#((evalin loves this cat i must say))

[rowanaelinn]

Illicit Affairs - Chapter One

Warning: Mention of death | Word count: 4k

I will try to update this as quickly as I can! But I can’t promise a weekly update :(

The warm weather of Doranelle allowed Aelin to enjoy her night without needing more than her thin sundress. Or maybe it was the alcohol, she didn’t know. She hadn’t drunk that much if she was being honest, not enough to be really drunk but enough to call this a celebration. “This” was just her, sitting in her backyard as she drank. Today she tried to prove that “the more the merrier” wasn’t always true.

She snorted, who was she kidding? Certainly not herself, but her tough act was good enough for her parents to believe it. That was good. She didn’t need to convince anyone else.

Aelin sighed as she let her upper body fall on the freshly cut grass, looking at the stars. She must look tragic from the outside, she thought. Maybe if any of her neighbors saw her from their window, they’d invent a nice story as to why twenty-year-old Aelin Galathynius was laying down in the grass when she wore a white dress with a bottle of beer she couldn’t legally drink in her hand.

Anything they made up in their mind must be better than the reality. Maybe she broke up with her boyfriend. We haven’t seen him visit ever since spring break started, she imagined the old lady who lived in the house on the left of Aelin’s say to one of her numerous cats. She didn’t know why men were always the first thing people thought of when they saw a heartbroken woman. Aelin liked to think she wasn’t so cliché, but Chaol hadn’tvisited in the entire week. She was to blame for it, she was the one who rejected any kind of affection lately.

She wanted affection, she wanted someone to take her in their arms and tell her that everything would be fine. She didn’t know why but what her mind wanted and what it let other people do was different. She was sure that aching for love but being repulsed by it at the same time wasn’t normal, but she lived by the principle that ignorance was bliss. If she pretended that something did not exist, then it didn’t.

It was fairly easy, and had worked for her for a while. Though she knew at one point it’d stop working. She knew that one day, everything she had ignored would come back and hit her in the face. But she ignored that, too.

She didn’t bother raising up as she brought the bottle to her lips, spilling the sticky liquid on her face. Aelin laughed, the ridiculousness of the situation too hilarious for her to care about laughing alone.

“Well,” a deep voice interrupted her thoughts, “That’s classy.”

Aelin raised her torso and turned around too quickly for her head to follow, her vision slightly blurred. She found a man standing behind her, not close enough for her to have heard him coming but close enough that he saw everything that had just happened.

She studied him, the way one of his hands was tucked into his black pants, his white shirt shining with the moon’s dim light. Even from where she sat, she could see how beautiful his face was. His sharp jawline and cheekbones were, but it wasn’t what struck her the most. No, it was either his deep green eyes or his hair so light they could be silver. Maybe Aelin was drooling, but when he looked down at her with an eyebrow raised, she gained back her composure swiftly.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m not drunk.”

“Hello Not Drunk, I’m Rowan.”

Did he just? Aelin barked a laugh, holding her hand in front of her mouth to keep it together. “That is the worst joke I’ve ever heard.”

“Is it, really?”

“Yes.”

He smiled, “Why are you laughing then?”

“Because it’s hilariously bad!” She managed to stop laughing but her lips were still spread in a smile, “Seriously, man. Don’t ever do that again.”

“Ah,” he said. “I can’t promise that. Not after the laugh it earned.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, shaking her head. He had told her his name, so she guessed she could do the same. “I’m Aelin.”

“Let me guess, you’re Evalin and Rhoe’s daughter.”

Aelin acted surprised, putting a hand on her chest, “How did you know? What betrayed my secret? Was it my eyes or the hundreds of pictures of me inside that house?”

“It was the attitude, you have quite a reputation.” Aelin laughed at that, it was true.

“And let me guess, you’re one of the numerous guests my parents are hosting tonight?”

He winked at her, “Now you know my secret, too. We’re even, Aelin.”

He was from Doranelle, she could say so just by the way he said her name, with the way his accent sent shivers down her spine. Aelin wasn’t native from here, her parents and she had moved from Terrasen a few years back. “I guess we are.”

“Can I sit here?” He nodded to the place right next to her.

“I don’t think your pants think it’s a good idea.”

“They agree probably more than your dress.”

Aelin bit the inside of her lip as he nodded, wrapping her arms around her knees when Rowan sat beside her. He was so big, but Aelin didn’t feel suffocated by his presence. From here, Aelin could see him better. He was older than her, that much was sure. If he was here today it meant he worked with her parents, and everyone knew that doctors, and even more surgeons, started working late. “Are you a resident?”

He nodded, sipping from his own bottle of beer. “I still have two more years to go.”

Aelin whistled in admiration as she did the maths in her head. He had to be around thirty, give or take. “Speciality?”

“Neuro.”

“So you’re one of the pretentious ones,” Aelin chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. When he looked at her, she explained, “My father said to beware of the Neuro and the Cardio. Apparently, you guys have a head too big to even enter the operating room.”

Rowan barked a laugh, “Your father realizes he is the chief of Neuro, right?”

Aelin nodded and smiled, “That’s why he knows it. Rhoe Galathynius’ ego is bigger than most of the buildings in this town.”

“What about you?” He asked. “You’re what, nineteen?”

“Twenty today.” Aelin said, but her voice had lost some of her strength. Everything was okay and good as long as she didn’t start crying.

“It’s your birthday?” He seemed surprised, and Aelin only nodded as she threw him a small smile. “Then what are we doing here? Shouldn’t you be busy destroying this house with your friends?”

Aelin snorted, remembering how she had stayed over to college the year before and how drunk she had been. Actually, it was her first birthday with her parents since the incident, she had always found ways to distract herself. But maybe it  was her growing up or just her being sick of always doing the same thing, but she decided to spend her birthday with her parents. “My birthday is not something we celebrate in this family.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

He got the hint because he changed the subject, “I imagine you’re in college, what do you study?”

“I’m a biology major.”

“Let me guess,” Aelin internally smirked. They had met minutes ago but they kept making guesses at each other, even if every time it was far too easy. “After that, you’re going to med school.”

“Bullseye.”

“Surgeon?”

“As it is written in my genes.” She mumbled, her eyes fixed to the trees in front of her.

“What was that face?”

“What face?” She frowned, finding back her teasing smile.

“That face you just made.”

“I don’t have a face.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprise all over his face. “You don’t have a face?”

“Nope.” She shook her head, her  Why? Do you see a face?”

He made a show of thinking, humming noises coming out of him. “Pretty sure I do, yeah.”

Aelin’s breath quickened as her hands touched all over her face, “Oh, gods, doctor you have to help me, I didn’t have a face this morning. Is this serious? Could I die from it?”

He looked at her and thought, his intense gaze burning her skin. “I think you need further examinations. Come see me tomorrow at noon, and maybe I’ll find what is happening to you.”

Aelin flushed at this. Maybe she was acting like a schoolgirl, but she didn’t know if he was serious about wanting to see her tomorrow. Not that it’d matter.

“Thank you, doctor! You’re saving my life,” she made doe-eyes at him, the ones she had practiced on every man she had ever met. “What can I do to repay you?”

It was over for him then, he couldn’t contain his laugh anymore. “You have the audacity to complain about my jokes just for your humor to be worse than mine.”

“How dare you!” She slapped his arm, but it was hard to keep her own laugh inside. It was relaxing to laugh and not care about anything else. Just her, this almost stranger and awful jokes.

“How about you tell me why you seemed like the least happy person in the world when you talked about you as a surgeon?”

Aelin sighed, she never told anyone that. She didn’t even let anything think it wasn’t her biggest dream to become a surgeon, but strangely she wanted to tell this man everything. So, Aelin did. “You don’t really say no to the people who pay for your education. Or for everything else.”

Rowan frowned, “Your parents force you to become a surgeon?”

“Well, in some sort of way. Yes.”

He seemed even more confused, “What do you mean by “in some sort of way”? Did they tell you it was either become one of us or being disowned?”

Aelin shook her head, “It’s complicated.”

“I’m sure I can follow.”

His smile was encouraging as if he was pushing her to speak for her sake and not just for his curiosity. Something in his eyes said I’m just a stranger, what I think doesn’t matter. Just speak, it helps.

So, Aelin opened her phone and went to her photos app, the photos she wanted to show weren’t hard to find as they were the only ones she added to her favorites.

She was sure her smile turned watery as she clicked on one of them, her heart aching. Silently, she gave her phone to Rowan who threw a look at the picture. She anxiously waited, her hands were moist as she kept fidgeting her fingers. She was sure that by the end of the night, her lip would be bloody. “You are a sister.”

“A twin,” Aelin explained.

“Gods,” he breathed, “You two look exactly the same.”

Aelin smiled, it was true. She still remembered how many times they had switched names and pretended to be the other. “What’s her name?” Rowan asked, giving back her phone to Aelin.

“Celaena,” she smiled, holding back the tears in her eyes. She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t. Not after she had been so strong the entire day.

“Isn’t it her birthday too, then? Where is she?”

“Well, you see. I’m almost six feet while she’s six feet under,” Aelin said, taking a sip of her beer. When Rowan’s face decomposed, she registered what she just said and then… And then she burst out laughing. The worst was that it wasn’t even funny. She slapped a hand on her mouth, “I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t stop laughing, though. Not as Rowan looked confused and frowned, “That was a joke?”

Aelin nodded, “Yes. But no.”

“Yes but no?”

She took a deep breath, “Celaena is six feet under, but I just never said it out loud before? And I don’t know why it made me laugh that a joke about my height was the first thing that came into my mind.”

Had she drunk more than she thought? Or maybe it was the heat, she didn’t know. Gods, couldn’t have she just said “oh yeah, she’s dead”?

“It’s okay,” Rowan said. She was relieved he didn’t call her a weirdo or something along those lines. “Everyone deals with grief differently. Some do it by crying, you apparently hoped for the shitty humor.”

Aelin’s mouth was wide open, “I just told you I lost my sister! You can’t be mean to me!”

“Can’t I?” He snickered, and Aelin only rolled her eyes. “When did it happen?”

“When we were fifteen,” Aelin explained, not really wanting to get into more details. It was already a miracle she had said as much. She hadn’t spoken Celaena’s name in years.

“Do you miss her?”

Aelin nodded, hugging her knees once more. “Very much.”

“I feel like you wouldn’t like it if I say I’m sorry.”

“You’re right,” Aelin breathed. “People always say that, as if their words would make it less painful. Them being sorry doesn’t mean my sister will come back to life. They aren’t even sorry most of the time, they just want something to say because otherwise, they’ll look like assholes. I’m not the one people should apologize to, she is the one who didn’t get to live.”

