#12 days of rowaelin

[feyre-ashryvers]

Merry Christmas for Rowaelin stans!!!! 🎄🎅

Stunning Rowaelin Christmas art by @/jessdraws.s on instagram working in collaboration with @/readingportal on instagram.

This will be available to buy from the reading portals shop in January!!!!

#aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #throne of glass #heir of fire #kingdom of ash #pro rowaelin #12 days of rowaelin #rowan whitethorn galathynius #aelinandrowan #aelin galathynius #queen aelin #aelin of the wildfire #fireheart

[morganofthewildfire]

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

Happy Yulemas

12 Days of Rowaelin Day 1: First Holiday Season Together

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okay, so this one is very short, but i thought it was sweet 😊 i'm just trying to get my writing juices back into working order! hopefully you enjoy!

@rowaelinscourt

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The air was icy that morning, and all Rowan wanted to do was stay in bed, curled up under the comforters and not exposing an inch of his skin to the cruel cold. Why would he bother leaving, when all he wanted was right here?

Golden hair was strewn across his face, tickling his nose, but he didn’t even move to shift it. Aelin’s warm body was tucked into his, her head in his neck and her arm wrapped over his chest, her leg tucked over his hip. It was her favorite way to sleep, and he certainly wasn’t complaining. He enjoyed having her in his arms. 

And just maybe - he was mooching off her body heat.

Who could blame him? They hadn’t exactly gone to sleep with many clothes on, and the temperature had dipped below freezing overnight. 

His hair may look like the snow, but he certainly wasn’t equipped to deal with it. 

“Happy Yulemas,” his girlfriend’s sleepy voice skittered across his bare chest, accompanied by a yawn. Her beautiful eyes weren’t even open yet, and she didn’t seem inclined to enter the world of the waking, instead choosing to just snuggle into him even more.

A smile grew on his face,

“Happy Yulemas, love,” Rowan replied, finally lifting a hand to smooth some of her wild hair back behind her ear. Aelin just nuzzled into him even more, and he chuckled as he realized what she was doing. “Stealing my body heat?” He accused, even if he’d just knowingly been doing the same thing. 

His girlfriend just shrugged against him, and he was going to let it go until she brushed his leg with her freezing toes.

“Agh!” Rowan let out, jerking away from her cold touch. She just giggled. 

“It’s cold in here, buzzard,” she said, finally opening her eyes to look up at him. She was so beautiful, and he gave up his protest in favor of just looking at her. He loved waking up to her in the morning, waking up to her bleary eyes and her sleep mussed hair and her pink lips. 

It was the first Yulemas they were spending together, the first Yulemas they were waking up together. They’d been dating for three, but for the first two, different family reunions and celebrations had called them away. This time… it was just them.

And Rowan had a very special gift under the tree.

“I doubt it’ll be any warmer downstairs,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair, “but I can whip you up some spiked hot chocolate that’ll warm you up all the way down to those freezing toes of yours.”

“Mmm, that’s tempting,” Aelin said, mumbling the words into his neck. “How about I stay here and you go bring me up some?”

“Nope,” Rowan said with a smile. “That’s not how this works. You have to come with me or I’m abandoning you here forever.” 

“Forever?” She asked dramatically, pressing a hand to her heart and gasping. She pushed herself up on her elbow so she was hovering above him. “You wouldn’t do that.” 

“Wouldn’t I?” He teased, reaching out to tickle her bare waist. She let out an unwilling but entirely endearing giggle, and he grinned at her as he continued until she was laughing and nearly begging him to stop.

He relented only then, tucking both of his arms around her and pulling her close until she was resting on top of him, her chin propped on her arms so she was looking down at him. 

“I love you,” she said with a small smile, and he thought the warmth in his heart right then could drown out any cold the winter sent his way. 

“I love you, too,” Rowan replied, leaning up to kiss her forehead. “Now let’s get out of bed and go downstairs. You’ve got lots of presents to open.”

The allure of presents finally got to her, and Aelin pushed herself out of bed, throwing on a cozy robe that’d been hung up on the closet door, sliding her feet into fluffy slippers that made her clamber out the door like she was wearing swimming flippers instead. 

Nerves started racing through him then, as what he was about to do finally hit him, but he just shoved them aside with a deep breath as he stood up to join her, throwing on his own warm clothes. He loved that woman, with all of his heart.

All he could do now was hope that when he asked her to be his wife, she would say yes.

-------

taglist:

@wordsafterhours

@romancinghollywood

@superspiritfestival

@wishfulimaginings

@larisssss

@punkassbookjockey26

@shyvioletcat

@aelinchocolatelover

@s-uppertime

@leiawritesstories

@elentiyawhitethorn

@backtobl4ck

@goddess-aelin

@fromthelibraryofemilyj

@justreadertings

@rowaelinismyotp

@live-the-fangirl-life

@swankii-art-teacher

@tomtenadia

@highqueenofelfhame

@firestarsandseneschals

@thegreyj

@mariamuses

@house-of-galathynius

@rowanaelinn

@llyncooljones

@story-scribbler

@charlizeed

@bookcide

@elizarikaallen

@slytherhys

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@rowaelinrambling

@courtofjurdan

@peppermint-fae

#12 days of rowaelin #rowaelins court #rowaelinscourt #day 1 #rowaelin #rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass au #throne of glass fanfiction

[leiawritesstories]

That's The One

For 12 Days of Rowaelin, Day 1: First Holidays Together

Word count: 1632

Warnings: absolutely none

Enjoy!!

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Aelin was incredibly stressed. 

So stressed that she’d forgotten her purse twice and nearly walked out of her house with only one shoe on. Not to mention the unbuttoned coat. 

Thankfully, she had Lana to keep her mind from going completely off the rails. 

“Mama!” the five-year-old piped up, tugging Aelin’s hand. “I got your purse, Mama!” 

“Thank you, lovey,” Aelin sighed, taking the purse from her daughter and ruffling the girl’s soft blonde curls. “Did I forget anything else, or are we finally ready?” 

“All ready!” Lana declared. “Time to go!” 

“Time to go indeed,” Aelin chuckled. “Ready to see Grandma and Grandpa, Lana?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Good!” Aelin helped the little girl into her carseat, making sure her seatbelt was securely fastened, then hopped into the driver’s seat and backed out of her garage, closing the door with a press of the remote. She sent up a quick prayer to any deity listening as she pulled out of her driveway and headed up the street. Please, don’t let this be a disaster again. 

An hour and a half later, she arrived at her parents’ lovely house in the Staghorn Mountains foothills, driving slowly and carefully down the beautifully raked gravel drive. The house, expansive but somehow welcoming, was surrounded by lush, snow-dusted pines, and paired with the soft fluorescent lights dripping off the detailing, the property looked like a Christmas picture card. 

“Grandma!” Lana squealed, wriggling in her carseat. “Can I unbuckle, Mama?” 

“Not until I turn off the car, remember?” That rule had been implemented as soon as Lana was old enough to sit in a big-girl booster, and she still fought it sometimes. 

Lana stuck out her lower lip but stayed buckled, waiting until Aelin had parked and turned off the ignition before she released her seatbelt. “Hurry up, Mama!” 

“I’m coming, lovey,” Aelin laughed, swinging herself out of the car and grabbing her and her daughter’s overnight bags. “Want to help carry the presents, baby?” 

“I not a baby,” Lana protested. “I big!” 

“That’s right, you’re a big girl, how silly of me to forget.” Aelin planted a great smacking kiss on her daughter’s head, chuckling at her yelp of protest. “Can you help carry all the presents, big girl?” 

“Yeah!” Lana eagerly took the cardboard box full of presents for Aelin’s family and friends and carefully walked up to the front door, keeping her attention locked on the box. 

“That’s an awfully big box, little one,” a deep male voice observed. “You need help getting through the door?” 

So Rowan had beat them to Aelin’s parents’ house, then. 

Lana mumbled something that must have been a yes, because Rowan graciously held open the door for the little girl, keeping it open for Aelin. She flashed him a thankful grin and set down the suitcases and the other bag of presents, then took the box from her daughter. 

“Good job, lovey,” she beamed. “Go say hi to Grandma and Grandpa, I’ll be right behind you.” 

Lana sprinted off to say hi to Rhoe and Evalin, her delighted squeals indicating that her grandparents were very happy to see her. 

Aelin shook out her hands and unzipped her jacket before turning to the man standing to her side, a tiny little grin gracing his face. “Hi.” 

“Hi, Fireheart,” Rowan grinned, glancing around to make sure there were no peeking parents before pulling her into a quick, tender kiss. 

Aelin had met Rowan seven or eight months ago on her way home from work. She’d stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner and, because she was distracted by her godsdamned boss’s stupidly inane call, had accidentally run her shopping cart right into the impossibly handsome man standing in front of her. Between all but yelling at her boss to shut up and profusely apologizing, she’d brought a grin to the man’s face. And, shortly later, he’d helped her bring her groceries out to her car, brushing off her continued apologies. 

They’d exchanged numbers that day and it hadn’t even been forty-eight hours before he’d texted her asking if she wanted to get coffee sometime. Coffee turned into dinner, which turned into dating, which turned into Aelin inviting Rowan to her place a month into their relationship, beyond stressed that he would take one look at her and her daughter and leave. Because who wanted to be with a young single mother? 

Chaol certainly hadn’t. 

To Aelin’s never-ending surprise, though, Rowan had been nothing but sweet with Lana, and Lana had instantly clicked with Rowan. The little girl spent a whole week asking–begging–her mother to tell her when “the pretty man with the drawings” would be coming over again, and the next time she saw him, she flung herself into his arms. She’d never ever done that before. Not even with Aedion, to Aelin’s eternal amusement. 

Six months into their relationship, Aelin decided to invite Rowan to her parents’ house for Christmas, knowing it was time to finally introduce her boyfriend properly to her family. They’d met him over FaceTime and seemed to approve–from Rhoe’s not-very-subtle comments, he definitely approved. But Aelin still had to bring Rowan home, and the holidays were, apparently, the time. He’d instantly agreed, seeming excited but also a little scared at the prospect of meeting her parents. 

“Gods, I feel like I’m a teenager again,” he’d laughed. 

Aelin chuckled. “I’ll make Dad be nice, don’t worry.” 

So here he was, at her parents’ house, stealing a kiss before slipping his hand into hers and squeezing in support. 

“Want me to carry any of the presents?” 

“Yeah, here.” She leaned down and grabbed the bag, handing it to him. “You can take these. Just be careful, you don’t want to break yours.” 

“I thought you were getting me one that didn’t break,” Rowan smirked, winking wickedly. 

“Ro!” She flushed, swatting his arm. “Not right before you meet my parents!” 

 He just laughed and stole another kiss. “All right, I'll behave.” 

“Good.” She rolled onto her tiptoes, whispering into his ear. “Good boys get rewarded, love.” 

That certainly got his…attention. 

