#lion of doranelle

[shallyne]

Gavriel

Only unpopular because he's quiet and nobody really talks about him BUT I LOVE GAVRIEL

Oh my sweet angel lion shifter, I miss you. I wish you could have daddied a while longer 🙏

9/10

#throne of glass #tog #shallyne asks #shallyne ask #asks #gavriel #Gavriel tog #Tog gavriel #The lion of doranelle #Lion of doranelle

[profound-imagination]

Broken Promises - Fenrys Moonbeam - Part 2

A/N: Thank you for all the love on the first part of this! A few of you have asked for a part 2 so here it is! I hope you enjoy it!❤️

W/C: 3K

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"We can't send Elide in there alone!" You hissed at Rowan and Gavriel, Lorcan behind you, nodding his agreement. "Why not?" Elide demanded, "I can do this!" She didn't look at Lorcan. "You can't move quick enough if you have to, Gavriel's magic won't stretch that far!" You told her, throwing your hand towards Doranelle. She opened her mouth to retort but you carried on, "You're going to walk into a city of Fae and start asking about one they trained to be lethal." You gestured to the three males with you, Rowan cringed.

Elides eyes blazed as they met yours, "Then what do you suggest?" She all but spat at you. "Same plan, but I go in and ask about Fenrys." She hesitated, contemplating, but it was Lorcan that spoke, "No." You whirled on him, "No? You want to send her in there?" He didn't have a chance to respond before Gavriel did. "Fenrys revealed more to Maeve than you think when he snarled at her on the beach when she threw you, showed too much with the gentleness he picked you up with." You met the lion's tawny eyes as he continued, "If Maeve is there, and word gets to her that a human is in Doranelle asking for Fenrys she'll know it's you, she'd have marked your face as a way to keep him in line." You sighed and turned to Rowan, "We need to get them both out, we can't leave Fenrys behind." Rowan searched your eyes, "He won't leave without Connall and Connall won't leave." Lorcan said quietly, Elide glared at him as she took your hand, "We won't leave him behind, Y/N, but Aelin is the priority." Rowan's tone told you there was no room for argument.

"Where do you think you're going?" You sighed, "Leave it alone, Gavriel, I'm begging you." He shook his head as he walked out of the shadows, "It's the middle of the night Y/N and you're heading directly to that path that'll take you into Doranelle, so what's your plan?" Your eyes blazed, "I'm going to get him back." Gavriel raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to ask for an audience with the Queen and then I'm going to bargain for his freedom." He ran his hands down his face. "What are you going to bargain?" You raised an eyebrow this time "Myself. She'll know my family name, the power that lies within it." He paled, "You can't be serious?" He asked, "I'm deadly serious, she won't give up Aelin but she might give up Fenrys and then there will be four of you to go and save Aelin, one who might even know where she is." He shook his head, "This is not the way, Y/N." You threw your hands up, "I can't just sit around and do nothing!" He pulled you into his chest, "Stick with the plan, we'll get them both back."

So Elide went, and she did better than anyone of you could've imagined, coming back with not only Cairn's location, but an ally as well. You made Rowan wait, while Lorcan and Gavriel scouted, while a plan was formed.

Rowan had moved early, you supposed it was a miracle you had gotten him to wait this long. They had tried to convince you to stay in the clearing with Elide but you outrightly refused, so there you stood with Lorcan as the young Queen emerged. Lorcan was moving towards her before you'd even really registered what had happened or what was going on around you, and then there was a lion running next to her, Gavriel, and a Hawk above their heads. She collapsed as she reached you and Rowan was there in an instant, but she only said one word, one word that nearly made you sick, that cracked your heart. "Fenrys." He was still in there somewhere.

You ran, straight towards a camp you knew you wouldn't make it out of, but he was in there and you wouldn't leave him, Rowan had Aelin now and you didn't believe he'd risk going back to Fenrys. Rowan caught you around the waist and held you by your shoulders. "No." You pushed against him, "I have to go back for him, I can't leave him Rowan, I can't leave him!" You weren't sure when you started crying. "We aren't leaving him, Gavriel and I are going to get him right now, I need you to go with Lorcan, keep Aelin safe for me, I promised we wouldn't leave him." You searched his eyes, then Gavriel's who said, "He'd hate that you're crying over him, Y/N, we'll bring him back." You nodded and Rowan let you go, the two were back in the camp before you'd reached Lorcan and Aelin.

You always saw Aelin as strong, someone who would never break, she was the shore on which the waves broke, but watching her claw at herself trying to remove the irons was heartbreaking. Elide tried her best to keep Aelin calm but nothing worked and they couldn't get them off. Rowan emerged from the trees, a white wolf you'd have known anywhere limp in his arms, blood covering his fur. He placed him down gently and was at Aelin's side in a second.

"Is he?" You asked Gavriel as you approached the wolf. "No," he said grimly, "But it appears he broke the blood oath on his own, he doesn't have long, Y/N." Fresh tears fell down your cheeks. You murmured to him quietly while the others worked to free Aelin, Fenrys didn't so much as crack an eye. You felt a heat on your back and threw a look over your shoulder, Aelin, covered in flame, was walking towards you, no, not you, Fenrys. Gavriel pulled you out of the way as the flame engulfed Fenrys as well, as she knelt and cut her palm, as she offered him the blood oath and commanded him to live. His eyes opened and they blinked at one another, a silent language only the two of them knew.

It was days, maybe more before he acknowledged you, he'd followed Aelin in wolf form out of the clearing, had followed her into the cave, had slept next to her, had sat at her feet in the boat taking you to safety, he hadn't looked at you once. Elide kept glancing between the two of you, raising an eyebrow in a silent question that you didn't want to answer, because no, you weren't okay but you felt like you had no right to feel like that considering the unspeakable trauma the two of them had been through together but it was like he had forgotten you existed, maybe he had, maybe after everything they had been through you were all but a stranger to him now. Your heart clenched uncomfortably in your chest and your hand pressed the spot, willing it to loosen. "You okay, Y/N?" Gavriel asked gently, nothing but concern written on his face. You didn't get the chance to answer, Aelin had asked for the boat to stop, so it did and you were following her, Rowan, Fenrys and Gavriel into a tomb.