“I never saw things this way,” Rowan said. “But I think in some sense you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” she teased him. “Anyway. Celaena she… Gods, I don’t think I’m dumb, but Celaena was ten times smarter than me. She’s always been into science and all. I’m not talking about being good at it, she was passionate about it. She wanted to be a surgeon like my parents, they always took her to the hospital with them. I tagged along but it was never my thing, you know?”

Rowan nodded, and Aelin found out that talking was pretty liberating. No matter that it wouldn’t change a thing. “When she died it was so quiet at home, my mother stopped talking for months. I was so angry and dad… Dad looked dead. One day in a conversation he asked me what I wanted to do in my future and I don’t know why I said maybe a surgeon. Then my mother talked. She broke a four-month-long silence to tell me it was an amazing idea.”

“Let me guess,” he said, tearing a smile out of Aelin. “You feel like if you change your mind then your parents won’t be happy.”

“Bingo.”

“You can’t live for them, Aelin. You need to work on your life to make yourself happy. Your parents lost a child and it’s immensely sad, but you can’t just live for them? You can’t give them the illusion that she’s still here.”

Give them the illusion that she’s still here. Aelin hadn’t realized it was what she was doing. She guessed it was true, though.

“I’m ready to bet that you won’t listen to me.”

Aelin’s closed around the back of her neck, her nails scratching her skin. “I can’t.”

He smiled, nudging her shoulder. “You’ll see one day or another. You need to be yourself, not Celaena.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just smiled. “It’s crazy.”

“What’s crazy, princess?”

Princess. Fuck, she didn’t like how her stomach twisted at this word.

“I barely know you but I told you more about me than to anyone else.”

Rowan chuckled, “Sometimes, there are people with you you’ll feel a connection. It feels good when it happens.”

“It never happened to me before,” she admitted.

And in a moment of vulnerability, he said, “Me neither.”

“Tell me something about yourself,” she whispered, her head resting on her knees as she looked at him.

He took a deep breath and Aelin almost chuckled, wanting to ask him how he felt now that he was the one to speak and not to listen. But then, he opened his mouth. “My parents died in a car crash when I was ten. I was in the car.”

Oh, gods. Aelin covered her mouth with a hand and nodded to tell him to keep going.

“I never told anyone that, but I wasn’t unconscious. I should have been but I think the shock kept me awake. My father was on the ground bleeding. I just stood there, watching him bleed out. I couldn’t move, no matter how much my brain screamed to my muscles to move, to just do something. Anything. I didn’t.”

That must have been traumatic, especially for someone so young. She suddenly realized how easy the words “I’m sorry” came into mind when someone told you how broken they were.

“His brain was bleeding, he died on his way to the hospital. I know I couldn’t have done anything, I know that. But I still want to be a neurosurgeon because I want to be able to save someone’s dad.”

“I’m sure he’s proud of you.”

Rowan smiled weakly, the tears in his eyes mirroring her own. “They are proud of us.”

Aelin wanted to deny it, wanted to say that Celaena would have never played a role just to please their parents and that she was stronger than that, but she didn’t. It was so much easier to live when she imagined her sister smiling at her.

Aelin held her drink to Rowan, “To dead people.”

He chuckled, “To the impact they still have on us.”

Their bottles clicked together and they drank, Aelin finishing her last bottle of the night. She didn’t want to drink more, not when so many of her parents’ co-workers were in her house. “We should head back,” Rowan said.

Indeed, it was quite late. She hadn’t noticed how much they talked. “Fine.”

He stood first, and Aelin found out he was a gentleman as he held out his hand to get her up. She shivered as his strong hand closed around hers and she yelped as his strength brought her on her feet but much closer to him than she thought she’d be.

He was taller than her by five inches, but it didn’t prevent their breath from mingling. His eyes were deep enough Aelin felt like she could drown in them, and as they lowered to her lips, Aelin’s heart almost burst out of her chest. One of his hands clasped around her waist, pushing her just a little closer to him.

Slowly, her hand trailed up his arms, coming to rest on his neck.  it was her time to look at his lips, she was hit with the urge to trace them with the tip of her thumb. And because it was her birthday, because she could, Aelin did. His breath hit her skin and her eyes almost fluttered closed. “Tell me no,” he whispered. “Stop me.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” she breathed, and it was true. This man had understood her more than anyone else in her life, she wanted to know everything about him so how about how his lips tasted?

“Fuck, Aelin,” he groaned but in a softness that didn’t match his voice, he slowly lowered his head until their lips brushed, Aelin’s finger pushed away. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Why don’t you do it, then?”

“I will.”

“I’m waiting,” Aelin chuckled to his lips. And as he went to kiss her, as Aelin’s body was preparing itself for the feeling, her phone rang, breaking the magic. “Fuck,” she swore, bending to get her phone back from here it was on the grass.

Chaol.

Shit, shit, shit. Did it make her a bad girlfriend if she said she forgot about him? It probably did, she’d just ignore that. “I need to take that, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, then cleared his throat. “I should go inside.”

Aelin was torn between throwing her phone away and kissing the hell out of this man or being a decent human being. Her morals won this time. “Yeah, I agree.”

He hesitated, looking back and forth between her and the door but then awkwardly waved, “See you.”

Chaol wanted to check on her and she was hit by a wave of guilt at the sweetness of the act. She couldn’t help but hate how he treated her as if she was two steps away from breaking, as if she was fragile and needed protection.

In a moment of light, Aelin had the good sense to go change herself in her room. She didn’t want to embarrass herself with grass all over her dress in front of dozens of old people. And Rowan. Maybe she chose her black dress with a low neckline (not lot low enough to be indecent) with him in mind. It was harmless, it was what she told herself.

She snatched a glass of wine from the table after she walked down the stairs. She looked out of place, barely twenty in a room where the youngest people were ten years older than her. But she was used to it, had grown up this way. Her parents always threw a dinner party on her birthday, not to celebrate her or even their other daughter, no, they wanted a distraction.

“Fireheart!” Her mother called. Aelin turned around to find her mother talking with her father, a sweet beautiful woman and… Rowan. The woman’s arm was locked with Rowan’s and they were both too close to be friends. Aelin’s heart was beating fast and loud as she let her mom take her hand and include her in the conversation.

“This is my precious daughter, Aelin. Aelin, this is your father’s favorite resident, not that he’ll admit it, Rowan Whitethorn with his wife Lyria.”

“Hello,” Lyria, the woman on Rowan’s side, welcomed her warmly.

Wife.

Rowan was married. How the hell had she missed that. Did he not think it was important enough to mention it during their conversation? Her eyes went for his left hand and her heart nearly stopped. There was a ring, but Aelin hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t paid attention to the jewel in the darkness.

“Are you alright, darling?” Her father asked, and Aelin realized she must have been stoic for a few moments. She shook her head and smiled brightly.

“Always, dad. I’m sorry, I’m exhausted,” she looked at Rowan and Lyria. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” she smiled warmly. She was going to say something, Aelin knew it but she couldn’t hear it. Wouldn’t hear it.

She turned to her mother, “I’m sorry for interrupting, but I wanted to ask if Chaol could come here and spend the night?”

Her father frowned but Evalin just smiled. It was a difficult night for the three of them, so her mother probably just assumed Aelin needed the comfort. In reality, she needed a distraction. “No problem, Fireheart. You know we love Chaol.” But as the hostess she was, her mother didn’t leave people in the dark, “Aelin and her boyfriend are high-school sweethearts. They followed each other to college but still are inseparable. You know how young love is.”

That was wrong. Inseparable was the opposite of what she and Chaol were, but she didn’t call her mother out on her lie. Rowan slightly frowned at the mention of her boyfriend but she ignored it. He was married, he had no right to have a reaction. Lyria beamed, “That’s so sweet. I married my high-school boyfriend, I wish you the same.”

Aelin politely smiled, “Thank you. I hope you’re having a great evening.” Then she left.

She’d probably be called out by her parents for her improperness tomorrow but she didn’t care. She didn’t know why it affected her so much. she had met him an hour ago, but she had left so much in this hour. So much more than she had in years.

Of course, the only man that made her heart swell had to be married. Married to someone that could only be described as Aelin’s opposite. She was so, so, screwed.

••••••

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @themoonthestarsthesuriel // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @hellasblessed // @danibutterr // @endlessdaydream // @thegreyj // @gracie-rosee // @acreativelydifferentlove // @cretaceous-therapod // @louphantomdragon // @miss-lil-red // @backtobl4ck // @whoever-you-choose-to-love // @lemonade-coolattas // @mad-madeline-ace // @the-introverted-reader

#throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowan and aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #aelin galathynius #celaena sardothien #Illicit Affairs

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 23

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Sorry if there are mistakes in this. It’s 7k words long (as opposed to my usual 2-3k). We’re maybe kinda getting somewhere? Anyway. I have enjoyed hearing your responses so much, especially as we come up on the end of this thing. Have I mentioned how much I adore you all? All angst to be blamed on Miss Taylor Alison Swift, and not me in the slightest, okay? xo.

Aelin is so completely exhausted. All she wants to do is sleep but it seems her body’s forgotten how. It’s as if every time her eyes are about to close, her brain startles her awake, making her heart race with adrenaline, anxiety spiking and coursing through her body. This must be some sort of sick punishment, she thinks. Around 5 am, she gives up trying to get any rest and gets out of bed. She may as well have a productive morning if she can’t get any sleep. She throws on her sneakers and plays an exercise video on her television, her feet stepping in time with the hip-hop cardio she used to do every morning at home. The familiar moves relax her, raising her heartbeat so she can’t feel the difference between her endorphins and her prickles of anxiety. Aelin is surprised to realize it feels… good. She smiles when realizes she’s found the magic cure for her restless mind today. Exercise. She doesn’t plan on stopping moving until her body gives out. By the time her parents wake, Aelin has finished two exercise videos, gone for a swim, and walked Fleetfoot. She makes a hearty breakfast of fried eggs, bacon and fruit salad. And is skipping toward the coffee machine for her third cup of coffee when Aedion, Lysandra, Evie and Gavin stride in for the day.

Aelin pauses, realizing her extended family’s appearance means she’ll have to go to the park shortly. The park where Rowan is. Her mind flashes back to their farewell embrace, less than twelve hours ago. She wonders what it’ll be like to see him again. Will he avoid her? Will he say hello? Will he pretend like nothing ever happened between them?

Nope. Aelin isn’t ready to think about that. Instead, she hops from foot to foot around the kitchen, skipping through patches of light like a cat, looking for the best sunshine to curl up under. However, Aelin has no intention of sitting and napping any time soon. She skips all the way to the coffee maker, refills her giant mug and hops back, careful not to let the hot liquid slosh over the side. She must look ridiculous, a constant flurry of movement, but she can’t stop. If she stops, she’ll have time to think. And she can’t do that.

Aelin knows her family thinks she’s gone crazy — she doesn’t care.