Hand in hand with her boyfriend, Aelin headed into the living room, finding her daughter eagerly telling her grandparents all about her Christmas wish list. Lana’s attention went right to Rowan, her story cutting short. 

“Rowan!” she yelled, flinging her arms around his leg. “Rowan, tell Gramma an’ Grampa ’bout the tree house!” 

“That’s one way to make an introduction,” Aelin laughed wryly. “Lana, love, can you help put the presents under the tree?” With her daughter sufficiently occupied, she turned to her parents. “Hi.” 

“Fireheart,” Rhoe beamed, embracing her warmly. “And who is this?” 

“Dad,” Aelin groaned, “we’re not sixteen!” She flashed Rowan a little smirk. “This is Rowan.” 

“Lovely to finally meet you properly, Rowan,” Evalin smiled. 

“Lovely to finally meet you,” Rowan replied, shaking Rhoe’s hand and returning Evalin’s hug. 

Evalin wiggled her brows at her daughter. “He’s a fine one,” she murmured, wrapping Aelin into a warm hug. 

“Mom,” Aelin groaned, flushing as she hugged Evalin back. “You too?” 

Evalin smirked. “This is the first time you’ve brought a man home, Fireheart, so you can forgive us for being a little excited about it.” 

“The first time?” 

Her mother winked. “The first time you’ve brought a man, darling.” 

Aelin snickered. Her mother wasn’t wrong, though–when she first introduced Sam to her parents, it was her freshman year of college. She was barely an adult, and he still had that boyish aura of his. 

A year later, they were parents. 

And a year after that–no. Aelin didn’t want to think about the year after that. 

“Be nice to Rowan,” she chuckled, pretending to glare at her dad. 

Rhoe held up his hands in innocence. “Surely you weren’t expecting me to be anything but gracious?” 

“Funny,” Aelin deadpanned. “So you weren’t planning to interrogate him?” 

“Only a little bit!” 

Aelin sighed dramatically and wound her arms around her boyfriend’s waist. “It’s not too late to leave…” 

“Oh no you don’t,” Rhoe laughed. “Lana here wants her Jell-O, right?” 

“JELL-O!” Lana screeched, bouncing on the sofa cushions. “Now, Grandpa?” 

“Can you wait until dinnertime?” Aelin asked. 

Lana propped her chin on her two fists and considered for a moment. “Okay,” she finally agreed. “I can wait to dinner.” 

“That’s my girl.” Aelin ruffled her daughter’s hair. “Should we give some presents?” 

“Yeah!” Lana’s whole face lit up as she ran for the Christmas tree, excitedly grabbing a few of the neatly wrapped boxes and passing them around. “How come this one says Aelin?” 

“Because that’s my name, lovey.” 

“Oh.” Lana’s blonde brows scrunched up. “But Grandma an’ Grandpa call you Fireheart!” 

Aelin couldn’t stop the fond smile that bloomed across her face. “That’s a nickname, Lana. Like how I call you ‘lovey.’” 

“Is that why your present for Rowan says ‘buzzard?’” 

Rowan snorted a laugh, looping his arm around Aelin’s shoulders. “You’ve been discovered,” he teased, tugging her into his side on the couch. 

She leaned into him. “She’s too smart for her own good, I swear.” 

“Gets that from her mother.” 

She poked him in the ribs. “You stop that before I do something stupid like kiss you.” 

“Who said that’s stupid?” He grinned, leaning down until he was dangerously close. “I think that’s a brilliant idea, love.” Before she could pretend to protest any more, he kissed her, not caring at all that her parents were definitely watching. 

“That’s the one,” Rhoe loudly whispered, flashing a secret grin at his wife. 

Evalin swatted her husband’s shoulder. “You’re not even trying to be subtle, are you?” 

“Why would I try?” He wrapped his arms around her waist, both of them beaming at their daughter, lost in her boyfriend’s arms. “They’re perfect together.”

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

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

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #12 days of rowaelin #pure fluff #just fluff #and kiddos

[llyncooljones]

who is he? - twelve days of rowaelin '22.

ao3 || masterlist || twelve days of rowaelin ‘22 masterlist

prompt: fake dating because ex will be there.

word count: 1118

trigger warnings: language, sexual themes

tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life  @rowaelinismyotp  @fireheartwhitethorn4ever @elentiyawhitethorn @rowanaelinn  @autumnbabylon @leiawritesstories @backtobl4ck  @letstakethedawn @rowaelinscourt

“Elide, no. Please. Don’t—don’t make me go over there. I will embarrass myself, truly. Don’t make me do this, I’m begging you, one spoilt rich girl with a secretly traumatic past to another spoilt rich girl with a secretly traumatic past. Don’t. Make. Me. Do. This.” Aelin tried to turn, but both of Elide’s—admittedly small, and yet so super strong—hands were pushing her forwards. Not allowing her to turn, nor twist.

It was rather annoying given the nine-inch height difference between the two of them.  But maybe their weights were more evenly matched—or maybe Elide’s was higher, due to those big ol’ tits of hers.

“Alright, so if you’re such a coward that you can’t go up to the hot man, whom you’ve been staring at for half an hour, we need to come up with a plan of action. By the way, I want full credit at your wedding for getting the two of you together.” Elide’s smile was wicked and cunning, and she put her index finger and thumb on her chin, and stroked like she had a beard, and some crazy science machine.

“I don’t know, Elide, don’t think that if I knew, I’d be over there scoring myself a Christmas-tree-farming husband, who’s tall enough to put the star on my tree without a ladder.” Elide’s eyes sparkle, and Aelin does damage control, “And that was not an innuendo nor a metaphor for him being able to find my clit, or g-spot, without a how-to. Get your mind out of the gutter, Lochan.”

A fake gasp from her best friend, and then an evil laugh. Aelin truly did consider the likelihood that her best friend was the wicked witch of the west. She decided not, but Elide interrupted her thoughts with a shriek (again, with or not?) and a hand wrapped around her bicep. “I know how you’re going to get with him.”

“Oh, do you now. Let’s hear it, then.”

“He’s gonna be our fake boyfriend to the party that Dorian’s hosting for Christmas eve. It’ll be perfect. You’ll tell him that Dorian’s your ex, and you’ve told him you have a new boyfriend, for the party and therefore you need a fake boyfriend. Christmas Tree Man is perfect for the job because he’s independent, tall, and muscular. Whilst Dorian, who’s your fake ex-boyfriend, is short, lanky and still on his father’s tit. And insecure about it. Christmas Tree Man will make him jealous, and you want that because he hurt you.”

“Let me get this straight: he’s going to be my fake boyfriend, to a party hosted by one of my best friends who is going to be my fake ex-boyfriend, who I’ve fake-told I’ve got a new boyfriend, because he is the epitome of everything my ex is not, and that’s a sore spot for him. Which means my presence with Christmas Tree Man will hurt and offend him, which I want to do because my fake ex-boyfriend hurt me, and I now want to hurt him.”

“Yeah, wow. You’ve caught on quickly. So, down this,” she said pushing a recyclable cup of mulled wine towards Aelin, “for liquid courage and go get your man.”

“Elide I was fucking pulling your leg. I am not going up to some man who I find attractive and lying to him about relationships I’ve never had, and then cornering him into being my fake boyfriend. I refuse. That is, just so wrong on so many levels. If I can’t gather the courage to go up to him, and ask him out for drinks like a normal person, maybe I shouldn’t be going with him.”

Elide’s face crumbled, like a high school note they had passed, and she pouted. “Aelin, you’ve not taken your eyes off that man for a second—not even during this conversation. You need to go up to him, ride the horse, and go! We’ll put aside this whole lying thing, just be honest and tell him that he’s the most attractive guy you’ve seen in years, and that you’d like to go out to dinner or drinks or party with him.”

Aelin shook her head but was secretly considering it.

“Aelin, if not for you, do it for me. I’ve found that tall men group together. So, he will likely have a tall friend whose size will directly correlate to his size. If you know what I mean.” She winks, and Aelin had to laugh, she couldn’t not, “I’ve not had good dick since freshman year of college—and I’m twenty fucking four. I’m desperate.”

“Fine, I don’t think I’ve had good dick ever, so maybe Christmas Tree Man won’t disappoint, if everything is proportionate. But he does still have to know how to use it. What if he doesn’t, Elide, what if he thinks having a big dick is eno—”

“—Aelin, I swear, go to that man, and find us both a big dick, and hopefully a relationship. Love you, Bye!”

She unfolded herself from the picnic table, and shook off her nerves—mentally, she can’t be seen jumping around by her future something. Her eyes settled on Elide still, whose eyes she noticed were large and round and surprised. Instead of questioning her clearly crazy best friend, she turned, only to bump into the chest of a rather tall man.

Tall.

No, she thought. It can’t be, she wondered. No way, she placated.

“Firstly,” he said, in a voice that had her panties wet already, “I would’ve agreed to your crazy plot, princess. I would have doubted it, but I would’ve agreed, and gone to your fake ex-boyfriend’s party, on Christmas eve which I normally spend with my friends and not a random but gorgeous blonde, as the epitome of his insecurities. Just to hurt him, because I knew the second I saw you, that any man who hurt deserved to be hurt right back. Where it hurt the most.

“Second, I could put the star on your Christmas tree without the help of a ladder—and I mean that in both possible ways. This means that, third, I know how to use my dick, even if I do consider myself to be proportionate. On that topic, apparently tall men do group together because I’ve got a friend taller than me, for your friend who’s shorter than you, who I believe is also proportionate but in the same boat as me when it comes to Christmas trees and stars.

“And finally, whilst I don’t mind Christmas Tree Man, I have just told you that I’ve got a big dick, know where your clit is, and can give you g-spot orgasms, so please, call me Rowan.”

#12 days of rowaelin #twelve days of rowaelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #tog #tog fic #throne of glass #throne of glass fic #llyncooljones' writing #my fic #my writing #wih? #who is he?

[golden-kingdom]

And the Season Feels New to Me Because You’re Here

Written for the 12 Days of Rowaelin: First Holiday Season Together (@rowaelinscourt)

Summary: A month before Christmas, rich hotel heiress Aelin Ashryver Galathynius is running away from her future after a fight with her father and hides at a resort in the Staghorn Mountains. When she has a ski accident and hits her head, she loses her memory and nobody knows who she is. Rowan Whitethorn is a widower who owns a small inn in town and father to 6-year-old Thalia. When, after much insistence from his daughter, Rowan offers Aelin a place to stay, the two have to spend time together against their will. Rowan cannot stand spoiled and self-centered Aelin, and Aelin hates how cold and guarded Rowan is. Thalia thinks it would take a Christmas miracle for them to finally get along.

Inspired by Falling for Christmas (2022)

Word Count: 19k

Rating: Explicit for language, alcohol and smut

Read it on AO3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

#rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowan and aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #rowaelin au #rowaelin smut #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #tog fanfiction #tog au #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #celaena sardothien #rowan whitethorn #my writing #and the season feels new to me because you're here #12 days of rowaelin

[highqueenofelfhame]

rowaelin 12 days of christmas @rowaelinscourt

day one: first holiday season together

Boy meets girl, boy falls in love. Girl falls just as hard. Until she finds out that her toymaking tycoon of a boyfriend has a giant bag of secrets in his closet.

