin.

Aelin snorted. “Rough night?”

Aedion glared up at her. “You could say that.”

“In Dorian’s bed?” she asked, but Aedion’s eyeroll shut that down quickly.

“I wish,” he groaned. “Alas, I was up all night watching Golden Girls with your surly boyfriend.”

“What?”

Well, that had Aelin’s attention.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. He didn’t tell me anything.” He paused. “He’s not really a man of many words, is he?”

Aelin shrugged. “So, you just sat and watched tv together all night?”

Aedion nodded. “Pretty much.” He gestured toward the family room. “I went back to bed when he finally passed out… like… two hours ago? But my stupid brain wakes me up at the same time every day, no matter what, so I’m up again.”

“I’m sorry,” Aelin apologized.

But Aedion simply shrugged. “It was weird, but kinda nice to have the company. I’m usually up all night alone.”

Aelin knew Aedion well enough to knew that was a prompt. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She reached her hand forward and laced fingers with his and squeezed. Her superhero of a cousin had always seemed larger than life to her, and to see the dark circles stained beneath his eyes… well, she knew there was more lurking underneath than just his brush off answer of not sleeping.

He was opening his mouth to answer when Lysandra, Manon, and Elide made their way into the kitchen.

“Later,” he said, pulling his hand back and raising his mug in greeting to the newcomers.

“So, it’s pretty gross out there,” Lysandra said, wrinkling up her nose in annoyance as she poured her coffee. “There’s an arcade pretty nearby with a million indoor activities — laser tag, blacklight bowling, batting cages, bumper cars, and approximately a hundred arcade games, but it’s supposed to rain on and off for the rest of the week, so, it might be jumping the gun to go there immediately.”

“I don’t mind staying here,” Elide said, eyeing Manon like a piece of dessert and making Aelin’s heart pang with jealousy. That’s what she wanted to be doing all week. But stupid Rowan had to ruin it with his stupid lack of boundaries. Oh well, at least someone was utilizing this spring break week properly.

“Totes. And don’t think I didn’t clock that massive closet filled with games,” Aedion added. “A chill day with some board games?”

“DON’T TRUST HIM!” Aelin shouted, pointing at Aedion with an accusatory glare.

“What?”

“A chill day of board games?!” she asked, incredulous. “one is less chill about board games.”

“Except for you!” he laughed. “And she cheats.”

“Oh my god, are you ever going to get over that? Wagyu is in the Scrabble dictionary. We confirmed it,” she said, having had this fight with him approximately a million times in their lives.

“It’s a proper noun! It shouldn’t have counted!”

“Well then, neither should have margarita!”

“It’s a type of drink.”

“Just like wagyu is a type of beef,” Rowan interrupted, loafing into the kitchen with a tired smile. He rubbed at his messy hair and yawned loudly as he slid into the chair next to Aedion, nudging his arm gently. “It’s been at least five years. Can’t you let it go?”

Aedion grinned. “Never.”

She took a second to take in Rowan’s disheveled appearance, but his bloodshot eyes and haystack hair it did nothing to satisfier her. Instead, it made her want to shove her head against his chest and kiss his frown away. But she leaned back and stuck her tongue out at her cousin, irrationally annoyed at her own reaction to Rowan’s sudden appearance. She had been so proud of herself last night, but her hours of sleep had done nothing but make her weak against his presence. She needed to batten down her emotional hatches and prepare to push against him. Ugh.

Lysandra scoffed. “Okay, well, maybe let’s keep Scrabble in the closet.”

“Who’s in the closet?” Dorian asked as he rifled through the cabinet and pulled out a box of cookies and a tub of frosting. Without waiting for an answer, he tore open the package and dipped the cookie into the frosting, and popped it into his mouth.

“Ohhh, me too, me too,” Aelin reached out with grabby hands, knowing that a sugar rush was definitely the answer to her less than optimal mood. Dorian walked to the table and plopped the sweets in front of her, still hovering, so as not to leave the sweets on their own.