“Visual noise,” Aedion complains from behind his coffee mug, waving at Aelin’s ridiculously moving body, but Aelin ignores him, continuing to dance around the kitchen, humming to herself as she sips.

“Did you not get enough sleep, sweetie?” Evalin asks her son, and Aedion laughs.

“I have two kids under the age of ten.” He pauses with a wry smile as a well-timed squeal peels through the kitchen as Gavin chases Fleetfoot out to the back patio. “I never sleep.”

“If that’s true, then why does Lysandra never complain about it?” Aelin asks, and her brother casually flicks her off.

“Because Lys sleeps like the dead.”

Lysandra appears in the doorway, fresh faced, her pink lips curling into a grin as she laughs at her tired husband. “It’s not my fault that a pin dropping would wake you up.”

She pushes his blonde hair back affectionately and kisses his forehead. Aedion looks up at his wife with such love in his eyes, it nearly knocks Aelin out. She takes a large gulp of her coffee, and looks down at the ground where her feet move in tiny circles, tracing the tiles beneath her toes. Up, up, and around. She lets her eyes follow the pattern of her foot, practicing tendus as if she’s back in elementary school ballet.

“Do you want to stay here and rest while we take the kids to the park?” Lysandra asks, and Aedion shakes his head and brushes his lips against Lysandra’s hand. Aelin brings her leg off the ground, tapping it lightly to her knee, before placing it down again. She focuses on the position of her turn out and pointing her toes, just like her old dance teacher used to tell her.

“No, I’ll be fine. Just. Coffee, please?” he begs, and Lysandra rolls her eyes at him, but continues smiling. “If Aelin didn’t drink it all. Seriously, how much caffeine have you had? You’re vibrating the entire room. Sit down, it’s exhausting just looking at you.”

Aelin sticks her tongue out at her brother and watches as Lysandra pours Aedion his coffee with two packets of sugar in the raw and a splash of vanilla creamer. Aelin briefly thinks about how Rowan also needs to put a million things into his coffee to drink it – in fact, last week she filled a glass halfway with coffee and filled the rest with milk, and he still said it was too strong for him. She remembers the way his eyes gleamed when she told him he needed to toughen up, and he smiled and just said he liked things that tasted sweet and then kissed her.

Aelin stops herself. She shouldn’t be thinking about that. She and Rowan are over. Finished. He made that perfectly clear. Aelin slams her mug against the counter a little too hard. It clunks loudly against the marble, silencing the room as she finally stills.  

“So, should we get going or what?” Aelin asks, her foot swinging back and forth distractedly. If her movements are any indictaton, she’s not nearly ready, but she needs to pull off the band-aid eventually.

“Are you okay?” Aedion asks, raising an eyebrow at her odd behavior. But Aelin simply smiles and reassures him with the mantra she’s been saying over and over for the last twelve hours.

“I’m fine.”

The walk to the park seems longer than ever, for some reason. Aelin’s heart thuds loudly, beating in time with each step, filling her with unease as she grows closer to the park. When t finally comes into view, Aelin starts to feel nauseous. It’s probably her third cup of coffee that pushed her over the edge into jittery illness, but she suddenly wants to go back home and tell her mom she’s sick. She’s not ready for this.

But before she knows it, they’re at the entrance. She won’t be a coward, she decides, stepping through.

Aelin keeps her eyes wide open, searching for a flash of silver hair, her stomach roiling with knots as her family heads to their first ride. It gets worse with every corner she turns, holding her breath in anticipation of seeing those dark green eyes and wondering what emotion they’ll hold. Her constant anxiety works its way through her body, exhausting her quickly, and soon Aelin needs a snack break, desperate for a sugar boost.

As soon as she’s ordered her ice cream, Aelin is interrupted by a widely smiling Elide. Aelin smiles back at her beaming friend, knowing that she had a much better weekend than Aelin did and not wanting to bring her down. She heard all about it on the ride back home last night. And she assumes Elide and Lorcan went for a repeat as soon as they were off the bus.

“Hey!” Elide wraps her arms around Aelin’s waist, coming in for a giant hug.

“Hey yourself,” Aelin laughs. “You’re in a good mood again,” she quips, and Elide shoves her arm.

“Shut up. Let me be happy,” Elide grins.

“Judging just the size of Lorcan’s hands, I’m sure you’re very happy.” Aelin winks at her friend, whose cheeks flush and her brown eyes sparkle with glee, confirming Aelin’s suspicions.

“You’re the worst.”

“No, I’m the best,” Aelin says with a chuckle, and it feels good to smile, even if it’s not quite genuine.

“Speaking of, how’s your other half feeling?” Elide asks.

“Dorian?” Aelin replies. “I haven’t heard from him yet today.”

“No, you idiot.” Elide looks at her with narrowed eyes. “Rowan. Lorcan said he called in sick this morning.”

Aelin freezes, the nauseous feeling spilling into her stomach again. “He did?”

Aelin’s pause gets Elide’s attention, an Aelin tries to force a mask of calm on. She’s not entirely sure it works. Elide quirks her head to the side, trying to figure out what’s going on, looking like a confused animal.

“You didn’t know?” Elide asks slowly, and Aelin shakes her head as the snack attendant hands her an ice cream bar, but she’s not feeling hungry anymore. “I assumed you would have been there decked out with soup and juice or whatever.”

Aelin gnaws at the skin on her lip and shrugs. “Rowan and I actually…” She breathes deeply and plasters on a small smile for her friend. “We didn’t have as good a weekend as you. We actually, um, ended things.”

Elide gasps, horrified, and opens her arms to hug Aelin as she apologizes. “Oh my god, Aelin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—" But Aelin stops her quickly.

“It’s fine,” she says with a shrug. “I’m fine.” Aelin sighs, her heart beating loudly in her chest as she repeats her practiced words, the ones she stayed up all night rehearsing and repeating over and over in her head until it became her truth. “We both knew it was just a summer thing, and now summer is over, you know?”

“Yeah…” Elide says sadly.

“Seriously, Ellie. You don’t need to give me that sad face. I’m fine,” Aelin repeats again.

“Okay.” She knows Elide is appeasing her, but she appreciates it. She doesn’t want to keep having this conversation. “Well, if you feel like coming out tonight and getting wasted, a bunch of us are hitting the Mason Jar after work,” Elide says. “You’re welcome to come.”

Aelin smiles, grateful at her friend for dropping it. “I think Dorian and I are supposed to hang later, but we could probably come after? I’ll let you know.”

Elide accepts Aelin’s half-committed response with a small nod, gives her another hug and heads off to her next shift.

Aelin takes one lick of her ice cream, hoping it’ll settle her stomach, but it does the opposite. It tastes like chalk in her dry mouth and she struggles to swallow it. She makes it back to her family, getting ready to go on the log flume. She gives the ice cream to her mother instead, who accepts it with a happy smile, completely unaware of her daughter’s upset. Aelin starts to dance in place again, needing something, anything to do.

Aelin thought she’d be relieved to know that Rowan isn’t in the park, but it’s brought her anything but comfort. Instead, she feels antsy that he’s in his apartment and not at the park. She said she’d see him in the park, and the first day, he goes and stays home? Aelin has a distinct feeling he’s not sick and wants to call him out.

Aelin pulls out her phone, ready to text Rowan and ask how he’s feeling, call his bluff. But she knows she can’t. Who is she to judge him for staying home and avoiding her? Rowan asked for space, and her checking in with him on day one is the absolute opposite of that. She’s furious with herself for even contemplating it. Why is she such a selfish bitch? She can’t even give him a single day off from her? Her chest tugs uncomfortably with the realization that he’ll have the rest of his life off from her. Aelin points and flexes her foot and reminds herself that she’s fine. She stands on her toes and plies, again and again, as she repeats the thought to herself.

She shoves her phone back into her pocket and doesn’t take it out again until the day is over.

When she pulls it back out, she’s not surprised to see she has no notifications. She’s been with her entire family the whole day. Who else would be texting her?

Instead of going back down that spiral, she texts Dorian, asking him if he’s still up to hanging out tonight.

He texts her back immediately. What do you want to do? Movie night?

Aelin pauses. The idea of sitting and watching a movie for hours sounds like torture. She needs a way to get out of her head. She impulsively texts him if they can go for a run instead. Dorian’s response is immediate.

A RUN?! We don’t run.

We do now. Dorian doesn’t reply, and Aelin starts feeling her heart pound again with nerves.

Please? Aelin texts again. She’s not above begging. She can’t help but feel ansty as she waits for his reply.

Fine. But I get to pick where we get dinner after.

Aelin smiles and walks home quickly. Dorian is already waiting on their back patio, running shoes in hand when she arrives. And she can’t help but smile.

“You’re the bestest best friend in the whole world,” she says, hugging him tightly, and Dorian shrugs her off, but she sees his pink ears as she showers him with praise.

“Where to?” he asks, shoving his feet into his shoes, and Aelin doesn’t wait for him to be ready to take off through the house, startling her parents who are opening a bottle of wine and settling in for dinner.

“Try and keep up, Dor!” she shouts, winding her way to the front door and taking off down the long driveway.

Unsurprisingly, Dorian catches up quickly. Despite him complaining about running, Dorian is actually fairly athletic. He played lacrosse all of high school and into college, and running comes second nature to him. He keeps stride beside Aelin, who breathes loudly as she finds her pace.

Aelin isn’t much of a runner herself – she danced and swam as her sports, but she can’t deny there’s something meditative about the even-paced tread of running. Her body falls into a solid rhythm, and she listens to the soft thud of her feet on the hot asphalt to center her as they take off into the neighborhood, the sun starting to set behind them.

“So…” Dorian starts, and Aelin turns her head lightly towards him to see what he wants to talk about. He doesn’t continue, so she assumes he’s trying to prompt her into some conversation, but he’s going to have to work harder than that.

“Ace,” he continues, breathing her nickname out like heavy sigh. “Talk to me.”

“About what?” Aelin asks, pumping her arms harder so she can talk and run simultaneously.

“You don’t need to pretend,” Dorian says carefully, his lips pursed. “I know.”

“Know what?” Aelin asks, turning her focus back to the steady thump, thump, thump of her footfall on the street.  

She’s not looking at him, but she knows Dorian is staring at her like she’s the biggest idiot in the world.

Aelin swallows loudly as she croaks out, “How?” And she watches the tension pull at Dorian’s neck and shoulders as he contemplates his next words.

“A little gay birdie told me.”

Aelin stumbles, losing her footing for a brief second, before ploughing forward. “Manon?” she pants, and Dorian nods.

“We’re actually, uh, friends now?” Dorian tells her nervously as he runs beside her. “I’ve been hanging out with her a lot since she’s started dating Nimi. They’re moving in together.”

“I didn’t know…” Aelin says quietly. Sweat beads run down her forehead and into her eyes, and Aelin wipes at them with the hem of her shirt, refusing to break step again as she thinks about all that she’s missed this summer. She hasn’t spent nearly enough time with her best friend. Yet another thing to add to her ever growing list of things to feel bad about.