You told yourself it didn't matter, that you shouldn't be upset, you'd only come to make sure he was alive, you'd done that and as soon as you were back you'd set off to find Dorian and you'd leave any involvement with fae males behind as you shoved gold and jewels into your bag from your spot behind the tomb, hidden from the others. He'd told you on the beach that anything you thought he felt for you was pathetic, that he'd not meant his promises. That didn't stop the tears that fell without your permission when you heard his voice again, "I thought we'd need more pockets." You clasped your hands over your mouth to stop the sob that was crawling up your throat. Facing him in wolf form was one thing, but actually seeing his face again would be another. Gavriel came into view, his face morphing into shock as he took you in, you shook your head at him urgently as he opened his mouth to ask you what was wrong, instead he sat next to you and pulled you into his side, continuing to fill your bag with his other hand as you silently cried into his shoulder.

Elide was instantly on her feet when she saw your face when you emerged from the tomb, followed by Fenrys and Gavriel, you shook your head at her once and took your seat next to her, Fenrys taking the one opposite, still he didn't acknowledge you. In fact, you were halfway back across the ocean before he acknowledged you for the first time.

Sleep had been alluding you since Fenrys had been taken, you'd grown so used to his presence, whether as a male at your side or on the floor of your cabin as a wolf, or curled around you in the Marshes, you'd grown accustomed to the feeling of safety he brought with him. Instead of spending another night tossing and turning in your stuffy cabin you rolled out of your bunk and left as quietly as possible so you didn't disturb Elide and closed the door softly behind you, as usual at the end of the small row of cabins, a white wolf slept outside the captain's quarters where Rowan and Aelin slept and you fought the urge to scoff, you had no right to be angry and hurt you told yourself. They went through hell together and he was protecting his queen, as he should and you took yourself to the deck.

Legs through the bars, sea spray hitting your feet you let your heart hurt, you let yourself feel what you had been feeling for Fenrys and you let yourself mourn it's loss, you didn't hear him approach, you had no idea he was there until he wrapped a cloak around your shoulders and sat next to you. He said nothing, so you took the first step. "Why can't you look at me anymore?" He said nothing. "I understand it was all a lie, that you didn't mean any of it, but do you really hate me that much?" He said nothing. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat and force away the tears lining your eyes, "I don't understand why you played this game with me, was it fun for you? To break me like this?" Your voice cracked and your tears betrayed you, the silence hanging between the two of you was awkward in a way it had never been.

"I hope you can heal, Fenrys, from whatever was done to you. You didn't deserve any of it and I don't expect you to tell me, I just wanted to say that, before we get back and go our separate ways." He spoke then, "Separate ways?" You nodded. "I came after you, I should've stayed with Dorian but I came after you, so when we get back, I'll set off to find him again. I'm not needed here and I'm certainly not part of this court." He repeated your words, "You came after me?" You nodded again. "Damn near walked into Doranelle and demanded an audience with Maeve, I was going to bargain for your freedom." He paled, just like Gavriel had, "What were you going to offer her?" You stared at the side of his face, "The only thing I had, myself. She'd have known my family name, wouldn't have been able to resist it." His hands curled into fists, "Family name?" He asked, almost whispering, "Perrington," He gasped. "After I was born, in an unusual act, Dorian's father kept my mother and I at the castle, claiming his wife missed her friend. They never married my mother and father, Perrington had no claim over my mother and I, not against the King's wishes." You scrambled to explain, "I'm not one of them, at least, I don't think so, but it would've been enough, I hoped it would be enough." He faced you then, stealing the air in your lungs, "Valg princess or not, you do not trade yourself for me, ever." Without waiting for you to respond, he walked away.

Anielle, Chaol's home, you wondered to yourself if he was here, if he'd healed, he'd clearly managed to convince them to send armies. Silver lined your eyes as you walked through the tent flap Gavriel held open for you. "Y/N," Chaol breathed in shock, you looked between him and the pretty woman who stood next to him, rings on both their fingers. "Hello, old friend!" You grinned as he stood and the tears fell, he opened his arms and you threw yourself into them. "I knew you were too stubborn to stay in that chair!" You sobbed into his neck, he pulled you away gently, "All thanks to Yrene," He smiled, gesturing to the pretty woman next to him, "My wife." He beamed. "It's lovely to meet you, Y/N, I've heard so much about you!" She offered you her hand but you pulled her into a hug, "Thank you, Yrene, welcome to the family!" She laughed, "I needed a sister, between Chaol and Dorian it was always boy stuff!"

The battle was won, you could tell that much. You'd followed Lorcan and Gavriel down a siege tower and had stayed on the field, an arrow to the shoulder had taken you to the ground but it was the sword to the gut that kept you there. You turned your head to see Elide on Chaol's horse take off across the field, darkness crept into your vision, you'd never see Dorian again, never meet Chaol's child, you'd never know if Fenrys would come around again. A single tear slid down your face and as oblivion took you, you could've sworn you heard Fenrys on the battlements above, "Where is Y/N? Where is she?!"

Much to your surprise, you woke again, in a tiny little room, on the most uncomfortable cot you'd ever laid on. A weight on your thigh drew your attention, a head of golden hair was resting on it, you couldn't see the face but you knew who it was and by the sound of his breathing you knew he was asleep. You reached out a tentative hand and twirled the strands that had come loose from his braid through your fingers. He was here. A while later, he stirred, his head turning to face you as his eyes cracked open, relife washing over his face. "Welcome back, sleepy head, good dreams?" You teased and cracked a half smile, "Well you were in them," you waved a hand at him, "Must've been a nightmare then, if I was there." He sat up and rolled his powerful shoulders, "Never, how are you feeling?" You shrugged, "Sore, it was a terrible experience, I don't recommend it." Fenrys snorted out a laugh and despite yourself you beamed, you'd missed this with him, the easy banter, the teasing, it was almost like it was before.

"I owe you an apology, Y/N, I haven't been fair to you." You waved your hand at him again, "It's fine, it's done, it doesn't matter." He took the hand you'd waved in his. "It does matter, I hurt you, therefore it matters, I never lied to you, Y/N, I meant the promises I made you, when Aelin and I got out, I couldn't think straight, I'd watched them take her apart and put her back together day after day, I watched Maeve make my brother kill himself, then you were there and it was hard to believe it was real, that we were out and safe and that despite all I did on that beach to make you hate me, you came anyway."