“Your metabolism is a medical marvel,” Aedion muttered.

“Thank you,” Dorian and Aelin replied in unison, causing them to break into giggles and dig into the frosting again.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, but Aelin didn’t fail to notice that she stole a cookie from the open container and dipped it into her coffee.

“So, what’d I miss?” Dorian asked through sugar-laden bites. “Something about a closet?”

“Board game closet,” Aedion clarified.

“Mmm, I’m more into video games.”

Lysandra went over to a side console and pulled the door open, revealing a neatly organized row of consoles. “We’ve got those, too.”

“Fuck yeah!” Dorian cheered far too loudly for most of the people who had just barely woken up. “Should we set up a tournament? Brackets?”

“So competitive,” Aedion smirked.

Manon pinched her nose and yawned exaggeratedly. “I’m not awake enough for this level of enthusiasm.” She yawned loudly as she grabbed Elide’s hand. “We’re going back to bed.”

Elide giggled as they both grabbed their coffees and headed off to bed to do anything but sleep. Aelin thougth that maybe Rowan would do the same thing, seeing as he had clearly not slept well, but he simply sat there quietly as Lysandra listed out all the games she had and asked who wanted to play what.

Chaol rolled out of bed midway through the discussion, helping them come up with an extreme game bracket for the day.

They started with a rousing game of Monopoly, which Aedion crushed (but only because he was a known cheater), then moved onto Clue where Chaol surprised them all by winning. But Rowan played quietly, studiously avoiding eye contact with Aelin and sitting as far away from her as possible. By the time they were halfway through the game of Life, she was fully furious at him again. Her anger was compounded by the occasional squeal of giggles that floated from across the house where Manon and Elide were still holed up, and Aedion and Dorian’s heavy-handed flirting. It wasn’t fair. She and Rowan had worked so hard to get to where they were, and they finally had a full unsupervised week and a giant king-sized bed and more nightgowns than she could possibly wear, and he was avoiding eye contact with her??? This was all his fault to begin with!

She channeled her anger as she sped around the Super Mario Cart track, throwing shell after shell at his Link, seeking out any kind of reaction.

“What the hell, Ace?” His eyes flashed at her furiously as Link fell off the track from spinning out on her well-placed banana.

His annoyance only fueled her further, focusing on smashing the bike her Princess Peach was riding against his car again and again.

“Hey!”

Rowan stood suddenly, using his entire body to try and smash her back.

“Uh, you guys know you’re supposed to be racing and not killing each other, right?” Lysandra asked as her Tanooki Mario (or Furry Mario as she referred to him as) zipped by them.

“Let them fight it out,” Aedion laughed, his Donkey Kong lapping the fighting pair again. Aelin hadn’t even noticed that she’d stood up and was shoulder to shoulder with Rowan as they fought each other, using whatever weapon they came across to throw at the other. She dodged his bomb, but his red shell hit Peach square in the face, knocking her off course. She retaliated by driving right into the back of his car, causing him to step closer and lean into her as they fought. The feel of his arm against hers gave her a shocking thrill, and she momentarily lost focus, letting him pull ahead of her. Not that their rankings mattered at this point; they were nearly a full lap behind everyone else.

“FUCK!” Rowan growled as Dorian’s Yoshi crossed the finish line. He threw down his controller with a loud whoop and danced around the coffee table, bragging about how he was the King of Kart, how no one would ever beat him.

“Again?” Rowan asked, eyeing Aelin, who nodded immediately.

Everyone else bowed out to go put together some lunch, but that was fine. Aelin and Rowan needed their alone time. It wasn’t quite like what she imagined their alone time would look like, but it was necessary nonetheless. She let him choose the racetrack, and he of course chose her nemesis: Rainbow Road.

“Fine by me,” she said.

Neither of them sat, aggressively pushing against each other as they whipped around the course.

