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booknerdproblems · 1 year

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Omg this is so perfect. Could I possibly be added to your Rowaelin taglist? :)

Missing something

Rowaelin month day 9: Single parent AU @rowaelinscourt

I planned for this one to originally be a multichapter, then merged it all together, ended up scrapping parts and rewriting a lot. I'm also trying something new with this one, so let me know what you think!

This one is part one out of two, and the next part will be published sometime soon-ish!

Better late than never, right?

CW: fluff! Shy Rowan, fluffy moments, awkwardness and silly jokes.

Word count: 4k

Missing something

Rowan had been living in Orynth for about a year already, and he finally felt like he was adapting to the city and the quirks it had. He had made a few friends too and enjoyed his life in general. He liked his work, had a favorite coffee shop, and he routinely ran by the park every morning. Most mornings he’s catch a glimpse of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen walk through the park, which was a strong reason as to why he preferred to run by the park. He never had any courage to stop by and speak to the woman, though.

After his run, he would usually shower, change clothes and grab a coffee before heading to work. He had gotten his job at Cadre Security right after he had gotten out of the military, and when a new branch had opened in Terrasen, Rowan had offered to go - and here he still was. He enjoyed the challenges of the work; no day ever was the same and he split his time between working in the office and working with the clients.

All things considered, Rowan would say he was content with his life. He didn’t think he needed anything more, but sometimes he felt like he was missing something. He had entertained the thought of creating a profile for one of those dating apps, but the entire thing felt silly to him, so he refrained from it. His shy nature didn’t allow him to start up a conversation with random people either, so making friends – let alone getting a date – was hard for him. The few friendships he had made during his year in Orynth had either been initiated by the other person, or just naturally grew due to them being colleagues.

Like his friend Aedion. He had been one of the first hires at the Cadre’s new branch, immediately chatting with everyone in his vicinity. His humor was similar to Rowan’s, so they became friends over time. Often during the weekends, they would get a beer at the local bar or play sports during their free time. Rowan had also met Aedion’s wife, Lysandra, and their two-year-old toddler, Malin.

Rowan had made plans to go grab a drink or two with Aedion that evening, as apparently Aedion was being banished from their home due to a girls’ night, whatever that ensued. Probably nothing too crazy, as there would be children present.

Having ordered two beers, Rowan was now seated at the corner booth waiting for his friend to arrive. He was deep in thought when Aedion plopped down on the seat in front of him and took a long sip from his pint.

“So, I have an idea and before you say no, hear me out,” Aedion blurted out shaking Rowan out of his thoughts, confusing him.

“Sorry?”

“I have an idea to run by you. Well, it includes you, so you might be inclined to say no, but I really hope you won’t,” Aedion repeated and was playing with his fingers in a nervous manner.

“Get on with it then, I can’t say no without knowing the idea, right?” Rowan seemed nervous too, probably picking up on Aedion’s nervousness. What kind of an idea would make the extroverted, easily provoked, never embarrassed guy nervous? Rowan was about to find out.

“So… You know my wife Lysandra, right?” Aedion started before continuing. “She has this best friend – who is also my cousin – and, well, uh… I think you should go on a date with her.”

Rowan stared at Aedion in disbelief. Of all the things he had heard come out of the blonde man’s mouth, this was one thing he could not have anticipated at all.

“Sorry, what?”

“You and my cousin. Go on a date. A blind date, we’d set the whole thing up and pay for the entire thing too!” The slight grin coming Rowan’s way was a bit too excited, and somehow Rowan found himself thinking the entire thing over. Like he was seriously considering it.

“Okay,” he said, shocking both himself and his friend. Neither probably were expecting him to actually agree on a date with a random person. As it was, Rowan was probably the most introverted, shy man to ever exist, and he had just agreed to meet a stranger. Well, stranger to Rowan, as apparently the woman was Aedion’s cousin, whom Rowan had never met.

“Okay? Okay. Okay! Yes- yes. Cool. Right. Uhh… Should I know something about your schedule? I mean I know most of your schedule, we work together. But um… do you have a preferred day for the date? Like it’s most likely going to be a dinner as she works during the days,” Aedion blabbed on before being interrupted.

“Two days from now, on Friday, 7 pm. You let me know of the information and I’ll meet her there.”

And just like that, the awkward part of their evening was finished, and they continued it by recalling their day at work and telling jokes. And ordering more beer. By the end of the night, Rowan had convinced himself that he wasn’t drunk, just getting there. Aedion, however, was absolutely plastered. It was a good thing that the both of them had a day off the following day.

Rowan went on his run the next morning, just like usual. By the time he reached the park, he slowed down to a light jog. Then he caught it. The glimpse of gold glimmering in the sunlight, just a tiny glimpse before it was gone. He didn’t wallow in the misery of missing seeing more of the woman this morning, especially since he had no idea who she was.

Picking up speed again, he ran home. Just like he normally would, his day continued by him going through his morning routine, the only change being not having to go to work. On his days off, he enjoyed going to the gym or doing his weekly grocery shopping.

Not that day, though. Aedion called and informed Rowan about the upcoming date. Somehow the date consumed every thought in his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful woman at the park either. Agreeing to the date made him feel like he was betraying his own emotions, and he almost told Aedion to call the entire thing off but didn’t want the cousin to think she wasn’t wanted.

So, Rowan found himself ironing every single button up shirt he owned. The date wasn’t even that day, it was on the following day. But apparently Rowan cleaned and ironed when he was nervous, and now that he didn’t have alcohol in front of him, ironing was his go-to method of calming down. On the bright side, now he had picked what he was going to wear the next day as he met his blind date.

The next day, after work, Rowan was getting nervous. Yet again, he almost called Aedion to tell the date was off but pushed through his thoughts. Maybe he would enjoy the date, who knew?

He checked his hair in the mirror for the seventh time, unbuttoned and buttoned his shirt back up again for the third time. He even brushed his teeth again, just to make the time go by faster. Checking the watch on his wrist for what must’ve been the tenth time in five minutes, Rowan finally decided he wouldn’t be too early at the restaurant if he left now.

Aedion had made a reservation at a place not far from Rowan’s apartment, so it was a quick five-minute walk there. Just as he arrived, there was the woman from the park entering the restaurant. Suddenly Rowan’s nerves shot through the roof. It couldn’t be, right?

“A reservation under Ashryver,” the woman said to the hostess. It was his lucky day, apparently. The park woman was his blind date.

“Excuse me for interrupting, but I believe I’m your date,” Rowan had gathered enough courage to speak in front of the woman, who turned her gaze on him. Identical eyes to Aedion’s widened as they took him in, and a smile graced the woman’s face.

“Ah, yes. Reservation under Ashryver for two, please follow me,” the hostess took over and led them to their table, offering them menus and stating that their server would be with them shortly.

An awkward silence fell over the two of them as they read through the menus, trying to figure out the perfect food to eat on a first date. Rowan’s courage had withered away and suddenly he felt extremely nervous and shy in front of the most beautiful woman. Whose name he still didn’t know. But he couldn’t just open his mouth and ask it, could he?

“You’re Rowan, right? I’m Aedion’s cousin, Aelin. I don’t know what he told about me, but I assure you, none of it is probably true,” the golden-haired woman spoke. Ah, he got a name. Aelin. A beautiful name, fitting the beautiful woman.

“Well, he told me you were his cousin. That’s about it.” Why did Rowan have to be so stiff and shy? He couldn’t even crack a smile. He blew the date before it even started, he just knew it. Then Aelin chuckled.

“Okay, that part is true. I guess I should be glad he’s refrained from telling you all the mishaps I got to when I was younger. I do appreciate him letting us get to know each other on our own, it was awkward enough to be set on a blind date by him! I trust that you’re not an axe murderer since Aedion knows you and feels comfortable enough to introduce us. He can be a bit protective over me,” she explained to him with mirth glinting in her eyes.

Rowan smiled.

“No, I’m not an axe murderer, just an ex-military guy with the knowledge and skills to cause extreme discomfort for another person,” he smirked at her horrified reaction.

“He smiles! He jokes!” Aelin laughed. Rowan thought the laugh coming out of her was the most beautiful melodic sound he had ever heard. His heart fluttered.

“I do have my moments.”

After the ice had been successfully broken, their date seemed to just fly by. The conversation never stopped, even as they ate, they were constantly asking new questions and making funny quips. Rowan, despite his prior nervousness felt like he had known Aelin his whole life, everything just seemed to come so easily with her.

They found out that Rowan was apparently a few years older than she was, deciding not to re-enlist for the military at a surprisingly young age despite his rapidly growing career. He had known he wanted a chance at a more reliable life should a family ever come along, but so far that hadn’t happened. Both of them also shared random, small facts about themselves, such as favorite ice cream flavors and childhood dream professions. Apparently, Aelin wanted to be a queen, and Rowan had always wanted to be a warrior – thus his military and now security careers.

Even though everything seemed to be going perfectly, there was one thing that kept Rowan wondering.

“If you don’t mind me asking… but how is a woman as witty and smart and fun as you, as well as beautiful as you still single?”

Aelin froze. Rowan’s nerves peeked back out; he was absolutely afraid that his question was the thing that killed the mood now. Suddenly, Aelin’s lips took on a smirk with her eyes showing a bit of concern.

“Well, aren’t you a charmer, Mr Whitethorn. But alas, there is one thing in my life which seems to be a perfect male deterrent. You see, this incredible, smart, funny and cute five-year-old tends to keep guys at bay. I have a daughter,” Aelin told Rowan, who didn’t seem to react in a bad way.

“What’s her name?” Rowan asked. His newest question seemed to be too much for Aelin, as tears appeared at the corners of her eyes, making him freak out. “Please don’t cry, I didn’t mean it in a bad way!”

“Oh no, no. I didn’t think you meant anything bad by it. It’s just… Every time before, if I mentioned to guys that I have a daughter, they always followed it with asking if the father is still in the picture or if I was looking for a dad for her – or even wondering how a woman like me could possibly be a mother. You are the only person who has asked something about my daughter after you heard about her,” Aelin smiled and wiped the tears away, not wanting to cry in public.

“Well, I think that I have immensely enjoyed my time with you, and a daughter I don’t even know yet shouldn’t stop me from asking you on a second date,” Rowan said and took Aelin’s hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I would very much like to see you again, Aelin.”

“Yes, please. I mean, I would like to see you too,” she blurted out, making Rowan grin. “Oh, and her name is Alora. My daughter’s I mean. Although she would much prefer if everyone called her princess Alora.”

“Princess Alora. I have to remember that for when I get the honor of meeting her.”

Rowan’s statement was so genuine, it brought tears to Aelin’s eyes again.

“Okay, now we really have to finish up with the date before I start bawling my eyes out. Would you like to have lunch tomorrow? I know it’s sudden and it’s a Saturday and you probably have plans but-“ Aelin was interrupted by Rowan’s gentle voice.

“I would love to have lunch with you tomorrow. It’s a date.”

They finished up the date by calling for the bill only to find out that Aedion had already covered the costs, just like he’d told he would. Rowan gave his number to Aelin and told her to message him about the details of their next date. Ever the gentleman, he helped Aelin put on her coat and kissed her hand in farewell, only to get a kiss on the cheek before the golden woman fluttered away.

As he began his trek back home, Rowan’s hand almost involuntarily raised to touch his cheek where Aelin had kissed her. He couldn’t stop smiling. Safe to say, the date was a success.

They had their date the next day, enjoying it just as much as their dinner the night before. They spent the entire lunch just laughing together, telling stories from their childhoods and sharing more facts about themselves.

Rowan was absolutely certain this was the something that had been missing from his life. He just hoped Aelin felt the same about him. And apparently, she did, as she kept messaging him random bird facts and jokes after finding out his favorite animal was a hawk. He earned the nickname ‘buzzard’ from her too.

Over the course of the next few weeks, they kept texting or even talking on the phone daily. They had a few more dates too, going dancing, trying out new restaurants and one time they even went to an adventure park.

That evening they were about to have an early dinner at Rowan’s place, as he had promised to cook for her. He had been at work for a half-day, and after getting home he just dived straight into creating the perfect meal for his girlfriend. At least that’s how he had been thinking of her for the past few days. He wanted to ask Aelin to be sure, that’s what this dinner was for.

As he was finishing up with the pasta, the doorbell rang. He quickly strained the spaghetti before practically running to the door. He took a second to straighten himself, then opened the front door and was almost floored by the view in front of him. Aelin was wearing a black dress with golden embroidery, which made her eyes sparkle in the dim lighting.

“Please, come in,” Rowan motioned towards his apartment with his hand, and Aelin stepped inside. He took her coat and hung it on the wall before leading her to the kitchen island.

“I was thinking we’d eat on the island today, if it’s okay with you?” He waited for her nod before helping her sit down on one of the chairs. She looked around admiring the foods Rowan had already set on the table, he had even lit a couple of candles.

“Wow, this all looks delicious,” Aelin gave a heartfelt compliment, making the man smile. He sat down next to her and placed a glass of wine in front of her, having noticed she prefers a small glass of wine with dinner and following it with some water. He noticed a lot of things about her, often watching her with awe.

They were deep in conversation and almost done with the meal, when Rowan suddenly just blurted the words out, almost forcefully.

“Are you my girlfriend? Because I’ve been thinking you are but never got the confirmation and I just- I don’t want you to ever feel uncomfortable with me.”

Aelin stared. Then she started smiling. Then the giggles took over and she brought a hand to her mouth, trying to keep the laughing at bay. Rowan just looked at her incredulously.

“I- I’m sorry, I swear I’m not laughing at you,” she began. “It’s just… I’ve been telling my friends about my incredibly hot boyfriend, so I sure hope I am your girlfriend.”

Rowan joined in the laughter and moved towards her. Wrapping his arms around her, with a strong intent he brought his lips to hers. She stilled, before moving her hand behind his neck and pulling him closer. Slowly he pulled out of the kiss and leaned his forehead to hers.

“Gods, that was- that was-,” he tried to come up with a word strong enough to tell how wonderful the moment was.

“That was so magical I never want to stop, buzzard. I have to admit, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long, I was certain I was going to die of old age before we got to our first kiss,” Aelin’s wit was perfect as usual. Rowan just laughed and kissed her again. And again. And again.

A few days later, Aelin sent a message to Rowan, which made his heart pound.

“What would you think about meeting Alora?”

He would be ecstatic. Meeting Aelin’s daughter was the next step, and Alora was the key to whether or not their relationship would or could continue. He replied to his girlfriend that he’d love to and asked if she had an idea for where they should meet.

Aelin got back to him an hour later.

“Bowling alley. Today at 5, if it works for you?”

So, here Rowan was, waiting for his girlfriend and her daughter at the bowling alley. The nerves were once again getting the best of him. What if Alora didn’t like him? What if she didn’t want her mom to date anyone? Suddenly Rowan was regretting not finding out about Alora’s father, if he was still in the picture. That would be tough, being a new man in the little girl’s life. He’d even gotten her a gift but was now wondering if it was stupid. She probably already had something similar.

He couldn’t wallow in his thoughts for too long, as a childlike blabber interrupted him. Turning around, he saw Aelin and someone who could easily pass as a miniature Aelin clone nearing him.

“Mama, is that him? He’s soooooo pwetty with the shiny hair!” Rowan chuckled quietly at the little girl’s comment. Aelin, too, was laughing silently.

“I agree, love, his hair is real pretty and shiny!”

“Hello, ladies,” Rowan greeted. He was about to settle for a wave and a hug, but Aelin wanted a kiss, so she brought their lips together for a quick kiss. Alora didn’t like it.

“NO KISSES!”

Both the adults laughed, and Rowan got down to a squat to talk to the tiny human.

“Hi, Alora. My name is Rowan,” he spoke to the girl.

“Yes I know, my mommy told me.” Alora surely wasn’t a shy one. A chuckle left Rowan’s lips.

“Well, did your mommy tell you that I got a surprise for you, princess Alora?” The little girl’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates in awe. She was practically shaking in excitement.

“A suwpwise? I love suwpwises!”

Rowan offered a badly wrapped present for the little girl, who went to town ripping the paper off. Aelin was looking at the scene in astonishment, she had no idea his boyfriend would be bringing something for her child. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She was feeling something she hadn’t felt in forever. Something awfully close to love.

“MAMA LOOK! Wowan got me a tiawa! Can I put it on, please, please, please mommy?” Alora was now literally jumping up and down while shaking her new tiara at her mom.

“Alright, love, let’s put it on. Remember, what do we say to someone who gave us a gift?” Aelin asked her daughter.

“Thank you, Wowan! I love it! I am a pwincess now!” Alora looked at Rowan with the widest grin ever, the tiara glimmering on top of her head. Aelin felt so elated that her daughter and her boyfriend were getting along so well, she was about to give a kiss to Rowan again.

“I said no kisses!” Alora stopped the kiss before it had time to even start. Rowan pondered something for a bit.

”Why don’t we make a deal, Alora? Every time I manage to knock down all the pins at once with the bowling ball, I get a kiss from your mommy?” Rowan asked the little girl in front of her. Alora looked to be deep in thought before responding with a giggle.

“I think I can allow you mommy kisses if you win, Wowan.”

“Alright, love, I think we should get in and get bowling then!” Aelin grabbed the hand of her daughter and her boyfriend as well. The overly excited little girl was running and pulling Aelin along, making the adults laugh as they followed her inside.

Turns out, despite Rowan’s military experience and excellent marksman skills, he was absolutely terrible at bowling. So much so, that at halfway through their game Aelin offered to have the bumpers put up for him as well, just like Alora had. Grumbling, Rowan agreed with a blush rising to his cheeks in embarrassment. Even with the rails, he couldn’t get all the pins knocked down, much to the amusement of the two ladies with him.

“I’m sowwy, Wowan. Looks like you won’t be getting mommy kisses,” Alora stated. Aelin burst out laughing, almost doubling over. There was no denying whose daughter Alora was, with wit like Aelin’s. Rowan muttered something under his breath before letting out a deep, long sigh.