#rowaelin #rowaelin’s court #12 days of rowaelin #yulemas #the santa secret #throne of glass #tog #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #writing #aelin ashryver galathynius

[rowaelinscourt]

2022 Calendar of Events

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Hello!! It's @rowaelinscourt back again with some more events!! We've been busy working on planning the rest of the events for the calendar year, and just wanted to share in advance the tentative dates so everyone can get super excited!!!

More details will be coming soon for each event specifically, but below you'll find a -

2022 calendar showing the events

brief explanation of each event

We're very excited for everything we have planned, and we hope you are too!! If you have any questions, shoot us a message!

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

TOG Anniversary Event

To celebrate our beloved series' 10th anniversary this year, we are holding a celebration event for it in the beginning of august, corresponding with the first book's release date of August 2nd, 2012!! As of right now, we are thinking of assigning each day a specific book, hoping to spread our joy and love for the series as a whole. (More details coming soon)

~~~~~

Rowaelin Month

Because of the anniversary event, we've decided that this year (and this year only) we're shortening Rowaelin Month down to two weeks instead of the full month, in order to avoid burn out and not overcrowd the schedule with too much!! But we still encourage everyone to spend the month writing all the rowaelin they can, as it is still rowaelin's month. We'll be sharing more details on prompts and tagging for that soon!!

~~~~~

Rowan Week

This is a new event being added onto the schedule!! With the addition of Aelin Week this May, it felt right to create a celebration for our beloved bird boy. As this is a new event, details are still being sorted out, but we hope to have more information for you soon!

~~~~~

12 Days of Rowaelin

We are reprising this event for the 2022-23 holiday season! Beginning the 25th of December and stretching through the beginning of January! This one will likely be structured the same as last year, but as it is so far away still, we won't have more details for you for a while!!

~~~~~

Thank you for reading this post! We're very excited to host these events for the fandom, and we hope you're excited too!!

#rowaelinmonth #rowanweek #rowan week #tog anniversary #12 days of rowaelin

[whatisamettafor]

#12 days of fandomaas #bryce quinlan #hunt athalar #quinlar #chaol westfall #aedion ashryver #bat boys #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #tharion ketos #ruhn danaan #lidia cervos #dorian havilliard #manorian #manon blackbeak #elorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elriel #elain acheron #azriel shadowsinger #nessian #nesta archeron #Instagram

[goddess-aelin]

The First Yulemas

12 Days of Rowaelin- Day 1

@rowaelinscourt

Masterlist

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none!

- - - - -

Rowan had no idea that Aelin was like this. They hadn’t technically had a Yulemas together yet, not counting the one after the end of the war. That one was marred by healing, rebuilding, and barely having enough time to sleep in one another’s arms much less have a celebration.

But now, one year later, Rowan had no inkling that Aelin was a Yulemas fiend. Until today. How did he not know? He thought he knew everything about his fireheart. Yet here he was, gaping at the copious decorations of candles and evergreen sprigs adorning their room. The sounds of her humming drifted in from their shared closet space. Was she decorating in there, too?

Rowan was never one for Yulemas. He was never one for celebrating, to be quite honest. Over two hundred years of just getting along with life and being blood sworn to Maeve didn’t leave much room for celebrations. Until Aelin.

Aelin loved to celebrate everything under the sun. Birthdays. Weddings. Beltane. All she needed was a reason and she would throw exciting, lavish parties. But Yulemas was a different story. The holiday was still a month away, leaving ample time for her to plan a gathering between their friends. But to start decorating so soon…in their rooms nonetheless? Rowan wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Aelin tore him from his thoughts, clapping loudly as she wandered into their room.

“Ok, Buzzard! Up, up, up! Let’s go! We’ve got a big day today.”

“What?” He was definitely confused. He didn’t remember planning anything or having any meetings.

“It’s Yulemas! We have so much to do and so little time!”

“Yulemas? Aelin, that’s a month away,” he chuckled.

“Don’t be a boring buzzard, Buzzard. We have to decorate and bake and get the tree. And then there’s decorating the tree. And caroling! Lots of caroling all day long! It’s going to be so much fun!”

Rowan knew his face probably looked like he would have anything but a fun time.

“Aelin, do we really need to do all this stuff already? We still have a month until Yulemas day.”

“Yes, we do. Now get up, get dressed, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

With a sigh as Aelin left the room, Rowan rolled out of bed. It was going to be an interesting day.

- - - - -

Rowan would never admit it, but he actually had fun today. He begrudgingly helped Aelin pick a tree, dragging it inside. That was just the first one that went in their room. She insisted that they’d be back to pick more trees for the main areas. At first, Rowan went to question why they needed so many but stopped himself when he beheld the joy on Aelin’s face.

Then came the baking. Neither Rowan nor Aelin were adept at cooking so they helped make the dough while the Orynth Palace Chef actually did the majority of the work. It, once again, wasn’t Rowan’s idea of a good time but once he saw how happy it made his wife, he didn’t care. As long as she was happy, so was he.

They were going to decorate the tree later but before they could, Rowan insisted they go for a walk through the snow in the Oakwald, which Aelin happily agreed to.

“So tell me, Buzzard. Why do you hate Yulemas?”

Rowan was caught off guard. “What? I don’t hate it. Not completely anyway.”

Aelin looked a little dejected. “I could tell you weren’t having that much fun today.”

“That’s not true. I had lots of fun today.” Rowan furrowed his brows.

Aelin just let out a noncommittal sound and gripped his hand tighter.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t happy, right?”

Rowan stopped them in the gently flowing snow. “Fireheart, where is this coming from?” He placed his gloved hand on her cheek.

Aelin let out a long sigh. “I just…I know I can be a lot sometimes with this kind of stuff. Maybe sometimes too much. And I–”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You are never too much. Never. I have never been happier in my life, Aelin. Just because I’m not a big holiday celebrator doesn’t mean you can’t be. I had so much fun today just because I was with you. So I don’t care what we do or how we celebrate. As long as I’m with you, I’m good.” Rowan bent so his forehead was touching hers. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like I wasn’t having fun.”

A few tears ran down Aelin’s cheeks. “You and your pretty speeches.” She wiped at her cheeks. “I just wanted this first real Yulemas together to be perfect. I love Yulemas but I love you more and I didn’t even take into consideration what you might want to do.” She offered him a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“Do you know what I want to do right now?”

“Let me guess, kiss me?”

“Well, actually I was going to say that I wanted to go decorate the tree and listen to you sing loud, off-key carols but that might be a better option.”

“Hey!”

Rowan pulled her into him and kissed her lightly. “What do you say? Decorate the tree, get some hot cocoa, and have a cozy night in? “

Aelin smiled and nodded and so they began their trek back to the castle. Rowan couldn’t help but think that he could get used to a crazy Yulemas as long as it was with his Fireheart by his side.

A/N: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate and happy 1st day of the 12 days of Rowaelin. 😊

Tagging:

@cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @maeclin @ayaashryver @anna-swims @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @kyereads @heirofflowers @bananaanna23 @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee @books4eva04 @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @backtobl4ck @dreamer-133

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #throne of glass #my fic #12 days of rowaelin 2022

[throneofsapphics]

kink/angst-tober masterlist

A/N: vast majority of these will be smut, other prompts may be dark. minors dni please! some of this is subject to change. they'll be posted at midnight est!

Day 1: Spanking with Gavriel Day 2: Wax play with Mor Day 3: Lingerie with Rhys Day 4: “She will die, thinking you never loved her.”  Day 5: Cockwarming with Rowan Day 6: Temperature with Rowaelin Day 7: Free use with Feysand Day 8: “If I see you again, you’re dead.”  Day 9: Piercings with Ruhn Day 10: Blood Kink with Manon Day 11: Mirror with Manorian Day 12: “You can run, we’ll find you every time.”  Day 13: Praise with Fenrys  Day 14: Corruption with Lorcan Day 15: Somnophilia with Nessian  Day 16: “Don’t be nice to me, I know how much you want to slit my throat.” Day 17: Bondage with Feysand  Day 18: Knife play with Manon and Asterin Day 19: Face fucking with Azriel and Rhys  Day 20: “Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.” With Cazriel Day 21: Hair pulling with Elorcan Day 22: Overstimulation with Aelin Day 23: Breath play with Dorian  Day 24: Edging with Lidia Day 25: “Really, poison again? Get more creative.”  Day 26: Face sitting with Nesta  Day 27: Voyeurism with Asterin (ft.the thirteen) Day 28: Degradation with Rowaelin   Day 29: “If you’re going to try and stab me, at least learn how to hold the knife.”  Day 30: Submission with Manorian Day 31: Brat-taming with Rowan 

#kinktober #throne of glass smut #acotar smut #throne of glass fic #throne of glass imagine #acotar imagine #throne of glass x reader #acotar x reader #gavriel x reader #gavriel x y/n #mor x y/n #mor x reader #rhys x y/n #rhys x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin #poly!manorian #poly!nessian #poly!feysand #dorian havilliard x reader #manon blackbeak x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn danaan x y/n #lidia cervos x reader #lidia cervos x y/n #asterin blackbeak x y/n

[shyvioletcat]

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 12

~ Meet Ugly / Meet Cute ~

Thank you so much for your patience with this one. I know it was eagerly awaited so I won’t keep you any longer.