“Get out of my way!” Aelin shouted, but Rowan was suddenly just as fired up as she was.

“Over my dead body, Princess!” he yelled back as Link narrowly avoided a rogue banana peel.

Aelin growled, flashing her teeth at him as she sped around the part of the course she knew best. She felt like she was flying, her heart soaring with each sharp turn and each coin she accumulated.

“Nooooo,” Rowan groaned as Aelin shoved against him, causing him to lose his concentration and fall behind. His thumbs fumbled on the controller, and Aelin used the moment of distraction to hit him with a shell and beat him by a mile to the finish line.

“HA!” she said, doing her own victory dance.

Rowan’s face scrunched into one of disdain as he flopped back onto the couch. He rubbed at his face and closed his eyes, his exhaustion zapping her of the thrill she felt from her win.

“Ace…” he said with a soft sigh. “Can we please talk?”

Her shoulders tensed and she shook her head.

“Please?”

“I’m still so mad at you, Ro,” she finally said, barely whispering.

“That’s why we should talk. Just, get it out.” He reached out and laced his fingers with hers. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

But he shook his head. “No, you’re not. And I did that. I know I did.”

She took a deep breath. “I can’t pretend like it’s fine. It’s not,” she said.

“But you’re not ready for me to apologize?” he asked. “I was up all night thinking about it, and…”

“I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“So, what, you’re just not going to talk to me for the rest of the week?”

She shrugged, her refusal to talk seeming nonchalant, even though pain tugged at her stomach each time she looked at his sad green eyes.

She didn’t know why she wasn’t, but even knowing that he wanted to apologize, she didn’t want to hear it. Maybe it’s that she knew she would cave immediately, and she wanted him to stew and understand just how badly he’d messed up. So, yeah. She was choosing to stay angry.

“Okay, well… let me know when you’re ready,” he said.

“I will.”

And though she knew they’d come to some sort of stalemate, a rough truce, it didn’t stop her from breaking out yet another nightgown as they made their way to bed that night. This one was a silky material that looked like molten gold, the soft fabric rippling as she strutted across the room. It was just as short as the pink lace number from the night before, but this one also had a low, low back. It seemed like it was barely held up, just above the swell of her ass by two delicate straps that she was sure Rowan could break with his teeth if he wanted to. The way it fell across her skin, it could have been painted on, barely concealing a thing.

Rowan’s eyes had never been wider as she unbound her hair, letting her blonde tresses fall down the naked expanse of her back. She could practically hear him gulp as she got into the bed beside him. His eyes flashed from her thigh to her back to the swell of her chest to the dip of her waist, unable to decide where to look.

“Ace… you look…” His eyes were wide and pained as he curled his hand into a fist, clenching and unclenching, as if he were aching to touch her. “Stunning. You’re a goddess.”

“Maybe we should have angry sex,” Aelin laughed, but Rowan didn’t look amused at all.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He paused and looked at her up and down, desire prickling every inch of her skin as he took his time taking her in.

“I’d settle for a kiss,” she said. “If you wanted to.”

He didn’t wait for any more direction, letting her pull his neck down and press her lips against his in a burning kiss. It’d barely been over twenty-four hours since their last kiss, but it felt like a thousand years, if their bodies’ reactions were any indication. Their mouths opened and tongues met as their fingers scratched at each others’ scalps, tugging harder and harder, until Aelin’s bare thigh was hitched around Rowan’s hip. She could feel him throbbing inside his shorts, and she couldn’t help but tilt her hips against him, rubbing like a cat, desperate to be pet. It was only when a wanton moan escaped her mouth that he reared back, jumping out of the bed with a start.

“Shit,” he breathed hard. “You’re far too tempting.”

He adjusted himself in his shorts and threw on a t-shirt.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“This parade of nightgowns is going to be break me,” he said, chuckling darkly. “I think I should sleep downstairs again.” He paused. “Unless you want to talk?”