“That’s alright. I suppose I have to find another way to get mommy kisses then,” he told Alora.

The little girl looked like she was thinking hard, before walking up to Rowan and pulling at his hand so he’d squat down to her level. Without any warning, Alora gave a big smacking wet kiss on Rowan’s cheek, almost hitting his eye.

“I said no mommy kisses, but you get a kiss for being a good boy. Mommy always says that I get a kiss for being good.” Rowan blushed at this, and Aelin swooned. There was no denying it, Alora absolutely adored Rowan. And if the hug Rowan gave the little girl was anything to go by, he absolutely adored her too. He looked at his girlfriend, showing her the biggest smile as his eyes shone with deep, heartfelt joy.

It was at that moment that he knew he was going to marry Aelin one day.

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booknerdproblems · 1 year

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fanfic really is. like. it really is about the community. it's about the comments. it's about the story you rip directly for your heart and bleed out on your keyboard. it's about the i loved it when you... and the i screamed when you wrote... and the keyboard smashes and the i can't believe you did that!!!! and the i'm suing you for damages like it. this is community. fanfic is literally. an act of community. the greatest act of community in fandom because it comes with such raw, overwhelming vulnerability. whether you're writing kink fic or 100k words of trauma exploration, you're just like. hi hello this is my soul please embrace it and people do. oh my gosh

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booknerdproblems · 1 year

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Help I’m getting too invested this is amazingggggggg. Aelin my poor girllll 🥺🥺🥺

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You're On Your Own, Kid

Part 2

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CW: mentions of cancer, implications of prostitution, mention of death, implications of child abuse, NSFW,

~ 11k words

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Eleven Years Ago

“How was class?” Aelin asked Rowan as he made his way over to her in the hallway, his backpack slung over both shoulders. He shook his head, his silver hair flopping over his forehead.

“Horrible,” he answered, “pop quiz.”

They fell in line next to each other, heading down the hallway and out of the middle school building.

“But you love history,” she asked, brows furrowed. “I’m surprised you didn’t ace it.” He just shrugged and she decided not to pry, just walking next to him in the quiet.

“I had music today,” Aelin continued after a minute, “Miss Florine let me play on her piano again.”

“That’s good,” Rowan answered, nodding his head a bit. “I’m glad she recognizes how talented you are.” He sent a small smile her way, and Aelin had to forcibly stop herself from blushing scarlet.

It was a problem. Since she’d discovered the extent of her feelings almost a year ago, it’d only gotten worse. Every time he touched her, a whole swarm of butterflies flew around her stomach. Every time he smiled at her, she wanted to melt into a puddle. Every day they spent together only made her feelings stronger, and she was pretty sure she’d die if she ever had to be without him.

But she couldn’t tell him, she couldn’t risk losing him.

“The rest of my classes today were terrible,” she admitted as she shrugged, hoping to sympathize with him a little bit. “I got my test grade back in Math, and it was not what I was hoping for.”

“No?” Rowan asked, pushing open the door to the courtyard, and she shook her head.

“See?” She said, nudging his shoulder and smiling slightly. “Everyone gets bad grades, it’s alright.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Remelle and her friends, and she looked away quickly. Hoping they wouldn’t notice them. Remelle didn’t attempt to mess with her in front of Rowan usually, but whenever Aelin was by herself she would get choice comments about him.

She just tried her best to ignore it all.

“Loser!” Someone shouted from across the courtyard, and Aelin huffed, picking up her pace. Rowan frowned next to her, but didn’t comment, picking up from her that she just wanted to move on.

Until a spitball hit her face, right on the bruise on her jaw she’d tried to cover up with makeup just that morning. Aelin wiped it away quickly, clenching her jaw and fighting the humiliated tears that pricked at her eyes.

And when Rowan slowed down, about to say something to the antagonizers, she just grabbed his hand, pulling him along after her.

“It’s not worth it,” she muttered, “they’ll just think they got a rise out of me and keep doing it.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t, just nodding and following her when she pulled him toward the sidewalk to begin the walk home.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, until Aelin could sense he was about to ask her about it, so she cut him off before he could.

“So what happened with your history test?” She asked, glancing over at him. “Why weren’t you prepared?” She kicked a rock idly in front of her, keeping it moving as they walked toward his house.

Arobynn had been especially riled up that morning, and after she’d mentioned it to Rowan on the way to school, he’d practically forbidden her from going home that afternoon.

To her surprise, his cheeks turned red. He stuttered over the start of his answer, and she felt her heart sinking, already knowing she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

“My teacher switched our seats around,” he answered, not looking at her. “I ended up next to Lyria Willow.”

Oh.

Lyria Willow. She was a pretty brunette cheerleader, popular, but not part of Remelle’s group of friends. Aelin barely knew her, but she seemed sweet. And sweet was apparently Rowan’s type.

“Does Rowan have a little crush?” She teased, forcing a smile on her face. If anything, his blush grew.

“It’s nothing,” he denied, shaking his head. “She’s moving anyway, she won’t be here next year.”

That was some relief at least, but it still hurt to hear about him liking anyone.

“I got distracted during the quiz because she smiled at me,” he said quietly, as if embarrassed to admit it. He probably was, and she thought he should be. But being the supportive best friend she was, she wasn’t going to tease him about it anymore.

The only thing that soothed her about this conversation was that she could see he was wearing his bracelet. True to his word, he hadn’t taken it off since she’d given it to him, and neither had she.

Maybe Lyria had his heart, but she’d always have him.

Now

Back home at his apartment that evening, Rowan couldn’t get what he’d just witnessed out of his mind. Couldn’t get that guy out of his mind, or her outfit, or the sheer embarrassment in her eyes.

He understood now, what she was doing. What her job was in Rifthold.

“Gods,” he cursed under his breath as he closed the apartment door behind him, leaning his head against the other side of it. He’d missed a call from his mom earlier, but he couldn’t bring himself to call her back.

Not that she’d even be awake, but on the off chance that she was, he didn’t even know what he’d say. Maybe cry again like he had the night Aelin had left. Maybe just say nothing, maybe spill everything. But before that, he needed to sort out his own shit first.

He locked the door roughly, tossing the keys onto the kitchen countertop and moving to go collapse on the couch, his head in his hands.

The silence settled over him and he stared down at the carpet of his apartment, too much going through his head.

An unknowable amount of time later, he stood up aggressively, going to his bedroom to grab his laptop. His hands were shaking as he sat back down on the couch, nearly throwing it open as he opened a search browser.

First, he went on incognito mode, and then he messed around with it more until he got to the other side of the internet. The side most people didn’t go on.

Rowan was a commercial lawyer, so he didn’t deal with things like that, but in law school he’d taken a class on more criminal law. He’d figured out how to access the dark web, and learned some of the ins and outs of the common sites you’d find on there.

His friend in law school, one of the boys from the football team actually, Lorcan, had gone down more of that path. Rowan hadn’t wanted to, but the knowledge was useful now.

With a heavy sigh, he typed in just the name he’d heard. Just Celaena. And immediately her website popped up on the search results.

His heart was pounding as he clicked on it, a picture of her immediately popping up on the page. She was laying on a couch, scantly clad with a seductive smirk on her face. Her golden hair was loose and hanging around her, her body clearly on display for potential clients.

In big text at the top was the name Celaena, her pseudonym he supposed, and a tab for booking “appointments”. He didn’t want to click on it, or the tab labeled “pricing.” He didn’t want to know how much it cost to buy her body, to buy her time, to buy her.

She wasn’t something that should be sold.

People shouldn’t be able to charge an hour of time with her to their credit card, like she was a commodity you could pick up in a store. It was sickening.

Nausea swirled in his stomach at the sight of the screen in front of him, and he shut it before he could vomit all over the keyboard, his heart clenching in utter pain.

He’d coped with her leaving by imagining her new life wherever she’d ended up. He imagined she’d found a job she loved, or imagined she’d been able to do something with the music she loved, or just ended up happy. Now he knew that wasn’t the case.

A sob escaped him before he could stop it, and he scrubbed at his face, hoping to stop the tears before they really started spilling out of his eyes. But it was too late as his hands came away wet.

And all he could do was lay back against the couch, and let it all out.

Ten Years Ago

High school had come.

Aelin hadn’t been especially excited or especially nervous about it. In a town as small as Perranth, it was essentially the same as middle school. She was sure to continue to be the outcast, and Rowan was sure to only get more popular.

Especially now that he’d made it onto the varsity football team.

It was nearly unheard of as a freshman to surpass JV altogether, but her buzzard had. She’d been incredibly proud of him when she’d heard, just like he’d been proud of her when she got a piano solo in the music department’s showcase the year before.

But she was sad too, because it just felt like another nail in the coffin for how everything was going to change.

They’d only had a few classes together in eighth grade, but this year they had none.

Her first day so far had been miserable, as she tried to figure everything out by herself, but Rowan had promised to meet her for lunch in the cafeteria. So that’s where she was, standing outside of the cafeteria with her bought lunch on a tray, waiting for him to show up.

She glanced down at her watch, shifting on her feet nervously. Lunch had started nearly ten minutes ago. Where was he?

She glanced around, fighting the urge to chew her lip to shreds as she tried to spot him. Arobynn had given her a split lip the other day in a particularly nasty incident, and it was an admittedly bad habit of hers to continue to reopen the wound.

She needed to stop, but sometimes venting the pain into that was the only way she could cope.

“Aelin,” a familiar voice said breathlessly, and she turned to see Rowan catching his breath, his lunch bag in his hand, his bracelet on his wrist. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay,” she said, forcing a small smile onto her lips. Her self cut curtain bangs fell over her eye and she transferred the tray to one hand to use the other to push it back, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Where do you want to sit?” She nodded to the open cafeteria doors.

But Rowan cringed. “About that,” he said, sighing. “A couple of the players asked me to sit at their table today, and since I’m a freshman I don’t want to -”

“Miss out, I get it,” Aelin said, nodding. She ignored the disappointment swirling in her stomach.

“It’s all good?” He asked, his brows furrowed, and all she could do was nod, especially after reading the excitement lining his features. He didn’t want to step on her toes, but he also clearly wanted to go sit with them. Who was she to deny him that?

“Yeah,” she rasped, “go enjoy.”

“Where will you sit?” He asked, glancing back at the open cafeteria, and Aelin did the same, finding absolutely no one she knew. If she went in there, she’d end up alone at a table, and she wanted to do everything she could to avoid that.

“You know what,” she said, completely lying. “I just remembered. Chaol asked me to eat with him in the music room, so I have to go do that anyway.”

“Chaol?” Rowan asked, and she nodded, forcing yet another smile onto her split lips.

“He just moved here,” she said. “He’s in the music program.”

Chaol did just move here, and he was in the music program, but he certainly did not ask her to lunch. What was a little white lie, though? If it made him feel better, it was worth it.

“Oh, okay,” Rowan said, nodding. “That works then.” He took a step backward toward the cafeteria. “See you after school?”

“Yep,” she answered, tucking more falling hair behind her ear. “See you.”

She waved once and then he was gone.

With a sigh, Aelin turned away from the cafeteria doors, resigning herself to lunch alone in the library. That’s where she’d gone in middle school whenever Rowan had to miss for the day. Looks like she’d be starting the habit again.

Whatever, it was what it was. She just had to deal with it.

Now

After debating it for nearly the whole day before, Rowan was once again at Aelin’s apartment, this time with a box of chocolates in tow. She was right, and he needed to apologize. Well - he wasn’t quite wrong, but he couldn’t erase the look of pure embarrassment from her eyes and he needed to let her know that this didn’t change anything. That the life she’d ended up in didn’t change how he thought of her.

Or how much he cared for her.

He paused when he reached her door, nerves racing through him as he hesitated. Faintly, he could hear lilting piano, and he stayed quiet, hoping to hear the rest of the song.

“Summer went away, but still the yearning stays,” he heard through the door. Aelin’s voice was quiet, and a bit hesitant, but as melodic as ever. He didn’t knock, not wanting to interrupt her. “I played it cool with the best of them.”

He stepped closer to the door, placing his ear to it so he could hear better. It’d been so long since he’d heard her sing, and even then it was something she’d always been shy about. If Rowan had to guess, he’d say she really only ever sang around him maybe five times? If that.

But he’d always been enchanted by it.

“I wait patiently,” she continued, slowing down a little bit, as if she was thinking of what to sing next. Probably workshopping this very song. “He’s gonna notice me,” a small sigh. “It’s okay, we’re the best of…”

She trailed off, a few dissonant chords hitting his ears before he could hear the piano bench scooching against the floor, and the light patter of feet leaving the room.

“Fuck,” he heard through the door, and he furrowed his brows, but decided it was time to stop eavesdropping on her. So he straightened, transferring the chocolates to one hand as he knocked with the other.

There was a pause where there was no noise at all, and then the door was opening. Aelin was on the other side, wiping her face quickly and sniffing before glancing up at him warily.

“I brought chocolates,” Rowan said, lifting up the box as a peace offering. She hesitated, clearly considering what to do, but eventually she opened the door more to let him inside.

“You can’t stay long,” she said lowly. “I have a client coming in half an hour.”

His brows furrowed. “It’s noon,” he said, a little dumbfounded. In fact, he was here on his lunch break, so he couldn’t stay very long anyway. But she just shrugged.

“I’m available any day, any time,” she said, her voice humorless. “I don’t get to judge when they want to use me, I just let them do it.”

She shut the door behind him with a bit of finality, and he saw what she was wearing properly.

It was another set of lingerie, sheerer this time instead of lacy, but covered up by that same red silk robe. Her tanned legs were on display, peeking out of the bottom of the material, but he forced his eyes away.

“I want to apologize,” Rowan said, and he heard her sigh before she turned around to face him. Her expression was tired. “I want to say I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry too.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears, that familiar nervous gesture of hers, one of the few lasting similarities between how she was now and how she was then. Clearing her throat, she brushed past him, moving toward the kitchen.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, staying put.

“A lot better than the other day,” she answered, not looking at him. “Thank you for your help.”

Rowan just nodded idly, pursing his lips.

“How…long?” He asked after a moment, trying to figure out how to frame the question. Taking a step after her, he set the chocolates down on the counter, choosing to perch in one of the barstools.

Aelin just laughed humorlessly. “Eight years.”

Eight years.

Which meant… “Aelin, you were seventeen,” he said, blinking in shock. “Who did this to you?”

She furrowed her brows at the phrasing, but Rowan didn’t know how else to put it. She was probably blaming herself for where she’d ended up, had likely blamed herself ever since it started. But if it’d been going on for eight years, and she really had been seventeen, then he placed the blame solely on whoever had gotten her into this.

Who had first… had first hired her.

Or used her. Whichever statement one preferred. Either way, Aelin was in no way at fault.

“I was at a bar,” she said, looking to the side a little bit. “When I first came to Rifthold.” She shook her head. “There was a man, and I don’t know, I just… it was easy to just… I don’t know.” She shook her head again, and Rowan didn’t press the point. She’d tell him when she was ready.

He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t go kill the man who’d done this. But he’d cross that bridge later.

Aelin slid into the seat next to him, leaning her elbows against the counter. “So there you go,” she said drily. “You know my sordid secret. I’m assuming you still think I made a mistake leaving?”

Rowan didn’t know what to say. The immediate answer was yes, but -

“Did you want to stay?” He asked, knowing the answer to that too. Aelin pursed her lips, looking away. No. She didn’t. And he knew why, part of the reason was him. And that godsdamned mistake and that godsdamned night. “Aelin, I’m so-”

“Don’t,” she said, shaking her head and smiling weakly. “Don’t apologize. There’s no need to rehash the past.”

Rowan just nodded, not saying anything. She was right. It wouldn’t do anything now. Any apology he made would be eight years too late.

“You probably should go soon,” she said after a minute, not looking at him.

“It’s only been ten minutes,” he said, and she shrugged, looking away.

“Gives me more time to prepare.”

“Prepare?” He couldn’t help but pry, and she just chuckled humorlessly.

“Prepare mentally,” she answered, pushing herself to a stand. “It takes time, you know?”

“You know,” Rowan said, already wincing. “You don’t have to keep doing this.”

“And do what?” Aelin asked, incredulous, and he couldn’t blame her. “I didn’t even graduate high school, Rowan. What am I supposed to do?”

“Anything but this,” he said quietly, shaking his head. Her brows wrought together, and he knew he’d messed up.

“Are you judging me?” She asked, stepping away from him a bit. “You think this is easy?” Aelin continued, crossing her arms over her chest like a shield. “You think I didn’t cry myself to sleep for weeks at the beginning? You think I didn’t used to vomit after every godsdamned appointment I had?” She shook her head, tears collecting in those soulful blue eyes as she had the breakdown he’d known was coming.

“People want so much from me,” she sighed heavily. “I’m not curvy enough, I’m not skinny enough, I’m not sexy enough, I’m too sexy.” She closed her eyes, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I don’t…always eat properly, I know that. It’s just easy to let all of those words sink in. And easy to let myself cave in, internalizing the disgust I feel for everything,” she shuddered, “and directing it at myself.”

She blinked her eyes open, glancing over at him. His heart had already fractured in two.

“But it’s just the way it is,” she said, her voice eerily empty.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he whispered, shaking his head and taking a step toward her. But she just shrugged.

“There’s no changing it now,” she said, wiping the tear off of her cheek and straightening her robe. “I’m already ruined.”

Before he could say anything against that declaration, she was pushing open the door to the guest bedroom. Or not her guest bedroom - her working room - making sure everything was ready to go.

He took that as his cue to leave, just like she’d requested.

Now wasn’t the time to argue. He just wished she could see what he saw. Not something broken that needed to be fixed, but someone so godsdamned strong she’d managed to survive everything life threw her way.

His Fireheart. That’s who she was.

Nine Years Ago

“Hey Mrs. Whitethorn!” Aelin greeted as she opened the front door without even knocking, so familiar with both of its occupants she didn’t even need to.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Rowan’s mom greeted warmly from where she was at her desk tucked back in the corner of the kitchen. She worked as a nurse, but sometimes had to do some administration and budgeting stuff from home. Especially right before she had a shift, which she did tonight.