His thumb was rubbing circles on the back of your hand and you leant towards him, ignoring the pain it caused you and cupped his face, your thumb wiping away the tears that ran down his face. "I heard you, in the vaults, I heard you crying and I knew it was because of me, Gavriel spotted me coming over and shook his head, so I left you with him, he was always the best of us anyways, but you, you have every right to feel hurt by what I've done, how I've handled things," He was rambling now but you didn't have it in you to stop him, "I was terrified that first night in the marshes, when I figured out that what I felt for you was more than a fleeting crush on a pretty girl, watching you sit that close to Dorian, and watching him pull you into his side, and all I could think was, how do I compare to a King that could literally give you the world, I had nothing to offer my mate other than a blood oath to a tyrant queen-" You cut him off, "Mate?" He nodded, "I knew for sure when Maeve made me walk away from you, I could feel the pain you were feeling, flowing into me like a stream, I felt your heart break, Y/N."

He wasn't looking at you again, so despite the pain in your body, you sat up and crawled across the cot to him, you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled yourself into his lap. "She couldn't know how I felt about you, I couldn't let her have you, I figured if I could keep you at arm's length until we manage to kill her, I'd be able to keep you safe." You turned his head towards you, "I don't want you to keep me at arm's length, keep me safe at your side, apparently, I'm not very good at this battle thing, I'm safer with you, Fenrys, and I'll always come and find you." You could feel his breath on your lips, you watched him flick his eyes between yours and your lips, "Do it Fenrys, kiss me, please?" He groaned and gave in, kissing you desperately, you met him stroke for stroke, when he pulled away your cheeks were flushed, "No more battles for you, okay?" He asked, "Okay Fen, I promise."

#throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #assassin's blade #queen of shadows #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader

[alice-bad-thoughts]

I'm writing something now and it's struck me again. Gavriel's relatives were probably told of his death by his bastard son. Or Rowan, who had been his bf for centuries and suddenly became king. Or Aelin, Fire-breathing bitch-queen, who was also suddenly their distant relative. In general they probably didn't have a chance to attend his funeral or know what happened in the first days after his death. Who told them this horrible truth? Did they? And did they care? I don't know. I don't know and I want to weep that we will never know more about Lion of Doranelle and his family, his brothers. That it ended this way.

#throne of glass #gavriel #aedion ashryver #rowan whitethorn #sjm #sjmaas #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #hire-breathing bitch-queen #i can’t stop crying and let it go #tog

[goddess-aelin]

I've Got You

My contribution to the last day Rowaelin Month: "What If."

@rowaelinscourt

Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5K

TW: Mentions of torture, general post-EOS angst.

I'm sorry in advance, though hopefully it's not too angsty. Takes place after EOS. Let's pretend Aelin was in Maeve's clutches for longer and Rowan never was able to scent her...I warned you.

Nine months, four days, and five hours. That's how long he had been without his Fireheart. Rowan's heart ached to be away from her. To not be able to touch her, to feel her callused and scarred skin. To scent the jasmine, lemon verbena, and crackling embers of her essence. The smell of his home, his heart. He was supposed to protect her, his queen. His wife. His mate. She was half of his soul and he failed her so spectacularly.

It had been nine months since that day on the beach where his love was taken from him. He heard very little news of the battle in Erilea since then. So few whisperings of the General and Queen, albeit the fake queen. No news of a shifter or an impostor queen. A part of him was aware that his friends were most likely fighting an impossible battle. Impossible without the weapon that could change the tide of the war, his Fireheart. His beautiful, strong, amazing, Fireheart.

Lorcan had been tracking the Queen for months, always one step closer and then two steps back. Rowan's traveling companions never once complained, though the urgency of the situation felt like a tightening noose at their necks. The Lady of Perranth, a human, never once faltered in following the three Fae warriors during the quest to save her Queen. The lion barely spoke. And Rowan barely ate. Or slept. Or registered anything other than the gaping hole in his heart.

It was an overcast day that Rowan got the news. The Queen had moved out. No, not his queen. Rather his old queen, his captor. She had moved out of Doranelle. Was Aelin with her? Did she take his mate and steal her away to a far off land? There was no telling where Aelin was or what shape she was in. Had Maeve broken her so thoroughly that she would still put up a fight, even after nine months of captivity? Nine months of hell?

Rowan didn't care why Maeve left Doranelle. He didn't care that there were still sentries posted throughout the city or that most of the army was still standing in front of the river. All he knew was that if there was even a chance that Aelin was in there, he would fight tooth and nail to get her out. Would steal the breath out of the lungs of every sentry if he had to, even if it would bring him close to burnout to do it. He once told his mate he'd walk into the burning heart of hell itself to find her. And here he was.

Aelin was alive. He would feel if she wasn't. Other than a brief, painful tug at the golden strands that bound them together a month prior, the mating bond had been quiet. He knew she was okay, at least in the physical sense. But he wasn't sure what state he'd find her in.

Rowan was nothing if not determined. So he was prepared to fight his way through to his Fireheart. But before he could rip and shred through the soldiers before him, a head of silver hair appeared. Sellene. And she was wearing a crown.

"Come, Rowan. Follow me."

Rowan didn't know what the hell had happened here and didn't care. Why Maeve had left the city and why his cousin was now wearing the crown was beyond him. But he knew in his heart that Sellene was taking him to Aelin.

So he followed. He didn't turn and check to see if his companions were following. He only had a mind for Aelin.

Rowan couldn't help the anxiety eating away at his soul. He had never felt so unsteady and shaken. A thousand thoughts were racing through his head of his mate and what he would find when he saw her.

Yet Sellene led him not to the dungeons or a dank cell but rather to a suite. One of his old rooms, to be precise. He paused before the door, a hand resting on the wood planks. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his nerves. He could scent her. Her lemon verbena. Her jasmine. Her fire. And...something else. He could scent fear and desperation. Anguish and pain. But there was another scent, something familiar but he couldn’t place it. Sellene laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and after an encouraging nod, walked off into the hallway.

Rowan gently pushed open the door and steeled himself for a broken and bruised Aelin. He stopped short at the sight in front of him.

Not a broken, bruised Aelin with her back to him. But rather whole and unblemished. The latter had his anger rising. Her scars...gone. Erased as if they'd never been. And in her arms...