Aelin’s lack of response was enough for him to know his instincts were right.

“Right,” he sighed. “See you in the morning.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before turning on his heel, leaving her alone, still breathless and wanting.

Hours later, Aelin was still staring at the ceiling, horribly awake. She was feeling that itchy sense of restlessness. No matter how long she closed her eyes for, she kept seeing the flash of hurt in Rowan’s face again and again, burning itself into her brain until she couldn’t keep her eyes closed any longer. Fuck this.

She tore the silly gold nightgown off and replaced it with some well-worn sweats before padding two floors down to where Aedion had been placed. Despite the late hour, the light was still shining beneath the crack in the door, and Aelin was relieved. She’d hoped he’d be awake, but hadn’t been totally sure. She announced herself with a small knock before cracking the door open.

Sure enough, Aedion was upright in bed, scrolling on his phone absentmindedly. His blue-green eyes stared up at her, startled for a second, before melting into a familiar smile. He patted the comforter next to him, and she bounded across the room before jumping onto the bed with a large bounce.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, and Aelin shook her head.

“You’re not hanging out with Rowan tonight?”

Aedion chuckled softly, rubbing the top of her head with his large palm. “Nah, I thought I’d swap out with Lys tonight.”

“Lys? Is hanging out with Rowan?”

“Yup.”

Aelin paused.

“Should we check on them to make sure there’s no blood shed?”

Aedion inhaled, causing him to snort loudly. “I thought you wanted his blood shed?”

Aelin groaned and flopped back onto the soft pillow. “No, of course I don’t. I love him. I would like him to stay alive and in one piece.”

“Sure could have fooled me with your shell throwing, Peach,” Aedion laughed. But he sat patiently, waiting for her continue.

“He read my diary.”

“Whoaaaa,” Aedion whistled. “That…”

“Isn’t cool?” Aelin completed his sentence. “Yeah, I know.”

“I was gonna say, that doesn’t sound like Rowan, actually,” Aedion said, running his hand through his thick hair and pushing it back thoughtfully. “Why’d he do it?”

“Huh?” Aelin asked, distracted by her barrage of feelings of betrayal and hurt once again.

“Why’d he do it?”

“Uhhh…” Aelin didn’t have an answer.

“He didn’t give you a reason? Why he opened your journal and invaded your private thoughts?”

“Well, he started to but…I kind of didn’t want to hear it?”

Aedion sat thoughtfully, his eyes glazing over as he parsed through his own emotions and figured out what to say next. It was rare for Aedion to speak so candidly with her. Their relationship had always been a series of taunts and sibling-adjacent teasing. But he was smart and knew her better than most. And he lived her entire history with Rowan, so she was curious to hear his response.

“I think you should hear him out,” Aedion finally said, causing Aelin’s hackles to rise. Why should she have to listen to his explanation when the betrayal was so clear cut and obviously wrong? Why should she care about the why when the what couldn’t ever be explained away. “I know what you’re thinking,” Aedion continued. “Because if you’re going to be fully and rightfully mad, you should know what caused this insane lapse in judgement.” He paused again and stared at her.

Aelin nodded, taking in his explanation, but she wasn’t sure she agreed with it. “I’m not ready to stop being mad yet,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to.”

“I just know that as soon as he starts explaining, I’m going to forgive him. And I don’t want to forgive him.”

“Why not?”

A small tear ran down Aelin’s cheek as she sniffled. “Because he’s leaving me.” She shook her head, sniffing the tear back and continuing forward. “I think maybe there’s a part of me that thinks maybe this is just an easy way to push him away. You can get left if you leave first, right?” She took a deep breath and stared up at her cousin with wide blue eyes, her lip trembling. “Aed, am I totally fucked up?”

“C’mere,” Aedion said, letting Aelin lean against his shoulder and cry it out.