Aelin poked her head around the frame, carrying her bag on one shoulder.

“Rowan’s not home yet from practice,” Lianna continued, “but feel free to make yourself at home. Like always,” she laughed musically.

“It’s what I do best,” Aelin said with a wink, before pushing off the frame and heading down the hallway toward her best friend’s room.

It was their annual sleepover, and though things had certainly changed from 10 to 17, they’d kept up with it. Since discovering her feelings for him, and how deep they went, she’d thought it’d be awkward to share a bed. But she’d been respectful, and he always was, and she found that it was just comfortable.

It always was.

She opened the door, closing it behind her and dropped her bag on the ground before collapsing onto his bed. His pillows smelled like him, that pine scent she loved so much, and like a creep she breathed it in, closing her eyes as she relaxed into his mattress.

After a minute of that she rolled over, staring up at the ceiling fan, watching it circle around and around. Aelin much preferred this room to her own. She much preferred this house to her own. She much preferred him to herself.

Maybe it wasn’t healthy, but it was true.

It was hard to have great self esteem when your supposed parental figure hit you every other day, your entire school bullied you, and the one friend you had would never care for you the same way you cared for him. Warmth hit her eyes unbidden, and she blinked them away, rolling to her side.

But something caught her gaze.

Her face fell and she sat up, reaching for the friendship bracelet that lay abandoned on his nightstand. Unabashedly not on his wrist where it was supposed to be. Aelin couldn’t think, she just stared at it and felt her heart splinter.

Until the sound of the front door bursting open and closed.

“How was practice, honey?” She heard Rowan’s mom ask him, but he just grunted. Aelin frowned. “Aelin’s in your room by the way,” she added, and Aelin sat up fully, wiping at her face to get rid of any trace of tears.

It wiped away a bit of the concealer she’d carefully applied that morning, but it was alright. He’d seen so many of her bruises it didn’t matter anyway. His mom had seen a few, ones she’d tried to explain away unsuccessfully, but hadn’t pushed the matter.

The couple of times Lianna Whitethorn had tried to bring up legal action, Aelin had shut it down immediately. It wasn’t worth the trouble. She didn’t want to owe them anything more than what she already did.

As Rowan headed down the hallway, Aelin darted up, reaching for his closet to pull out the blankets and extra pillows needed for their pillow fort. He’d made it the first year, but now it was tradition to make it together. They’d gotten pretty good at it over the years.

The bedroom door opened right as she dropped the pile on the floor and her best friend stumbled in, dropping his football bag on the ground next to it. She furrowed her brows, analyzing his appearance. His hair was messy and he was sweaty like he always was after practice, but his head was down, not giving her a good look at his face.

“Rowan?” Aelin asked hesitantly, turning to sit cross legged on his bed. “You good?”

He just grunted again, looking like he was going to head right back out the door and down to the bathroom, but she stopped him, darting up and placing a hand on his arm.

“Hey,” she said firmly, turning him to face her. And her face fell yet again as he finally looked at her. Looked at her with red, bloodshot eyes. His pupils were dilated, nearly hiding all of that beautiful green, and she knew. “Are you high?” She asked, completely shocked.

Rowan just stepped away from her, slurring “I don’t know what you mean.”

She clenched her jaw. ‘What the hell happened?” She asked, her voice tight. “You were at football practice.”

He looked away again, shrugging loosely. “One of the boys had a joint after practice, Archer I think? They were all doing it.”

“So you did it too?” She huffed. “Gods, Rowan. And you drove home like this?”

“Walked,” he said, slumping down onto the bed. “Left my car.”

She heard the telltale signs of the front door opening and closing again, and then the fiddling of the lock, signalling Rowan’s mom leaving for her shift at the hospital. Leaving them alone.

Aelin sighed heavily, walking in front of him and grabbing his jaw with a hand, tilting his face to get a proper look at him. His eyes were hazy and bugged out, his mouth slack and his gaze altogether unfocused.

“Gods, how much did you even smoke?” She asked, sighing heavily when he just shrugged again. “Okay, I’m going to get you some water okay?”

He didn’t say anything, so she left him laying there, toeing off her shoes and padding to the kitchen quickly and filling up a cup with water from the sink. Once back in his room, she grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to sit up a bit and lean against the headboard, kneeling next to him on the bed and holding up the cup to his mouth.

He hesitated, but after she pinched his arm he complied, opening his mouth and letting her get water into it. They repeated it a couple of times, and she made sure he swallowed after every gulp until the cup was empty.

Aelin set it down on his nightstand, next to the bracelet he’d seemingly taken off who knows when. She hadn’t seen him at all today, or yesterday. He’d been busy with practice, and she’d had music lessons after school.

She’d really dived into music more and more since entering high school, and even found a new passion in writing lyrics. During boring classes, she’d take out her journal and scribble down little poems that she later tried to set to music when given free time with the piano at school or at the music store down the street.

The owner there, Emrys, was always nice enough to let her use it.

It was a great way to vent, and she found that whenever she couldn’t process what she was feeling, translating it into song was helpful.

“I’m going to be sick,” Rowan muttered a few seconds later, and Aelin cursed, helping him to a stand. She managed to get him down the hallway and into the bathroom before he was falling to his knees and vomiting in the toilet.

She brushed his back soothingly as he retched up whatever he’d eaten that day, murmuring words of comfort.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, darting back to the kitchen to get more water. He was breathing heavily, but was leaning against the wall and away from the toilet when she returned, taking the cup from her willingly.

She sat down next to him, watching him carefully as he took small sips of water.

“Are you feeling any better?” She asked, and he sighed, simply taking another sip of water. But then his bleary gaze focused on her face.

Without saying anything he reached out a hand, lightly caressing the bruise on her cheekbone. Aelin couldn’t stop herself form leaning into his touch, but didn’t fight it as his arm dropped again.

“Let’s get you into bed,” she said, unable to hide the tinge of disappointment in her voice. It was their sleepover, it was supposed to be her comfort to escape from the memories of her parents’ death. It was supposed to be one of the only times they just got to be them.

She was happy to be here to help him, but she was still disappointed.

Rowan followed her willingly, letting her help him up and back down the hallway, helping him get his shoes off and onto the bed, taking one of the discarded blankets that was supposed to build their fort and laying it on top of him.

He fell asleep quicker than he probably ever had, and Aelin just laid on top of the bed next to him, staring back up at the ceiling fan. Words were swirling around in her head, and she took her phone out of her pocket, opening her notes app and jotting a few things down. It was a bit nonsensical, but all the best music was. She’d fix it later.

She stiffened as Rowan turned in his sleep, reaching an arm out carelessly to hook around her waist. His nose burrowed in her hair, and she could barely breathe, feeling every inch of the closeness between them.

It took her a few minutes to calm down, and even longer to even entertain the idea of sleep. But after getting over the initial shock, his arms around her were familiar and comforting, and she put her phone down and sunk into the grasp, letting sleep take her.

But even as the world drifted away, the sight of that bracelet on his nightstand haunted her dreams.

---

An indiscernable amount of time later, she was woken up to the soft sounds of sniffling, and she cracked her eyes open to see Rowan laying next to her, his eyes on the ceiling fan as he tried to hide his evident tears.

“Rowan?” She asked, turning to face him. It was pitch black outside, so it must’ve been the middle of the night. “Are you alright?” She asked, her voice raspy.

He started to nod his head before realizing it was futile and shaking it instead. Something close to a sob escaped him. “What am I doing?” He asked, and her heart splintered a little more. “Why the hell did I do that?”

She knew what was bothering him. It was what always bothered him.

She sighed, sitting up a little bit to fully face him. His green eyes were watery, but they were back to normal and she was grateful to see the change. Even through the devastation in them.

“I try so hard not to be like him,” Rowan whispered, “and yet here I am, getting high and hurting myself. Hurting you.” His eyes were glued to hers, vivid in the dark room. “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you today, and yet I was vomiting in the bathroom while you kept me safe.”

“Row-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted, a rebellious tear spilling down his tan cheek. “I’m so sorry.” He normally didn’t let his insecurities show, but this was the one thing that always got him.

“Rowan,” she said more firmly, scooting a bit closer and daring to set a hand on his cheek. “I’m okay, okay? I’m here, I’m fine. Yeah, I can’t lie and say I think smoking weed was a good decision.” She cracked a wry smile and he huffed a tiny laugh. “But I understand the pressure. And I think the fact that you’re so worried about it shows so much that you will never be like your dad, alright?”

He hesitated, but nodded, sniffing back his emotions.

“Can I hold you?” He asked, and she tried not to read too much into the question, but complied, laying back down beside him and letting him wrap both his arms around her, pulling her in close. She was fully wrapped in his body, and she let her eyes fall closed, tucking her nose into his shirt and breathing him in.

They fell asleep again like that, finding comfort in each other. Despite the way everything was changing, that was something that hadn’t.

Yet, as they woke up the next morning and got ready for school with soft smiles and tired hearts, neither of them mentioned the bracelet.

Now

Rowan needed a drink. Desperately.

After the talk with Aelin the day before, he’d gone back to work completely out of it, and his new coworker Fenrys had talked him into going to the bar with him that evening. He’d agreed, and the drinks had admittedly cleared his head for a little bit.

But it’d all returned the next day, so here he was again, outside the same bar, hoping to have that hour or so of freedom.

It maybe wasn’t the best method, but he’d both texted and called Aelin earlier in the day to no avail, so he needed to get lost for a little bit while figuring out what to do to help her. Or at least get her to see that he was there for her.

It was chilly outside, so he’d worn a sweater probably nicer than needed for the establishment he was going to, but he hadn’t finished unpacking all of his clothes. So this was what he had to work with.

But he barely even cared as he pushed open the door, welcoming the chaos of the crowd inside. It was noisy, and no one noticed him as he slipped up to the bar, ordering a whiskey.

He sat down on a barstool, jiggling his leg and staring at the bartender as he waited for his drink. Just a couple, and then he’d go home and get some sleep. He really needed some good sleep.

“You again,” a familiar voice slurred, and he furrowed his brow. “Of course you’re here.”

He turned, seeing Aelin sitting down a couple of barstools away from him, several empty glass in front of her. From that, her voice, and the way her eyes were slightly glossy, it was clear she was well past sober.

“Aelin,” he said, a tad surprised.

“I was trying to escape my problems,” she continued to say, slumping her head against her hand and stirring the cocktail in front of her. “But you’re just following me around.”

“I’m a problem?” He asked, raising a brow, trying to hide the hurt he felt from the words. But Aelin scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. The motion took her head with it, and therefore pulled it off her hand, and she nearly fell over if not for Rowan reaching to help straighten her.

Gods.

He grabbed the drink from the bartender and scooted over to sit next to her, brows furrowed in concern.

“You’re not a problem per se,” Aelin continued, gesturing wildly at him. “You’re just- you’re just mean.”

“Oh so I’m just mean?” Rowan asked, one side of his lips quirking up. “That’s all?”

“You’re making me feel too much,” she complained, taking a large sip of her cocktail, which left a line of pink on her upper lip. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“What does that mean?” He asked, taking a sip of his drink. He couldn’t deny he was curious. Maybe prying just a little bit.

She groaned, dropping her head to the bar top. “I don’t like feeling.” She tilted her head to look at him, her eyes bleary, mascara smeared. “It hurts.”

He’d been chuckling a minute ago, but now concern was spilling through his veins and he wondered if it was just best for her to go home.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, sitting his drink down. She shrugged, the movement awkward in her position.

“Drinking my problems away,” she said, “but they don’t like leaving.” After that, she sat up abruptly, reaching for the half full cocktail glass and draining the rest of the contents. “Ah,” she said, smacking her lips. “Delicious.”

She tilted her head back, but the movement, like before, took her too far and she almost slipped off the back. She would’ve, if he hadn’t darted behind her to keep her from falling flat on her face.

“Okay,” Rowan said, helping her stand up. “Time to go home.”

She mumbled a protest, shaking her head. “I just got here,” she said, and he laughed humorlessly at the clearly untrue statement. He’d just gotten here, but it didn’t matter now.

“You need to go get some sleep,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and letting her lean against him as they stumbled toward the exit. He’d thrown cash on the bar top, hoping that was enough to cover what they both owed.

But suddenly, she stopped, shaking her head rapidly. “I can’t go home,” she said, looking up at him, her blue eyes wide and drunk. “He’s there.”

Rowan froze, eying her carefully. “Who’s there?”

“Farran,” she said, sounding surprisingly sober. “He’s a regular but I didn’t want to tonight, I couldn’t tonight so I bailed and ended up here.” She shook her head. “He’ll be waiting for me. I can’t go back.” Her eyes were wide as she added one last thing that chilled him to the bone. “He’ll hurt me.”

Rowan loosed a heavy breath, fighting the urge to go over to her place and beat this Farran guy up. But he needed to make sure she was safe. That was the priority.

“Okay,” he nodded, “we’ll go to mine. How does that sound?”

Her eyes were still wide but she nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he said, forcing a small smile onto his face. “But don’t judge the place too harshly, I haven’t had time to set up.”

A small giggle escaped her and he took that as a sign of success, hugging her close to him as he hailed a taxi.

It didn’t take long, and once they were inside, she leaned up against him, resting her head on his chest. Rowan wrapped an arm around her, combing gently through her hair as she nuzzled into his shirt. The contact made him blush slightly but he pushed the feeling away.

It was a short ride, and soon enough they were at his apartment complex. He knew the stairs would be daunting for her, so all he did when they got out was hoist her into his arms, her heeled feet floating in the air as she cuddled into him, not even speaking.

In fact, she was nearly falling asleep.

So much so, that when they got upstairs, after he carefully transferred her weight to unlock his apartment door, all he did was walk into his bedroom and set her down carefully on his mattress. He took off her shoes gently, but left her in her dress, not wanting to do anything that would make her uncomfortable.

Rowan tucked a blanket over her carefully, and then grabbed her a glass of water and some advil for when she woke up. She could stay for however long she needed, if only so she was safe. Not just because he wanted her around, though he did. But he felt like he owed it to her after all the years apart, after all the mistakes he’d made.

Plus, he cared too much about her to let her be in danger. He wanted her safe, and preferably happy. If that meant with him, he wasn’t about to complain.

Rowan went over to the door, about to flick off the lights and leave her to rest in peace, fully prepared to go sleep on the couch.

But then -

“Stay?” Aelin’s croaky voice asked, reminiscent of when she was sick just the week before. And who was he to deny her?

So with barely any hesitation, he turned off the light and took off his own shoes, climbing up next to her on the bed. He laid down a respectful distance away from her, but she rolled onto her side, reaching out for him.

She curled up to him like a koala, tucking her nose into his neck and wrapping her arms around his body. Rowan just placed an arm around her, holding her close. If this was the comfort she wanted, he would provide it.

“Get some sleep, Fireheart” he murmured quietly, combing through her hair gently. She mumbled something he didn’t quite comprehend, something like I and then he heard ou, with a v sound in there somewhere.

It wasn’t very clear, but he wasn’t going to wake her up to ask. She fell asleep easily, and after a few more minutes, he did too.

Eight Years Ago

Aelin felt surprisingly jittery as she stepped into the building, her feet shaking a bit in her tall heels as she walked toward the entrance to the hotel conference room, where their junior prom was located.

She hadn’t even decided to go until earlier that day, and scrambled for the store to get a dress and shoes, and then do her hair well and makeup, which she’d never really done before. At most she wore mascara and concealer to class every day, this was her first time doing more. Her mom should’ve been the one to teach her, but instead, she’d figured it out on her own.

The hours wasted on that aside, Aelin thought she looked nice, and she was actually feeling excited about this. She was excited to see Rowan. Sure, things hadn’t been the same between them for a while now, something that had been the subject of multiple half-written songs, but it was still Rowan.

He was still her best friend, no matter how much she’d prayed to the gods that he could be something more.

Rowan didn’t know she was coming, and nerves fluttered through her as she pushed open the door into the main room. It was decked out in style, matching the 1920s Flapper theme, or whatever Student Government had come up with. All she knew was that in her golden dress, she nearly fit in with the decor.

She spotted him quickly enough, standing by a wall, sipping on a glass of punch. She smiled weakly, though it fell when she saw him talking to another girl, even if he didn’t look very enthused to be doing it.

She could tell the exact moment he saw her though, because his face went slack. His green eyes went wide, and Aelin smoothed down her skirt with shaking hands, staying still and smiling nervously as he walked over to her, abandoning the girl he was with.

“You look… absolutely beautiful,” he said, shaking his head, and she could feel her entire face break out into a flush.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she said teasingly, which was an understatement. In the black suit he wore, with a black shirt underneath, he looked absolutely mouthwatering. Warmth stirred through her body, pooling in her core, and she glanced away, trying to fight the arousal. He was her best friend, she couldn’t feel like that.

Especially when he didn’t feel the same way back.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Rowan said, and she shrugged.

“It’s prom,” she said, “you only get two in your whole life. I don’t know where I’ll be next year, so might as well try this time.”

Rowan narrowed his eyes at her wording, but didn’t press her. He didn’t like it when she talked like that, more pessimistically, almost fatalistically, but what else was she supposed to do? Her life didn’t exactly make it easy to consider where she’d be in a year’s time.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “I’m happy to see you.” His lips quirked up in that little half smile of his she loved, and her heart fluttered. Aelin smiled bashfully, tucking her bottom lip into her mouth to hide it. “Want to get some punch?” He asked, and she nodded, a jolt of electricity racing through her when he lightly touched her lower back to guide her to the refreshments table.

The back of her dress was open, meaning she could feel his rough calluses from football directly against her smooth skin. It wasn’t exactly helping her hide what he did to her.

They didn’t speak as he got her a glass of punch, and they hovered over by the side of the room as she sipped on it. The room was crowded, with loud music playing, but instead of feeling overwhelmed at the chaos, she was at peace there next to him.

He was wearing his bracelet, visible in brief moments when he moved his arm, and she was happy to see it back where it belonged. He’d put it on again the day after the failed sleepover, not mentioning why it was off in the first place, but it hadn’t budged since.