Rowan's breath caught and he shakily inhaled as Aelin turned to fully face him. He almost fell to his knees at the sight. Maybe he did.

Because in his mate's arms was a baby. A baby that smelled like fir trees on a sunlit morning. A cap of silvery-blonde hair peaked out from the blanket they were swathed in. Small snuffles could be heard coming from the babe resting peacefully in their mother's arms.

Rowan did fall then. His arms reached for Aelin but his feet didn't move. He stumbled but was righted by Aelin's hand on his forearm. Tears fell freely from Rowan's eyes as he beheld his mate and child up close. So beautiful, both of them. As green met turquoise, he couldn't stop the sobs from escaping. His head fell gently into Aelin's neck, both of them completely losing any control over their emotions. Rowan knew he was probably squishing the babe between them but he couldn't let go.

They held each other for an eternity, neither speaking nor moving. When Rowan finally started to pull away, Aelin's fingers tightened their hold on his bicep, keeping him as close as possible.

Rowan was the first to speak. "Fireheart," he whispered. His free hand came up to wipe the tear tracks off her beautifully flushed cheeks.

And Rowan's heart leapt with joy when she finally whispered, "Buzzard." A small smile graced her features, a miracle if he ever saw one. Her voice was raspy with disuse when she spoke again. "I'll talk about...everything later. But for now," she held the babe's face closer, "this is your daughter."

Rowan's tears began again as he beheld the tiny life in Aelin's arms. He was speechless. His daughter. Their daughter. Through his sobs he managed to ask, "What's her name?"

Aelin looked sheepish, her features darkening. "She doesn't have one." A pause. "I...I couldn't name her. Not without you. She's only a few weeks old."

Rowan nodded in understanding. Another thought crossed his mind. A memory of the brief flash of pain he experienced through the bond. “Are you ok?” Aelin gave a small nod.

"Do you want to hold her?"

If he was being honest, Rowan didn't think he had ever wanted anything more in his life. Aelin passed him his daughter, her tiny body fitting perfectly into the crooks of his arms. Her warmth seeped through the blanket and his eyes couldn't help but to take in every tiny feature on her beautiful face. And once again, Rowan found himself crying.

"Oh, Buzzard." Aelin's voice was a half-sob as she rested her forehead against his. "Thank you."

"For what?" Rowan made sure to keep his voice low for the sleeping babe in his arms.

"For coming for me. She...she tried to convince me you weren't coming. And after a while, I believed her."

Rowan sobbed. "I'm so sorry." Tears were freely streaming down his face once again. Aelin was vehemently shaking her head. "I am, though. I'm so, so sorry that I couldn't save you on the beach. I'm sorry it took me so long to find you." Rowan paused. "I'm sorry that I wasn't here for you. Both of you." Rowan looked to his daughter but shaking hands brought his face back to Aelin's.

She was still shaking her head as she said, "It's not your fault. None of it. It was Maeve's. She may have tortured me. Isolated me. Humiliated me. But that was all her. It was you who kept me sane throughout. You were the only reason I had hope. The thought of seeing you again...It's what drove me to stay alive." Aelin spoke the last part so quietly that Rowan could have sworn she didn't speak the words out loud.

He took her hand with his free one. “Your scars..."

Aelin sniffled and nodded. "I know. That was before she knew about the baby. After that, I was thrown into a cell, completely isolated. She didn't physically harm me once she found out I was pregnant. Mentally, I can't say the same. I had the baby in that cell. Once Sellene took over, she moved me here. I…I have to get myself back in order. Have to get better. But it's going to be okay. Because you're here now." Aelin brushed her fingers over her daughters warm forehead. "She's a miracle. Our little miracle. And I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that she...we... have a happy life. Together."

"To whatever end," Rowan whispered back, forehead still on hers.

To Whatever End.

A/N: I lied. That was way angstier than I anticipated but at least it ended happy right? Is it really a Mags^TM fic if it doesn't include babies? Cmon. You guys should know me by now. I'm a sucker for Rowaelin babies.

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

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth2022 #rowaelinmonth #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #rowan whitethorn #Aelin galathynius #rowaelinscourt

[little-prying-pandora]

MEN OF THRONE OF GLASS 2/2 (I haven’t finished reading Tower of Dawn so I’ll do another one including everyone I’ve missed. Send me a request)

#men of throne of glass #throne of glass #tog #Rolfe #pirate lord #lorcan salvaterre #commander #arobynn hamel #king of assassins #Gavriel #lion of doranelle #fenrys #conall #fenrys and conall #wolves of doranelle #edits #my edits #I’m sorry it took so long

[shadowsingerofnight]

Kingdom of ash spoilers

I knew gavriel was gonna die the moment rowan told aedion he was his father, I just knew it I hate it here

#aedion ashryver #gavriel #throne of glass #tog #kingdom of ash #koa #cadre #the lion of doranelle

[snaps7]

Good Luck Part 3

This fic is about Aedion's mom and Evalin going to Doranelle to speak to Meave about Demi-Fae rights. Instead of meeting her nieces, she sends Gavriel.

Part 1 | Part 2 

“So,” started Evalin, still holding a knife, “you met the Lion of Doranelle. Glaston will die with jealousy!”

“My brother was the last thing on my mind, Ev. Trust me.”

Emrys chuckled. “The Lion is quite handsome.”

Eleanor hummed in a dreamy agreement. “And the rest of the blood-sworn? All I’ve heard of them are war stories from my father.”

“They all are. Some more than others – or at least, in different ways.”

“Who did Glaston like the most?” asked Evalin.

“Whitethorn. He and father used to argue who was better – he or the Lion.”

“You take after your father then,” smiled Emrys.

“I have yet to meet Whitethorn. Though, we are cousins…”

“Distant cousins.”

“I can’t listen to this argument again, girls. Chop your vegetables.”

They prepared the food in silence, but Eleanor’s mind kept going back to Gavriel. She’d had crushes before – tones of them. And not one of them had been as inappropriate as this one. Partly because of the age difference but mainly because she was now betrothed to another man. Lord Flavian Baldor was a close friend to the crown and one of the biggest food suppliers in the kingdom – he was ambitious enough to rise even more in the hierarchy, and Eleanor had no doubt that he would use their marriage to achieve just that.