The Sweetest Promise Masterlist

~~~~~

Aelin’s stomach grumbled, a reminder she should have eaten dinner at least an hour ago. But she was on a roll and she didn’t want to lose this flow, her empty stomach be damned. She had found a journal article on ‘hidden composers throughout history’ and she was busy dissecting it for her thesis. Four years ago at the age of twenty she had moved to Doranelle so she could study music at the city’s top university with a world renown music program. Aelin had loved just about every minute of it.

She was in her final year and was working hard on her thesis that would round out her entire course of study. The title of her thesis was The Female Impact on Classical Music. It was all that Aelin could think about, either awake or asleep. Researching, drafting and just trying to figure out how to use words took up most of her time these days. Then at night she woke up from dreams in a panic as she edited in her sleep. For the first three years of her course she had managed to work at a diner just outside campus in between and after classes, but it quickly became apparent that it wouldn’t last. Aelin didn’t know if she was in burnout or if the shift in brain function was just too much for her, either way once the new semester started it had only been weeks before she was handing in her notice. After that she had lived off her meagre savings until she figured out what she would do next.

Her savings were almost depleted and although she could go to her parents for help, she was determined to do this whole move to another continent for college and be self-sufficient thing by herself. Running back to mum and dad was too much for her pride to bear. They would give her whatever she needed and do it gladly. Aelin just didn’t want to feel like she had failed.

That was where Kaltain came in, a woman about Aelin’s age who lived across the hall. They had been passing pleasantries for months and weren’t quite friends but definitely more than acquaintances. One evening Aelin had been coming and Kaltain had been going, both stopping as they saw to the locks on their doors for different reasons.

“Date night?” Aelin had asked, noting the dress and the makeup and the heels. Aelin was a little jealous, she hadn’t been out in ages. She always loved an excuse to dress up.

Kaltain nodded. “Noodles? Again?”

Aelin sighed, looking down to where the five pack bundle of instant noodles could be seen poking out of her shopping bag. “I’m a girl on a budget, what can I say?”

Then Kaltain stopped, giving Aelin a curious look. “Did you know I’m being paid to go on this date?”

“Okay?” Aelin had no idea what she meant or why she was handing over this information.

“The amount of money I get from a single date is enough to feed me for a week and I don’t mean on shitty noodles.”

Kaltain went on to explain her situation. She’d set herself up with a reputable sugar baby website and app. People paid her for her time a few nights a week and all she had to do was turn up, smile and make conversation. If anything beyond that was requested she had the power to decline or approve, and there were various kinds of contracts supplied by the admin. It all sounded intriguing, but Aelin still held her reservations.

“And you don’t have to sleep with them?”

Kaltain shrugged a delicate shoulder. “That is entirely up to you. When I first started I just did a string of first dates until I got used to the whole process. And then when I got the hang of things or I liked a particular client, I changed things up.”

“Hmm,” Aelin hummed, considering everything she had just learned. As she crossed her arms the plastic rustled like a little reminder of what her alternative might be.

“If you want any help with your profile,” Kaltain sang over her shoulder leaving Aelin to decide on her own.

So, Aelin eventually deferred to Kaltain’s advice and taken the plunge. She spent days working on her profile and then it was a few more on top of that to publish it. What had held her back were all the assumptions that went with gaining the title of a ‘sugar baby’. If it got out, what would people think of her? What were the men coming into that situation expecting? Kaltain had assured her more than once that she didn’t actually have to sleep with the men and that she was in total control of what happened. Aelin could just take on the suggestion of going on a continuous string of first dates. That was what kept her resolve up and Aelin had hit post, connotations be damned.

That had been more than a week ago and she was still caught in a gut twisting anxiety of the unknown. Honestly, she found it a little insulting that it had taken her this long to get a hit. Humility had never been her strong suit, she knew she was beautiful and that alone should be a massive draw card. Maybe she’d have to ask for a very small loan from her parents with how things were going, one week for rent and groceries, that was all she would need.

Her stomach grumbled again, and Aelin was more than a little sad that this might just be her second helping of noodles for the day. Lunch and dinner, lucky her. She straightened, stretching her arms above her head to decompress her back. Her tiny kitchen was waiting for her when the phone beside her knee lit up. Aelin assumed that it was just some social media notification—but it wasn’t.

You’ve got a request, Sugar

“Oh, holy gods,” Aelin whispered, lifting her phone to her face. This was it, this meant someone wanted her company. For money.

Aelin unlocked her phone and opened the app just to see who this person might be. The first piece of information she was given was a name, Rowan Whitethorn. Not a bad start. She tapped through to his profile, he was a lawyer, lived in the city, his age was left blank—a little odd but apparently that was a subject some of the clients could get a bit touchy about. The final piece to the puzzle was his photo. Aelin touched the icon to make it bigger and—

“Oh.”

It was terrible quality. Like whoever this Rowan Whitethorn was had cropped his photo from a much smaller one. All she could distinguish was silver hair and his general facial features if she squinted. She grimaced and not at all pleased with her prospects. This looked likely to be some old guy wanting a pretty face to keep him company. It was only the hollow feeling in her stomach that prompted her to open the chat.

>> Hi, Rowan. How are you?

<< Great. How are you, Celaena?

>> Not too bad

<< Good to hear

Aelin was filing through small talk topics when the ellipses appeared, showing that this Rowan was typing away. She watched the tiny animation stop and start at least three times before a message finally appeared.

>> I’m just going to be direct. I need a date for a charity gala tomorrow night. I expect you saw that I’m a lawyer, I’m trying to land a client and a date is essential for that. It won’t be much more than following me around and smiling, and I’m willing to increase your proposed fee due to the last minute nature.

More dots and Aelin waited.

>> I understand if you decline. This was a last ditch effort for me.

<< Procrastinate, did you?

>> Seems that way.

For a moment Aelin sat on her bed and contemplated her options. This didn’t seem too bad. If she said yes she would be arm candy for some desperate old guy who couldn’t get a date on his own. It could be worse, so much worse. As far as a first round as a sugar baby went, this might just be a very easy introduction.

<< A charity gala? You said you’d let me charge for last minute inconvenience, what about wardrobe? I’m sorry but I’ve left all my ballgowns on another continent.

The reply was almost instantaneous.

>> Whatever you need. Say yes and I’ll transfer the funds right away.

Because now it was up to Aelin, she was the one with the power. She could ghost him or even go as far as blocking him, and never have to hear from Rowan Whitethorn again. Or, she could help an old codger out and get paid for it. It might be painfully boring, but at least she could get decent groceries and a pretty dress.

<< I suppose it’s a date, Mr Whitethorn

Aelin went back to her profile and confirmed the request. Her starting rate only sat at $350 because she had no reviews or anything yet, so she was hoping for maybe another hundred dollars or so for the “last minute fee” and for the dress. She waited, impatiently, for whatever notification was supposed to come next. Maybe he’d chicken out, or find someone better. Aelin doubted it, she was an absolute steal, she was beautiful and cheap.

The heralding ping echoed around the room and Aelin saw a tiny red bubble up in the menu corner. She followed the notification and it took her to the money page.

Please check your bank account for receiving of money transfer.

Heart pounding, Aelin did just that. She opened her banking app and there it was. $500

“Desperation did have a price,” Aelin said to herself with a smile.

Feeling accomplished and positively loaded, she decided that she could treat herself and order in tonight. And considering she had classes tomorrow she didn’t really have time to buy a dress for herself. There was another option, right across the hall. It might be wrong of her to pocket the dress money, but she assumed in the line of sugar baby work there were some blurred lines with minor ethics in this kind of trade. What the mysterious Mr Rowan Whitethorn didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Nearly 24 hours later was waiting outside her building in a dress she had borrowed from Kaltain, made up to the nines. She’d chosen a deep green velvet number. It hugged her curves, but not in an indecent way, and the draping cowl neckline showed just enough cleavage to spark the imagination. Aelin had swept her hair to the side in an old Hollywood style with red lips to match. She looked stunning and she’d made sure to take a few photos to add to her profile.

It wasn’t long before her Uber turned up, courtesy of her benefactor and it was just a short ride from her university recommended apartment building to the hotel the gala was being held at. Aelin got out of the car, the bright lights of the hotel brightening the street in the dark. Rowan had said he would meet her inside so she didn’t bother searching for her grey headed date out here. There were more people milling around inside and she caught glimpses of the room decked out for the gala. From what she could see, it looked amazing, and she was very interested to see what kind of desserts she’d be able to find.

Aelin sighed and waited, she couldn’t get in without an invitation. All the other guests showed either a fancy paper one or something on their phones. The large foyer started to empty and there was a fleeting sinking feeling in her gut that she might be getting stood up. At least Aelin was already paid for her troubles.

She watched the front doors, ignoring anyone who didn’t fit Rowan’s very blurry description. Plenty of handsome men and pretty women walked through the foyer and into the gala, as time dragged on Aelin got impatient enough that she checked her phone for any updates five times. She was about to send a message politely demanding to know where he was when movement at the doors caught her eye.

The man had his head down as he fixed his jacket cuff, his silver hair keeping her attention. When he looked up he damn near took her breath away. He was devastatingly handsome, his face on the rugged side of classically handsome with those sharp cheekbones. Like her, he was dressed for a party so it was easy to assume he was a fellow guest. The way his broad shoulders filled out his jacket was downright criminal, because holy gods this was a fine specimen of a man. The stranger paused to look around the room and then pine green eyes landed on her.

Aelin straightened as his gaze dipped over her and she was now damning the situation she found herself in. How was she supposed to flirt with this man when she was meant to be escorting a lonely lawyer around?

Unknowing about her internal crisis this god amongst men started walking over towards her, and Aelin tried not to cry over the fact that she would have to turn him down. Because despite his silver hair, he wasn’t old. In fact if Aelin had to hazard a guess he’d be 30—if that. His silver hair…

What if… no.

Aelin warred with herself, could this be him? Could this incredibly hot and not old man be her desperate lawyer? Was this the right guy?

He got closer and closer, not deterred by anything and he stopped right in front of her. “Celaena?”

Blinking twice, Aelin had to force her mind to jump start. “Rowan Whitethorn?”

When he nodded, the relief that went through her almost had her swaying in her heels. He wasn’t old. “I thought you might have stood me up.”

A boyish kind of embarrassment lit up his face. “I got distracted by work. That’s not unusual.”

“I see,” Aelin said. A desperate workaholic it was then.

Then just like that, he tugged at the hem of his jacket becoming a polished business man. Rowan extended his arm, the music and the lights of the gala beckoning. “Shall we?”

Aelin slipped her phone back into her sleek, black clutch and took up Rowan’s offer. “Lead the way.”

If this man and this party were to be her introduction into the world of being a sugar baby, Aelin wasn’t at all disappointed.

~~~~~

The evening was a complete success and full of surprises. Rowan didn’t know what to expect when it came to his date, but she was utterly charming and stunningly beautiful, and she managed to play the part perfectly. She smiled and chatted away, making up for Rowan’s lack of social finesse. What she was very good at was managing to steer conversations away from getting too personal. They knew next to nothing about each other, things could have gotten awkward very rapidly if not for her quick and distracting wit.

It was hard not to be drawn to her, to be enchanted by her. The dress she wore… it had nearly stunned him into silence. It was sexy, but also reserved enough that it wasn’t the wrong side of indecent. If that exact shade of green wasn’t already his favourite colour, after tonight it sure as hell would be. Celaena had a classic beauty, and she moved and spoke with admirable confidence. The unique hue of her eyes was startling and it was hard to look away.

On top of all that Celeana also had a wicked sense of humour and he was at risk losing his hard bastard reputation just from the sheer amount of times he’d found himself laughing at something she had said. She was a life saver. Having her there not only allowed him entry to the event, but also let him do all the elbow rubbing he possibly could with the directing manager of Forest Fae Toys and Games with the added bonus of some harmless flirting. She knew how to play the game and it was a relief that Rowan didn’t have to do all the work. He was in with a shot now thanks to his contracted help. This woman was well worth the money.

That thought was jarring and highlighted the ridiculous fact that Rowan had to resort to such lengths. But at the same time it had been so easy and Celaena had been more than lovely company. If he was being honest with himself, he’d like to see her again, and not necessarily in a paid for capacity. It was unfortunate that they had to meet under these circumstances, it just made things awkward for him going forward.