“Rowan!” A shrill voice cut through the music playing in the room, and Aelin’s face fell as Remelle LaFleur made her way over to where they were standing. “There you are!”

The blonde was wearing a skin tight ice blue dress, and no matter how much Aelin hated her, she couldn’t deny she looked good. Head cheerleader, blonde beauty, she was the queen of the popular crowd, and tended to treat Aelin like she was the scum on the bottom of her high heeled shoe. She had since elementary school.

Rowan, being on the football team, was too high status for Aelin’s company, which Remelle never failed to remind her. This time, she just disregarded Aelin entirely, pushing past her to nearly throw herself at Rowan.

“I haven’t seen you all evening,” she pouted, making Aelin want to gag.

“Remelle,” Rowan said, forcing a smile to his face. At least she liked to think it was forced. Something sank in her stomach. “How are you?”

“I’m doing amazing,” Remelle cooed, and Aelin nearly rolled her eyes. “Benson spiked the other punch bowl,” she said, “makes the evening much more fun. Do you want some?”

Aelin almost said something, but Rowan nodded, reaching over to the punch bowl on the other side of the table, filling up a cup. She felt queasy. “Do you want some, Aelin?” He asked her, and she was going to shake her head, but Remelle answered for her.

“Of course she doesn’t,” she said dismissively. “She’s such a prude.”

“Just because I don’t want to drink at prom doesn’t mean I’m a prude,” Aelin spit without thinking, earning Remelle’s full attention for the first time that evening. The blonde looked at her with her icy eyebrows raised, an ugly snarl on her lips.

“Oh yeah?” She asked, and Aelin clenched her jaw. “You’re just a joke.” She spit the word as if it was the worst insult imaginable. “You’re such a child," she shook her head. “I don’t know why Rowan even bothers to put up with you. Probably just out of pity cause your parents died and your new daddy hits you.”

Aelin was shaking - with anger, shame, frustration - she didn’t know what.

“Hey, back off,” Rowan interrupted, his voice harsh. “Who do you think you are?”

Remelle just turned to face him, smiling prettily. “I’m just trying to remind her of her place,” she said casually. “The school charity case.”

Aelin couldn’t sit there anymore, she turned and headed in the opposite direction, toward the exit. She pushed open the double doors aggressively, hurrying down the hallway in her heels until she was far away from the blaring music. It was only then she collapsed against the wall, bracing herself up with a hand.

“Fireheart,” Rowan’s voice reached her ears, slightly breathy like he’d chased after her.

“What,” she snapped, squeezing her eyes shut. “What do you want?”

He stayed silent for a moment, and she breathed slowly, feeling him come up behind her. He lightly grabbed her chin, turning her head gently to look at him. Aelin opened her eyes, slightly blurry from the tears. Her best friend was looking back at her so sadly, and she sniffed, turning her head out of his hand.

She sucked in a shaky breath, smoothing down her dress.

“Let’s just get back inside,” she said flatly. “I don’t need to let her know she affects me.”

Rowan caught her hand as she turned to walk back to the doors, and her eyes watered as he lifted it, pressing a quick kiss to her palm.

The trip back into the room felt like a blur, her ankles wobbling in her too tall heels as she headed back inside, her buzzard at her side. She breathed deeply as she pushed open the door, keeping her chin high.

And was immediately met with a bowl full of punch.

She couldn’t move as it was thrown all over her front, the red liquid soaking through her dress and staining her skin, slowly dripping down the golden fabric. Blood rushed through her ears, and she could practically hear her heart pumping as she stood there unable to move as the other bowl was dumped from above, soaking her hair and dripping down her face and ruining all of the makeup she’d worked so hard on earlier.

She couldn’t hear all of the laughter and the jeers from the rest of her grade, she couldn’t see the flashing lights of pictures and videos, couldn’t hear Rowan yelling at them all, berating them for ruining her fucking life.

He probably wasn’t saying that, but godsdamn did she feel like it.

One night. She was just trying to have one night, and she wasn’t even able to do that.

Hot tears pricked at her eyes, and dripped down her face like burning lava, undoubtedly making streaks in the red liquid covering her.

“Aelin,” a voice finally pierced the haze, and she slowly turned her head, feeling like the world was in slow motion as she looked at Rowan. Her gaze locked onto his green eyes, full of so much concern and sorrow, and in the midst of this fucking chaos, everything settled right into place.

---

Rowan gave her a towel the moment they got to his car, and Aelin spent the ride to his house wringing spiked punch out of her hair. His mom was working a night shift, so they’d have the place to themselves.

Aelin hadn’t originally planned on it, but she couldn’t stand going back to her own house now. Not when she’d have to explain why she was covered in red, and would undoubtedly be laughed at yet again. She couldn’t bear it.

“We’re here,” Rowan said as he pulled into his driveway, and Aelin didn’t bother to respond, holding her shoes in her hand as she climbed out of the car. The concrete bit into her feet, but she didn’t feel it. She didn’t feel much of anything.

Her face was flat and she lagged behind as her best friend unlocked the door to his house, holding the door open for her to trudge inside. She wanted to flop on the couch and cry, but she also didn’t want to touch anything, lest she stain it.

“Can I shower?” She asked, her voice cracking a bit. She hadn’t talked all car ride there.

“Of course,” he said, taking the towel from her as she began to head down the hallway, toward where his bathroom was. She’d been over here so many times it was practically second nature. “Hey, Aelin?” Rowan called softly, and she turned, unable to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry.”

All she was able to do was nod absently and walk away.

She felt hollow as she stripped off her dress, watching the red stained fabric fall to the tiled floor. The golden she’d been so excited about…ruined. But no tears pricked her eyes as she pulled her hair down from its style, climbing into the shower and rinsing the whole evening away.

By the time she was done, cleaned off and changed into the clothes Rowan had let her borrow, her mind was whirring. Instead of numbness, she was feeling too much, and it hurt as she traversed back into the living room. Until she saw what Rowan had done.

Tears finally pricked her eyes as she saw the little blanket fort he’d made, creating a cozy little area right in front of the couch.

“To make up for last time,” he said, referencing their annual sleepover, the night he’d gotten high and had cried to her about it. The night she wrote her first song. It hadn’t been long since then, but now she had journals full.

More than a few of them were about him.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, those three little words that she so desperately longed to say but couldn’t.

She forced her legs into action, coming to sit down by him in the little fort. It was spacious inside, with several pillows and blankets making it comfortable, but she still sat right next to him, unable to deny herself that. He smelled like pine, and she could feel the heat emanating off of him. She wanted to drown herself in him.

“I’m sorry,” Aelin said, her voice tight. Rowan’s brows furrowed, and she elaborated. “I ruined your night.” He was already shaking his head.

“No, Fireheart,” he said, reaching out to brush a strand of her wet hair behind her ear. She leaned into his touch. He wasn’t always this touchy with her, and had been even less so recently, so she craved this momentary closeness. “I’m sorry, for not realizing how bad it’d gotten.”

Aelin just shrugged, glancing away from him. There was another moment of silence before - “Do you think I’m a joke?” The words were quiet.

“Aelin,” Rowan said, trying to get her attention, but she wasn’t looking. “Aelin.” His voice was insistent enough that she turned to look, her gaze blurry from unshed tears. “Of course I don’t think that. You’re my best friend, alright?” His expression was full of determination, and she didn’t realize when it happened but somehow they were only inches apart.

Her breathing suddenly felt tighter, her heart pounding and her core heavy with want as she realized how close they were. How she could lean forward just a tiny bit and his lips would be on hers.

He seemed to realize it too, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he glanced down at her lips, leaning almost closer.

“What are we doing?” She asked breathlessly, mad at herself but unable to continue without some sort of provocation. She didn’t want to ruin anything.

“I don’t know,” her best friend whispered back, but it didn’t stop him from moving in, nearly speaking onto her lips.

“What does this mean?” Aelin pressed, desperately hoping for any hint that he felt the same way back. But her hopes were dashed when he answered-

“Does it have to mean anything?” He asked, and her heart crumbled, but she didn’t pull away. It was definitely self-sabotage, but if this was all she could ever get of him… she’d take it.

So Aelin crossed the space between them and kissed him.

He hesitated for a moment, and she paused, wondering if she’d completely misread the situation, but then he was kissing her back. His lips were hot against hers, and she sighed into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, a hand sliding around to her waist, pulling her slightly closer.

He tasted better than she could have ever even imagined, and her whole body felt charged, especially as he tugged her even closer. She ended up practically on his lap, every inch of their bodies touching.

“Gods, Rowan,” she moaned into his mouth, her hands cupping the back of his neck. His had slipped under the hem of her (his) shirt, his skin hot against hers as he continued kissing her, their lips sliding against each other over and over again.

But as he slowly shifted her to lay down against the blankets, Aelin hesitated. The farthest she’d ever gotten with someone was kissing, certainly not anything close to what she wanted to do with Rowan. Right here, right now. But she needed to tell him first.

“Rowan,” she said, an unwilling gasp escaping her as he pressed hot kisses to her neck. “Rowan -” she repeated, pressing at his shoulder, and he paused, pulling back to look at her.

“Are you okay?” He asked, brows furrowed. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she shook her head desperately. But then she bit her lip, her cheeks flushed bright red. “I just - I’ve never done this before.”

Aelin was sure he already knew, or at least suspected. She was an outcast at school, who would she have lost her virginity to? It wasn’t something she was normally embarrassed about, but for some reason she was now.

Until Rowan smiled bashfully down at her. “Neither have I,” he agreed, and she blinked in surprise. She would’ve thought… he was on the football team, he was popular, he had girls like Remelle clinging to him. They were best friends, but for some reason she’d never expected that he would tell her, she just thought she’d always be doomed to lag behind.

“Do you want to figure it out together?” He asked a bit shyly, and in that moment, as she nodded, she had to force herself to remember that he’d already shut down her feelings if he knew it or not. He’d already rejected her. It didn’t mean anything to him, it was just getting the awkward first time out of the way.

Aelin knew all of that. But she didn’t know how long she was going to last without telling him she loved him. She wouldn’t survive this much longer.

But now wasn’t the time. Instead, she just gave in to the deep kiss he pressed to her lips, clutching his shoulders as he awkwardly settled himself on top of her. Her breath caught as she felt him hard against her, her body pounding with desire.

Her toes curled against the blanket as he hesitantly nudged at her lips with his tongue, and Aelin opened her mouth to let him in. She didn’t think she could feel this much going on at once, her whole body felt like it was going to combust.

One of Rowan’s hands was braced by her head, but the other reached for the hem of her shirt, sliding under it to touch the bare skin of her stomach. A shuddering gasp escaped her, despite how light the touch was, and she could feel him grin slightly against her lips.

She clutched his shoulders tighter as he lifted his hand higher, his thumb caressing the underside of her bare breast.

“Is this okay?” He asked, pulling back slightly, and she nodded, sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth. Another gasp escaped her as he brushed his thumb over her nipple, her toes curling against the blanket again. She was going to die.

He swallowed the gasp in another heartstopping kiss, groaning himself as Aelin finally moved her hands to reach for him through his pants. She needed him inside of her, now.

Rowan seemed to sense her urgency, leaning back to take off his jacket and quickly unbutton his shirt, stripping out of his prom clothes as quickly as possible. Aelin rid herself of his shirt, only hesitating a moment before laying back down, feeling suddenly exposed.

But he just let out a shuddering sigh, leaning back down to press a hot kiss to her neck. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her whole body was pounding with desire, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat, and she pulled his head back down for another kiss. This time, his free hand slipped down to the hem of her underwear, slowly, while checking to make sure she was okay, sliding it down her legs.

Aelin was sure her entire body was flushing red, but she fought the urge to curl into herself and hide as he saw her whole body for the first time ever.

A dozen emotions passed over his face, but he just placed a light, reverent kiss to her lips as his free hand brushed over her clit.

“Oh,” she sighed, her brows wrought together and her eyes falling closed as he slowly pressed a finger into her. “Oh gods.”

She’d never felt anything near this before, she felt like she was on fire, like she could dissolve into a thousand little pieces as he added another finger, slowly figuring out what to do, pumping them in and out of her.

“Rowan,” she moaned, her head dropping back against the blankets. She clutched at him desperately, heat racing through every inch of her. But before she could reach that mythical cliff, she stopped him.

He pulled back, a question on his face, but she just lifted herself up on her elbows, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. She hadn’t gotten to see him shirtless anytime recently, and she’d been missing out.

Varsity football had only added to the muscles already defined across his chest and stomach and arms, and it was a mouthwatering sight. She could stare at him forever and never get bored.

“I want you,” she said breathlessly, and he just groaned, reaching for his pants. He pulled a condom from somewhere, sliding it on himself when he took off his underwear. Aelin couldn’t breathe at the sight.

Her heart was pounding as he hovered over her, lacing their hands together and pressing them at the side of her head.

“Let me know if it hurts, okay?” He asked, concern etched across his features, and warmth soared through her. Not desire this time, love.

“I will,” she answered, smiling softly up at him. But the smile turned into a gasp as he pressed into her ever so slightly, her brows wrought together as he pushed in a little more. He was pressing dozens of little kisses to her neck and her jaw, fluttering over her cheeks too.

It didn’t hurt, more uncomfortable, but she urged him to keep going, a long groan escaping her as he sheathed himself in all the way.

And then he started moving.

It was slow at first, and careful, but when she lifted her leg to dig a heel into his back, he picked up his pace, pushing into her faster and faster.

Breathy gasps escaped her the more he went, and he groaned into her lips as he captured them for another kiss, deeper and more desperate this time.

Their hands were clutched tightly together, bodies molding together as they shared this moment. It didn’t take long for Aelin to reach that edge, not for Rowan either, and she clenched around him tightly as they both fell into the grips of pleasure.

Her body shuddered with the pleasure racing through her, and when she came down she was panting. So was Rowan, breathing heavily into her neck.

It took a few moments, but then he was pulling out of her carefully. She winced slightly, but dismissed his concerned look with a shake of her head.

He went to dispose of the condom, but came back quickly, collapsing back down by her side.

Externally, she was exhausted, her body tired from the ordeal she’d never experienced before. Internally, she was panicking.

Was this going to change things? Would it be awkward now? How was she supposed to go on pretending this didn’t happen? Pretending that with every concerned look and gentle touch she didn’t fall in love with him even more?

But she relaxed when Rowan tugged her closer to him, tucking her body in close like they’d slept that fateful sleepover only a few months ago.

And neither of them said anything before falling asleep.

-----

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booknerdproblems · 1 year

Text

I AM VIOLENTLY NOT WELL

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You're On Your Own, Kid

Part 1

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CW: mentions of cancer, implications of prostitution, mention of death, implications of child abuse

~ 10k words

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Now

Rifthold was overwhelming. That was Rowan Whitethorn’s first thought when he’d entered the city. Coming from such a small town, tiny Perranth in the middle of nowhere in Terrasen, it was a big change. He’d never seen a skyscraper before then, and he’d certainly never seen so many of them clustered in one place.

He’d driven all the way from Perranth with all of his stuff stuffed in the back of his car, and he felt oddly out of place in the downtown traffic, commuting to his new apartment while everyone else was commuting to work.

At the age of 25, Rowan could admit to the fact that he’d never left the radius of fifty miles around his hometown. He’d been born there, he’d grown up there, he’d gone to college as close as possible, and to the law school there after that. After his dad had left, good riddance, his mom was raising him by herself, and there hadn’t been enough money to go around for any sort of fancy vacations.

He’d never minded.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t a little out of his depth as he entered a real city for the first time.

Rowan had been content to stay in his little town forever, but the job offer in Rifthold right after college had been too tempting to deny. The money was too good; especially with his mom’s diagnosis. He wanted to support her as much as he could, even if it meant leaving her.

In fact, the first thing he’d done when he’d gotten into his apartment was call her. He’d facetimed her as he opened the door, giving her a little tour of the new place. It was small, and cramped, but it was a good location and an easy walk to his new office.

His mom had been excited for him, but tired from her round of chemo that day. Rowan had hated that he couldn’t be there for her, but he just reminded himself that every day spent here was more money that could go back to her to help save her life. And that made it all worth it.

But he’d begun to feel a little bit suffocated in the apartment, so after getting all of his stuff in, he decided to go for a walk around the area.

And out on the street - it was a whole different world.

The door of his apartment building nearly clipped his heels as he paused in the entryway, looking out at the bustling crowd of pedestrians on the sidewalk. Cars were honking, people were talking, the general chaos and noise of the populated city was overwhelming, but Rowan just breathed in and turned to the right.

He didn’t have any particular destination, but maybe he’d stop for some coffee somewhere. The seasons were slowly changing from fall into winter, and though it wasn’t as cold here as it was in Perranth, there was still an icy breeze in the air. A hot coffee would do him some good, especially if he was going to get all his shit unpacked and ready before his first day of work the next day.

“Watch where you’re going,” a man said gruffly as they nearly ran into each other, and Rowan just blinked at him before continuing to head down the street.

“Okay then,” he huffed under his breath, tucking his hands in his coat pocket. He continued walking down the sidewalk, glancing around at the various buildings. He’d already passed one coffee shop, but he wasn’t ready to stop yet, so he kept going. There were several office buildings around too, with people in business attire entering and exiting, coming back from their lunch breaks or going on their lunch breaks. It was about that time.

That would be his life starting tomorrow. Corporate heaven. Or corporate hell. Rowan hadn’t decided.

He was excited to be a lawyer, that’d been his dream. But he’d always pictured himself in a small town like Perranth, helping protect people like his mother from men like the man who’d once been his father. Or helping kids with no one there for them in the world, stuck in a shitty situation with a shitty excuse of a foster parent. He wanted to be there for them.

But this would do for now.

Maybe the thought had manifested it. Maybe thinking of her for the first time in a long time, having shoved aside the memories for his own sanity, had made the fates laugh at him. Maybe, maybe, maybe. He didn’t know.