Emrys seasoned the food as it cooked over the slow fire and Evalin nudged her with her shoulder. “Still thinking about the Lion?”

“Lord Baldor.”

“Ah, the fiancé… What about him?”

“Nothing in particular. Just… wondering what it would be like when I marry him.”

“I’d like it better if your thoughts of him didn’t make you frown.”

Eleanor attempted a smile. “I like him. I’m sure I’ll grow to love him as I get to know him better.”

Evalin squeezed her shoulder and went back to chopping.

                        Gavriel was sharpening his knives when his senses alerted him to someone approaching. He sniffed, trying to make it out. It was the same scent that was still lingering in him from before, mixed with the smell of food.

He placed the knife he was holding on the bed and reached for his shirt – he’d taken it off while he was training. There was a gentle knock and he crossed the short distance to open the door.

“I didn’t chop vegetables all day so you could skip on a meal I helped prepare!”

Gavriel tried to resist a smile. The princess was standing in his doorway with a tray full of clumsily cut steamed vegetables, roasted meat and a goblet with ale.

“Hello,” he said.

She seemed confused for a second, then her beautiful face twisted into a sly smile. “Hi,” she said and leaned against the doorframe, spilling some of the ale onto the vegetables. “Oh, damn it!”

Gavriel chuckled and took the tray from her. “I always like my vegetables soaked in ale.”

Princess Eleanor stared at him for a moment before curtsying. “And that is why I did it.”

He laughed again. “Thank you for that, and for bringing me this food. You did not have to do it, princess.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Like I said, I like to see people appreciate my effort. Can I come in?”

It was uncustomary for noble women, let alone princesses, to be alone in the company of a male they were not related to, especially in his sleeping chambers.

She rolled her eyes. “If you’re warried about what-”

“You can come in.”

She smiled and went inside, taking a seat on the table chair. Gavriel put the tray down on the other end of the small table. “It smells delicious.”

The princess nodded. “Emrys is a very talented cook.”

Gavriel plunged his fork into a half-circle of a carrot that had cut lines in several places. “And you are a very talented chopper.”

Eleanor crossed her arms. “Evalin chopped that one.”

“Of course.”

She smiled at him – a smile that lit up her entire face, and could light up more if he allowed himself to look at it.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Boredom, mostly. I usually listen to Emrys’ stories after dinner.”

“He is the Story Keeper, yes?”

Eleanor nodded. “I’ve heard most of them from the Story Keeper in Wendlyn. But hearing them from Emrys… they sound very different.”

“In what ways?”

“Well,” the princess leaned into the table, “your queen, for example.”

Gavriel stiffened, but the girl said nothing of it. “What about my queen?”

“In Wendlyn, all the stories of her are filled with glory. She saved the world and now rules peaceful, happy lands from her stone throne in her stone city, waiting to protect us all again.”

“And what do they say here?”

Princess Eleanor angled her head. “Are you asking me to snitch?”

He laughed. “You are the one who brought up the subject.”

“They say… They say the same things, but in different ways. In Wendlyn, my aunt’s disdain of half-breeds is known only to those in the king’s inner circle. The people believe her armies are consisted of full-blooded fae because they are stronger, not because she believes them to be the only one worthy. In Wendlyn, when we speak of the battles she fights, the fallen soldiers are sacrifices for freedom. Here… it sounds like she does not care for her people.”

Gavriel gulped. The horrors of his last battle, those young boys – barely even males, the city she had made them turn to ash still clear in his mind.

“But you care,” the princess said with a nod to the inked names on his neck. “For the soldiers you command.”

“Every fallen soldier is a cause of great mourning for queen Maeve.”

“I’m just saying…” her voice was light and teasing again. “The people of Wendlyn like you and your group of warrior-friends a lot more than they like her. If you were to pledge your loyalty to someone else, your admirers would follow.”

Gavriel offered a smile, but it was not sincere this time.

“What is your opinion of the demi-fae?” she asked him.

“There are many things that define a person’s worth, but blood is not one of them.”

The princess smiled, lighting up the room. Gavriel tried to ignore the roaring in his veins that pushed him to get closer to her.

“Then you wouldn’t mind my company for the rest of your meal.”

“Of course not,” he smiled – this time for real.

“And you will listen to the concerns my cousin and I have regarding to your queen?”

“That is why I am here,” he bowed his head.

“It is why I am here, too. One of the reasons.”

He wondered if asking her to elaborate would be pushing a boundary in their still-new acquaintance. The princess was young, her spirit was wild. Gavriel’s had long been honed by pain, sorrow and battle, and barely remembering joy.

“Vere is a beautiful city, and the castle there offers a lot more pleasures. Why would you want to leave it?”

She scoffed. “Yeah, it offers the pleasure of my overbearing mother, annoying brother, infuriating sister-in-law and a hundred courtiers that are dead bound on making my life hell!”

Gavriel chuckled at the scowl on her face. “Now I wonder how you will ever want to go back there.”

Princess Eleanor sighed. “If every day here is like the ones I’ve already had, I would never want to leave. I would miss only my nephew, and some of the more handsome young lords. Although…” she trailed and Gavriel raised an eyebrow, asking her to continue. “Well, with you here, those handsome young lords are put to shame.” Despite the confidence in her posture and words, the princess turned a deep red in the cheeks.

“I am flattered by your words, princess.”

Female attention has never been unfamiliar to Gavriel, and there was a time when he’d been ready to give his heart to another, but now… Maeve had demanded he ended so many affairs in the years he had spent as her bloodsworn that at some point, he had stopped offering his heart.

“Don’t worry about it. Occasionally I must compliment someone other than myself as to not get a reputation,” she winked.

“Would not want that,” he agreed. “You said you would miss your nephew?”

“Galan,” said Eleanor and smiled – for the first time without a devilish side to it. “He’s my everything. He’s the sweetest boy ever! He has these big beautiful eyes that are always looking around and he rarely ever cries! But when he does… his voice is so cute I could listen to it all day!” she cooed.

“I am sure he will be a source of great pride to your family,” offered Gavriel.

Eleanor made a shaking motion with her head. “His mother whines every day that he was not born a girl so she could dress him up, and my dear brother is trying to turn him into a miniature version of himself.”