She knew this was about so much more than her journal. It was a panic reaction. Even though Rowan had reassured her approximately seven hundred and one times that he wasn’t going anywhere, that deep down, she still didn’t believe him. She was so ready to push him away. Because him wanting to be with her… it didn’t make sense. And so when he made this (albeit huge!) mistake, and was upset with her, her instinct was to lean into that feeling. Like, aha! She knew it! He didn’t want to be with her, after all. Because she’s terrible, so who could want to be with her?

“Just talk to him.”

She thanked Aedion for his advice, but wasn’t sure she was going to take him up on it. Instead, she went upstairs and wrote all her feelings down. They were raw and uninhibited, and for the first time, she realized that maybe there were wounds between them that had never healed. Aelin’s eyes finally fell shut just as the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon. And it was nearly noon by the time she woke up to Lysandra tapping her shoulder.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hi,” Aelin startled, looking at the clock and cringing a bit. She’d slept half the day away.

“It’s still raining, so we’re going to head to the arcade, did you want to come? Or do you want to chill here?” Lys asked. “We just didn’t want to leave without telling you.”

Aelin shook the last vestiges of sleep off and sat up slowly, stretching her arms overhead. “No, I’m up. I’ll come.”

Lys left her to get ready, and despite feeling groggy as hell, Aelin didn’t bother to do anything other than get dressed for the day and tie her long blonde hair into two neat braids.

The arcade was only a few minute drive away, but in her typical spot in Rowan’s passenger seat, it somehow felt a thousand years long. She’d tried to get into Manon’s car, but Aedion had practically shoved her into the jeep. By the time they arrived at the arcade, Aelin felt shaky with tension. Honestly, she felt like she could somehow run a marathon and easily fall over all at the same time. She wasn’t sure what to do with the mass amounts of adrenaline and nerves coursing through her, but luckily, the group decided they wanted to do bumper cars first, which was an excellent outlet for her stress.

As she shoved her car into the side of Rowan’s car, making him crash into the back of Dorian’s and causing a giant pile up, Aelin was feeling pretty great. She felt even better as she and Dorian went head to head for a Just Dance battle that she fully nailed. But her anxiety came back tenfold when the group decided to end the day with an epic laser tag battle, putting her and Rowan as team captains.

She glared at Lys, who had divied them up, but her friend never looked her way, ignoring her as they split up to “strategize.”

“Okay, Captain,” Manon said, slapping Aelin’s shoulder. “What’s our battle tactic?”

. . .

It turned out that Aelin was an excellent laser tag player. She eliminated the competition with a swift efficiency, like she was born for it. She took Aedion out first, since he was unpredictable and athletic. Then, Lys, who tried to stay camouflaged in the corners of the complex castle-shaped course, but she spotted her darting across one turret and took her out, too. Manon turned out to be a great wing-woman, too, keeping Aelin’s sides safe from the other side’s onslaught of attacks.

“On your left!” Manon hissed, causing Aelin to jump directly out of Rowan’s laser’s range. She was about to stick her tongue out when Manon gasped and fell to the ground. “Nooooo, I’ve been shot!” she gasped dramatically. “It was a coordinated attack! Get Chaol! Then save yourself!” she shouted.

Rowan stalked closer, but Aelin darted into a corner, out of sight, managing to take out Chaol in a surprise move. But without her defenses, her team started dropping like flies. Elide and Dorian were quickly eliminated, leaving just Aelin and Rowan in the course by themselves.

“Come on out, Ace,” he said. “You can’t hide from me forever.”

“Can too!” she shouted. But saying anything was a mistake, he followed her voice, and she narrowly darted out of range from his laser. “Too close,” she muttered, crouching on the ground and scaling the shadows of the walls again.

She spotted his glowing swath of hair under the black lights and attempted to target him, but it was as if he knew where she was at all times. They could feel each other’s eyes, even in the dark, as if there were some invisible thread tethering them together. No matter where she hid, he found her, and same for him. She didn’t know how long the game had gone on, until there was a flashing light overhead.