But he did know that once he got to an intersection, stopping at the No Walking sign, his life took a turn in a direction he wasn’t expecting.

He’d stopped there at the front of the crowd, on the edge of the street, looking idly at the sidewalk on the other side, at the feet of the crowd across the way.

And that’s how he saw the shoes first.

They were a sleek pair of black suede heeled boots, partially hidden beneath a pair of sleek dark red trousers. Rowan’s gaze followed the legs of those trousers up, seeing a tight black turtleneck and a warm looking black coat. It was a stylish outfit, from what he knew about women’s clothes, but there was something familiar about the body adorned by the outfit.

And his breath caught as he lifted his head up just that little bit more.

Blonde hair, gelled back in a sleek low bun. Tan skin that he had touched just once, and had longed to touch again. And turquoise eyes, ringed with gold, that were so damn familiar.

Rowan could only stare at the sight of the woman across the street. Because she was no longer the girl he hadn’t said goodbye to eight years ago. No. But she was still undoubtedly Aelin Galathynius.

She hadn’t seen him yet, looking down at her phone in her hand, typing away with her thumb gliding across the screen. But Rowan couldn’t tear his eyes away. Even as the signal changed and the crowd brushed past him, he didn’t move. Not as Aelin got closer and closer, crossing the street elegantly in her heels.

He could tell the exact moment she noticed him, because she stumbled just a tiny bit, her tan face turning pale.

She mouthed his name, like she couldn’t believe it, hesitating in the middle of the road.

It was only when a car honked that they broke their stare, Aelin shaking her head as she broke the haze, hurrying off the street.

And closer to him.

“Aelin,” he breathed, when she was a few feet away, safely on the sidewalk with him, a new bustle of people passing by. He hadn’t said her name in years.

“Rowan Whitethorn?” She asked, pressing a hand to her chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here now,” he said, shaking his head a bit bewildered. “What are you doing here?”

Aelin pursed her lips, dropping her hand back down to her side. “I’ve been here,” she answered, with a small, fluid shrug. “For - eight years.”

The words hit a sore spot, and all he could do was nod briefly. He didn’t even know what to say. What to do. He’d been dreaming about seeing her again ever since she left, but now that she was here, the words failed him.

It seemed it was the same for her, and they stood in awkward silence for a moment until her phone rang.

“Shit,” she cursed with exasperation under her breath as she looked at the screen, before looking back up at him apologetically. “I have to go.” She began to lift the phone to her ear, stepping past him, but he grabbed her arm lightly.

“Wait,” he said, feeling the electric jolt that went with touching her race through him. She paused, looking back at him cautiously. “Can we meet tomorrow? For coffee or something?”

He needed to see her again. He couldn’t let her go again.

Aelin hesitated, and his heart raced in anticipation, but she eventually nodded, reaching into her jacket pocket. She returned with a pen and a receipt, scrawling down something on the back of it before passing it to him.

“Here,” she said, stepping back once. “Text me later and we’ll plan something.” She smiled wistfully as she took another step, lifting the phone to her ear once again. “It’s good to see you.”

She was gone before he got the chance to say it back.

------

Eighteen Years Ago

Aelin Galathynius met Rowan Whitethorn when she was seven years old. She was a sprightly little child, everyone used to say so, but the first time she’d seen him, she’d been frowning.

She hadn’t smiled in a few months, ever since she’d moved. What was she supposed to smile about? Now that her mom and dad were - gone.

She didn’t really know what had happened, no one would say it to her. Not the doctor at the hospital, not the nice lady she’d gone with after, and not the man she was staying with now. She didn’t like that man. She’d just moved in with him, moving away from Orynth and to this tiny town in the middle of nowhere, and all he’d done since was scowl.

He looked mean when he scowled.

She’d heard the man and the nice woman talking before she was shuffled into this new house. She’d only caught a few words, something about “foster care” and “dead.” She didn’t really know what that meant for her, but she did know she was in a new place, with no one she knew, with a mean man who’d shut her in her new bedroom for hours the first day she was there.

It was a fine room, or it would be when she hung up some drawings, but she liked the park down the street better. There was a swing there, and even though she was only seven, Arobynn let her go whenever she wanted.

The day she met Rowan Whithethorn she was out at the park. She’d been swinging back and forth, kicking a rock on the ground idly and watching as the sun started to sink lower and lower. It made the sky red, and it was really pretty to watch. She loved red.

There’d been a group of boys throwing around a football on the other side of the park, and it looked like fun but she just stayed in her swing watching from a distance. Until - someone threw the ball too far and it landed with a thunk near her. Aelin glanced at it, wondering if she should bring it back to them, but she didn’t even move before a boy was running over.

Her first thought was how strange his hair was, how silvery it looked in the sunset even though he couldn’t be any older than her. Only old people had silver hair. And she told him so.

“Why does your hair look like that?” Aelin asked, looking at him as he picked up the ball. The boy stood up straight, looking at her oddly. He was a few feet away from her, but she didn’t back down, dragging her sneakered foot through the mulch to push herself back and forth.

“What do you mean?” He asked, and she waved a hand.

“It’s so - shiny,” she said, not able to find a better word to describe it. The boy frowned, reaching for his hair. And he looked so taken off guard and vulnerable that Aelin suddenly felt bad. “I like it,” she added, shrugging. The boy’s cheeks reddened.

“Whitethorn!” Another boy shouted from back on the other side of the park. He looked older, and mean, and Aelin just watched as the silver haired boy ran back toward the group.

She stayed in the swing for another half hour or so, just watching from all the way across the park. She wasn’t needed anywhere anyway. Aelin had only been in Perranth for a week or so, but she’d already learned how things were going to be with the mean man.

She woke up alone, she got her own cereal, she got her own lunch, she entertained herself all afternoon, got her own dinner, and then made sure to go to bed before he started drinking. Aelin didn’t really know what he drank, but she knew it made him even meaner, and she just wanted to stay out of his way.

So she stayed out at the park. It was summertime, so there was no school and it was warm, not like the cold winter months back in Orynth. A wave of sadness rushed through her and she slowed to a stop, staring at her foot.

Her parents never drank that dark stuff. They always made her food and made sure she got to bed on time. Her mom always tucked her into bed and read her a story, showering her with a thousand kisses before finally saying goodnight. She wouldn’t be alone on this swing, her dad would be pushing her, pushing her higher and higher until she was sure she was going to flip all the way over. But he’d always be there to catch her.

Now it was just her.

She sniffed, fighting the tears pricking her eyes. She hadn’t cried once since they’d gone, but she didn’t know much longer she’d be able to hold it back.

“Are you okay?” A voice reached her ears, and she looked up, seeing the boy from earlier. Whitethorn.

“What do you care,” she said dismissively, wiping at her face.

“Want to play football?” He asked, holding up the ball, and she glanced around, seeing that everyone else had left.

“I don’t know how,” Aelin said, narrowing her eyes. He just shrugged.

“I can teach you,” he said, holding out a hand. She stared at it for a second before reaching out, letting him help her off the swing. “What’s your name?”

“Aelin,” she said hesitantly, wiping her eyes again.

“I’m Rowan,” he said, “it’s nice to meet you.”

And so began her first real friendship, and one that certainly changed her life.

-----

Now

Rowan hadn’t stopped staring at the clock for the past hour. It’d been a day since he’d seen Aelin again, and ever since then he’d been counting down the hours until he was supposed to meet her.

He’d sent her a text the evening before, after writing and rewriting it about five times, and she’d responded back fairly quickly, arranging a time to meet for coffee the next day.

He’d been unsettled and unfocused the whole first day at his job, learning the ropes of what he was doing for the firm before getting shown his miniscule office. There wasn’t much on his agenda yet, so all he did was set up his little corner, and stare at the clock.

And when the short hand hit four and the big hand hit twelve, he shut his laptop, sliding it into his bag and immediately leaving his office. No one questioned him as he left the building, merely nodding at the receptionist on his way out.

He was meeting Aelin at a coffee shop not too far away from his office, so when he got out onto the street, it was a quick walk. But his heart was pounding the whole way there, his palms sweating.

The place was quaint, but homey, and it felt very Aelin. He could understand why she’d selected it. Was it a favorite of hers? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything about her anymore.

After ordering and collecting his coffee, he smiled thinly as he spotted her sitting down at a table already, nursing her own steaming cup of coffee. Was it hazelnut? Had her favorite coffee at least stayed the same?

“Rowan,” she said when he got closer, smiling and standing up out of her chair. He didn’t know what to expect until she tugged him in for a hug, pulling him close. Rowan was shocked, but hugged her back after a moment, holding her for the first time in eight years. Gods he’d missed her.

Eventually she pulled back, beaming up at him. It was the same smile she’d always had, and he’d say she was the same except for the light inside her eyes. Despite her horrible upbringing, there’d always been light. Now, those beautiful blue eyes were dim.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a proper greeting earlier,” she said, sitting back down. He sat across from her. “I had an urgent phone call.” She tilted her head, blonde hair sliding over her shoulder. He couldn’t get over how much older she looked, though she was older. She’d been seventeen the last time he’d seen her, before she’d left, and now she was twenty five, much different than the teenager he’d known.

He’d cared so deeply for her, the wound had almost been unmanageable when she left. Even now, it was still a gaping hole in his chest. His best friend; it was good to see her again.

“How are you?” She asked, propping her head up on her chin. “I have to say I’m a little surprised to see you in a city this big. Aren’t you afraid of them?” The words could’ve been offensive if not for the teasing in her voice.

He huffed a chuckle. “I got a job here,” he answered, gesturing out the window. “At a commercial law firm.”

“Really?” Her brows shot up. “Why did you leave Perranth? I thought you were going to stay there forever.” She looked down at her coffee, her voice taking on a new edge at the words.

His heart sank and he smiled thinly, saddened at the words he was about to say. “It’s my mom,” he said, not looking at Aelin. “She’s sick. Cancer. This job offered a better pay, so more money for her treatment.”

“Oh gods,” his best friend said, “I’m so sorry.” He looked up, seeing her eyes so full of sorrow, her hand pressed to her chest like she could contain all of her emotions. “Your mother is an amazingly strong woman, if anyone can beat it, she can.”

It was words he’d told himself over and over again, but they felt more true coming from her.

But all he could do was nod idly, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“How are you?” He asked after a moment, turning her own question back on her. “What are you up to here in Rifthold?”

“Oh, you know how I am,” she said, shaking her head. “Always chugging along.” He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t press her on it. She would talk if she ever wanted to. If not - well it wasn’t his place anymore.

“So,” she said after a few beats of awkward silence. “How is everyone back in Perranth?” It took him a second to realize who she was talking about, because she’d never been close with anyone but him. It’d been a source of pain for her, how the other girls treated her for things outside of her control, and he could always tell no matter how much she tried to hide it.

She wasn’t asking because she was fondly reminiscing on old friends, she was asking because she wanted to see how her bullies were faring so many years later. If their lives were trash or not. It was such an Aelin question he nearly smiled, but his face fell as he remembered a certain person who she deserved to know the truth about.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “Arobynn died.”

“What?” She asked, her head jerking back a little bit.

“Drank himself to death,” Rowan added, “a couple of years ago.” Good riddance. He’d never forgive the man for what he’d done to her.

“I see,” she said, and he wondered how she was taking it. Maybe he shouldn’t have dropped it so casually, but she had the right to know. Arobynn hadn’t been popular, but in such a small town, everyone knew everyone’s business. But he highly doubted Aelin had stayed in contact with him, so she was the only one not to know.

He watched her carefully as she processed the information, nodding slowly and glancing away. Her eyes were unfocused, but then her gaze latched on something and she sighed heavily.

“I have to go,” she said, with a sad smile. Already? “But it was nice seeing you,” she added, standing up out of her chair. “Maybe we can catch lunch together soon?”

Rowan found himself nodding right away, smiling tightly at her as she waved a goodbye, heading toward the door. And so she was gone again.

---------

Sixteen Years Ago

At nine years old, Aelin had discovered that her favorite class at school was music. The teacher was really nice, and let Aelin play her big pretty piano that the other kids weren’t allowed to touch. Apparently Aelin was “very gifted.”

She didn’t quite know what that meant, but she liked how it felt when she was called it.

No one was mean to her in that class, no one sneered at her or made fun of her, and she just got to sit and enjoy the music she was slowly learning how to make.

So yeah, music was her favorite class. But arts and crafts was pretty good too.

That’s where she was right then, humming the new song she was learning under her breath as she messed with the string in front of her. They were supposed to be making bracelets today, that’s what their teacher had taught them how to do.

And then set them free to make their own. Aelin had figured out she was pretty good at this too, and she’d finished her own very quickly.

There’d been dozens of colors to choose from, but the dark green and the silver had caught her eye. It reminded her of Rowan.

A small smile came to her lips at the thought of him. They’d been friends for about two years now, and he’d made those two years better by just being in them. He made her forget about how sad she was, about how mean Arobynn was, about how bad her life had gotten.

He was her best friend. Every day was good with him around.

She smiled as she tied off her own bracelet, ready to ask if her teacher could tie it around her wrist. Until she saw the clock, until she saw that she had another twenty minutes left of class. Plenty of time to make another one.

She hopped off her chair, heading over to the table of string, picking out a red and a gold this time. For Rowan. If she was going to wear green and silver for him, he could wear red and gold for her.

“Another bracelet?” A girl’s shrill voice reached her ears, and Aelin turned, seeing one of her classmates standing behind her, her arms crossed. Remelle, she was pretty sure her name was. “Yours is ugly already, why do you need two?”

“It’s for my best friend,” Aelin answered, her brows furrowed. “I want to give him one.”

They were standing to the side of the arts room, far away from where the nice teacher was sitting. This girl had a reputation, Aelin knew, even if she barely knew what the word meant.

All she did know for sure was that she’d insulted Aelin’s bracelet, and it hurt.

“That’s lame,” Remelle spit at her, and Aelin blinked in shock. “Who would want that anyway? This is just a stupid little craft. And you’re stupid for actually liking it, right?”

Aelin didn’t realize it, but Remelle’s friends had gathered around them, all frowning the exact same way. Was it really…stupid?

She didn’t like to think she let other people’s words affect her, but there was a little sprig of doubt in her. Rowan already was so nice to put up with her the way he did. He had other friends, he had a sweet mom and a nice little house, he didn’t need to deal with her.

He didn’t need a stupid friendship bracelet.

Tears pricked her eyes and she frowned, keeping her hold on the string but shuffling around Remelle and her friend to go back to her seat. Once there, she did make the second bracelet.

But she didn’t give it to Rowan. In fact, she shoved them in the bottom of her backpack and pretended they weren’t there at all.

He wouldn’t want it anyway.

-------

Now

The moment he got back to his apartment after returning to work, he went looking for the special box his mom had packed him. She’d been teary eyed as she’d handed it to him, saying it was his “memory box” and that he better not get rid of a single thing in there.

Rowan had just rolled his eyes fondly at her, but now he just turned on a light in his living room and went searching through the many piles of yet unpacked boxes. It was dark outside, but he couldn’t bring himself to even bother closing the blinds as he found the box labeled in cursive. He pulled it to him, sitting down on the couch as he ripped it open.

There were a lot of pictures of him and his mom, several scrapbooks of them that she’d put together through the years. There was his high school diploma, his college diploma, his law school diploma. His prom king crown that he’d begged her to just get rid of. It’d been his senior prom, the one without Aelin, and the memory wasn’t exactly a good one.

But now, he just set it aside, pulling out the last scrapbook at the bottom. In a fit of emotion, he’d thrown out a lot of the pictures of him and Aelin over the years, unreasonably upset after she fled Perranth. But his mom had this one separate from the rest, and now he was grateful for it.

With a sigh into the silence of his apartment, he flipped open the scrapbook, finding on the first page a picture of him and Aelin when they were seven years old. His smile was wide, and hers was too, but a little more hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to be happy.

But he flipped through the next couple of pages, the way his mom pasted all the pictures together showing them aging through the next couple of years, and he could see her smile grow. It warmed something in him to see her happy, especially that first sleepover they’d had on the anniversary of her parents’ deaths, a tradition he loved even though he’d absolutely ruined the last one. Something he’d forever regret.

But this first one, they both looked happy. They were curled up under a cozy blanket fort, a cartoon on the TV, both of them in their pjs with hot chocolate, big chocolatey smiles on their faces.

A smile crept up onto his own face and he flipped through the next few pages, watching as they began aging even more, as they started middle school (his mom had taken a first day of school picture for both of them, because Arobynn certainly wasn’t going to). He watched as he started football and Aelin was in the stands cheering at his first game, wearing a jersey with his number on it.

He saw their first homecoming, they’d gone together as friends, and the picture his mom had captured showed them smiling at each other. Aelin’s face was a little shy, a little embarrassed almost, while he was smiling gently down at her. It was a nice picture.

There were fewer pictures for this stage of their life, as they’d both gotten busier and busier, and had less time for each other. Aelin with her music, and Rowan with his football. But that just made him appreciate the moments they had together even more.

Until she left.

He knew these pictures only captured the good parts; they looked over the parts that hadn’t been so great. Their friendship hadn’t been free of arguments, and her life hadn’t been so easy breezy as it looked on the page. Not with Arobynn. And his life hadn’t been either, though a lot of that was due to his own choices, his own mistakes; a mix of the desire not to be like his dad and the failure to be anything better. It would haunt him.

His eyes were a bit misty as he got to the last page, but his brows furrowed as he saw a little paper pocket on the last page. His eyes widened as he pulled out a bracelet made out of embroidery floss, a friendship bracelet. It was red and gold, and he knew its pair was green and silver.

Fireheart and Buzzard.

They’d worn each other’s colors, after Aelin had made them for them back in elementary school. He’d taken it off after she left, and thought he’d lost it. Turns out his mom had saved it this whole time. He stared at the bracelet, debating if he should put it on or not, but in the end he just put it back in the pocket. He set the whole book down on the coffee table, leaving it open.

He dozed off with a picture of her staring up at him. Searing it into his mind for the night.