The uncomfortable truth of it was that Rowan was lonely. He’d forgotten how nice it was to spend time with a pretty woman outside the capacity of work. And it was almost like they had skipped a step here. Because of the pretence and expectations they had glossed over all the tension that came with being strangers. There were just less expectations and that made Rowan feel like he could relax. Socialising had never been something he’d been good at,, and it seemed Aelin had more than enough to make up for the skills he was lacking. He would very much like to see her again, but from what he understood, that decision was entirely up to her.

“I have one question before I go,” Aelin said when they were out on the street and waiting for the car he had ordered for her. Once they had left the gala they’d moved a healthy distance apart and even though it was silly for Rowan to miss her closeness, he did.

“What is it?” Rowan asked, curious as to what mischief that she was up to.

She raised a hand gesturing at his hair. “Is this a fashion choice?”

That was not what he was expecting, Celaena had surprised him again and it made him let out a soft chuckle. “Genetic. Runs in the family.”

She laughed, and shook her head. “Your profile picture was so bad that I thought you were some old guy who couldn’t get a date.”

“Well,” Rowan said, resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck, “that’s only half true.”

She laughed again and the sound of it went straight to his gut. Her bright eyes stayed on the top of his head while she said. “Well, Rowan Whitethorn. My bank account thanks you.”

“You’ve saved me in more ways than one,” Rowan admitted.

The car pulled up and Celaena and the driver swapped confirmations before she turned back to him. “Goodnight then, Mr Whitethorn.”

He didn’t know why she called him that, but he didn’t exactly hate it. “You have a good night as well.”

Celaena flashed him one last smile before she ducked into the car. Seated inside, she leant forward and gave him a final wave and then she was gone. Rowan went back into the hotel foyer to use the elevator to get to the underground parking lot. His silver sedan was waiting for him, the colour now making him smirk. Climbing into the driver’s seat he was more than ready to call it a night.

Not bothering to plug his phone in, Rowan turned on the radio and then immediately tuned it out to fuzzy background noise. He was too busy thinking about Celaena to listen to the music or the words. It was unfair that they had to meet like this, it really didn’t give them a chance for anything more. And Rowan had specified he was only after a one time thing. He’d damned himself from the start.

Rowan was home before he knew, the streets of the city not all that busy this late at night. Tapping the dongle on his keys he pushed the button for his penthouse apartment. He had never bought it for pretentious reasons, he had loved the view if provided over the rest of the city—all the way out to the ruins that skirted the northern edges of it. His tie was the first thing to go, and then his jacket, next he was fishing his phone out of his trouser pocket and froze.

There was a notification on his screen, and if he had connected his phone like he usually did he might have pulled over wherever he was to tend to it. It had some from Sweet as Sugar and it kept up with the habit of being direct and succinct.

Celaena would like to spend more time with you. Yes or no?

Rowan unlocked his phone and he didn’t know if he’d ever replied to message that fast in his life. He even managed to accidentally scroll up in his efforts to send it a reply because his thumb had slipped in his eagerness. Because he very much had his one resounding answer.