“Your game is ending in five minutes,” a speaker said overhead. Whoops. They’d used the entire hour and a half.

“Just call it a truce, and let’s go,” Manon whined. “I’m ready for dinner.”

There was a rumbling of agreement on the sidelines, but Aelin refused to call a truce. Stealthily, she snuck against the wall, tracking his every movement, until she knew she had him cornered. It was only when Rowan’s laser hit her target that she realized he’d known she was there the whole time, luring her into his trap.

“UGH!” she said, throwing down her laser as the lights came back on. “You couldn’t have just let me win?”

She knew she was being a sore loser, but she ignored Rowan’s outstretched hand, saying good game. But when she saw his lips tug down, she felt like crying again.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Can we talk?”

His eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “But food first?”

She’d thought they were going to stay at the arcade for dinner, but apparently the restaurant was attached to a bar, and Aedion suggested they take pizza home instead. Although she was ravenous, by the time they got back to the beach house, Aelin just wanted to get through this conversation. She held Rowan’s hand, stopping him from exiting the jeep with everyone else, but luckily, he got the idea immediately.

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Why’d you do it?”

Rowan’s jaw loosened slightly. “We’re just jumping right in?”

“Yup.” She twirled the end of one of her braids nervously. “So… why?”

Rowan sighed. “I think you’re going to be madder when I tell you why.”

Aelin’s shoulders tensed. “That’s okay.”

“Okay,” Rowan continued, steeling himself. “I know that I’ve told you to take your time telling me things, but… after what happened with your mom…” He paused. “I can feel you shutting me out. And I just wanted to know what the hell was going on in there,” he said, tapping the side of her head. “And I guess I read a bad page, but it just seemed to confirm everything I thought. That you had given up on us, that we weren’t meant to be together.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve loved you for so long… and I stupidly thought that we got past all the bad stuff and we would share everything, but it just felt like we were in the bad stuff again.”

Aelin took a deep breath and hummed, processing his words. As predicted, her anger had melted away with each of his words, but she was left with a raw and gaping hurt instead. “I need you to understand that it’s okay for me to have a private space to think through my feelings, Ro.” She paused. “That journal is like my therapist. It’s seen all the highs and lows and everything in between. And… I wish that you had just asked me what was wrong, instead of going behind my back. Just because we’re in love and share ourselves with each other doesn’t mean we don’t have boundaries. That journal is a hard limit.”

“I can see that now,” he admitted, running his hands through his hair, making it even more disheveled than it was before. “And I get it, I really do. I just… wanted to know how you were really doing.”

“I will always tell you how I’m really doing,” Aelin said. “It might not be immediately every time, but I will.” She leaned forward and laced her fingers with his.

“I think maybe I’m still figuring out what our boundaries are,” Rowan said. “Sometimes I think I know everything about you, and then other times you’re a complete mystery to me.”

“Isn’t that part of the fun?”

He squeezed her hand. “I’m really, really sorry. I jumped to conclusions and was a stupid idiot, and I’ll never ever ever do it again.”

Aelin scoffed. “You’d better fucking not, or I’ll wear another week’s worth of nightgowns and refuse to let you touch me.”

Rowan chuckled softly. “That was cruel.” He paused. “Are we okay?”

“If you’re asking if you can touch me in my nightgown tonight, then the answer is yes,” she said with a small smile.

He leaned forward and kissed her softly, and she could feel both their anger dissipate with each press of his lips. With a sigh, he leaned his forehead against hers. Because she knew that wasn’t what he was asking.

“Yeah, we’re okay, Ro,” she finally said, and he exhaled deeply.

But despite her words, that night and for the rest of the week, when Rowan slid his hand beneath the silk and lace of her nightgowns, she couldn’t help but feel an uncomfortable gnawing in the pit of her stomach that perhaps too much had gone unsaid.

#idwtw au #rowaelin #tog fic #throne of glass fic #rowaelin fic