---------

Fifteen Years Ago

Aelin was excited. All day she’d packed and repacked her bag, trying to figure out what she needed. All she was doing was spending the night at Rowan’s house, it wasn’t anything big, but it was her first sleepover ever and she didn’t know what she was supposed to bring.

Maybe she should’ve asked him.

But she didn’t, and she ended up with probably more stuff than she needed.

Rowan had found out the other day that today was the anniversary of her parents’ death, and had decided that she shouldn’t spend the day alone. The past two years she’d cried herself to sleep in her room, and she already could tell that even if she did cry, Rowan would dry her tears.

It felt wrong to be happy, but she was nearly skipping as she headed down the street, her bag tucked over her shoulder as she headed toward his house.

A smile grew on her face as she saw the familiar little cottage looking house, painted white with light blue shutters. It wasn’t big, as it was just Rowan and his mom, but Aelin thought it was brilliant.

Much better than her own house, which was nearly falling apart and unwelcoming. She hated being there, but she loved being here.

“Aelin!” Lianna Whitethorn called warmly as she opened the front door. Her light brown hair was tied up in a loose bun, her green eyes bright, and she was wearing an apron over a comfy looking dress. “Nice to see you.”

“Thank you, Mrs.Whitethorn,” she answered with a smile. “It’s nice to see you too.”

The woman laughed fondly, pressing a warm kiss to her head before ushering her inside. “Rowan’s making a fort in the living room,” she said, “I have some cake in the oven for when you two are finished.”

“Chocolate?” Aelin asked hopefully, sniffing for that familiar delicious aroma. Rowan’s mom made the best cake.

“Of course,” she answered, “what else would it be?” They shared a chuckle before Aelin bounded into the living room. Which was where she found Rowan, like his mom said, cobbling together a fort in front of the couch made of multiple blankets and cushions.

“Need help, buzzard?” She asked, bending down by him. He emerged from the fort quickly, startled by her sudden appearance, but smiled at her, his light hair flopping over his forehead.

“Fireheart,” he said, “happy sleepover.” He gestured at his handiwork. “I made us a fort to watch movies in.”

Aelin crawled inside, crossing her legs under her and pulling her bag off her shoulder. “It’s nice!” She said, looking around. And it was true; it was falling apart a little bit, but it was cozy.

“What’d you bring?” Rowan asked, and she turned her bag upside down and dumped it onto the blanket, watching as clothes, a few card games, some of her favorite toys, and a bunch of other stuff fell out. Like she’d said, she didn’t know what to bring.

But then - two perfectly tied bracelets fell and landed right on the pile of stuff.

“What are those?” He asked, picking one up, and she blushed red. She’d forgotten they were in there, they must’ve been at the bottom of her bag for months now.

“Oh,” she said, fidgeting. “Just bracelets I made in art class last year. One was for me, and the other was -” she trailed off, but he understood.

“For me?” Rowan asked, and she nodded, glancing away. She didn’t want him to make fun of her. But he didn’t, he just set it down next to the other, asking, “Which one’s mine?”

Aelin blinked, looking back at him. “You don’t think they’re stupid?” She asked, and he furrowed his brows, shaking his head.

“They’re nice,” he answered, before deciding for himself and reaching for the red and gold.

Aelin helped him tie it, a small smile on her face, and he helped her tie hers onto her own wrist.

“There,” he said, grinning at her. “I’ll never take it off. You better not either.” She shook her head, curling her feet under her and tucking her chin onto her knees.

“I won’t,” she answered, and he nodded, satisfied.

“Kids!” His mom called, and they both turned their heads toward the door to the kitchen. “Cake’s ready!”

Aelin grinned and bounded up from where she was sitting, looking back to see Rowan looking down at the bracelet now on his wrist.

“Are you coming?” She asked, tilting his head, and he looked up, nodding. A soft smile was on his face.

“Yep,” he answered, standing up. “Always.”

---------

Now

Rowan was filled with nerves. He knew he didn’t need to be, and he knew it was a little stupid, but he couldn’t help but feel jittery as he walked into Aelin’s apartment complex. He’d texted her and organized lunch for that Saturday, after his first full week of work.

He’d done the compulsory call with his mom, and after he got the update about how she was feeling and got the gossip about everyone in town, he’d buckled up and told her that he’d seen Aelin again.

After Aelin had left that fateful day, he’d gone home and unabashedly cried to his mom. Even at seventeen years old, when most boys would scoff at the idea of being so attached to their mothers, Rowan had. It’d been him and his mom for so long, he wasn’t embarrassed by it.

But because of that, she’d known how much this was affecting him.

“So,” his mom had said a few minutes after he’d dropped the news. “How is she doing? What is she doing there in the big city?”

He’d been a little disconcerted by the fact that he had no real answer, and changed the conversation around to a new topic, glossing over the fact that he was getting lunch with her that weekend in favor of more gossip about life back in Perranth.

Rowan didn’t know what she was doing there. She hadn’t told him.

But he was sure he’d figure it out eventually; she probably just didn’t think to bring it up.

He observed his surroundings as he got in the elevator, a glass one that overlooked the lobby as it shot up to the floor Aelin had given him. They’d first planned on meeting at the restaurant, but Aelin had texted him a little bit ago saying she was running late and asked if he just wanted to meet there and head out together.

He could admit to some curiosity about her living arrangements, so he’d agreed. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been this. Whatever she was doing, she was doing well with it.

His eyes must have been wide as he reached her door, down on the end of the hallway. 2138. That was the number on the door, the twenty first floor.

He knocked on it carefully, waiting patiently, but after a few moments there was no response. He waited one more second before knocking again, a little bit louder, and this time he could hear movement inside.

“The door’s open!” Aelin’s voice rang quietly through the thick door, and Rowan hesitated before grabbing the knob and turning it open. Aelin was nowhere to be found, but he was so occupied by the sight of her apartment.

It was… nice.

It wasn’t exceptionally large, but it was well furnished and elegant, with nice finishes in the kitchen and warm, luxurious colors and materials in the living room. It dripped wealth, without being condescending.

It was a very comfortable place, but it wasn’t - Aelin.

Or it was, but it wasn’t, it was confusing. The only part that truly screamed her was the giant grand piano he found tucked in a small room off of the kitchen. But where even was she?

“Aelin?” He asked, his voice ringing through the open apartment. He heard some noise from back in the hallway, so he headed that way. There was one door at the front of the hallway that was firmly shut, but her bedroom seemed to be further back.

He rapped on the open door with his knuckles, peering inside. Her bedroom was soft and warm, with a cozy looking bed and nice furniture. There was one door to a closet he was sure was bursting with clothes; she’d always loved clothes, even though she’d never had the means to collect them.

There was another open door, leading to probably a bathroom, and - clanking noises coming from inside.

“Aelin?” He asked again, heading toward the bathroom.

“I’m here,” she said, her voice weak, “I’m almost ready.”

He stepped into the bathroom, finding Aelin slumped over the counter, trying to weakly brush her hair. She was still in her nightgown, her face a sickly, clammy pale that only came with one thing.

“Aelin?!” He asked, concerned, reaching for her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, pushing her hair behind her ears and pushing herself to a stand.

“Aelin, you’re sick,” Rowan said, reaching for her.

“No, no,” she shook her head, stumbling a bit out of the bathroom. “I’m fine.” He watched as her legs nearly crumpled under her, her knees shaking, and Rowan reached for her, helping support her instead of letting her fall. While helping her stand back up he touched her forehead with the back of his hand, cursing under his breath.

“You’re burning up,” he said, guiding her toward her bed in the middle of the room. “Do you have a thermometer?”

She just grumbled, easily letting him maneuver her onto the bed. She curled onto the comforter, mumbling, “Bathroom.”

Sighing heavily, Rowan made his way into the tiled bathroom, digging through the various hair and makeup products until he found it. With the thermometer clutched in his hand, he went back into the bedroom, kneeling down by her bed.

“Open up,” he said, and she begrudgingly opened her mouth, closing it when he indicated for her too. He waited for the beep, and then pulled it out to look at it, frowning at what he saw.

“101,” he told her, before sighing and standing up. “We’re not going to lunch.”

“But -” Aelin started to say, but he cut her off.

“Nope,” he interrupted. “I know you like to pretend you’re not sick, but you’re not going anywhere in this condition.” His heart ached at the familiarity of this exchange; it was true what he’d said, she always liked to pretend everything was okay. “Do you have anyone who can come stay with you?”

Because as much as he wanted to be the one to help, he wasn’t going to push her boundaries.

She didn’t answer, and he glanced over, wondering if she’d fallen asleep, but she was just staring at him. Her eyes were a tad hazy from fever, but her expression was surprisingly clear as she slowly and minutely shook her head.

Rowan’s chest squeezed but all he did was nod once, not wanting to pry. “Okay,” he said lightly, “I’ll stay then, if that’s alright with you.”

“Okay,” she croaked out, before burrowing her face in the pillow. “Buzzard,” she added, murmuring into the fabric, and a smile rose to his face unbidden.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “I’m going to get you some medicine and something to eat.” Without waiting for a reply, he left the bedroom, heading into the kitchen in search of the medicine. He found some stuff that would hopefully reduce her fever, and set about looking for some soup or something to heat up for her.

He searched in the pantry, before looking in the cabinets, even in the drawers, but was coming up bare. In fact, there wasn’t much food at all. There were some crackers that looked like they were going at least partially stale, a bag of chips, and that was pretty much it.

His brows were furrowed almost painfully, his mind whirring with things he didn’t want to think about. Maybe she just needed to go to the grocery store.

Shaking his head, he grabbed a cup from one of the cabinets, filling it up with water from the fridge and turning to walk back to her room.

Inside, he found her curled up on her bed, long golden hair spilling over her shoulders and covering part of her face. Perching on the edge of her bed, he lightly pushed her hair behind her ear, revealing that beautiful face of hers.

She’d always been so beautiful. Inside and out. Even if she didn’t believe it herself.

“Hey,” he whispered, lightly touching her shoulder. She grumbled, but cracked her eyes open, her dark eyelashes barely revealing those bright eyes.

“Rowan,” she murmured, barely able to focus on him. His lips pinched together; she didn’t look good.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” He asked, “You seemed fine at coffee.”

“This morning,” she answered, her voice weak. “It kept getting worse and worse. I’m so tired.” Her voice broke at the last part, and his heart nearly broke too. Especially when her eyes fluttered shut.

“Hey,” he said, a little more firmly. “Take these pills and then you can take a nap, alright?” She mumbled unintelligibly, but opened her mouth, and he huffed a laugh as he set the pills right on her tongue, helping her get a sip of water. “Good job,” he praised, leaning over to set the glass down on the side table. “Get some sleep okay? I’m going to run out to the store to get you some food.”

He went to stand up, but felt a hand grab lightly onto his shirt sleeve. Rowan paused, turning to look back down at her. Her turquoise eyes were open again, staring up at him.

“Stay?” She asked, and he hesitated. She was sick, she wasn’t thinking clearly, it really wasn’t his place to do this anymore. No matter how many times they’d had sleepovers as kids, no matter how many times they’d shared a bed, no matter that one time they-

This was different. And yet…

He wanted to.

“Are you sure?” Rowan asked hesitantly, but she nodded without hesitation, albeit weakly, and tugged at his sleeve. A huff of a laugh escaped him and he toed his shoes off, following her direction to climb onto the other side of the bed.

“I missed you,” Aelin mumbled, barely audible, her voice muffled in the pillow. Rowan leaned back against the headboard, looking down at her fondly.

“I missed you, too,” he said, just as lightly, though she gave no indication of hearing him properly. He was pretty sure she was falling asleep. He carefully pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, ordering some soup to be delivered to her apartment.

She needed something to eat, but he didn’t want to leave her.

After doing that, he set his phone down on the nightstand, returning to stroking her hair back from her forehead with a gentle touch.

When he was sure she was asleep, that’s when he let some of his words finally spill out. “I’ve missed you every day for the past eight years,” he whispered, looking down at her sleeping face. “When my mom got sick, you were the first one I wanted to tell. Every good thing, every bad thing, that’s happened to me, I wanted to tell you. But you were gone.” He sighed. “And I know I shouldn’t complain, I never wanted to be the person who tied you down anywhere. Especially in a place I know you hated so so much. But, maybe give me the chance to get to know you again?”

He sighed again, the sound crackling through the quiet room. He kept caressing her hair gently, the golden strands so familiar under his fingers.

“I know you’re sleeping and you can’t hear me,” he continued. “I just had to get it out.”

Rowan leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her sweaty forehead. “Get some sleep, alright? I’ll be here when you wake up.”

----

Rowan woke her up a little bit later to eat some soup and check her fever, and luckily it’d gone a degree, so he let her go back to sleep. She’d cuddled back up under her blanket, leaning into him for warmth, and he’d resigned himself to the fact that he couldn’t move for the next few hours or so.

But then she’d rolled over to face the other way, and deciding he needed to stretch his legs, he got off the bed, taking a little walk around her apartment. He felt bad about snooping, but he couldn’t deny his curiosity.

He still didn’t know much about her life here, as she hadn’t really gotten the chance to tell him and he hadn’t gotten the chance to ask.

She’d murmured something earlier, in the midst of some sort of fever ridden haze, about an appointment later, but she’d just gone back to sleep and he hadn’t woken her up to ask.

It wasn’t his business unless she decided to make it his business.

Yet here he was, snooping.

Resigning himself to his fate, he padded into the living room, taking another glance around everything there. Nothing was moved or bothered from earlier, and there was nothing he could see that was out of the ordinary. There were some bills tucked into a kitchen drawer, but that was about it. It was all stark.

The piano in the front room was just as gorgeous as it’d been earlier, and it was the only piece in there, besides a few journals stacked on top. He opened one up, but upon finding some scrawled out lyrics across the pages, he closed it again. That felt too personal.

He’d known for years she loved writing songs, was she somehow doing something with that now? He’d be proud of her if she was; she’d never thought she’d get anywhere with it.

Taking a deep breath he left the room, heading toward the last room he hadn’t checked. The other door in the hallway by her bedroom.

But all it was… was what appeared to be a guest room. Nothing particularly exciting, just a big plush bed with a dark red velvet comforter, a few lounging chairs in the corner, a dresser toward the front, and a connecting bathroom.

That was all.

He wouldn’t be getting any information from this apparently. Probably for the best, he realized, and he closed the door behind him quietly before heading back to Aelin’s bedroom. She was right where he left her, curled under her blanket, and he bent down to kiss her hair before scooping up her cup of water and empty soup bowl.

After putting the bowl in the sink and refilling her water cup, he climbed back onto the bed, returning to his spot next to her. And he’d be right there when she woke up. Right where she left him.

-------

Twelve Years Ago

Aelin was back on her swing, kicking at the dirt on the ground as she fought the tears pricking her eyes. She couldn’t cry, she couldn’t cry, she couldn’t cry. If she cried, it would just all be worse.

She sniffed, and pain ached through her cheek. She lifted a shaky hand and pressed it against the red splotch on her cheekbone, squeezing her eyes shut. It wasn’t the first time Arobynn had hit her, but it’d never been so visible.

She didn’t like looking in the mirror and seeing that face looking back. It’d been six years without her parents, six years of living with him, and it was still difficult to swallow sometimes.

“Fireheart?” Rowan’s voice reached her ears, and she wiped at her face quickly, angling her bruised cheek away from him as he sat down in the swing next to her. “Are you alright?”

Aelin nodded, only glancing at him briefly before looking away. He was growing his hair out, the silvery strands flopping a little bit over his forehead and ears. It was the cool style, apparently. Partway through middle school, he’d decided to try and embrace it.

Aelin didn’t see him much at school, unfortunately. They didn’t have a lot of classes together, and now that he was doing football after school too, he wasn’t around as much. But he was still her best friend.

“I’m fine,” she said, quietly, her voice weak, and she knew he was narrowing his eyes at her.

“Really?” He asked, his voice accusing, and she would’ve just ignored it had his voice not also cracked on the second half of the word. Aelin couldn’t help but smile, ready to make fun of him, but in the moment she forgot what she was hiding and turned to face him. She knew she messed up when his own face fell.

“Is that a bruise?” He asked, and she lifted her hand quickly, glancing away from him. “Hey,” he said, his voice suddenly much more serious, “did he do that to you?”

Aelin sniffed again, but nodded slowly, turning to look back at him. His green eyes were hard.

“He was in a bad mood,” she explained, keeping her voice steady. “And I was being too loud.”

“What were you doing?” He asked carefully, and she shrugged.

“I was getting a bowl of cereal,” she said quietly, looking down at the dirt. “I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday because there was no dinner in the house, so I was hungry. I asked if I could go to the store but he didn’t give me any money. And then -” she gestured to her face, “he hit me.”

Rowan’s eyes promised violence.

“It’s really okay,” she added, trying to calm him. “I already try to avoid him as much as possible, I just will even more now.” A tear slipped down her bruised cheek. Aelin felt vulnerable telling him this, but yet, she wanted him to know. She wanted him to know everything about her.

Silence fell, no sound but the wind whipping around the playground, through the dry grass of the field.

“My dad hit my mom,” Rowan said a few minutes later, and she glanced over at him in alarm. This time, he wasn’t looking at her, just out into the distance. “She’s never told me, but I put the pieces together.” He shook his head, his jaw clenched. “He started doing drugs, and he started hitting her. Until one day, when I was four, he just left.”

Aelin’s heart was breaking at the thought of his mom going through that. She was the sweetest, most genuine person she’d ever known. To go through all of that and still work and raise Rowan the way Lianna Whitethorn did… Aelin would forever admire her strength.

“I never want to be like him,” her best friend continued, shaking his head again. “It’s my biggest fear,” he confided. “That his blood is too strong and I’m going to turn out to be just as big of a piece of shit as he was.”

She shook her head immediately. “Never,” she said, and his face was vulnerable too when he looked back at her. “You’ll never be like him.”

It wasn’t possible. Her buzzard couldn’t be anything but the best person she knew.

”Thank you,” her best friend said quietly, and she kept looking at him until he turned to face her, his expression earnest. “I want you to know that if you ever need a place to stay, I’m here for you, okay?”