“I’ve known many Ashryvers through the years, and it is hard to make you into something you are not. Still, the young prince is lucky to have an aunt like you.”

“What about your family?”

“My father is a lord, and my mother comes from a noble house, as well.”

“Any siblings?”

“Two brothers.”

“Ah,” she clapped her hands. “Then you know my pain.”

Gavriel chuckled. “They are older than I am – and by the time I was born, both of them were wed. I grew up with their wives as my sisters as much as I grew up with them as my brothers.”

“I am sure all of them were proud when you swore the blood oath to my aunt.”

He nodded but said nothing. “Tell me more about your family. From the letter your father wrote to your aunt, I understand you and your cousin are the only ones… carrying concerns.”

“Oh, well… yes. My family holds your queen in the highest esteem. My brother has many responsibilities as crown prince, so I guess Evalin and I are the only ones with enough time on our hands to reach out to these causes. Speaking of, when are we going to get the chance to address said concerns?”

“Tomorrow morning?” If he took the princesses on a ride through the woods and showed them how peaceful they were – how peaceful Maeve kept them – perhaps he’d assure them there was nothing to worry about.

“Perfect.”

   Evalin was enjoying a book in bed when Eleanor burst into her room with a huge smile adorning her face.

“Did you bed the Lion at last then?”

“Not yet, but I still come with great news.” She plumped herself on Evalin’s bed and sighed. “He has invited us to a ride in the morning, to talk about the demi-fae.”

“Do you want me to fake an illness?”

“What?”

“So that you can get the lion roaring.” Evalin winked at her cousin.

“Evalin! These kind of jokes are why mother won’t let me out of her sight!”

“Wyrd, she is strict! So is mine, sadly.”

“Do you think it’s one of those things where you age and think ‘My mother was right’?”

“No!” Evalin laughed. “I can easily see your kid and mine trying to get each other laid!”

“You know what? So can I!”

#gavriel #aedion ashryver #evalin ashryver #aelin ashryver #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #the cadre #throne of glass #tog #good luck #fanfic #fanfiction #tog fanfic

[highqueenofelfhame]

i know everyone is all sorts of into lion by saint mesa as an inner circle song but hear me out— an heir of fire trailer with this song. there’s a lyric where it says “you burn everything you see” and i can so clearly see a shot of aelin standing in the middle of doranelle surrounded by flames and her head cocked, a smirk on her lips while everyone looks visibly nervous (except for rowan.)

“gold are your fingers, leaving traces everywhere you go” aelin’s flame flickering in and out in her hand for a moment before flaring vibrantly.

“You were December

Eyes cold, freeze my blood

Somehow, somehow not enough” a display of rowan and his power, throwing ice arrows at aelin, a shot of aelin in a bath of ice looking over her shoulder at rowan, running across the frozen lake and dragging luca behind her with goldryn in her hand

during the beat drops and the chorus, it’s different training montages, aelin training against the wards and her power flying back at her, a shot of her and rowan coming over the hill with doranelle below them.

thanks for coming to my ted talk

#heir of fire #throne of glass #tog #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #the cadre #queen of shadows #crown of midnight #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #sjm #sarah j mass #rowaelin #headcanons #ideas #idk #sry if the spacing is weird i wrote this in my notes app first lmao #lion #saint mesa #acotar

[sweetinsanebookworm]

Vaughan's relationship with Aelin's court

After Fenrys found him,he spends a few months in Terassen and does de blood oath to Aelin,becoming port of her court and having diferent relationships with the other members

Fenrys

Vaughan and Fenrys are besties.

They're the youngest between the original cadre members(at least the alive ones) and are always considered the "wildest" ones, expecially when the subject is going out and "meet" some new people.

Sometimes when the court goes out to deal with something they're constantly interrupted for some ex lover of Fenrys or/and Vaughan,and random people that somehow know the two of them

They kinda bring out eachother's best.Fenrys helps Vaughan to be less quiet and express himself more,not allowing him to hide his wild and fun side.While Vaughan helps Fenrys to stay centered and keep calm when the past starts to hount him sometimes.

Vaughan and Aelin are the only two people in the world that Fenrys talks to about Connall,because they are the friends he trusts the most

Rowan

Even with Fenrys as his best friend,the strongest conexion Vaughan had in the cadre was with Gavriel.The warrior was practicaly a father figure for him.

So you guys can imagine how devastated he was when he found out about Gavriel's death.

He asked for a moment alone and after more then an hour Rowan went after him.

They did respect eachother and fought side by side,but didn't really know anything about the other.But the time they spent in comfortable silence in the balcony somehow started to change that.

They started training thogether and won eachother's admiration quickly.

And everybody knew wherever he was,Gavriel probably was happy to see that the people he loved had someone to lean on.

Elide

Initially the lady of Perranth wasn't sure how she felt about the warrior.

He seem'd polite,but they never had a real conversation until the theather's opening ball.

He aproched her and after a few seconds of akward silence he said "I smelled you know".

When he realised she was totally confused he clarified "When I was..."looking" for Lorcan...I smelled you in the forest.I was planning on helping whoever was walking alone in the florest,but then I had the weird feeling I should turn around and go as far away as I could...I guess that was good,otherwise I would have acidently bumped in Lorcan and probably both of us were not going to be here today"

"So you was also trying to chalenge the oath?"

"I never tough that what Lorcan did was a good reason to try to kill him.He's a good male...deep down I guess"

After that day the two of them became friends.

Everytime Aelin needed someone to go to Perranth in her name,Vaughan would volunteer and spend a few days with Lady and Lord Lochan in their house.

Lorcan

Surprisingly Lorcan and Vaughan get along pretty well.

Even tho they're best friends,Vaughan is way more focused and quieter than Fenrys,and Lorcan respects that in him.

When Vaughan visits Perranth they train thogether a lot and even after centuries knowing eachother's style of fight they still find ways tho surprise the other.

After dinners Elide,Lorcan and Vaughan sit near one a huge fireplace and spend hours and hours talking.

Even tho people supose Lorcan just interact with him because of his friendship with Elide,both know they are actually friends and that pisses Fenrys off

Lysandra

Vaughan is facinated by Lysandra's powers.

He met a lot shapeshifters during his life but none that could shapeshift as easilly as Lysandra.