Yes.

~~~~~

Posting from my phone so it might get another edit. @rowaelinscourt

[leiawritesstories]

Lights, Camera, Yulemas!

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

Word count: 2,865

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

Enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes?"

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

"Of course!"

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

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

~

Chaos.

Everything was chaos.

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

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

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

"That's me."

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

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

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

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

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

Not like she was ogling the man.

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

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

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

"Fine," he bit out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

How the hell was he going to make it through?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hell.

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

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

He whirled around. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

Oh, and he was conveniently shirtless.

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

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

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

"Awful," he muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted to kiss her properly.

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

What the hell was wrong with him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

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

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

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

[llyncooljones]

call me sir - twelve days of rowaelin '22.

ao3 || masterlist || twelve days of rowaelin ‘22 masterlist

prompt: christmas activity gone wrong. series: part two to who is he? word count: 1300 trigger warnings: language, smut, sexting tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp  @fireheartwhitethorn4ever @elentiyawhitethorn @rowanaelinn @autumnbabylon @leiawritesstories @backtobl4ck  @letstakethedawn @rowaelinscourt

hi.

this is aelin. galathynius.

from the xmas fair. last week, at the weekend. and you overheard me, and i bumped into you?

Hi.

This is Rowan.

From the Christmas Fair. And I knew it was you, you’re literally the only person I’ve given my number to in the last year. Plus, I don’t know many Aelins. No need for awkward introductions—a pet peeve of mine.

well, good to know you gave me the right number, lol. was kinda worrying abt it. couldn’t believe you’d actually wanna get to know someone who was plotting an entire book to have an excuse to go up to you.

figured you might like brave girls, or some shit.

Not to be crude, but I do believe that openly, and really quite loudly, discussing the frequency and quality of dick you and your friend were getting was quite brave. As was discussing the size of my dick, and my possible friend’s dick sizes.

I don’t know anyone else who’s quite brave enough to do such a thing.

You have that going for yourself.

what i’m hearing is that you do like brave girls.

what does ‘at least you’ve got that going for yourself’ mean? i’ve got tons going for me.

No. I like girls with blonde hair, the most unique eyes I’ve ever had the pleasure of staring into, who come up to my chin. And for the record, you’ve got everything going for yourself. You are singlehandedly just everything.

Don’t go fishing for compliments. I know that you know that you’re fucking gorgeous. Don’t play games with me—I won’t play nice, nor fair.

i’ve come to realise you won't play nice or fair.

i’ve now learnt my lesson, teach.

and thank you for the compliments.

i get off on them.

If I’m going to be your teacher, and I’m going to have to teach you your lesson, you will refer to me as ‘sir’. That is, if you’re game?

I could have sworn it was big men, big hands, and big dicks you got off on. Not compliments. correct me if wrong of course.

maybe you will have to teach me my lesson. sir.

and of fucking course i’m game, didn’t you overhear me saying that i was a spoilt rich girl with a secretly traumatic past. if that means anything, sir, it means i’ve been having teacher x student fantasies since i was fifteen. sir.

i get off on all sorts of things—part of being a spoilt rich girl with a secretly traumatic past. we always have the craziest kinks. compliments and praise because my parents neglected me. similarly, some sort of teacher fetish. big men, big hands, big dicks—because we feel like they can protect us, keep us safe, complete us, which has previously never been felt by us before.

and so many more—you’ve barely scratched the surface, sir.

I can hear your evil laughter, Aelin, and I’ve never heard you laugh.

I’m always up for being your senior-year English teacher, call me Mr Whitethorn.

And trust me, I look forward to diving into the very depths of your sexual deviancy.

mr whitethorn. i like it.

you would’ve been a hit at my high school—so many spoilt rich girls with secretly traumatic pasts.

and, sir, it makes me wet when you use phrases like ‘sexual deviancy’

It gets me fucking rock hard when you call me Sir, or Mr Whitethorn. you have no idea how so.

in that case…

mr whitethorn? what’s today’s lesson on?

I think apt place to begin your education, would be with one’s own pleasure. In my experience, people put so much pressure on the idea of perfection when it comes to sex, and such acts between two people. So much so that the pleasure is slowly stripped away, and replaced with worries that won’t stop, creating a wall between yourself, and your pleasure.

Today, I’m going to focus our lesson on touch yourself, Aelin.

and what are you going to teach me, that i don’t already know? I’m in my twenties, I’ve gone to college, and i’ve been coming by my own fingers since i was fifteen. (clearly there is a correlation between teachers and me coming)

plus, and I mean this with the utmost respect, what are you—a man—going to me—a woman—about my body—a woman’s body—mr whitethorn.

If you want to doubt me, go right ahead, but know Miss Galathynius, it’s not what I can teach you, it’s what I can do to you.

I recall my language making you wet, I can’t teach you that. I can do it to you though, I can make you wet when I use long, sophisticated words, confuse you a little. Make you feel both insecure, and so very, very safe. I can manipulate your body simply with typed words.

You’d do well to remember that.

sir?

mr whitethorn?

excuse me, i’m texting you. where the fuck are you? are you fucking kidding me, right now?

Are you ready to apologise, Miss Galathynius?

for fucking what? get real.

For making assumptions about me. You seem to be under the impression that you can get away with being rude to me. You can’t, I’m unlike any teacher you’ve encountered before.

And you ‘get real’, Miss Galathynius. You can try and convince yourself that you aren’t soaking through your panties, you’re so turned on. But I know you are. You can tell yourself you aren’t going to touch yourself when you set down your phone. But I know you are.

I’ll make a deal with you, Miss Galathynius, if you message me how wet you are, and whether or not your fingers are too, I’ll continue the lesson. We’ll forget all about the fact that you swore at me no less, and that you were insolent and bratty, and you can come as many times as want during this text chain, but not afterwards.

You understand?

yes, sir.

my panties are so wet, my skirt is too.

and my fingers are fucking coated.

Take your panties off.

In fact, Miss Galathynius, get naked. Lock the door. Get comfortable. Tell me, ‘yes, Sir’ when you’re done.

yes, sir.

Put your fingers—the wet ones, before you ask—in your mouth. Fucking suck on them.

Have you got your fingers in your mouth, can you taste yourself? Fucking wish I could taste you.

yes.

what about you, sir?

You can bet your life on the fact that I’m touching myself.

That got you hotter, wetter. More desperate. Want me there, don’t you? I want you here.

im close. keep telling me what ur gonna do

You want to know what I’d do to you if I had you in my bed? I’d strip you, peel away every scrap of clothing you had on, until I could see every inch of your skin, until I can mark out every blemish with bite marks.

I’d bite your nipples, soothe them with my tongue, and then I’d bite them harder. Harder until you’re screaming, and I won’t know if it’s in pain or pleasure. Maybe I’d make them bleed. All depends on whether or not you were a good girl.

It would have got you wet, you’d be dripping all over my sheets. Your cunt would be throbbing it’d be so desperate for me. I’d treat it to a lick, lave my tongue over your clit, edging you towards your orgasm. When you’re right there I’d slide a finger in, tease you from the inside, and give you the best orgasm of your life.

And then I’d do it all over again.

holy fuck. oh fuck, i just came so hard.

fucking what?

i literally messaged you to ask if you wanted to grab a hot chocolate or something or see if you were available for a date or something. pre-dorian’s party.

And instead, you got this, huh? Regretting it, yet?

that was arguably the best orgasm i’ve ever had—and we’re in different postcodes. so, no. and i don’t think i’ll ever regret this.

And I’d love to grab a drink with you.

#twelve days of rowaelin #12 days of rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin #llyncooljones' writing #my fic #my writing #my smut #tog #tog fic #throne of glass #throne of glass fic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #wih? #who is he?

[golden-kingdom]

And the Season Feels New to Me Because You're Here - Part 1

Written for the 12 Days of Rowaelin: First Holiday Season Together (@rowaelinscourt)

Summary: A month before Christmas, rich hotel heiress Aelin Ashryver Galathynius is running away from her future after a fight with her father and hides at a resort in the Staghorn Mountains. When she has a ski accident and hits her head, she loses her memory and nobody knows who she is. Rowan Whitethorn is a widower who owns a small inn in town and father to 6-year-old Thalia. When, after much insistence from his daughter, Rowan offers Aelin a place to stay, the two have to spend time together against their will. Rowan cannot stand spoiled and self-centered Aelin, and Aelin hates how cold and guarded Rowan is. Thalia thinks it would take a Christmas miracle for them to finally get along.

Inspired by Falling for Christmas (2022)

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: None

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

She was sitting in a cozy living room. There was a fireplace burning bright, plunging the room in shades of warm orange. Snow was falling outside the windows. There was a beautiful blonde woman smiling at her. She looked like an angel. Her turquoise eyes lined with gold crinkled when she laughed at something. Her laugh was soft and musical. She was speaking to her, but she couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. The woman sat behind her and started brushing her hair slowly. There was tenderness and love in the movement. As the woman ran the brush through her hair, she felt at peace. Like everything was alright in the world and nothing could hurt her…

"Miss?"

There was someone calling her, but she didn’t want to leave this place. She wanted to stay with the golden-haired woman.

"Miss?"

Aelin startled awake from her dream and opened her eyes. There was a middle-aged woman standing next to her looking at her expectantly. She took in her surroundings, trying to figure out where she was.

"I’m sorry I didn’t want to wake you up, but we’re gonna land soon," said the woman she now recognized as a flight attendant.

"Thank you," Aelin replied with a groggy voice. The woman nodded and left.

Aelin yawned and stretched her limbs. She looked through the small airplane window and saw the Staghorn Mountains standing high, their peaks covered in snow. Aelin was from Orynth, the capital of Terrassen, so she was used to the view of the mountains and the snow every winter. But from up here, it looked different than in the city. More peaceful and quiet. Like nothing could affect her. Here in the air, high above the mountains, she wasn’t the heiress of Galathynius Hotels & Resorts, the biggest hotel chain on the continent, she was just Aelin. And she liked it.

The peace she was feeling vanished instantly when she remembered why she was on this plane in the first place. She had a fight with her father. He wanted her to take on more responsibilities with the company. He wanted her to be the future of the Galathynius hotels. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. She didn’t know how to tell him that she had no interest in the hotel business. At 26, Aelin still didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life, but she knew exactly what she didn’t want to do. Business meetings, schmoozing with possible investors, new ventures, wearing a suit every day, merges, being only recognized for her name… That wasn’t what she had in mind when she thought of her future.

After the argument with her father, she had decided to run away to a ski resort in the Staghorns for a few days. She needed to get away from her life for a while and think. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going, not even her cousin Aedion who was like a brother to her. He wouldn’t understand. He was the pride and joy of her father Rhoe. Aedion had always wanted to work for the company. As soon as he got his MBA from Adarlan University, he started working for Rhoe and he had only advanced in the company ever since. He took his role very seriously. No, he definitely wouldn’t have understood how she felt.

The plane landed and she got out, carrying her luggage. She needed to find a taxi. Normally, she would have had a chauffeur waiting for her, but since she didn’t warn anyone she was coming, she was stuck taking a cab. She told the driver the name of the ski resort and he drove off. She looked around at the small town she had landed in, Summit Springs. It was a far cry from the skyscrapers, luxury, and busy streets of Orynth, but it was charming in a simple way she guessed. Christmas was coming in four weeks and people had started putting lights on their houses and decorations on their front yards. It was a lovely sight in the dark of the night.

After a drive that led them away from the town and further into the mountains, she finally arrived at the ski resort. The driver helped her get her luggage out of the trunk and a porter quickly arrived to pick them up. She paid the driver and entered the resort’s reception. She smiled at the sight. She had come here once before to celebrate Christmas with her family when she was about eight years old, and she had fond memories of the place. She walked towards the reception desk.

"Hi and welcome to Staghorn Mountains resort. Do you have a reservation?" asked a kind-looking woman.

"Yes, I do. It’s under the name of Lilian Gordaina."

Aelin had decided it was better to use an alias to not be recognized. She wanted to be someone else than Aelin Ashryver Galathynius and everything that came with that name for a few days.

"Ah, yes. Your suite is ready, Miss Gordaina. Here’s your key. Luca here will help you with your luggage and show you to your room. We hope you have an excellent stay at Staghorn Mountains resort. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask for it. We want you to have the most enjoyable experience while you’re here," said the receptionist with a sweet smile.

Aelin quickly thanked her and followed the porter to the elevator. When they got to the fourth floor, he showed her to her room and carried her luggage inside. He put it down in front of the massive bed.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Gordaina?" he asked. He looked young, probably no older than 20. But he did his job well.

"Actually, yes. I’d like to have a bottle of champagne brought to my room please. And you can bring whatever was on the chef’s menu tonight, I haven’t eaten yet and I’m famished. Please take note that I don’t eat pork though," she replied.