“You’ve been busy.” Dorian shrugs and blots off his own sweat. “But you’re… not… anymore?”

Aelin shakes her head. “It was just for the summer. You knew that. It’s fine,” she says for the millionth time that day. “I’m fine.”

She watches as Dorian slows down his pace, so he can turn to her fully, his blue eyes piercing through her. “No, you’re not,” he says, and Aelin’s entire body stiffens under his intense scrutiny.

“Yes,” she insists, not letting his slowed pace affect her. She needs to keep moving and moving fast. “I am.”

“Aelin, come on. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter,” he says, becoming more agitated. He grabs at his curly bangs and tugs them off his forehead, a sure sign of his annoyance with his friend. “I know you. I’ve never seen you like this before. You were so wrapped up in him, I’m surprised anyone could pull you two apart. You can’t just end something like that and be fine.”

“Well I did, and I am, okay?” Aelin can feel her pulse racing as she stares at her best friend. She’s always run a little hot, but she never snaps at him.

“I just don’t understand why it ended at all. You’re obsessed with each other and—”

“Dorian, stop!” she hisses as her feet stutter to a complete stop. His lips part in surprise as he stops just in front of her, but he gives into her demands, hands up in defeat as he quits talking.

Her shoulders heave with her heavy breath as she struggles to tamp down her sudden burst of anger.

“Can we please just finish our run and not talk about my no-longer existent love life? Please?”

Aelin knows she can’t handle this conversation. There’s a reason she needs to keep moving, and it is so she doesn’t have to think about this. About being obsessed with Rowan, about being so wrapped up in him that she almost convinced herself she could have him forever. She can’t think about all that she’s lost. Not yet. So, she’ll keep moving instead.

“Can I give you a hug?” Dorian asks, and Aelin shakes her head immediately.

“I appreciate that so much, but… I just can’t, okay?”

Dorian nods, though she’s not sure he really understands what she’s saying. She doesn’t really understand what she’s saying either, honestly.

They pick their feet back up and start their run again, although it doesn’t distract Aelin as much as she wishes it would. Now that Dorian’s poked that tiny hole in her wall, she can feel the sadness start to mix with her anxiety, creating a cacophony of heartbreak seeping into her body. It threatens to drown her in a deadly tidal wave of her own creation.

By the time the pair finishes their run, Aelin is desperate to keep the emotions at bay. She will literally do anything to erase them.

“Dinner?” Dorian pants as he wipes sweat from his brow.

“Yeah,” Aelin breathes heavily. “Where do you want to go?”

Dorian shakes his head. “Lady’s choice.”

Aelin sighs. She doesn’t want to have to make any more decisions right now. So instead, she chooses Dorian’s favorite restaurant. A small Mexican restaurant with cheese coated everything and killer spicy margaritas. If Dorian is surprised, he doesn’t say anything – though he knows Aelin isn’t the biggest fan of the place because cilantro is in literally every dish, and she can’t stand the herb. But Aelin can’t help but think that a margarita sounds pretty damn good right now.

They agree to shower and meet up in an hour, and Aelin takes the time to put on a full face of makeup and do her hair. She needs protection from the real world. If she’s going out and seeing people, she’s not going to be Aelin tonight. She’s going to bury herself beneath layers of hairspray and makeup and too tight clothing. She takes the time to blow out her hair straight, something she hasn’t done since the very first week of summer, and cakes on foundation, dark eye shadow and liner and finishes with a thick coat of mascara. She stands in front of her closet, needing the proper clothes to accompany her non-Aelin look, something to act as armor. She finds a pair of old ripped jeans, which are far too tight, but she manages to shimmy into them, and finishes with a strappy black crop top from her college partying days.

She stares at herself in the mirror, armed with cleavage and sultry eyes, she doesn’t look like herself. And she feels a modicum of relief. She can be someone else and forget her problems. Just for the night.

Dorian whistles when she enters the restaurant, spicy margarita already waiting on the table for her. She brings it to her lips and takes a long sip as Dorian peruses her look.

“All this for me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and Aelin can’t help but roll her eyes at him.

“I thought we could go out dancing after dinner,” she says, quickly swallowing a large gulp of her margarita. It’s spicy and sweet and salty and tingles all the way down as it settles in her stomach. She knows dancing is a long shot – Dorian hates dancing. In public, at least. He can’t stand the bad club music and overheated floors and gaudy lights and overpriced drinks. It’s not his environment; he’d rather do karaoke at a dive bar any day of the week, but Aelin is desperate to keep her endorphins up. Karaoke just won’t cut it.

“Dancing?” He looks put out, and Aelin crinkles her nose at his frown.

“Yeah, you know. Loud music, sweaty bodies, dimmed lights, more drinks...” “I hate dancing,” Dorian scoffs. Aelin is undeterred by his less than enthusiastic attitude, already prepared for his pushback, as she grabs a chip and dunks it into the bowl of salsa between them. “You do not,” she says, exasperated with her best friend already. “You’re just a music snob. But once we get enough liquor in you...”

She lifts up her margarita, already half empty, and Dorian finally cracks a smile. She’s breaking through to him. She knew she’d be able to. Knew the restaurant would help bribe him. “Elide texted me about drinks?” he says, and Aelin sighs. She knew she should have just told Elide they couldn’t come. “Why don’t we just get drunk at The Mason Jar with everyone else.” “Because there’s no dance floor at MJ’s. Pleasseee?” Aelin begs. “Are you going to yell at me again if I tell you you’re acting a little manic?”

Aelin pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. She knows she is. She’s been chasing an adrenaline high all damn day – running and twirling and skipping from activity to activity, unable to stop moving. She can’t think about what happens when the endorphins fade. “I just. Want to dance. Please, Dor. Please.” She pauses and waits for him to answer, hoping against all hopes she can get him to agree to dancing. She knows it’s a long shot, but she’s willing to do anything at this moment to get him to agree .

“If we go dancing, then will you actually talk to me about you?”

Ugh. Anything but that.

“Tomorrow?” Aelin asks, hope blooming in her chest that she can push those feelings off for another day – or ideally until she’s back home in Adarlan and completely alone, and Dorian frowns again.

“Let’s eat first and then decide how we’re feeling,” he says.

Aelin isn’t completely happy with his answer but agrees. She’ll never get him to agree if she pushes too hard.

Instead, she asks him about the last few weeks. She wants to be informed about everything. What has he been up to? How did his friendship with Manon form? What have they done together?

Aelin listens closely as Dorian launches into his stories of what he’s been doing with Manon, following every word as he describes their adventures around Terrasen. He tells her about their time at the brewery and getting free drinks all night because Manon and Nimi convinced the bartender they were newlyweds. And how Manon let him bleach her hair, and he ended up bleaching his arm hair by accident. He pulls up his sleeve to show the evidence, and Aelin cackles wildly at the orange tinted hair on his arm. Dark hair doesn’t bleach well without toner, he explains, causing Aelin to laugh hysterically again.

It feels so good to laugh. Dorian can tell and continually tells her stories, one progressively more absurd than the other. By the time he’s explaining the first time Manon wing-manned for him, and picked up a dude, because she “just assumed,” Aelin is having a hard time breathing through her giggles.  

“But you do like dudes,” Aelin says through her laughter.

“Yeah, but only on occasion! And I can’t believe she even didn’t ask.”

Aelin laughs at her best friend, who is clearly acting put out to get her to laugh more. She appreciates his efforts.

“You still hooked up with him, though, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dorian says with a fiendish grin. “He was hot.”

Aelin smiles so widely she feel like her face might crack. “I missed you, Dor.”

He runs his hand through his dark curls and bats his dark lashes at her overzealously. “Yeah, yeah. Me too.”

Aelin bites her lip as she begins to launch into her one last plea for dancing, but it turns out to be unnecessary.

“Alright, to Red Square?” he asks, and Aelin squeals with glee.

“Are you sure?” she asks, wanting Dorian to have a good night, too. “You could invite Manon if you want.” Dorian raises an eyebrow at the suggestion. “Won’t that be a little weird?” “No, I already told you, it’s fine. I’m—“ “You’re fine, yeah. I heard you.” She knows he doesn’t believe her, but as long as he’s willing to go dance with her, she doesn’t particularly care. He bites his lip and Aelin smiles, knowing he’s convinced.

Dorian shoots off a quick text to Manon, who replies quickly that she’s at drinks with Elide – of course, Aelin should have known – but that if they get drunk enough, she’ll be happy to watch Dorian make a fool of himself on a dance floor.

“I like her,” Aelin snorts as she links her arm with Dorian, who pulls her close and kisses the top of her head. Her heart stutters as she thinks of all the times Rowan ghosted his lips across her hair and forehead; his favorite spot to kiss. But she shakes it off quickly, thinking about all the liquor she’s about to consume. She’s ready to have her mind erased. There’s exactly one dance club in all of Terrasen — a Russian vodka bar with a cramped dance floor in the back, where barely twenty people can smush their bodies against each other like sardines, swaying to the bad DJ playing hits from five years ago. Just ever so out of touch. They’re famous for their signature cocktail. The nanotchka. A sugary combination of strawberries, champagne and vanilla flavored vodka. They taste like candy but are seriously lethal.

Aelin immediately orders three.

Dorian lifts an eyebrow. “Manon isn’t coming for a little while yet…”

Aelin smirks and picks up the drinks off the bar. “I know. These are both for me.”

She wiggles her hips as she slurps down half of the strawberry concoction, feeling it warm her immediately. Dorian laughs and grabs the third one for himself, watching Aelin throw back the first drink in record time.

“Dance time?” she asks, feeling looser and lighter already.

Dorian holds out his hand for Aelin to lead the way, and she makes her way from the empty front bar to the back room, which is already pulsing with heavy bass and flashing colored lights.

“I love this song,” she says, traipsing onto the dance floor. Bodies part for her and Dorian, making room for them as she slides into the middle, hips swaying with the steady thrum of the bass. She closes her eyes and lets the music flow through her. With Dorian next to her, she feels safe enough to let loose. She sways happily to the music, sipping at her second drink just enough to keep it from spilling. He matches her pace, grinning at her as she sings along to the song blaring overhead.

We're all here -- the lights and boys are blinding We hang back, it's all in the timing It's poker, he can't see it in my face But I'm about to play my Ace

Dorian spins her around, and she whirls in a circle, her hair spinning around her shoulders as she continues to sing too loudly for the small dance floor.

Baby, we're the new romantics Come on, come along with me Heart break is the national anthem We sing it proudly We are too busy dancing To get knocked off our feet Baby, we're the new romantics The best people in life are free

Her heart swells with the lyrics, singing her affirmations. Before she knows it, her second drink is empty, but Dorian replaces it with a third quickly.