And the Lady of Caraverre became very interested when Vaughan mentioned that it was possible to win every fight even in animal form,even his,that wasn't as big as Fenrys's wolf.

She asked a few tips to fight as smaller animals and he started training her.Sometimes with Rowan's help.

It was not unusual for Orynth citezens to see a Falcon,an Eagle and a Osprey flying near the castle.

Aedion

At first,Aedion didn't really liked Vaughan.

Acording to him "he simply desapeared during the war and only came back when it was convenient for him"

Aelin just told him to shut up.

He spent weeks ignoring Vaughan's mere existence,until he found out how much Gavriel cared about the male.If his father liked him so much there must had a reason right?

He wasn't planning to ask the male about it,but he ended up doing it in a day the two of them were alone in the meeting room.

Vaughan was happy to tell him about the lion. Stories of adventures that most people didn't know about.Or even point out similarities between The Lion of Doranelle and The Wolf of the North.

After a while the two were sharing stories of their own,and planning Orynth's security thogether

Aelin

Aelin was apprehensive when Fenrys sent them a message telling he found Vaughan and that he agreed in going to Terassen meet her.

She wasn't sure if giving the blood oath to someone she dind't know was a good idea.But Fenrys,Lorcan and Rowan seemed to trust him,so at least she could give him a chance.

Her doubts desapeared in the second she saw the smile Fenrys gave Vaughan. Fenrys had started smiling again after the war.

But not like that.

That was the wild smile he used to give before Connall's death.

In that exact moment she knew she had to keep that male in her court,even if just to make her friend happy.

She had already made her decision before even talking to Vaughan,but as soon as they started a conversation she was sure.

Between all the members of the cadre he was the one that enjoyed art and music the most.

With less then a hour she had already shared all her plans for the theather and library and he had gived such good sugestions she was ready to make that male the culture minister of Orynth.

He is usually the one that acompanies her to watch dance and orchestra rehersals.

She couldn't be happier to have her court complete

#since sarah doesn't tell us anything about him we can dream right? #vaughan #tog #throne of glass #kingdom of ash #lorcan #rowan whitethorn #gavriel #lady elide #fenrys moonbeam #aelin's court #aelin whitethorn #aelin galythinius #lysandra #queen of shadows #sarah j. maas #sjm books #tog hc #the cadre

[cicada-bones]

The Warrior and the Wildfire

Chapter 6: The Forgotten Child 

Sorry about that last cliffhanger! (though I hope my speedy update will help! I start school again this week - so I knew I needed to get this out before my workload started to pile up again) 

Please let me know what you think! I know im really bad about replying to comments, but I promise I love and appreciate every single one ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ 

word count: 6619

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

As they entered, Aedion rose from his seat at the kitchen table. It seemed he had spent the past hour just sitting around, waiting for them. And stewing. However, now that he had finally removed his cloak, Rowan could actually get a good look at the young demi-Fae.

He was tall, over six feet, and surprisingly well-muscled. He wasn’t ambidextrous, but from the way he carried himself, it seemed as though his swordsmanship might be just as proficient off the left side as the right. And he had this certain…arrogance, a weight in his step and a glint in his eyes, that told Rowan he’d been winning his fights for perhaps a bit too long.

And those eyes, those Ashryver eyes – they were so like Aelin’s that Rowan almost felt they might even be twins. Along with that golden hair, the hard cheekbones, and those broad shoulders – Aelin and Aedion were two side of the same gold coin.

Though Rowan didn’t think he would’ve ever expected to discover that Aelin was the tamer side of that coin.

The second Rowan appeared at Aelin’s side, he felt Aedion’s gaze lock with his. And the challenge that burned in it had not dimmed one bit.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. But he felt sighing. With everything they were facing, with the King and the Valg and Arobynn and the keys and everything, the gods still had to go and foist another Fenrys on him?

Aedion’s eyes flicked over him, appraising. “You never bothered to tell me how handsome your faerie prince is, Aelin.”

She scowled, and a muscle in Rowan’s jaw pulsed. But before he could speak, Aedion was jutting his chin at him and saying, “Tomorrow morning, you and I are going to train on the roof. I want to know everything you know.”

Aelin clicked her tongue. “All I’ve heard from your mouth these past few days is Prince Rowan this and Prince Rowan that, and yet this is what you decide to say to him? No bowing and scraping?”

Aedion just sat back down, his smirk plastered to his face.

Yep, just like Fenrys.

“If Prince Rowan wants formalities, I can grovel, but he doesn’t look like someone who particularly cares.”

Well, if this was the game the young wolf wished to play, Rowan could certainly oblige him. So he made sure his face was carefully blank before he replied. “Whatever my queen wants.”

The scent of pepper and burnt wood was so strong Rowan could practically feel Aelin’s irritation. But still, he didn’t tear his eyes away from the young warrior-prince.

And Aedion just stared right back, stared as if he were used to everyone quickly looking away, stared as if this was the first time his power had been truly questioned in years. And it made Rowan realize that Aedion had actually expected that Rowan would yield to him. Without a fight.

If they were in Doranelle –  or actually even if they were just outside, and not in this tiny wooden box where neither of them could escape Aelin’s watchful gaze – Rowan would make the demi-Fae pay for his insolence.

He wouldn’t kill him – no, just teach the warrior-prince a lesson he would be unlikely to forget.

It didn’t matter that Aedion was her family, didn’t matter that Aelin might care for her cousin more than she did for Rowan. Didn’t matter that she and Aedion had so much more history, or that they carried each other’s scents – Rowan was her bloodsworn. Her carranam.

Rowan was Aelin’s Second until she informed him otherwise. And Aedion would have to learn to accept that. Just as Rowan would accept whatever place Aelin decided that Aedion would take in her court. Even if that place was in her bed.

Rowan heard the brush of fabric as Aelin leaned against the sink, folding her arms tight against her chest. “If you’re going to have a pissing contest, can you at least do it on the roof?”

Once again, Rowan was the one to break their stare, turning to look at Aelin with his brows raised. Pissing contest?

She just frowned at him. Don’t kill my cousin, please.

“She says we’re no better than dogs,” Aedion said, filling the silence. “So I wouldn’t be surprised if she actually believes we’d piss on her furniture.”