"Of course. We will bring this to you as soon as possible."

He exited the room and Aelin laid on the bed, sighing contentedly. She had almost fallen asleep when a knock was heard at the door. Luca was back with a rolling tray. There was a bottle of champagne and a warm meal that smelled delicious on it. He set everything on the table of her suite, opened the bottle of champagne and poured her a glass. She thanked him as he left again.

She took a sip of champagne, enjoying the bubbles on her tongue, and started eating her meal. She hadn’t lied when she said she was famished and this was very good. After she was done eating, she ran herself a bath with scented oils and bubbles. The bathtub was big enough for three of her. She got inside and relished in the warmth. She laid there in the water for a few minutes, not thinking about anything, and sipping champagne in the calming silence. When she had finished the whole bottle, she washed herself and got out. She wrapped her naked body in a big fluffy towel. Once she was dry, she went to her luggage and took out a dark blue silk nightgown and a robe that matched. She put it on and got into the bed, appreciating the comfort of the pillows and the softness of the sheets. It only took her a few minutes to fall asleep.

…

The next day, she woke up late. She liked sleeping in and waking up when the sun was already up in the sky. As she ordered breakfast through room service, she decided that she wanted to ski today. After getting dressed in a top-of-the-line ski coat and pants, she left for the slopes.

She wasn’t really into sports, but she loved skiing. It made her feel free and she liked the rush of it. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the snow was perfect for skiing. She made her way up and down the slopes a few times, taken in the view in front of her. She could almost see Orynth in the distance. It was a good decision to come here she thought to herself.

As she was gliding down the slope with agility, she suddenly felt a patch of ice she hadn’t noticed. She tried to come to a stop but she slipped and lost control of her skis. She fell forward and felt her body roll down the hill until she hit a tree with a loud thump and the world went completely dark.

…

Rowan Whitethorn was not having a good day. Another thing had broken down at the lodge and he had to repair it. It seemed like that’s all he was doing recently, repairing stuff. It felt like the place was falling apart, and with less and less guests coming every year, he couldn’t afford to renovate the North Star. People now preferred Airbnb and luxurious hotels over simple bed and breakfast like his own. They also tended to travel to bigger cities than Summit Springs.

He had a hard time making ends meet lately. He was lucky to have good friends to help him take care of the place, but what he really needed was money. He had already gone to the bank to get another loan, but they had rejected his request when they looked into the lodge’s accounts. They said he didn’t make enough profit at the moment for them to take a risk on his business. He was at an impasse, and he didn’t know what to do.

As he was finishing repairing what had broken down, his phone started ringing. It wasn’t from a number he knew.

"Hello?" he asked hesitantly.

"Hi, am I speaking with Thalia Whitethorn’s father?" said a voice he didn’t recognize.

Immediately, he started to fear the worst.

"Yes. Is something wrong with her?" he asked with a concerned voice.

"I’m calling you to inform you that Thalia had an accident at school earlier and was brought here to Summit Springs’ hospital."

"What happened? Is she okay?!" he asked, dread taking over him.

"She’s fine right now, but we need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible."

"I’m on my way," he said and hung up, not even bothering to say goodbye.

If something had happened to his daughter, he would never forgive himself. He was supposed to protect her and keep her safe. That was his role as her father. He couldn’t fail her when he was the only thing she had in this world. His mind was running a mile a minute. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and called his friend Lorcan to come oversee the lodge while he was gone. He didn’t even wait for him to arrive, he just got into his truck and left. He sped up on the way to the hospital. The last thing he wanted was to get a ticket, but he couldn’t help himself. He just wanted to get to his daughter as quickly as possible. When he finally arrived at the hospital, he parked his truck and ran inside.

"I’m here to see Thalia Whitethorn. I’m her father," he said, out of breath.

"Oh right, she’s in room 9. This way. She’s waiting for you," said the woman at the reception, pointing towards a corridor.

He thanked her and went the way she had indicated, looking at the number on the doors until he reached number 9.

…

Aelin was feeling terrible. Her head was hurting, and she was in pain all over her body. She tried opening her eyes but closed them as soon as she did. Who had decided to turn on the light so bright? Her head was pounding in her ears. She tried to listen to figure out where she was, but all she was hearing the constant annoying beeping of a machine. She took a deep breath and braced herself, opening her eyes again. The light still hurt her eyes, but it was more bearable this time. She looked around and realized she was laying in bed in what looked like a hospital room.

"Are you awake?" asked a child voice coming from her left.

She turned her head, hissing at the pain, and saw a young girl with brown hair and deep green eyes looking at her with interest from the bed next to her. She looked around five or six years old.

"Where are we?" Aelin asked the girl, trying to make sense of the situation she was in.

"At Summit Springs’ hospital," she replied, and that’s when Aelin noticed the cast on her right arm.

"I have no idea where that is," Aelin admitted, confused.

A woman in a white coat appeared inside the room. A doctor. Good. She would have answers to her questions.

"You’re finally awake," the doctor said.

"What happened? Where am I?" she asked in one breath.

"Calm down, please. We don’t want you hurting your head further," said the woman while checking out her vitals. She continued: "You had a ski accident and hit your head on a tree. Mountain rescue found you and brought you here at Summit Springs’ hospital. You were out for about three hours," she said in a gentle voice.

"I don’t remember having a ski accident," Aelin said, puzzled.

"You have a mild concussion. It’s normal to be a bit disoriented when you wake up."

She seemed pleased with her vitals and sat down next to Aelin. 

"I’m gonna ask you a few questions now. I need you to answer them to the best of your ability, okay?"

Aelin nodded her agreement and the doctor resumed.

"Do you know who you are?" she asked kindly.

Aelin snorted at that. Of course, she knew who she was, she wasn’t some lunatic.

"Yes, I’m-" she started answering, but she stopped when she realized she didn’t know. What was happening to her? She tried to remember, but everything was slipping away from her.

"Do you remember your name?"

"It’s…" she started again but paused to think.

What was her name? She couldn’t remember. It seemed like she was trying to grasp at some distant memory, but it got away every time she came close to it. Her whole mind felt empty, like a blank slate.

"Do you know where you are?" the doctor continued.

"Summit Springs’ hospital, you just said it," Aelin replied, exasperated.

"Yes, but do you know where that is?" the doctor insisted.

She couldn’t answer that either. She had never heard this name. The confusion must have been written on her face because the woman said: "What do you remember? Take your time to think. Maybe you remember a date, a person, or a childhood memory?"

She thought hard, her head aching like hell, but nothing was coming up in her mind.

"I don’t remember… anything. Why don’t I remember anything?" she said in a small voice.

"When you hit your head on that tree, you suffered a trauma to the brain. I believe that because of that you’re experiencing retrograde amnesia, which means you can’t remember anything that happened before the ski accident," the woman said seriously.

"Is that permanent?" she asked the doctor. She was starting to feel the panic rise in her chest.

"Every case of amnesia is different. A lot of people after an accident like yours recover their memory eventually. But there’s no set time for this. Every case is different. I’m sorry, I know it’s not what you wanted to hear. And I understand it’s scary and confusing, but I’m here to answer your questions and help you through this.”

"Will I remember normal things though? Like how to eat?"

"Yes, this is what we call procedural memory. And that shouldn’t be affected because those memories are stored somewhere else in the brain. You should be able to live a relatively normal life."

Yeah, a very normal life with no memory of who she was, she thought.

"Listen, I will go do some check-ups and I will be back. I will give you a few minutes to process this. Is that okay with you?" the doctor said.

Aelin nodded. It’s not like she had anywhere to run off to. The doctor left, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"So, you don’t remember anything at all?" asked the girl next to her with curiosity in her eyes.

"It seems so," Aelin replied, opening her eyes.

"That’s a bummer. But, hey, at least you won’t have to do your homework," she said with an encouraging smile.

The situation was anything but funny, but Aelin couldn’t help but laugh at that. And then proceeded to groan because of the pain in her head.

The door opened and a tall broad-shouldered man with short silver hair, tan skin and the same green eyes as the girl walked in. He looked on the verge of panic.

"Thalia!" he exclaimed as he ran to the girl’s bed.

He hugged her, wrapping her tight in his arms and not letting her go.

"You’re crushing me, daddy," she complained with a laugh.

"I’m sorry. I was so worried, sunshine. Are you okay? What happened?"

"I was playing with Freya and Millie and they said I wouldn’t jump from a huge mound of snow because I was a chicken. I’m not a chicken so I jumped but I hurt my arm. It was really painful and scary, but the nice doctor fixed it and put my arm in a cass and I’m all okay," the girl said as if it was no big deal.

The man exhaled. He seemed to relax a bit, but he was still tense.

"I’m glad you’re okay. But you gotta promise me to never do something dangerous like this again, even if your friends dare you. I don’t want you to hurt yourself again. Do you understand?" he said in a serious tone.

"Yes, I pinky-promise," she replied, holding out her finger. The man linked his own pinky finger with her infinitely smaller one.

"And remind me to have a talk with Freya and Millie’s parents," he added.

"Daddy, do you think my friends at school can sign my cass? I saw it on TV. Please," the girl pleaded with puppy eyes.

Before he could reply, the female doctor from earlier walked back in.

"Mr. Whitethorn?"

"Yes?"

"I’m glad you could make it this fast. Thalia here broke her radius in her forearm. We were able to fix it and then immobilize it with a cast. She will have to keep it for at least four weeks, but she should regain full mobility afterwards."

"Thank you, doctor," he said, relieved.

"I will be back with more information on how to take care of her cast, but I need to see my other patient first."

"Of course, take your time. I’m just thankful my daughter is alright."

The doctor walked over to Aelin’s bed and looked at her with worry.

"How are you feeling?" she asked

"My head is killing me," replied Aelin with a whine.

"That’s normal. It should subside in the next few hours. We gave you pain medication, but I’ll tell them to increase the dosage. But I meant, how are you feeling about what I told you? Do you have any question about your amnesia?"

"To be honest, I don’t know how I feel about all of this... But can I leave now?"

"I’m very sorry, but we weren’t able to locate any family or friends nor find out who you are. We checked the clothes you were wearing when you came in but didn’t find any IDs or phone. You’re gonna have to stay in the hospital until someone comes looking for you or you regain your memories, I’m afraid," the woman replied with a frown.

"What do you mean, stay in the hospital? Am I being detained?" Aelin asked indignantly.

"No, you’re free to leave, but you currently have no identity, no money and no place to go. I’m sorry but it’s best if you stay here for now."

Aelin felt tears pool in her eyes.

"But I don’t wanna stay here. I wanna go home," she said in small voice.

Rowan, by his daughter’s bedside, had heard the whole exchange. He wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but they were right next to him. Thalia pulled at his coat, trying to grab his attention. He looked down at her.

"Daddy, can the lady who doesn’t remember anything come stay with us? She has nowhere to go and she’s very sad," asked Thalia in a hopeful voice.

Rowan was about to answer with an adamant no, but he saw the hope in Thalia’s big green eyes, and he heard the woman full-on crying by now. He took pity on her.

"Alright, kiddo. We can ask her. But if she says no, you need to respect her wishes."

Thalia gestured that she understood. Rowan approached the other bed slowly, not wanting to frighten the woman.

"Miss?" he asked.

She looked up at him, embarrassed by someone else seeing her crying.

"You could come stay with us. I own a lodge in town and there are plenty of spare rooms right now."

"That’s such a great idea. Thank you, Mr. Whitethorn, this is very kind of you to offer," said the doctor immediately.

Aelin wasn’t so sure about it.

"And who are you exactly?" she asked skeptically.

"I’m Rowan Whitethorn. Like I said I’m the owner of the North Star lodge here in town."

"How do I know this isn’t a trap to murder me?" Aelin asked in a serious tone.

Rowan snorted.

"Mr. Whitethorn over here has owned the North Star lodge for years. You can trust him, he’s a good man. I think it would be a good idea for you to get out of the hospital," stated the doctor.

"Is there room service?" Aelin enquired.

"It’s more of a bed and breakfast type of place," Rowan replied, rubbing the back of his head.

Aelin sighed loudly at that.

"On second thought, she’s probably better to stay here," said Rowan, exasperation in his voice.

Aelin was about to agree, but the doctor insisted.

"It will be good for you to live in a regular environment. It’s better than staying here. And maybe re-establishing a normal routine of activity will help you remember."

Aelin looked at the child in the bed next to her who was giving her a big hopeful smile.

"Okay, I’ll go," she said, smiling back at the young girl and ignoring the man.

…

"So, what am I supposed to call you?" asked Thalia.

They had left the hospital a few minutes ago, after the doctor had repeated at least four times that they were to call the hospital if there was anything wrong. They were driving through Summit Springs in Rowan’s truck, Aelin sitting passenger side. She turned around to look at the girl in the backseat. The pain medication the doctor had given her must be working because her head didn’t hurt as much anymore.

"Good question. I don’t know," she replied to child. "Are there any names you love?"

"You can have the name of one of my dolls. They’re called Vesta, Celaena and Petrah."

Aelin heard Rowan snicker next to her. She ignored him.

"I like Celaena," she said after thinking about it. "You can call me that."

Thalia gave her a toothy smile, agreeing with her choice.

After a few minutes, they arrived at the lodge. Its size was modest, it looked more like a very large home than an hotel. The North Star’s walls were made of pale stonework and the brown slate roof was covered in snow. There were two wrought iron balconies hanging from the second floor. In the past, the place might have been called quaint and romantic, but now it looked worn by the time. It wasn’t that it was ugly, it had its own unique rustic charm, but the place could definitely use a few renovations. It had been covered in Christmas lights for the season.