Some time between her second and third drink, Aelin’s head starts to swim, and her body floats away. She’s no longer in control of her limbs – she’s just moving. A body unto someone else. Three quarters vodka, one quarter sweat. And one hundred percent unencumbered by feelings. This is exactly what she wanted. She’s almost forgotten about the persistent painful tug against her chest. Almost.

Aelin is completely wasted by the time Manon arrives with Nimi. She knows they’re not exactly friends, but she can’t help running off the dance floor to greet them with big smiles and hugs. She throws her arms around Manon’s shoulders, stumbling slightly into the tall blonde. They both sway momentarily while Manon regains her balance, but Aelin barely notices, as she moves onto greeting Nimi.

“Whoa,” Manon mutters under her breath at Aelin’s forceful hello.

“You both need drinks!” Aelin chirps, and insists that she get their first round, despite their insistence that they can’t stay for that long. Aelin shushes them and promises the nanotchka will change their lives.

At the bar, Aelin orders another round, and feels someone pressing into her, trying to get to the front. She attempts to move to the side, but the hand on the small of her back just shifts to her hip as she moves. She looks up into the eyes of a tall man with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. He’s looking at her like he knows her, but she can’t place him.

“Well, well, well, never thought I’d see heiress Aelin Ashryver at Red Square,” he chuckles darkly, and Aelin sways on her feet and narrows her eyes, trying to remember the man in front of her.

“Do I know you?” she finally asks, trying to gather her drinks quickly, but she’s much drunker than she initially thought, because she knocks one over immediately, spilling it all over the bar.

She apologizes to the bartender, but the man in front of her smirks and offers to get her another.

“No, it’s fine,” she says quickly. “I probably don’t need another one anyway…”

And it’s true. As Aelin looks up, she realizes the floor is tilting slightly. She forgot how strong these drinks were. She definitely should have paced herself more.

“Cairn,” the man finally says, and Aelin struggles to remember why that name sounds familiar. “I’m a friend of Sam Cortland’s,” he clarifies. “We met briefly at his party.”

The main thing Aelin remembers of that night is kissing Rowan under a streetlight and how handsome he looked. Everything else was a blur. She shivers and grabs the remaining two drinks, trying to steady herself enough to walk back to the dance floor.

“Right. Well, my friends are waiting,” she says, motioning back to the dance floor, and he finally releases his grasp on her hip.

“See you out there,” he says with a wink, and Aelin can’t walk away fast enough. Even wasted, she knows that guy gives off bad vibes. She finds Manon, Nimi, and Dorian, who have taken their spot in one of the booths, which surround the dance floor.

Dorian pouts upon seeing her two drinks. “None for me?”

“I could only carry two!” she says with a laugh. “Now, who’s coming to dance with me?”

She braces herself on the side of the table and pointedly looks at her friends, but they all avoid her.

“We really are leaving soon… our ride is on the way,” Manon explains, and Dorian grimaces as he pleads a break. His feet are tired. He’s sweaty, and he’s almost ready to leave, too.

Aelin looks at her phone. It’s already after midnight, somehow. She asks Dorian to give her twenty more minutes of dancing, and then they can head out. He nods and says he’ll be waiting at the table for her whenever she’s ready to go.

Aelin slides between the mess of sweaty bodies, finding her place on the floor again. She doesn’t go all the way to the center, wanting to be able to flag down Dorian, should she need him. But, she gives into the music again and starts moving.

Her drunk feet barely leave the ground as she flails her arms and hips. She thinks that’s safest. But she lets herself ascend again. After a few minutes of moving, she feels someone’s hands on her hips as a warm body presses against her back.

She stiffens as she looks over her shoulder and sees a leering Cairn, trying to look down her shirt. She expertly spins out of his arms, and takes a step away to keep dancing alone, but he follows her, undeterred.

“What are you doing?” she shouts over the music.

“Dancing with you,” he says, his hands reaching out to grab at her waist and pull her into himself again. She can feel him hard against her, and Aelin is completely disgusted. Her head swims as she tries to regain her senses, but she’s too drunk, too out of control, and she’s not strong enough to pull out of his grasp as he moves their hips together, his erection poking into her stomach uncomfortably.

“I want to dance alone,” she says, trying to extract herself again, but his fingers are hooked into her belt loops, and Aelin is stuck. She looks over to Dorian’s table, trying to get his attention, but the table is empty. Her heart pounds, suddenly feeling very alone and unsafe and abandoned.

“No one who’s dressed like you are right now wants to dance alone,” Cairn says and dips his head to her bare shoulder. He skims his nose against her skin, and Aelin focuses and pushes against his chest as hard as she can. He barely moves. “Sam told me you were a little tease,” he sneers, and Aelin starts to feel sick.

“Just, leave me alone, please,” she begs, her eyes darting around the room for Dorian or Manon or Nimi. Where did they go? She’s way too drunk for this. Her heart pounds wildly, and not just from the hours of dancing she’s done.

“I don’t think I will,” he says, letting his hands slide down her thighs and grope her ass.

She’s about to shove him again when she’s pulled back aggressively, whipped out of Cairn’s grasp by two strong arms. She stumbles back into her savior and immediately feels warmth creep up her back and neck. She knows his grasp before she even spots his face or hears his voice over her shoulder.

“She said to leave her alone,” he says lowly, and Aelin can’t help but look over her shoulder at her silver haired protector. Part of her thinks she’s dreaming, until she sees the coldness in his green eyes waver when he looks down at her. His anger hardens again as he looks back at Cairn, and she trips over her feet again. The floor is definitely not even, Aelin decides as she stumbles back into Rowan’s chest. His grasp steadies her, and she can’t help but relax into it slightly.

“Who are you?” Cairn sneers. “Her boyfriend?”

“No,” Rowan sighs. “Not her boyfriend.” Aelin can hear the pain behind his exasperation. It’s enough to shatter the walls she’s attempted to keep in place all day, and she can feel tears start to prick at her eyes. God, she’s so, so stupid. Here he is, still saving her. Always saving her.

“Well, then, fuck off and mind your own business,” Cairn says, reaching for Aelin again. Aelin pushes backwards, away from Cairn, and Rowan pulls her with him as he takes a giant step back.

“There you are!” Dorian calls, jogging up beside her. Rowan immediately releases Aelin, and she feels the loss of his warmth acutely, despite Dorian wrapping his arm over her shoulders. “Hey Cairn,” Dorian coos at the sleazy man in front of them. “Should have known you’re the type to prey on drunk girls.” He stares at him, waiting for a comeback, but Cairn stays, staring. “I think you’re done here,” Dorian says again, firmly, and Cairn finally rolls his eyes and stalks back onto the dance floor.

“Are you okay?” Doran asks, looking her over, and Aelin nods, but she can’t help but be distracted by Rowan’s hovering presence.

“I thought you were sick,” Aelin says, and Rowan’s shoulders stiffen as he looks down at her, his face unreadable.

“I figured I was allowed to play one day of hooky.” He pauses. “Is that a problem? You’re not going to tell your parents and get me in trouble, are you?”

Aelin’s brow furrows. “No, of course not,” she mumbles, suddenly feeling nauseous on top of everything else. The wall crumbles in front of her, and pain rushes in, knocking her senseless. “I’m sorry…” She tries to look at Rowan, really look at him, but her head is swimming, and she can’t stand up straight. She slumps against Dorian, who holds her up.

“Let’s get you home,” Dorian says, leading her out of the bar, but Aelin can’t focus on anything except for the slight warmth coming from Rowan’s body, just inches away.

She ignores Manon and Nimi’s concerned looks as Rowan piles them into the cab of his truck. Rowan pauses, staring at them. Aelin wonders what he’s thinking.

Dorian speaks up. “We’ll be fine. Our Uber is already on its way.”

Aelin wants to apologize again, but she can’t say anything. All she can do is watch as Rowan slams his truck door shut and drives off, leaving Aelin slumped against Dorian, her head pounding and her stomach clenched.

The Uber arrives quickly, just as Dorian said, and he pulls her in after him. The Uber driver chats aimlessly with Dorian as Aelin leans against his shoulder. She tries to breathe steadily, but all she can see is Rowan’s angry face, and all she can feel is her broken heart.

At first, just a small tear falls down Aelin’s cheek, but she wonders what she’s fighting it for. Her shaky breath gives way to a loud cry, and she shocks the entire car when a sob rips out of her chest, and her shoulders heave as she lets out her tears. What is her problem? Why did she do this to herself?

She needs to apologize to Rowan, needs to tell him how much she cares about him, how much she wants to be with him. But, she has no idea how to make that future work. She thinks about giving up her life in Adarlan and staying in Terrasen with him for the first time ever. What would that even look like? She has no idea what she wants to do with her life, still. And even if she decided to do that, would Rowan even have her anymore? Her heart splits painfully as she tears herself apart. Sobs wrack through her body as her shoulders heave with the weight of her sadness.

She briefly hears the Uber driver ask Dorian if she’s okay, and she holds up her hand, repeating her mantra over and over – “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

But she and Dorian both know it’s a lie. She’s not fine. She hasn’t been fine since she pushed Rowan away. And for what? To make them both miserable?

She wants him. No, she needs him. So fucking badly. She can’t imagine feeling this empty hole in her chest for the rest of her life. She needs to figure out how to fix it. She just doesn’t know how. She ruined everything.

Aelin’s tears don’t stop, even as Dorian leads her up the stairs of her house and sits her down in her bathroom to wipe away the caked streaks of mascara from her cheeks. He pours her a large glass of water and helps her change into her favorite shirt of Rowan’s to sleep in. Aelin is infinitely grateful when he curls beside her in her bed, without her having to ask him to stay, as her tears continue to pour down her face.

“I’ll take that hug now,” she whispers, and Dorian doesn’t wait a second before wrapping her up into his tight embrace. He rubs at her back and lets her cry it out.

“I don’t know what to do, Dor,” she says, her voice cracking. “Every second I’m not with him I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Her tears fall in earnest again, dampening her pillow.

“You’re so dramatic,” he chuckles, pushing her tear dampened hair off her cheeks.

“I leave in five days,” she cries, and Dorian hugs her tighter.

“You’ll figure it out,” he says. She nods, not sure that’s true, but she’s grateful for her best friend. He stays with her, smoothing out her hair and whispering hushed affirmations until Aelin finally falls into a fitful sleep.

~*~*~*~

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#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #cruel summer au #charincharge writes #tog fanfic #throne of glass #angst #blame taylor swift

[vegabookishpoetry]

The Star and the Lion - I

“She was a bright star in centuries of darkness. I would have followed that star to the ends of the earth, if she had let me.”

The Star, Atarah Ashryver, was gentle and good. Atarah’s light could be seen from even the darkest caverns in Wendlyn. She was held in high esteem by her Uncle, the king of Wendlyn, and was seen throughout the kingdom as light incarcerate, simple and pure.