He reached for her hand, squeezing it once, and Aelin smiled at him, unable to stop the fluttering inside of her. She didn’t understand the feeling at first as it grew, spreading throughout her entire body, filling all of her veins and all of her arteries, consuming her with the feeling like she could fly, if only he was with her.

It was then she realized she never wanted to be anywhere else.

Shit.

---------

Now

Aelin had woken up later that night feeling a lot better, and Rowan was grateful to see the change. It’d been about six or so hours where she was just completely knocked out, and he was glad to see the color returning to her cheeks.

He’d been nervous when her eyes had first cracked open, when that bleary gaze had landed on him, but all she’d done was smile softly up at him.

“Hi,” she’d murmured, and he’d said hi back. Then he’d taken her temperature, and suggested maybe she should sit up for a bit. She’d agreed, so there they were, out on her couch in the living room.

Aelin was still leaning heavily against the cushions, but there was a bit more of a spark in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she told him, for about the fifth time since she’d woken up, and this time all he did was roll his eyes.

“Like I said before,” he said, “you don’t have to thank me. I’m your friend, it’s what friends do.”

He regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth, especially as her brow quirked up in amusement.

“Just friends?” She asked, “not best friends anymore?”

“I think we lost the best when you disappeared to Rifthold,” he said before he could stop and think, and he regretted those words too as he watched her face fall. But her walls were up immediately and she nodded, her lips pursed.

“You’re right,” she said quietly, her voice still weak from the fever. “That’s my fault.”

“No Aelin, it’s-” he sighed, shaking his head. “I get it, I do. I don’t blame you.”

“You don’t?” She asked meekly, and he looked over, seeing her bottom lip quiver with held back emotion. Evident in her voice as she said, “I do.”

Rowan felt the sudden urge to comfort her, but he just stayed where he was, the foot between them feeling like miles. He finally opened his mouth to say something, when there was a knock at the door.

His brows furrowed, and he glanced at the door, and then the clock in the kitchen. It was nearing eleven pm, far too late for any sort of casual guest.

“Fuck,” Aelin cursed, pushing herself up to a stand. She stumbled as she did, her limbs still weak from the fever and from just utter exhaustion, but she shook her head when he tried to reach for her.

“Who is it?” He asked, but she didn’t answer, just dashing over to the mirror in the hallway, trying to aggressively brush her hair down. She was still in her tiny nightgown from earlier, making a blush rise to his cheeks, but it faded when she nearly fell again, her entire body shaking. “Aelin, you need to sit back down.”

“I can’t,” she spit, panicked, and the knock on the door sounded. “You need to get out of here.”

“What?” He asked, confused, but she didn’t offer any more information.

“Celaena!” A male voice on the other side of the door called, knocking on it again. “I’m already ten minutes past my appointment, let’s get this show on the road.”

What the hell? Celaena? Appointment? He didn’t understand.

Aelin had disappeared into the guest room, it seemed, but returned half changed out of her nightgown. Instead, she was in lacy lingerie, trying to get a silk robe on over herself as she hurried out of the room.

“Celaena!” The man called again, and Rowan was frozen in the middle of the living room, watching as Aelin danced around, getting various things ready it seemed.

“You need to leave,” she repeated, fluffing her hair. But he could see the exhaustion lining every inch of her, the tears that were threatening to spill out of her eyes, the wanness of her cheeks.

He was pretty sure he knew what was going on, or was beginning to know, even if he didn’t want to. So he would let his brain figure it out, but right now he just needed this man to leave. Whoever he was, whatever he was doing here, Aelin couldn’t handle it right now.

He stood up from the couch, heading straight for the door and ignoring her cries for him to wait. But Rowan didn’t wait, not as he whipped the door open, revealing a reedy looking brunette man, with a scowl on his face and entitlement dripping from every inch of his pores.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he cursed, pointing back toward the hallway, not leaving any room for misinterpretation in his voice. “She’s not working tonight.”

“Who the fuck are you?” The man cursed back, taking a step toward the door. But Rowan blocked his entry, shaking his head. “Celaena?” He called past him, “I already paid half up front for this! This shithead can’t kick me out.”

“I’m sorry, Tern,” Aelin said, appearing next to him. “But he’s right, I - I can’t work tonight, I caught a fever earlier. I wouldn’t be up to my normal standards.”

Rowan was nearly fuming, his head working on overdrive as he came to far more conclusions than he appreciated. He could barely hear as Tern cursed Aelin out, having to do so to stop himself from attacking the man outright.

But eventually he left, and Aelin moved to shut the door, her eyes falling closed as she sighed.

“Aelin -” he started to say, trying to fight through everything in his mind, but she didn’t move. “I’m so sor-”

“Don’t - apologize,” she cut him off, lifting a hand. “Don’t you dare apologize.” She shook her head, opening her eyes but dropping her head back against the door. “In fact,” she added, her gaze going to his. He blinked at how cold it was. “Just get the fuck out.”

“What?” Rowan asked, baffled. But she just repeated the sentiment, the same words he’d said to that man not minutes ago. “Aelin…”

“You don’t get to judge me for my choices,” she spit, pushing off from the door. “It’s my life and my decisions and my job. You don’t get to kick him out on my behalf. I need that business. I shouldn’t have to get rid of him so you don’t start a fistfight in my fucking apartment.”

“Aelin,” he said, brows furrowed. “You’re barely on your feet. You can barely stand.”

A dry laugh escaped her. “And I don’t need to stand to do my job, do I?”

He didn’t have a response to that, so he just stayed silent, finally digging beneath this sudden anger to reveal what it really was. Embarrassment.

She shook her head again, a tear falling down her cheek. “Just get out, please,” she said, her voice merely a whisper. And all he could do was listen.

-----

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booknerdproblems · 1 year

Text

Help this is so amazing I love the STT universe so muchhhhh. Definitely one for my comfort rereads listtttt

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

Same Time Thursday - Elia's Question

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

Rowan Week day 4: Dad Rowan @rowaelinscourt

eeee i love this oneshot so much, i hope you guys love it too

Credit to @justreadertings for her amazing headcanons that led me to this moment 🥺

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

15 years later

Elia was nearly shaking as she walked into the kitchen that evening, her hand clutching the paper tightly between her fingers. She didn’t know if she wanted to know, and yet she did. She needed to.

Her parents had sat her down a few years ago to tell her about him, but it had been vague and just the barest of information. To be fair, she was only thirteen at that point, but it still didn’t hit at that urge to know more, to understand.

Now she understood too much.

Nausea rose in her stomach as she saw her dad standing in the kitchen by the stove, beginning to prepare their dinner for the night. Her mom was still at the bookstore, and so were her two youngest siblings, Emmett and Emilia. Emerson and Eden were over at Uncle Lorcan’s and Aunt Elide’s with their cousins, and Eliott was sleeping over at a friend’s.

So it was just her and her dad home. Her dad. He was still her dad.

“Hey dad?” Elia asked, her voice shaky.

“Hey baby,” her dad said warmly, not hearing her tone nor her face. He was still facing the stove, making some sort of sauce on the stovetop. Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius was the designated cook in the relationship, because it was common knowledge that Aelin Whitethorn-Galathynius could not cook to save her life. “How was ballet?”

Elia smiled weakly, walking slowly past the huge kitchen island to get closer to him. “It was good,” she fibbed. It’d been fine, they were working on their winter showcase and that was always fun, but her head had been so elsewhere that it had been a horrible rehearsal.

Her dad turned to look at her then, his pale brows furrowed as he undoubtedly saw her emotions on her face. Then his gaze fell to what was in her hands and his face flattened into an expression of understanding.

“Where’d you find that?” He asked, not accusingly but lightly, like he was trying to keep the conversation comfortable. It was so him, so how he’d raised her her whole life that her eyes started watering. She sniffed to try and hide the tears, but she couldn’t, and her dad immediately turned to shut the stove off, crossing the space between them and enveloping her in a warm hug.

Elia hadn’t meant to find the article. Maybe she had, she didn’t know. She’d been in her world history class, and they were doing a research project about big pop cultural moments in different countries in the past few decades. They’d spent the period today looking for sources and developing their research topics, and in a moment of morbid curiosity, Elia had typed his name in.

Arobynn Hamel

There’d been some basic biographical information at the top of the browser, but the link to this article had been right below. Feeling sicker and sicker, she’d read the whole thing, before shakingly asking her teacher to go to the library to print it out.

Then she’d just stared at it until the bell rang, until she’d gone straight to dance and had to think about it for hours, until she could drive home, until now.

“Everything’s okay,” her dad was murmuring to her, brushing her hair while she cried into his shirt. “It was a long time ago. He’s gone.”

She wondered how often he had to say the same thing to her mom.

Elia pulled back slightly, wiping at her face and looking up at him. She was sixteen and nearly fully grown, but he still towered over her, well over six feet compared to her five feet and eight inches or so.

She was her mom’s height, almost exactly. She had her mom’s nose, and her mom’s freckles, and her mom’s eyes. But not her mom’s hair.

“Can you tell me about him?” She asked quietly, wiping her eyes again, and her dad looked slightly surprised but nodded.

“Of course,” he said, gesturing for them to sit down at the island. Elia slid into one of the barstools, tucking her legs up under her. She’d changed into comfy clothes after getting home from rehearsal, and had taken out her tight bun, leaving her red hair hanging loosely over her shoulders.

“What do you want to know?” Her dad asked, hooking his hands together on the kitchen counter. Their house was absurdly large, it had to be to fit six children and two full grown adults, but it always felt homey, and Elia had never appreciated that more than now.

“What was he like?” She asked, her voice trembling. Her dad loosed a heavy sigh.

“Well,” he said, “if I’m being honest, I only interacted with him once.” She was a little surprised by that, though she didn’t know why. She had no way of knowing all that had gone down in between her mom and dad meeting and his death, but she hadn’t expected that.

“Once?” She asked, and he nodded.

“He wasn’t exactly my biggest fan,” her dad said, smiling wryly, but Elia’s face just fell even more. He saw that and sighed again, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “I think I need to back up a little bit.”

“Maybe,” Elia said, smiling slightly, and her dad chuckled a little bit, shaking his head.

“When I first met your mom, I was a complete asshole,” he said, smiling fondly, and Elia couldn’t help but laugh. “She put me in my place pretty quickly, and then I got to meet you.” He looked at her then with so much love that her eyes started watering again. “But that was just the beginning.”

And so he began to weave the story of Rowan Whitethorn and Aelin Galathynius, and how they’d ended up here. How he’d gotten pulled into her troubles in a little bit of a whirlwind, but once he realized what was going on had done everything possible to help.

How slowly, her mom began to open up to him, and how he began to fall for her, but how he’d fallen for Elia first. Elia had known about her dad’s own past, and the child he’d lost, but it hurt all over again to see the tears in his eyes as he’d mentioned it. No matter how long it’d been, she was sure the wound still ached.

She squeezed his hand back at that part of the story.

She had tears in her own eyes the further along he got, especially when he got to the car wreck that they’d been in together. Elia had no memories of it of course, she’d been so young, but she’d heard the story many times. At least - how her dad’s car seat had saved her life. Not necessarily how they’d gotten into a wreck, that was new.

“The only time I met Arobynn Hamel was at Mistward,” her dad said, and Elia blinked in surprise, recognizing the name of her favorite coffee shop. “You were just a little over a year old at this point,” he continued, his eyes shadowed by decades old fear. “Aelin used to leave you with Emrys, to babysit.” Elia loved Emrys. He was a lot older now, but just as warm as he’d been when she was a kid. “But after that exam, we got back to the cafe to pick you up. We were going to go on vacation, for Yulemas, but we were too late.” A pit formed in her stomach. “Arobynn was there already - holding you.”

Her dad hesitated to say the last part, and she knew why. She couldn’t remember it, but she was sure it’d been traumatic for her parents to walk in and see that. For her mom especially, to see her daughter in the hands that had brutalized her again and again.

“I was so scared,” her dad said quietly, shaking his head, his voice full of emotion. “And angry, that you’d been pulled in as a pawn in his sick games.”

Elia felt nauseous.

“I assume you read it in the article,” her dad continued, “that your mom was forced to go back with him, and take you.” He sighed heavily, and tears pricked her eyes again. “She’s the bravest person I’ve ever known, and I will forever admire her strength, but waking up that morning to you two gone was the worst day of my life.”

“Why did she do it?” Elia whispered. She knew why, but she needed to hear it again. Her dad pressed a quick kiss to her hand.

“Because he was going to take you away, and I think your mom would rather die herself than see that happen,” he said, and Elia nodded, absorbing the information.

A minute passed in companionable silence. Until -

“Fourteen, dad,” she whispered, “she was fourteen.”

“I know,” he replied, and she could hear the utter heartbreak in his voice and see it in his face too. “I know.” And Elia couldn’t stop herself from leaning in to hug him again, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He hugged her back immediately, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Why don’t you talk to her about this?” He asked after he pulled back. “If it’s bothering you.”

“I don’t want to…” she trailed off, feeling shy. Her face was probably red. But he guessed it, smiling slightly.

“Upset her?” He asked, and she nodded, realizing how silly it was. “Sweetheart, your mom went back to a monster to protect you. I think she would actually really appreciate knowing you felt comfortable talking to her about it all.”

“You’re right,” Elia said, nodding and tucking her hair behind her ear. But - “how is she? How does she handle it all?”

Her dad sighed, running a hand through his hair briefly. Sometimes she forgot how young her parents were. All of her friends had parents well into their forties, well into middle age. Her dad was 37, and her mom was only 36.

“She has good days and bad days,” he said honestly, “about what you’d expect.” Elia nodded in agreement. She didn’t think you could get away from that unscathed. Even if she couldn’t even imagine it, nor did she really want to picture it happening to her mom. Her mom, the woman who’d given birth to her at the young age of twenty, who’d raised her as a single mom until Rowan came along, who’d been by her side day by day, year by year.

She didn’t even want to think about it. She just wanted to go upstairs and cuddle with Fleetfoot, the dog her mom had gotten for her over a decade ago. Fleetfoot was getting pretty old, but she was still Elia’s favorite cuddle buddy.

“Thanks for talking to me,” Elia said after a minute, not looking at her dad. She wiped her face and stood up off of the barstool, unable to process the emotions still swirling inside of her. She couldn’t process what was actually bothering her - what her place was in all of this.

“Any time,” her dad said, standing up too and looking at her fondly. “I hope I answered what you were looking for.” Elia nodded vaguely again, turning to face the hallway, like she was going to leave. Until she blurted out -

“You’re my real dad, right?”

There was a pause, slight tension hanging in the room as she fought the turmoil inside of her. The turmoil she felt every time she looked in the mirror and saw herself, saw the mixing of her mom’s and his features. The turmoil she felt as she wondered if she was a constant reminder to her mom of the pain she’d felt. If the horror that she’d been conceived in somehow meant that something about her was fundamentally … wrong.

He still wasn’t answering, so Elia started rambling, desperate to fill in the silence. “Like, I know you are and of course you are, you’ve always been there for me and you love me, but sometimes I look at Eliott, and I look at Emerson and Eden, and Emilia and Emmett and I wonder if I’m too different.” Her vision was blurry as she looked back at her dad, his face tender and sorrowful. “If something in me is broken and still connected to that man. If somehow… I’m not good enough to be part of this family.”

“Hey,” her dad cut her off, stepping forward and resting his hands on her shoulders. “It does not matter whatsoever if you have red hair or silver hair or blonde hair,” he shook his head. “You’re always going to be my daughter.” The words were sincere and her throat became tight with emotion. “The day you first called me dad was one of the best days of my life. This family would not be the same without you,” he insisted. “Not at all, okay?”

Elia sniffed and nodded, feeling the words wash over her. Her dad let the words sit for a moment before leaning in and kissing her forehead once.

“I love you, firefly,” he said, using her old nickname. “Don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to us about this stuff alright? We’re here for you.”

“I know,” she said quietly, “I love you, too.” Silence fell, and she stayed in it for a minute, before saying, “I think I will talk to mom about it,” sniffing and nodding at the words. Her dad smiled softly.

“I’m glad,” he said, before reaching out and ruffling her hair, making her laugh.

Just then, the sounds of the lock in the front door jiggling hit her ears and Elia turned, seeing the door open and her mom walk through.

“I’m very sorry you left your toy,” she was saying to Emmett, who was clutching her leg as she was trying to walk and crying. “But I’ll be back tomorrow and I’ll grab it then. We’re not going back tonight.”

“But mama-” Emmett started whining, and her mom just huffed, maneuvering awkwardly with the weight on her as she turned to shut the door behind them. At two years old, he was still a basket case.

Seven year old Emilia was skipping around them both, giggling about something or other, and the chaotic sight was so familiar it made Elia laugh, even with her puffy eyes.

“Daddy!” Emilia suddenly shouted, racing over to where their dad had moved back to the stovetop, turning it on again. He let out an oof as Emilia collided with the back of his legs, and paused cooking again to bend down and pick her up, setting her on the counter next to him.

After seeing that, Emmett was immediately fine, and followed his older sister’s steps, running and jumping at their dad too. He just chuckled and bent down to pick him up, holding him with one arm as he went back to cooking.

But not before shooting a wink at her.

“Kids,” her mom huffed jokingly, kicking off her shoes in the hallway, taking off her tote bag and hanging it up on the rack where it hung every time she was home. “Hey sweetheart,” she said, when she noticed Elia standing nearby. “How was your day?”

In almost the same exact amount of time as her dad, her mom noticed something was off, and her brows furrowed. Elia just walked up to her, giving her a big hug. Her mom was briefly surprised, but hugged her back, kissing her cheek warmly.

Elia was nearly crying again as she pulled back, especially as her mom tucked a piece of her red hair behind her ear. She breathed in shakily before asking “Can we talk?”

----

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booknerdproblems · 1 year

Note

🥺🥺🥺I love it

Prompt idea!