Aelin followed Rowan and Thalia inside. The little girl immediately ran up the wooden stairs and disappeared in what Aelin guessed was her bedroom. The inside of the lodge was not faring much better than the outside. The cream walls desperately needed a coat of paint, and the floor was used by the years. There was a small reception desk to the right and to the left was a cozy-looking lounge with a fireplace and sofas in a faded color. Most of the furniture was made of some type of mahogany wood, but a lot of it was damaged with scratches.

Aelin had stopped to look around and hadn’t noticed Rowan had left until he came back with what looked like a pile of clothes in his hands. He stood in front of her.

"These are clothes from the lost and found. This weekend, I’ll go to the store for you, but for now, these will have to do."

Aelin gave him an offended look.

"Have they been… worn before?"

"They were left behind by guests, so probably, yes," he replied, frustrated.

She gave him a look that meant she’d rather burn them, but she took them anyway. 

"And here are some essentials for tonight," he said as he handed her a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a hairbrush. "You’ll have to make me a list of what you’ll need. There are fresh towels, shampoo and soap in the bathroom of your room."

She stayed quiet, taking the things he handed her.

"Well, I guess I’ll show you to your room," he said to break the awkward silence.

Rowan walked up the stairs and Aelin followed along. He led her to a room on the opposite side of where Thalia had gone. He opened the door and waited for her to enter.

"This is it. I’m gonna head to bed because I have to wake up early tomorrow. If there’s an emergency, my room is on the other side. It’s the one at the end of the corridor."

She nodded and he left her alone in the room. She took a shower and brushed her teeth. Then she looked through the clothes Rowan had given her and found a long sleeping gown made of flannel. Great, she would look like a granny in this. She put it on nevertheless and got into bed. Finally on her own, she had the time to take in what happened to her. She muffled a sob and warm tears wet her pillow. She cried for long minutes, but eventually, she stopped and fell asleep.

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[writtenonreceipts]

For 12 Days of Rowaelin, I have some ideas of what to do for a few of the days, but am wondering if there's any of my Rowaelin fics you'd like to see a follow up to? Or another idea you'd like to see me write/work into one of the prompts?

#question to the followers #fanfic #rowaelin #12 days of rowaelin

[live-the-fangirl-life]

How to Wreck a Sleigh

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

Rowan Whitethorn, an elf, reluctantly finds himself in league with Aelin Galathynius, a human, when she appears at the North Pole. Because nothing ever goes to plan.

* Written for 12 Days of Rowaelin: How to Destroy a Sleigh in 3 Steps

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Wintery Collection | 12 Days of Rowaelin

2438 words

*******

Rowan Whitethorn’s day had not gone how he planned.

With only a week before Christmas, the whole of Santa’s Village was bustling with elves on their way to the Workshops or the Bakery as others headed towards Wishlist Watch or the Stables. He could barely cross Saint Nicholas Square without spilling his hot chocolate.

They were in crunch-mode, and there was still so much to get done.

He was going to go to his station in the Gift-Wrapping Emporium, where he would spend his morning wrapping as many toy swords and stuffed animals as he could. Then, he was going to go listen to the Solstice Singers caroling group perform in the Square.

He was going to end his day by sitting in the Snow Globe Sanctuary to watch the northern lights streak across the sky through the high, glass-paned walls.

What he was absolutely, indisputably not going to do, was find a human wandering around in the Elvish Aisle, agree to help them despite neither having a clue of how she'd gotten there in the first place, steal a sleigh, and crash-land said sleigh into some human’s roof.

That was not his plan.

But, if the Great Figgy Pudding Fiasco taught him anything, it was that things rarely went to plan. And that Polar bears really, really like figgy pudding.

The wind whipped through his hair, and he blinked hard against the cold gusts as the sleigh dipped in disjointed jerks. Clouds became fog; fog became rows of houses lined up beneath them, getting closer with every impending second.

“No! No, up, up!” Rowan tugged hard on the reigns, the muscles in his arms straining with the effort, but he was no match for a team of trained reindeer determined to land. “Wait! Stop!”

The crash was inevitable.

Squeezing his eyes shut, his teeth slammed together as every bone in his body was jarred and ringing. Plumes of displaced snow fell around him in the wake of the collision as Rowan reopened his eyes. His heart was beating nearly out of his chest, his breathing coming heavy; the adrenaline, panic, and physical ache had him in a stunned stupor.

With a mental check over himself, he decided that could’ve been a lot worse. Dropping the reigns, he turned around and peered over the seat to look in the back of the sleigh.

“Still alive back there?”

A head of golden hair popped up from beneath a candy-cane patterned blanket that must've fallen loose during their landing. The woman was breathing harder than he was and met his gaze with wide, incredulous eyes.

“Who taught you how to drive this thing?” she groaned with an almost delirious laugh and rubbed a spot on the back of her head. “That. Was. Awful.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, huffing, before getting out of the sleigh to find his footing on the roof. “Don’t be dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.”

He leaned against the side and crossed his arms as Aelin heaved herself out to stand next to him. Then she pointed sharply down to the ground below where half a dozen shingles lay fallen in the snow.

“You crash-landed us.” She said irritatingly slowly as if he hadn’t been in the sleigh with her and kept pointing. “Those are part of the roof; they should be up here,” she stomped her foot which sent another puff of snow up before gesturing to herself. “And I should be down there.”

“You want to go down there? Be my guest.” He interrupted dryly. “I’m pretty sure you’re still a long way from home. Good luck with that.”

She glared and kept talking like he hadn’t said anything. “On the ground. Where I won't be killed by any insane elves who never, ever should be allowed to drive – fly – ever.

The man boredly looking down at her was the furthest thing from a Christmas elf as Aelin could have ever pictured. She always thought of elves as short, cheerful, fantastical creatures who spent their days making toys. She had a bone to pick with whoever designed the whole elf persona in movies and television shows.

The several inches he had over her meant she had to crane her neck back to look him in the eye, not exactly one of Santa’s little helpers. And the knitted green fabric that stretched across his arms, pulled taught as he crossed them over his chest, made her wonder what sort of workout regimen elves committed themselves to. Or if that was just him and she lucked out on which elf she stumbled into that morning.

Rolling his eyes again – they would get stuck like that if he did it some more – Rowan spun around and didn’t pay her a second look as he told her, “You’re fine.”

Oh, and he was absolutely not the nice, cheerful personality she was prepared for.

He ducked between the two lines of reindeer to look at the damage to the front of the sleigh. Part of the landing gear was splintered and the shiny red paint was chipped and scratched from where it first nosedived into the roof. He walked around the opposite side of the sleigh and prodded with the controls before climbing back out to stand next to her.

Aelin had been silently watching his inspection and waiting for him to say something. Her breath was coming out in white puffs of air, and it annoyed her that Rowan looked completely unperturbed by the chill. She supposed he would be used to it at the North Pole, but his lack of discomfort did not make her feel better.

He still hadn’t said anything. When she opened her mouth to question him, Rowan grumbled, “The directional calibrators are jammed, It's not going to be telling us where to fly anytime soon.”

“Huh.” Aelin wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but she did have one method for fixing broken things. She swung her leg back and kicked the side of the sleigh.

“What are you doing?” Rowan whirled on her in disbelief. “Don’t hit it, that never works.”

She didn’t say her method was effective. Arching a brow, she asked, “Have you ever fixed a damaged sleigh?”

There was a pause before he reluctantly admitted, “No.”

“Then how do you know it won’t work?”

She lifted her foot to kick it again, but Rowan grabbed her arm and pulled out of leg’s reach. “Oh, for fiddlesticks,” he cursed. “Stop that!”

Aelin wrenched her arm from his grasp but nodded. “Okay, okay, okay,” she muttered to herself, barely able to keep her head straight through the day’s events.

She had woken up in the snow without any idea of how or why. Her first thought was that she’d had one too many cups of eggnog the night before, but when she sat up and looked around, instead of being on someone’s lawn, she had woken up in the middle of a forest filled with pine and fir trees. Her day had gotten a million times weirder when the first person she had seen had snowy silver hair and pointed ears and then had looked at her like she was the crazy one when she'd asked him where she was.

Aelin still wasn’t sure how he had convinced her it was all real.

She took a long, slow breath. “Someone will come to find us and help once they notice you haven’t come back.”

The elf’s wince didn’t go unnoticed. It was the first reaction she’d seen that wasn’t coated in annoyance or disdain.

“What?” She asked, her voice filled with dread.

“Well,” Rowan drew out the word and leaned against the sleigh. “I’m not exactly…authorized…to use the sleigh—”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“—so, I snuck it out. I didn’t log my departure into the system.”

Aelin blinked. “The system?”

“Frosty Flying. It’s the latest in reindeer-based flight operations. It was actually a pretty big deal when we first got it.”

She stopped him and tried pulling him back on track before she had a nervous breakdown. Correction: another nervous breakdown. The first had come when Rowan snuck her through the Gingerbread Gallery and she saw the candied houses magically building themselves. She was convinced it was all an elaborate dream.

“Rowan.”

“Oh, right. It keeps meticulous records of all sleigh riding and flying maneuvers.” At her blank stare, he continued. “We make sure all sleighs are in perfect flying condition, it is one of the most crucial parts of the Christmas delivery.”

Aelin blinked at him again, and for the first time, Rowan had an inkling of concern about her mental stability.

“Right.” She repeated slowly. “You snuck it out. But back up, ‘all’ sleighs? As in more than one? As in, no one will notice this one’s missing?”

Rowan shrugged with a nonchalance that wasn’t helping. “Doubt they’d notice soon enough to be of any help. We have an entire warehouse of sleighs on stand-by. You’d be surprised how many are decommissioned after trial runs. Weather, collisions, faulty controls – they’re not as easy to operate as it looks.”

“So…no one knows the sleigh is gone or that you’ve even left the Pole at all.”

Earlier, when he had left her hiding behind the stables and told her to wait because he would handle it, Aelin went along with it because why not?

He rolled his eyes at her again and loosed a long-suffering sigh which she thought was entirely unfair. “That is what I just said.”

“Fiddlesticks.”

***

“What about the reindeer?”

Rowan had been digging around in the back of the sleigh in search of some food or tools that would help when Aelin’s voice cut through the night air.

“What?” He asked, seeing her standing next to the reindeer nearest the sleigh. He was about to warn her of the animal’s temperament, but it simply turned its head to the side and let her pet it, nudging her shoulder with its nose affectionately. Rowan never got that reaction from the reindeer. He pulled himself over the seat and leaned over the front of the sleigh.

“The reindeer,” she said again, sounding hopeful as she kept petting the animal between them. “What about Dasher and Dancer and Prancer?”

“These aren’t Dasher, Dancer, and Prancer.” He told her flatly. “And if they were, which they aren’t, they’d be up at the front.”

Aelin nodded as if she understood her mistake and quietly hummed to herself On Dasher and Dancer, and Prancer and Vixen...

“But these guys are not them. That’s Gingerbread, Sugarplum,” he pointed to each and finally patted the back of the one nuzzling her face, “and Tinsel.”

“Let me guess,” she sighed as her shoulder slumped. “Backup reindeer for backup sleighs.”

Rowan sprung forward and clamped his hands over Tinsel’s ears. “No. We don’t use ‘backup’ it makes them feel bad. They get temperamental about that. They’re part of our reserve team.”

Tinsel only tried shaking off his hands to munch on his fingers twice, which Rowan counted as a win.

“Should I even ask how many reindeer are on the reserve team?” A question Aelin never thought she would ask.

Rowan straightened with only a small glare at Aelin, to which she raised her hands placatingly and hoped he would explain.

“Around forty or so.”

“Forty?” She gaped.

The flat look he shot her screamed that she should know that was a stupid question.

“What happens when December 23rd comes around, and Vixen catches a cold?” He implored, not expecting an answer as he crossed his arms and brushed some freshly fallen snow off his sleeve. “He’s very friendly. Too friendly. Before you know it, the whole team is sick. They can’t be responsible for pulling the sleigh when they aren’t on their A-game. Not that we would ever push them into flying when they’re sick, that’s just rude. That’s why we have so many reindeer in reserve.”

“Plus, they’re cute,” she added helpfully. Then she nodded, “You have reserves for your reserves.”

“…for our reserves.” An involuntary shudder coursed through him as he remembered when they needed to use them. “Do not ask me about the Candycane Cough of ’99.”

“The…” Aelin shook her head and sat on the edge of the sleigh. Rowan saw the look on her face and felt a pang of guilt for dousing her hope that someone would come to save them. He lowered himself down to sit next to her and found the press of her shoulder to his made him feel the same warmth as a steaming cup of hot chocolate after being out in the snow for hours.

“How is this not some sugar-induced nightmare?” Aelin whispered.

Rowan wasn’t sure if she meant to say it out loud, but he responded anyway, arching a brow and bumping her elbow with his. “Do magical reindeer pop up a lot in your nightmares?”

She huffed a laugh. “No.”

“Flying sleighs? Elves?”

“No and no.” She glanced sideways at him with a small smile.

“Then I’m pretty sure you’re not having a nightmare.”

“A normal dream, then?” She tried again, and this time she sounded more like herself.

Leaning back, Rowan fully faced her and smirked. “Am I something you would dream about?”

She laughed, and Rowan’s grin grew as the spark in her eye returned.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged airily. “We’ll have to see if you show back up.”

With a wink, Aelin stood up and reached her hand down to him, pulling him to his feet to stand beside her.

“I want to try one more thing.” That was all the warning he got before she swung her leg back again and aimed a final kick at the sleigh.

She was rewarded as it miraculously shuddered back to life. It was so unexpected that both Aelin and Rowan stumbled back, arms instinctively wrapping around the other as they regained their footing on the roof’s tiles.

They both stood, opened-mouthed, as they looked at the sleigh

“Did that seriously just work?” Rowan muttered incredulously.

As Aelin laughed and flashed him a bright smile, he accepted that it had worked.

“Come on! Let’s get this baby back in the air and to the Pole so we can figure out how to get me home without getting stranded again.” She was still grinning, waving him in, “and so you can hide the evidence, Mr. Reindeer Thief.”

Maybe his day hadn’t gone to plan, but it was certainly one he wouldn’t forget. He, decidedly, did not want to.

“But this time,” Aelin insisted excitedly, “I get to sit up front.”

*****

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