The Lion was trapped. Tied to the Queen of the Fae, Maeve, through a treacherous blood oath, the Lion was kept in the darkness. Darkness, until he was sent to the nearby kingdom of Wendlyn to solve a dispute between the Fae Queen and mercenaries residing in the kingdom.

Blinded by Atarah’s light, Gavriel finds himself in a dangerous game between his blood and his heart.

Unbeknownst to the Fae Queen, her Lion is escaping, and will do anything to be with his Star, if only for short while. 

————

The Star and the Lion Masterlist

Dawn was breaking, the sun beginning to shine over the buildings of Varese. Atarah smiled softly, breathing in the warm summer air from atop her balcony. Something about the dawn made her restless and excited. Another day was beginning, and she was eager to find out what the new day would bring. 

A soft purr sounded from behind her, nuzzling its way around her legs. “Good morning Meira,” Atarah chuckled, reaching down to pet her golden cat. “Would you like to go to the market with me on this fine morning?” 

The cat jumped onto her small balcony chair, and promptly curled up, not so much as even looking Atarah’s way. 

“I see how it is Meria, you lazy bum,” she shook her head, stroking the cats head. 

“Are you expecting that thing to answer you?” Her mother’s voice rang from behind her. 

“Good morning mother,”Atarah turned, “Although knocking would have been nice.” 

Her mother smiled, “I apologize, Atarah.” 

“I was just about to go to the market, would you like to join me?” 

Her mother waved a hand in dismissal, “You know how I feel about that crowded place,” she added, walking out onto the balcony next to Atarah. “But I knew you’d want to go. I had the cook gather leftovers from breakfeast for you to hand out,” She finished, pointing to a covered basket by the door.

“ Thank you mother!” Atarah smiled, kissing her mothers cheek before entering her bathing chamber to freshen up.

•••

Atarah glided through the corridors of the palace, leaving her own family’s modest tower in search of her cousin.

Although this was her normal routine, she felt as if something was off today. Nothing had been unusual per say, but she couldn’t help but think that today was holding something special in store.

Perhaps it was the recent announcement of her beloved cousin Evalin’s engagement to the dashing prince Rhoe of Terrasen that was causing her to feel this way.

All the same, she was as eager as ever to make her rounds around Varese.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the man heading her way until she ran into him.

“Good Morning Atarah,” her uncle said as he leaned over to pick up the basket of foods she had dropped.

“Good Morning uncle!” Atarah smiled, taking the basket from the kings outstretched hands.

“I suppose you’re going to leave us to make your rounds?”

Atarah nodded, still smiling, “Yes, I was just about to leave, I was going to ask Evalin if she would wish to come with me, I don’t suppose you’ve seen her around?”

“I have not,” The king chuckled, “She’s probably still in her bedchamber lavishing in her robe, you know how she is in the mornings.”

Atarah giggled, smiling at her uncle, “You’re probably right,” she said, making to move away.

“Atarah?” He stopped her, grinning.

“Yes, uncle?”

“Did you know that the people have started calling you ‘the star of Wendlyn?”

Her eyebrows rose, “The star? That’s quite the name, I did not know that.”

“Our people love you Atarah,” The king smiled, stepping away from her, “You continue to make me proud, I could learn a thing or two from your compassion.”

“You flatter me, uncle,” Atarah flushed, hugging her uncle tightly.

The king chuckled, “Now go wake Evalin up, and make Wendlyn shine.”

•••

“I don’t suppose you have a gown for the celebration ball yet, Atarah?”

“Oh Eva, that’s weeks away.” Atarah chuckled, linking her arm with her cousin’s as they left the palace gates and entered the streets of Varese.

“Weeks! Atarah, you say that as if it’s no big deal!” Evalin gasped, “You still need to find a tailor!”

Atarah winked, “You underestimate me cousin.”

“What have you done?”

“Nothing!” Atarah smiled, “I met a seamstress in the market last week and hired her. The palace seamstresses get paid enough as it is, and I wanted to help her.”

“Oh Ata, you really are a star.” Evalin smiled at her.

Atarah shook her head with a soft smile as a gaggle of school children ran by. “Good morning Atarah!” A young boy she recognized chirped.

“Why, good morning Drayce!” She waved as he passed.

Beside her, Evalin scoffed. “It’s like I don’t exist when I’m with you Ata! They love you more than their own princess!”

“Oh that’s nonsense, Eva,” Atarah dismissed, “You just need to come out with me more.”

Evalin hummed in response as Atarah took a pastry out of her basket and handed it to an old women on the street with a smile. The women returned her smile greatfully, and mummered “Gods bless you.”

Now in the town square, Atarah squeezed her cousins arm, silently urging her to move faster. Atarah loved the market, although she’s constantly reminded that as a Lady of the court, she doesn’t have to leave the comforts of the palace.

She immediately dismisses those sayings however. Atarah believed that to be a good royal, she must meet the people of Wendlyn where they are, even if that means doing things as simple as shopping at the market herself.

“So, Ata,” Evalin began, “I think, since the ball is on summer solstice, we should throw in a little extra gold.”

“You certainly have a flair for the dramatic,” Atarah hummed, “What did you have in mind?”

“Masks!” Evalin giggled, “We haven’t held a masquerade in ages! It’s long overdue.”

“And...” Evalin smiled even brighter, “The ball is a celebration of my engagement, so...Rhoe and I will not be wearing masks.”

Atarah raised an eyebrow, lightly smacking her cousins shoulder, “You attention hog!”

“Hey!” Evalin stuck out her tounge, “Father thought it was a good idea!”

“Oh course he did,” Atarah laughed, “I suppose it could be a fun-”

A loud crash from somewhere in the market followed by shouting cut Atarah off mid-sentence. She glanced at Evalin, who seemed just as perplexed.

Atarah started jogging to the scene of the noise when Evalin grabbed her wrist. She gave Atarah a look that seemed to say you better not get us hurt and let go.

They weaved through the tide of shoppers hurriedly leaving the market. A quick glance up told Atarah enough. A white-tailed hawk flying side by side with an Osprey. “Fae,” she mummered.

Atarah grabbed a young women by the shoulders, “Where?” The women pointed to a small alley at the end of the market and continued rushing away.

She ran for the alley, still dodging between people. She heard her cousin from behind her, “Ata! Get back here!” Atarah waved her off. She wanted-had- to make sure that whoever involved was okay.

Passing by a fallen market stall, Atarah entered the alley. She pressed herself into the shadows along the edge of the wall, and listened.

“-shouldn’t have aggravated my Queen.” Growled a rough male voice.

Atarah shivered, but peered around the corner. She saw three figures, two of them hooded and cloaked, and the white-tailed hawk and osprey she saw earlier.

“You tell your Queen that we know she’s a fake-” one of the cloaked figures pushed the non-cloaked one against the wall.

“You tell her that we’ll expose her for all of Erilea to see-”

A thud, and the non-cloaked man fell to the ground. Knocked out-or dead. The cloaked figure growled, and began stalking twoards the next man.

“Lorcan.” A new voice. “Killing them is not our mission.” The last figure, silent until now, put his hand on his companions shoulder, and took of his hood.

Atarah held her breath. She was right. Fae. Delicately pointed ears poked through the males blond hair. He gently released his hold on his companion’s shoulder, and kneeled down to the fallen man.

Before she could think, Atarah sprinted out of the shadows and pushed the male away from the fallen man. “Stop!”

Oh gods. What had she done? These males were fae, warriors, and she had just shoved one. Atarah froze, waiting for a blow to come.

It never came.

Instead, the blond male kneeled next her, next to the fallen man. “My lady,” he began, but Atarah refused to take her gaze off of the injured man. “I apologize for my companion’s behavior.”

His is voice was gentle but...there was something she couldn’t quite place her finger on. It made Atarah pause, as she listened to him talk. “If you’ll let me, I can heal him.”

Sad. His voice was sad. Sad and old and so many other things that Atarah couldn’t help but slowly turn her head to gaze at him.

“Heal him?” Atarah narrowed her eyes, studying him. The male was beautiful. He had shoulder length blonde hair and tawny eyes the color of a sunset.

She took her gaze off of the male, and focused back on the fallen man, “Why would you heal him when you stood doing nothing while your companion did this?” She urged her voice to sound stronger than she felt.

She felt the fae beside her stiffen. “Again, I apologize, my lady.”

Atarah closed her eyes, thinking. She certainly didn’t know how to heal the man. She huffed a breath and moved away slightly, inviting the fae to heal him.

A soft glow, golden and warm came from the fae male’s hands as he laid them on the injured man. Atarah gasped as a bloody gash on the side of his head was closed and cleaned.

“What the hell are you doing?” The first, dark, male growled again, confirming Atarah’s suspicions that he was fae as well.

The golden male simply took his hands off of the injured man, who was still unconscious, and sent his companion a steely glare.

The two males seemed to have a silent conversation before the dark one backed off and disappeared into an adjacent alleyway, the hawk and osprey flying above him.

“The man will be alright,” the golden fae murmured, “He won’t remember this.”

“Why?” Atarah peered at him, wide-eyed, “Why are you doing this? What did this man do to deserve the wrath of four fae?”

“My lady,” The fae cast his gaze downward and swallowed deeply, before looking back up at her, “You-”

“ATA!” A voice screamed from far behind her, “ATA! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Evalin. Oh gods. How long had she been looking for her? “EVALIN!” she shouted, getting to her feet.

Her cousin rounded the corner into the alleyway. “Oh Ata, thank the gods!” Evalin tackled her in a hug, “I was worried sick.”

“I’m okay,” Atarah hugged her back, then quickly pulled away rembering who else was in that alley with her.

When she turned to face the golden male again, she was met with nothing but a dark alley. He was gone.

——————

Part Two

Taglist: @snaps7 @alsornaaredhel @nightcourteternal

#the star and the lion #aelin ashryver #celeana sardorhien #heir of fire #queen of shadows #rowan whitethorn #sarah j maas #sjm #sjmaas #throne of glass #crown of midnight #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #aedion ashryver #gavriel the lion #gavriel #lorcan salvaterre #fenrys #maeve #evalin ashryver #sjm books #valg #lysaedion #lysandra #elide lochan #manon blackbeak #chaol westfall #dorian hillivard #yrene towers

[sparkleywonderful]

The Prince of Ice: Ch.21

Part 21 of The Prince of Ice series, a retelling of Heir of Fire from Rowan’s point of view.

The Prince of Ice: Parts [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ] [ 11 ] [ 12 ] [ 13 ] [ 14 ] [ 14.5 ] [ 15 ] [ 16 ]  [ 17 ] [ 18 ] [ 19 ] [ 20 ]

- - - - - - -

He sat at his work table monitoring Aelin. His instincts to protect had battled for hours against his demons. He had never fussed over his mate, the same way he was fussing over Aelin. If he had, maybe… He froze that thought deep into the dark abyss that had become his soul. If there was one lesson that was deeply ingrained, it was that he could never go back.