Rowaelin is already married and Rowan comes home one day to see her crying bc they just got their wedding pics back. Rowan sees them and notices he's like, visibly crying in all of them (puffy red eyes) and assumes aelin is crying bc she's upset the pics are ruined so he's all apologetic etc but she just is crying bc it's such a strong reminder of how much he loves her and she loves the pictures so much.

well now I'M the one crying. here, have a quick lil drabble :D

word count: ~800

warnings: absolutely none

enjoy!!

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

Ever since their wedding seven weeks ago, Rowan and Aelin had grown used to coming home to find each other working on dinner or taking a nap on the couch, since both of them worked exhausting jobs. Rowan worked in product design at a tech company and was forever having meetings with his design team, the engineers, and his company's horrid boss, Maeve, who did her absolute best to claim all the credit for her employees' work. Aelin was a junior lawyer at a large firm, and she was often the one to bear the load of compiling briefs that the senior partners passed down to the younger ones.

Often, Rowan would come home to find his wife stretched out on the couch with a barely-touched glass of wine, her having only been able to take a few sips before sleep claimed her.

Just as often, Aelin came home to find Rowan sprawled facedown on their bed, sometimes even still wearing his shoes.

Soon enough, one would wake the other up with soft kisses and the occasional teasing touch to coax the sleeping one into wakefulness with the promise of dinner. And dessert.

As newlyweds do.

That night, Rowan pushed open the door heavily, the string of foul oaths he needed to direct at Maeve slipping out as soon as the door was locked behind him. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his laptop bag on the low shelf behind the front door, undoing the top few buttons of his dress shirt as he headed for the kitchen. Gods, he needed a drink.

He was halfway through putting the whiskey back in the cabinet, glass in his hand, when he heard Aelin's unmistakable sniffle.

"Fireheart?" His brows creased as he rounded the corner into the living room, immediately concerned. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Aelin murmured, her gaze directed down into her lap.

Rowan glanced down to see her iPad in her lap, their wedding portraits up on the screen. "We got our portraits back?"

"Yeah." She glanced up, flashing him a soft, bright smile. "We have our wedding photos, Ro."

"Let me see?"

She patted the cushion at her side. "Sit down, love."

He settled in next to her, placing his drink on the side table and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his side, propping up the iPad and swiping slowly through the images.

Aelin couldn't keep her tears at bay as she swiped through the photos--gods, she still cried thinking of how perfect and beautiful and wonderful and perfect the day had been. Every little thing from the gorgeously decorated venue to her dream dress to the man standing at the end of the aisle had been complete perfection, and she couldn't keep from being emotional when she woke up every day to the remembrance that Rowan was her forever.

As if her thoughts summoned his touch, his thumb brushed against her cheek, wiping away the stray tears. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she sniffled. "Just...gods, Ro, look at us."

He gazed down at the portrait on the screen, the two of them half-facing each other, eyes locked, Aelin beaming up at him with one hand on his chest. The emerald wedding ring on her hand sparkled in the light, almost but not quite matching the brilliance of her smile. He beamed back down at her, arms looped around her waist, the joy on his face only enhanced by the slight redness around his eyes.

Wait.

Shit.

That was probably why she was crying.

"Gods, Fireheart, I'm so sorry," Rowan groaned, wishing he could just slap himself.

It was her turn to throw a quizzical look. "What? Why?"

He pointed to his swollen eyes. "Hell, I ruined all our wedding portraits with my stupid emotions and gods, I feel so bad for not having had more self-control and--"

"Rowan." Aelin placed her fingertips over his lips, stopping his rambling apology. "Buzzard, you didn't ruin anything."

"But I'm crying in our wedding photos?"

She chuckled softly. "Ro, my love, I promise you didn't ruin anything." She slid her free hand into his, tracing the lines of his tattoo on his skin. "I promise."

He didn't look entirely convinced. "We're going to display these photos forever, Fireheart..."

"And your emotions only make it all the more evident how much you love me."

Well, that little statement momentarily stopped him in his tracks.

"Aelin," he whispered, throat tightening. "Really?"

Setting aside the iPad, she cupped her hands around his face, smiling softly. "Yes really, my buzzard. I love you so much."

"I love you more, my Fireheart." Gods, but he was crying--again--as he kissed her.

She grinned against his lips. "You're an old sap, love."

He wouldn't even dream of denying it.

~~~

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booknerdproblems · 1 year

Text

Ahfhsjja I’m in pain

blood-soaked gown

*clears throat nervously* Welcome to the You're On Your Own, Kid oneshots collection! Starting off with a bang...oops? (@house-of-galathynius it's angst monster playtime)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: language, Arobynn, business talk, drunkenness, violence, blood, miscarriage, angst

enjoy (?)

I looked around in a blood-soaked gown

And I saw something they can't take away

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

"Remind me why exactly we're here again?" Aelin Whitethorn Galathynius whispered into her husband's ear, slipping him a covert little wink.

Rowan's lips twitched with the effort of keeping his polite expression in place. "The usual--workplace expectation, family expectation, you know the drill."

"Ah, the perils of being born into a disgustingly rich family," Aelin murmured, squeezing his arm. "First chance I get, though..."

"I'll be right beside you," her husband promised. "Gods, I might hate these damn parties worse than you."

She chuckled. "That's because you weren't brought up to schmooze, Ro."

"Poor me," he whispered, his voice dropping low. "Having to sip drinks and serve as arm candy for my gorgeous wife all night long."

"You've got a few more uses than that," she teased, winking.

His smirk set fire to the embers pooled low in her belly. "Allow me to show you just that, my love."

"After the dinner, buzzard," she reminded him, giggling softly at his frustrated grumble.

"Fine," he conceded. "But if this thing drags on...we're leaving."

Aelin grinned. "I'll make my excuses." Smoothing one hand down the fine, lustrous silk of her formal gown, the deep pine hue perfectly paired with her husband's eyes, she redirected Rowan over towards the beckoning circle of her parents and a few of their business associates.

"Aelin!" Evalin exclaimed warmly, welcoming her daughter into the cluster of elegantly dressed, fabulously rich business aficionados. "You look stunning, my dear."

"Thank you," Aelin smiled, painting a charming smile across her face despite the faint nausea lingering in the back of her throat and pit of her stomach.

Probably because Arobynn Hamel was there.

A longtime business associate of her parents', Arobynn had long been known to have near-infinite wealth and almost as much affinity for eyeing young women. Aelin had first been introduced to the red-haired man at a gala she'd attended with her parents when she was fifteen. She'd immediately internally recoiled from his oily leer and the way his hand lingered on hers a little too long. And each time she came to a business function, she grew a little more disgusted by the man.

But his apparently endless wealth was well tied into Ashryver-Galathynius Realty, so she gave Arobynn Hamel the same cool, professionally detached treatment she gave to every other business partner and client with whom she met.

"Congratulations, Ms. Galathynius," Arobynn purred, tipping his whiskey glass at her. Aelin's blood froze solid for a moment, until he continued. "Closing that deal with the Cortlands is a remarkable achievement."

Right. The Cortland deal. Aelin inclined her head, smiling modestly. "Well, after enough time, even the Cortlands realized how much of an asset to their business it would be to partner with us."

The Cortlands were an old-money family who'd long been established in the banking business, and they had been Aelin's clients for several months as they looked into purchasing a new property in the sleek new business district in South Orynth. The only catch? They had been trying their very best to swindle one of the company's associates into buying the property for a ridiculously low price, until Aelin stepped in and told Sam Cortland in very few words where he and his dynasty could shove their offer.

Nearly seven months after the Cortlands had approached AG Realty, Aelin had closed a deal on the property, shaking hands with Sam and restraining her triumphant smirk to a pleased smile. That had been a mere week or so ago, so of course the firm and its associates would be hearing about it.

"I'm sure the Cortlands will be a wonderful asset," she added, flicking a knowing glance at her parents.

Rhoe grinned. "My fearsome daughter."

She chuckled. "Hardly, Dad. People are just scared of a woman who knows what she's talking about."

"Quite the threat indeed," Arobynn offered, his gaze a few shades more than could be considered polite.

Aelin restrained herself from stepping on his foot with her stiletto heel as she made her excuses, noticing Elide beckoning her from a short distance away. "Thank you," she murmured to her friend, giving the petite brunette a quick hug.

"Anything to save you from that creep," Elide returned, flicking the blonde a knowing glance. "Having fun, Whitethorn?"

"Shut up," Rowan mumbled, taking a larger-than-necessary swallow of his drink.

Aelin chuckled, sliding her hand back around her husband's arm. "He always has the time of his life at these lovely little parties." She pecked a kiss onto his cheek. "Love, will you get me a drink?"

Thankful to have something to do besides pretend he could tolerate anybody except his wife and the few friends in the room, Rowan strolled over to the bar, pouring Aelin a glass of sparkling cider. Why she preferred to drink something nonalcoholic at these functions, he didn't entirely know.

Though he suspected it may have something to do with how tense she always was around Arobynn Hamel and his disgusting roving eye.

"Here you are, love."

"Thank you." She stole a quick kiss, making Elide flutter her lashes and coo.

"Aww, look at the lovebirds!"

"Quiet," Aelin laughed, "you and that hulking brute of yours are just as bad."

Elide snickered. "It's not my fault Lorcan's a big old softie."

"Bet that's not what you call him in bed," Aelin smirked.

Her friend's face went scarlet. "Aelin!" she whisper-shrieked, smacking the blonde's shoulder. "No!"

"Girls' night never lies," Aelin crooned.

"And what happens at girls' night stays at girls' night," Elide retorted.

"All right, all right." Aelin raised her drink in concession. "I won't say anything else about you and Salvaterre being all sappy." Out of the corner of her eye, she caught yet another senior business partner motioning to her, and sighed. "Once more unto the breach."

"Do you--"

She shook her head, squeezing Rowan's hand. "It's just Darrow and a few of his associates, you can stay here and keep Elide and Lorcan company."

"Thank the gods," Rowan mumbled.

She just chuckled, kissed his cheek, and strolled over to meet Darrow and the few men with him, greeting the man who'd been her business advisor for many years affectionately. "So you need some young ears, hmm?"

"I'm not a fossil yet," Darrow fake-sighed, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he smiled at her. "We just wanted to congratulate you on the Cortland deal."

"Ah, don't make such a fuss about it," she smiled.

The older gentleman shook his head wryly. "Always downplaying your achievements, young one." He patted her shoulder. "Mrs. Whitethorn Galathynius here managed to rope the Cortlands themselves into a deal with AG Realty, can you believe it?"

"Impressive." Dorian Havilliard's dark brows shot up. "And you managed to do this in under two years?"

Aelin laughed quietly. She and the younger Havilliard--a brilliant civil defense attorney--had been friends since they were young. "Seven months, give or take a few days."

Dorian whistled. "Congratulations, then!" He raised his glass to her. "I argued a case for old Cortland several years ago, and let me tell you, the amount of demands that man had almost drove my partners insane."

"Oh, stop flattering me," she laughed, but raised her glass anyway. "Thank you, Dorian."

He winked. "Anything for the future of Orynth's commercial real estate."

She chatted with Dorian, Darrow, and a couple of others for a short while before Evalin came and stole her away to speak with the senior associates of AG Realty. Aelin caught Rowan's eye as she walked with her mother.

Need me? his raised eyebrow asked.

I'll be fine, she returned. Keep Lorcan from drinking too much, yeah?

Will do, Fireheart.

So Aelin sipped on her sparkling cider and chatted with the senior associates and her parents, discussing a few upcoming clients and whether or not they should accept some of the offers that poured in daily. Most notably, Arobynn Hamel was considering buying yet another property in the industrial district.

What that man wanted with so many warehouses, Aelin couldn't even begin to imagine.

"I don't see any reason why we shouldn't move forward with that deal," Rhoe mused. "He's always been a credible buyer, never misses payments or defaults on anything."

"What about the..." Evalin lowered her voice, keeping their conversation private. "What about that article?"

Two weeks ago, the Orynth Journal, which was admittedly a tabloid at best, had published an article that almost instantly went viral. In it, they claimed to have evidence linking Arobynn Hamel and his holdings in the industrial district to an international drug trafficking ring. Of course, since it was tabloid journalism, the reliability of this "evidence" had to be questioned, but still--was there any truth to it?

When privately questioned, Arobynn had--of course--denied all of it, maintaining his sleek professional exterior and, apparently, putting AG Realty enough at ease that they decided to dismiss the rumors as the workings of the tabloids. Aelin still had her suspicions, given that the man was a certified creep, but she deferred to her parents' judgment. She wouldn't raise too many questions, not unless some new information that cast true suspicion onto Arobynn came into light.

"We agreed that was all tabloid nonsense," Darrow reminded Evalin, though there was a hint of concern buried in his keen gaze.

"I know," Evalin sighed. "Very well, then. We can negotiate the deal with him when--"

"FUCK OFF!" The slurred yell completely shattered the elegant mood of the evening.

Horrified, everyone whirled around, finding Arobynn Hamel with a half-empty bottle of Scotch clutched in his hand, a glazed sheen of obvious drunkenness in his eyes and a sneer on his face.

His yell had been directed at Dorian, who held up his hands in a placating gesture. "No, Mr. Hamel, you misunderstand! I am not--I would never accuse you of anything illicit without proof!"

"Fuckin' lyin' lawyers," Arobynn growled, anger flaring in his posture.

Slowly, Dorian backed away from Arobynn, careful not to say anything lest he set off the drunk man's rage. Just as slowly, a few others approached Arobynn, gingerly offering to make him another drink, to get him some water, anything to defuse the situation.

"Don't fucking offer me water, you cock!" Arobynn snarled, whirling sharply about to rage at Darrow, who'd made that offer.

CRASH!

In his clumsy turnaround, Arobynn smashed the bottle of Scotch against the bar top, littering shards of broken glass atop the bar and leaving him with a broken bottle top clutched in his hand.

"Mr. Hamel--"

As if realizing he now held a weapon, Arobynn brandished the broken bottle at Darrow, all semblance of sanity drained out of his wild eyes. "Fuck off, Darrow."

"Arobynn." Aelin broke into the tense standoff, matching the drunk man's crazed look with her steel will. "Put down the bottle, gods dammit!"

"Don't tell me what to do, bitch," Arobynn snarled.

Aelin's glare intensified. "You want your new warehouse, don't you?"

A brief, charged moment of silence.

"Bitch," Arobynn hissed, but he released the bottle.

CRASH. It shattered all over the floor, shards splintering up into the air and clinking in discordant symphony against the polished marble flooring.

Aelin winced as something bumped into her stomach--probably just a stray elbow as everyone around Arobynn collectively rushed backwards, out of range of the glass. Behind her back, she gave the prearranged signal to her parents, clasping her fingers together.

Call security.

The building's security personnel were in the room only minutes later, swiftly and efficiently subduing Arobynn and escorting him out, most likely to spend a night in the loving embrace of the Orynth Police Department.

"Everyone all right?" Aelin asked, brushing her hands against her gown, feeling the oddest sticky-wet sensation. Huh. Probably liquor from the mess.

Nods and murmurs of "yes, I'm okay," rippled through the guests.

Until Dorian gasped sharply, his sapphire gaze trained on Aelin's stomach. "Fuck!"

"What?" She glanced down at her gown, wondering what the hell had gotten into her friend.

And gasping, the color draining from her face.

Apparently, it hadn't been an elbow bumping into her, but a stray shard of broken glass.

Her breath breaking, shuddering, Aelin touched her fingertips to the warmth spreading over her stomach and pulled them away slowly, almost unable to believe the dripping crimson stain. Blood, some faraway part of her brain realized. My blood.

And as her legs quavered and failed beneath her, Aelin Whitethorn Galathynius could only form one thought. Her eyes shot across the room to a lock onto the pine green gaze latched onto her, her heart constricting at the sheer depth of shock and pain etched into her husband's eyes.

“Rowan…”

The only thing she could think, the only thing keeping her rooted to the ground as she splayed one hand over her stomach, over the thick dark pool of blood welling there, the scarlet stain seeping into the fine silk of her evening gown.

“Rowan….I’m pregnant.”

And then everything went black.

Aelin blinked awake slowly, like she was rising up from a bath of molasses, her head fuzzy and disoriented. Slowly, the room around her came into focus--an IV coiling out of her arm, the steady beep of machines tracking her heart rate and pulse and oxygen level, the slightly uncomfortable bed, the cotton fabric against her skin, the firm warm pressure of Rowan's hand in hers.

She was in the hospital.

"Rowan," she croaked, her voice a bare rasp, turning her head to meet his broken gaze. "Ro..."

"You're going to be okay, Fireheart," he rasped, not bothering to try and mask the tears choking his face, his voice.

Ignoring the agony that sliced through her whole self, she gripped his hand and swung herself out of the bed, suddenly desperate, flattening her other hand atop her stomach. "Our baby, Rowan," she gasped.

Her husband's veneer of calmness cracked, splitting down the seams, and his shoulders heaved with a choked sob. "They--Aelin, they said you--miscarried." He could barely get the last words out.

"No." She shook her head, dropped his hand, wrapped her arms around her middle reactively, protectively. Her whole body screaming with the effort, with the pain, she took one searing step after another until she reached the mirror over the sink and stared into her pale, shell-shocked reflection.

Familiar heat bloomed at her stomach, her disoriented stumbling having torn her stitches, letting the deathly rose of her blood bloom across her abdomen. The blood seeped through the bandages, through the thin cotton hospital gown, soaking her hands with the heat of her own life.

Words failing her, Aelin stared at herself in the mirror, captivated and horrified by the broken, bleeding woman who stared back, a chasm of unspeakable pain yawning in her eyes.

And as the nurses who'd come rushing when Rowan pressed the call button caught her, murmuring soothing words into her ear, and injected something that slowed her pulse to drugged sleep into her IV drip, Aelin tilted her head back and released a scream that clawed up and out of her throat from the shattered coffin of her womb.

They can't take my child. The last thing she remembered thinking before the pull of the sedative claimed her.

They will never take my child.

~~~

A/N: if you thought bit at the end resembled Rhaenyra in HOTD no it didn't ;))

~~~

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