He looked over at Aelin, noticing she looked peaceful. At this moment he could easily see the Ashryver lineage in the gold of her skin and hair. He remembered decades ago when Rhoe had fallen in love with one of the fair princesses on a trip to Wendlyn. He had given up his right of succession to marry Evalin. The royal court in Terrasen had feared that she would would stay young as he continued to age. With no heir possible from King Orlon, it was determined that their child would be the heir to the throne.

He had a feeling it was a concession on the part of the nobles. Rhoe and Orlon were the last of Brannon’s line. He recalled the lessons that he and Edna sat through, the lessons to mold them into the heads of House Whitethorn. He recalled his uncle mentioning that Terrasen had a great distrust of Maeve and in some ways Wendlyn. Terrasen would never kneel to a princess of Wendlyn.

His eyes dropped to the scared hands and wrists that rested on her abdomen. Instead of being groomed for the crown, she had spent the past ten years being trained to kill. Instead of attending balls and royal functions, she had spent a year as a slave. She was much stronger than he had initially given her credit for. The spoiled brat facade was just that, a mark she wore to face her world.

The scent of two familiar demi-fae pulled him from his thoughts. He had always enjoyed the company of the old man and Luca was starting to grow on him, much in the same way Fenrys had. Even now in her current condition neither male were a true threat to her well being. So the growl that erupted from his throat took all of them by surprise.

Emrys flashed a knowing smile, “Well Elentiya, it seems you are in competent hands, we’ll come back in a few days.”

He appreciated the old man, but that knowing smile ruffled him. He needed to bury the thoughts that blossomed from that smile. The guilt to move forward and live while is mate has died could consume him if he let it.

He continued to study the map marking the location of the found bodies. There was not an easily seen pattern, except that the locations made little sense. He could not remember a time where he had stared so intently at a map hoping it would give him the answers he was looking for, while providing the escape of not facing the current situation in his room.

Aelin pulled him from his thoughts, “You know, I highly doubt anyone is going to attack me now, if they’ve already put up with my nonsense for this long.”

“This isn’t negotiable.”  And it was not negotiable. He could hardly explain the strength in his desire to protect her.

“So you mean to tell me that whenever someone comes close to burnout, she not only goes through all this misery, but if she’s female, the males around her go this berserk?”

He set down his pen and twisted to examine her. Was this berserk? No. Berserk would have been barring the doors, eating only meals prepared by himself. Berserk would be incapacitating every demi-fae in this fortress until she was healed. No, he was fighting against berserk.

“This is hardly berserk. At least you can defend yourself by physical means when your magic is useless. For other Fae, even if they’ve had weapons and defense training, if they can’t touch their magic, they’re vulnerable, especially when they’re drained and in pain. That makes people—usually males, yes—somewhat edgy. Others have been known to kill without thought any perceived threat, real or otherwise.”

He pulled her mug from her, seeing that it was drained he refilled it.

“What sort of threat? Maeve’s lands are peaceful.”

“Threats from anywhere—males, females, creatures … You can’t reason against it. Even if it wasn’t in our culture, there would still be an instinct to protect the defenseless, regardless of whether they’re female or male, young or old.”

She was looking a little peeky. He reached for a slice of bread and a bowl of beef broth. “Eat this.”

“It pains me to say this, but one more bite and I’ll be sick all over the place.”

Ignoring her, he dipped the bread into the broth and held them out to her. Before she had a chance to argue with him, “You need to keep up your energy. You probably came so close to burnout because you didn’t have enough food in your stomach.”

He should have been closely monitoring, before he asked her to keep three fires alight, he should have ensured she had a full meal, something more than an apple. It was his job to instruct her and even though they had already determined he was the worst teacher in the world, he never recalled telling her that her fae body requires more food than her human form.

While she ate, he fussed around the room before grabbing the now empty bowl from her, returning to the worktable trying to ignore the pain that was written between her brows.

“So when the magic runs out,” she said, “that’s it—either you stop or you burn out?”

The fact that he suspected they shared a carranam bond, her question allowed him to ease into a conversation he had been avoiding the last few hours. He knew her training on her fae nature was limited, would have been limited even if the last ten years had not occurred. Demi-fae rarely were powerful enough to have experienced the carranam bond.

Rowan leaned back in his chair. “Well, there’s the carranam.”

“It’s hard to explain, I’ve only ever seen it used a handful of times on killing fields. When you’re drained, your carranam can yield their power to you, as long as you’re compatible and actively sharing a blood connection.”

She tilted her head to the side. “If we were carranam, and I gave you my power, would you still only be using wind and ice—not my fire?”

He nodded his response.

“How do you know if you’re compatible with someone?”

He thought for a moment, “There’s no way of telling until you try. And the bond is so rare that the majority of Fae never meet someone who is compatible, or whom they trust enough to test it out. There’s always a threat that they could take too much—and if they’re unskilled, they could shatter your mind. Or you could both burn out completely.”

He felt the guilt he had been hoarding over the deep need to care for Aelin in ways that he did not Lyria fade completely. While the mating bond was sacred, to experience it did not leave you completely defenseless. To share a carranam bond with another soul, to allow yourself to open completely to another soul, to trust them enough not to harm you, that was an entirely different matter. To trust another soul that deeply explained the strength of his need to protect her.

“Could you ever just steal magic from someone?”

“Less savory Fae once attempted to do so—to win battles and add to their own power—but it never worked. And if it did, it was because the person they held hostage was coincidentally compatible. Maeve outlawed any forced bonds long before I was born, but … I’ve been sent a few times to hunt down corrupt Fae who keep their carranam as slaves. Usually, the slaves are so broken there’s no way to rehabilitate them. Putting them down is the only mercy I can offer.”

The memories of those times threatened to overtake him. The only reason he survived those deaths was because he often prayed for the same mercy he granted to those broken souls.

“Doing that must be harder than all the wars and sieges you’ve ever waged.”

It was those times that he had prayed to the gods, begged to them for a better world, a world without monsters.

“Immortality is not as much of a gift as mortals would believe. It can breed monsters that even you would be sick to learn about. Imagine the sadists you’ve encountered—and then imagine them with millennia to hone their craft and warped desires.”

He watched Aelin shudder at the thought. She had also seen and known the monsters that plagued their world, but only from the human aspect. “This conversation’s become too awful to have after eating,”

“Tell me which one of your little cadre is the handsomest, and if he would fancy me.”

He could not hold back the choke that left his throat.  The thought of her and Fenrys made his blood boil, it was amazing how the boyo could annoy him even in a general conversation. But her with the others caused him to feel a strong dread in the pit of his stomach.

“The thought of you with any of my companions makes my blood run cold.”

“They’re that awful? Your kitty-cat friend looked decent enough.”

It took all of his being not to choke out a laugh. Kitty-cat?

“I don’t think my kitty-cat friend would know what to do with you—nor would any of the others. It would likely end in bloodshed.”

He crossed his arms at the grin that alight her face. While there was a part of him that wanted to see her smile, the other part did not want her to smile at the thought of being with one of his companions. He needed to end this conversation before it morphed into another line of questioning.

“They would likely have very little interest in you, as you’ll be old and decrepit soon enough and thus not worth the effort it would take to win you.”

He almost smiled when she rolled her eyes, “Killjoy.”

When he looked over her again, his eyes caught on her wrists, the proof that she had once worn shackles.

“A skilled healer could probably get rid of those scars—definitely the ones on your wrist, and most on your back.”

He was not sure why he offered the fleeting thought, her scars told a story that should not be erased.

“There were cells in the bowels of the mines that they used to punish slaves. Cells so dark you would wake up in them and think you’d been blinded. They locked me in there sometimes—once for three weeks straight. And the only thing that got me through it was reminding myself of my name, over and over and over—I am Celaena Sardothien.”

It took all of his two centuries of being Maeve’s blood sworn to lock down the rage that was boiling inside him. He sat listening to a girl of eighteen tell him about her hell.

“When they would let me out, so much of my mind had shut down in the darkness that the only thing I could remember was that my name was Celaena. Celaena Sardothien, arrogant and brave and skilled, Celaena who did not know fear or despair, Celaena who was a weapon honed by Death.”

“I don’t usually let myself think about that part of Endovier, after I got out, there were nights when I would wake up and think I was back in those cells, and I would have to light every candle in my room to prove I wasn’t. They don’t just kill you in the mines—they break you.

“There are thousands of slaves in Endovier, and a good number are from Terrasen. Regardless of what I do with my birthright, I’m going to find a way to free them someday. I will free them. Them, and all the slaves in Calaculla, too. So my scars serve as a reminder of that.”

The name whispered on the wind all those weeks ago came forward. Fireheart.

What other pain was she caring close to her heart? Before he could stop himself, “What happened ten years ago, Aelin?”

“I’m not going to talk about that.”

“If you took up your crown, you could free Endovier far more easily than—”

“I can’t talk about it.”

This is when he knew that she blamed herself in some part for the events that occurred ten years ago.

“Why?”

“There is this … rage, this despair and hatred and rage that lives and breathes inside me. There is no sanity to it, no gentleness. It is a monster dwelling under my skin. For the past ten years, I have worked every day, every hour, to keep that monster locked up. And the moment I talk about those two days, and what happened before and after, that monster is going to break loose, and there will be no accounting for what I do.”

And there it was. He had worked through that rage when he slowly killed the Fae that had murdered his wife and child. He was able to settle the rage knowing that those responsible were dead. He could not imagine what it would have been like to have to bottle up that rage because he was helpless to seek vengeance.

“That is how I was able to stand before the King of Adarlan, how I was able to befriend his son and his captain, how I was able to live in that palace. Because I did not give that rage, those memories, one inch. And right now I am looking for the tools that might destroy my enemy, and I cannot let out the monster, because it will make me use those tools against the king, not put them back as I should—and I might very well destroy the world for spite. So that is why I must be Celaena, not Aelin—because being Aelin means facing those things, and unleashing that monster. Do you understand?”

He did, more than she realized.

“For whatever it’s worth, I don’t think you would destroy the world from spite. But I also think you like to suffer. You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you’ve committed. And I know this because I’ve been doing the same damn thing for two hundred years. Tell me, do you think you will go to some blessed Afterworld, or do you expect a burning hell? You’re hoping for hell—because how could you face them in the After-world? Better to suffer, to be damned for eternity and—”

“That’s enough,” she whispered.

What a pair they were. He continued to sit at his work table, knowing that if laid next to her in this very moment he would pull her into him. That was a line he could not cross. It was bad enough that he did not request a cot, sharing a living space would blur the lines, sharing a bed would blur then even farther.

He also knew that he should not get attached, that in a short matter of time that he would have to leave. That this chapter of their lives would end and at that time they would have to part ways.

For tonight and for the days to come he would live in the moment, take the small reprieve from the darkness that she had to offer.

Together. He knew that the together they spoke of did not end here. With that thought, he laid beside her allowing her scent of jasmine, lemon verbena and embers caress over his battered soul, before he spoke,  “At least if you’re going to hell, then we’ll be there together.”

Tired of fighting the urge to touch her, he brushed a large hand down her hair, hiding the smirk when she flatly stated, “I feel bad for the dark god already.”

“When I’m back to normal, can I assume you’re going to yell at me about almost burning out?”

He let out a soft laugh but continued stroking her hair. “You have no idea.”

In that moment he decided that the day she decided to free the slaves from the labor camps, that he would be beside her. Even if Maeve whipped him within a millimeter of his life, it would be worth the pain to see a single wish of hers to come true. “I have no doubt that you’ll be able to free the slaves from the labor camps some day. No matter what name you use.”

When he felt her hand against his chest, and she whispered “thank you for looking after me,” he grunted to fight the urge to pull her closer. Boundaries. She was off-limits for a thousand reasons, not to mention that even if he could open his heart in that way again, he was sworn to Maeve.

@awesomebooksuniverse @loppymooney @queen-elain @inrealliampain @namjoonseuphoria

#Rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan whitethorn pov #heir of fire #throne of glass #aelin ashryver galathynius #sparkleywonderful

[light-the-stars]

“The Visit” (Pt.1)

“The Lesson” (Pt. 2) / “The Quest” (Pt. 3) / “The Confrontation” (Pt.4)

Ao3 Link

Author’s Note: What would happen if Evelyn and Rhoe took a young Aelin to see Meave when they were supposed to. And while they were there, she met the brooding warrior, Rowan. 

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius stood before the gates of Dorenelle with her parents beside her and with her hand in theirs.

Her mother knelt in front of her and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Aelin’s ear. “Now, Aelin. You remember what I told you about Aunt Maeve?” She nodded and swallowed loudly. “That’s a good girl.” Her mother stood up, took Aelin’s hand, and the three of them, with their selected guards, walked through the gate and into Dorenelle.

Aelin’s hands were like dripping faucets they were so sweaty. She was very nervous and had been for the past weeks of travel from Orynth to Wendlyn. Her mother would pace around the ship’s decks and her father would train with their selected guards. But Aelin, she had her books to keep her company. All the different stories and adventures the far off characters would have. She wished that her cousin Aedion had traveled with them. He put up a fight to go with them. He had argued that he should protect Aelin since he’s to take the blood oath one day. But, her father told Aedion to train with Quinn, the Captain of the Guard, and they would be back before he knew it. Aedion huffed, but did as he was told and hugged his cousin goodbye.

~~~~

Maeve was sitting on her throne of stone when Aelin and her parents greeted her, her long dark hair cascading down one of her shoulders.

“Hello, Evalin, Rhoe,” the Fae Queen purred. “And this must be little Princess Aelin. Oh, how I have heard so much about you from my spies.” Evalin and Rhoe were stiff as a board, but Aelin did small curtsey. “Come here, let me take a closer look at you.”

Rhoe’s grasp tightened around Aelin’s hand, but Evalin gave him a sharp head shake and gently pushed Aelin forward. Aelin slowly walked forward and tried to hide her shaking hands in the folds of her skits.

“Come, now, little Aelin, don’t be shy,” Maeve coaxed. Meave walked toward her when she stood in front of the dais. She circled Aelin like a cat on the hunt. Aelin threw a glance at her parents from over her shoulder. Their hands were clasped together and white knuckled, her mother had a contemplative look while her father had a stormy one. She could practically feel the ire coming off of him.

“You’re a tiny thing aren’t you. How old are you, little Princess?” Maeve asked.

“Seven,” Aelin said, her voice sounding small than she expected.

“Seven? Yes it has been seven years. And do you have any powers, Aelin? Can you shift?”

Aelin heard a growl come from her father but Maeve shot him a pointed look. But he could care less and  held her eye contact for longer than a person should bear.

Aelin opened her mouth to say something when the throne room doors burst open and three very large men walked through the doors. Aelin jumped back in fright and her mother and father rushed to her side, but Meave raised her hand in warning

The three males; one dark, one golden and one silver, stalked toward the dais where Meave and Aelin where standing.

“You summoned, Majesty,” the dark one said. All three of them were horrifyingly beautiful. The dark one was all hard lines and edges. The golden one had a softer expression when he noticed her, even with the harsh tattoo on his neck. But, the silver one, his expression was blank and with the wicked tattoo down the side of his face and on the arm and fingers, it made his features a little scary. Aelin backed up a couple steps until she right up against Meave.

“Ah, yes. I did. But, I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly,” Meave said. “Lorcan, Gavriel, and Rowan. My blood sworn.” She pointed to the dark, golden and silver male. “Rhoe, Crown Prince of Terrasen, his wife Evalin, and this,” she placed a hand on Aelin’s shoulder, “is Aelin, the little Princess.”

Aelin was wide eyed at the males standing before he. She was terrified of what they would do, the only thing she could do was stand stick straight. The golden one, Gavriel, looked at her mother with such sadness, but stepped closer to Aelin and crouched before her.

“Hello, princess. It is very nice to meet you,” he said holding out his hand. She stepped closer to him and placed her small hand in his and shook. It wasn’t the proper way to greet a Princess of the Realm, but a greeting nonetheless.

“We could come back if you are busy, Majesty,” Rowan said. With his arms were crossed over his chest, he looked bored. Like, he wanted to be anywhere but here. Aelin though he looked very sad.

“No need. Aelin was just about the show us her gift.” She motioned for her to start, but was interrupted by her mother.

“Aunt Maeve, if it’s no trouble, could we begin tomorrow. We have had a long journey and would like some rest.” Evalin looked Meave straight in the eye.

Meave cocked her head. “I suppose, that the little princess will be at better strengths tomorrow,” she pondered. She waved them away. “Tomorrow, then. Rowan will show you to your rooms.”

“Come, Fireheart,” her mother crooned and Aelin ran to her.

The warrior perked up at the nickname, but only nodded toward them and said, “this way,” and lead them down the hall to their chambers.

~~~~

“Rowan, you are to train the little Princess,” Maeve said. After showing the Galathynius family and their guards to their chambers, Prince Rowan Whitethorn returned to Maeve’s chambers, where the rest of his cadre were already gathered.

“Majesty, with all due respect, I have better things to do than train a child,” Rowan grumbled.

“If Rowan won’t, I’ll do it,” piped up Fenrys. Fenrys, the one who only swore the blood oath because of the love he has for his brother.

“Of course you want to. She’s a pretty young thing that can be molded for your doings,” snapped Lorcan. He didn’t care who he pissed off, just that he did. Fenrys bared his teeth at Lorcan, getting ready to pounce on the male. Connell grabbed his brother’s arm in silent warning.

“You see,” Rowan interjected before things got more out of hand. He gestured to Fenrys, “He’ll be happy to train the Princess.”

“I see that he wants to train her. But, I want you to train her.” She threw the last words at him like they were on fire. Rowan was pretty sure he would be on fire if he had to train the spoiled little Princess.

~~~~

Rhoe, Evalin, and Aelin had just sit down for breakfast when a very loud, insistent banging on the door started up.

“Who in the world could that be?” Evalin looked at Rhoe quizzically.

“Wait here,” Rhoe said. He tentatively got up from the table and walked to the door. Aelin’s parents have been on edge ever since they got to their rooms the previous night. This whole journey has everyone on edge.

There were hushed growling from the corridor and then the silver haired male, Rowan, stalked into the room.

“Get dressed, we’re training today.”

Aelin only gaped at him. She had barely started lessons back in Terrasen and now she was going to “train” with this male?

“No,” Rhoe growled at him. “She is only a child. She can’t stand the grueling training you put each other through.”

Rowan so close to her father their noses were almost touching. “Do you think I want to be doing this? Do you think I don’t have better things to do with my time than ‘train’ a spoiled little princess? My queen ordered this of me and what my queen says, I do.”

The two of them stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime, neither one of them backing down.

“Alright. But I’m coming with you. You will not take advantage of my daughter.”

“Rhoe,” Evalin chastised.

“Ev, these males will do anytime to get what they think is theirs.”

“Rhoe, we are Maeve’s guests. We are to treat her and her warriors with respect. I know you don’t like her or trust her, but we have to follow her rules. And, if she is telling this warrior that she wants him to train Aelin, to give her lessons, then we must obey in order for this visit to be a peaceful one.”

Aelin was still seated at the breakfast table, unsure of what to do. She looked from her parents, to the warrior with his arms crossed over his broad chest. This seems to be his favorite position.

“Fireheart, why don’t you go get dressed,” her mother suggested. “We’ll be waiting for you when you are ready.” She nodded and hurried out the door the her room, ready to get away from the tension.

~~~~

Aelin walked back into their rooms that night, with her father trailing behind her, bone tired and ready for bed. Her mother stood from the couch she was sitting on and walked her family.

“How was training?” she asked. Aelin gave her a look that constituted to say, if that is what is to be expected, I’m not going back, no matter WHAT Aunt Maeve says. Rhoe gave a fairly similar look.

“That bad?” Evalin said sheepishly. The both of them grunted. Aelin stalked into the bathing room to get all the dirt and leaves and grass from all over her body.

Rowan had put her through hell. Trying to get her to shift into her fae form had been brutal. The only times she has ever been able to shift is when she has been scared or angry, which neither had happened today. Most the time, Rowan and her father had been yelling at each other. Rowan would do or saying something that Rhoe wouldn’t like. Then he’d yell or get in the warrior’s face and Rowan would yell back. She wouldn’t have minded the golden warrior that shook her hand yesterday to train her. He kind of reminded her of her cousin, Aedion. She really did miss her cousin. She loved her parents very much, but she wished for someone her own age to be around with.

When she was bathed and dressed, she walked back into the common area. Gavriel was standing talking to her parents. She quickly hid behind a pillar so none of them could see her.

“I am sorry for your loss. You see, I did love her so and wanted to express my sorrow.”

Her mother gave him a small smile. “Thank you. It’s been years I miss her so.”

He nodded. “Yes. I also want to apologize for my companion’s behavior.” Rhoe snorted. “You see,” Gavriel continued, “Rowan’s mate died two hundred years ago and he has never been the same. He has been cold and standoffish and won’t let anyone get close to him. I think - ”

Aelin walked away before she could hear the rest of what he was saying. She was wondering who the woman he was talking about. And Rowan, his mate died. He was cold and heartless because he had no love in his life. When she walked into her room, she began to plan on how to make this warrior prince happy again.

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