But as he spoke, the warrior-prince’s scent wafted over Rowan, and this time, it was easy to smell Aelin on him. To pick the scent apart, note by note, and sense every emotion, every facet.

Rowan could taste the snow on him, the winds of Terrasen. Could taste the years of the sweat and blood of battle. Could even taste the Fae blood pumping through his veins – the wildness, and the magic. And then Rowan got that feeling again, that feeling of something familiar…something he just couldn’t quite place.

That familiar thing wasn’t Aelin after all. It was something else – someone else…

“Aedion needs a bath, too, I know,” Aelin said, noticing his strange concentration.. “He insisted on smoking a pipe at the taproom. He said it gave him an air of dignity.”

Rowan tilted his head to the side, sniffing at the air, only barely registering Aelin’s words.

Aedion realized that Rowan was scenting him, and he shifted in his seat, his face twisting into a concerned, inquisitive expression. A look that Rowan knew very well. It was an expression he had seen thousands of times before, in hundreds of planning sessions, war councils, or in casual conversations over a few drinks.

A look he had seen on Gavriel’s face. And the missing piece of that familiar scent fell into place.

The fur, the warmth – the young wolf in front of him was the son of the Lion.

The words came slow. “Your mothers were cousins, Prince, but who sired you?”

Aedion didn’t shift an inch. “Does it matter?”

“Do you know?” Rowan pressed.

Aedion shrugged. “She never told me – or anyone.”

Aelin was catching on far more quickly than her cousin. “I’m guessing you have some idea?” she hedged.

Rowan turned to look at her. “He doesn’t look familiar to you?”

“He looks like me.”

“Yes, but – ” Rowan sighed. “You met his father. A few weeks ago. Gavriel.”

Rowan thought he might be able to hear a pin drop – in the next town over.

Shock billowed through the room like clear smoke, and all three of them were completely, perfectly still. Rowan could practically hear the gears turning in Aelin’s mind as she worked through it, piecing it all together – the timelines, the heightened strength, the strange way Gavriel had acted while at Mistward –

“He asked me,” Aelin murmured. “He asked me how old I was, and seemed relieved when I said nineteen.”

Rowan only nodded. He remembered that time for himself, that time two decades earlier.

Rowan and Lorcan had been off, representing their Queen somewhere in the far East. In a court that had treated them well, but bored them to tears. Gavriel, however, had been in Varese. Where he had obviously met Aedion’s mother, and gotten her with child.

Then abandoned her, and never spoke of her again.

Aedion’s voice was hoarse as he finally spoke. “The Lion is my father?”

Rowan just nodded at the young general, at the son of his oldest friend. This would change everything.

“Does he know?”

“I bet seeing Aelin was the first time he wondered if he’d sired a child with your mother. He probably still doesn’t have any idea, unless that prompted him to start looking…”

As he spoke, for the first time, Rowan found himself considering his own history.

For over two hundred years, he’d traveled the world. Bedding without thought, without consequence. It was difficult for the Fae to conceive, that was true. But for all he knew, he had a child waiting for him out there somewhere.

Rowan had never felt more reckless and irresponsible than he did in that moment, looking at the child that Gavriel had left behind.

That kind, compassionate male, the leader who had tattooed the names of his fallen men on his own skin, had thoughtlessly abandoned his own son. If Gavriel had been capable of that, than what had Rowan been capable of? Cold, heartless male that he had been?

Aedion was just looking back at him. But this time, the stare was made of nothing – no fire, no challenge. It was empty. And Aelin seemed to be getting worried. She moved towards the table, her hand reaching out to brush her cousin’s. The touch soft, gentle.

Their eyes met, and Rowan couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that cut through him. “This changes nothing,” Aelin said, her expression open, and kind. “About who you are, what you mean to me. Nothing.”

There was a moment of silence while Aelin brushed her thumb over the back of Aedion’s hand, trying to give him what small comfort he could. It made Rowan’s heart ache.

Suddenly, she pivoted back to face him. “What does this mean where Maeve is concerned? Gavriel is bound through the blood oath, so would she have a claim on his offspring?”

“Like hell she does,” Aedion spat.

Rowan paused for a moment, considering. His voice was gentle when he spoke. “I don’t know. Even if she thought so, it would be an act of war to steal Aedion from you.”

“This information doesn’t leave this room,” Aelin said, calm and calculating. “It’s ultimately your choice, Aedion, whether to approach Gavriel. But we have enough enemies gathering around us as it is. I don’t need to start a war with Maeve.”

But she would. She would start a war for him, if he asked her to. Rowan could see it in her eyes. And he couldn’t help but wonder if she would do the same for him.

“It stays with us,” Aedion managed to choke out, his voice rough. Once again, the boy’s eyes met his - that challenge smoldering there once again.

But this most recent stand-off didn’t last particularly long.

Aelin clicked her tongue at them. “Stop doing that alpha-male nonsense. Once was enough.”

Rowan didn’t so much as blink. “I’m not doing anything,” he said, perhaps a little too innocently.

“Insufferable,” Aelin muttered, giving Rowan a playful shove. “Are you actually going to get into a pissing contest with every person we meet? Because if that’s the case, then it’ll take us an hour just to make it down one block of this city, and I doubt the residents will be particularly happy.”

Rowan finally turned away from Aedion, letting their stare break with a near-audible snap. He did Aedion the courtesy of pretending not to hear his quiet, relieved sigh.

Particularly as Aelin was truly getting annoyed with him. I thought I asked you to leave my cousin alone.

You just told me not to kill him, not that I had to leave him alone.

Aelin’s frown deepened as she crossed her arms, waiting.

Rowan pursed his lips. “It’ll take time to adjust to a new dynamic,” he admitted, somewhat reluctantly.

Aelin seemed almost shocked that he’d said even that much. Rowan grumbled at her.

Aedion, however, was riding a high. Rowan could hear the blood thrumming in his veins, and his muscles were stretched tight as a drum in that chair he was pretending to lounge in. “Aelin never said anything about sending for you.”

Rowan’s eyes slid back to the wolf’s, icy and intent. “Does she answer to you, General?”

Aelin just rolled her eyes, obviously deciding to treat the tension building between the two males as if it didn’t exist. “You know he didn’t mean it that way, so don’t pick a fight, you prick.”

Aedion stiffened, catching the insinuation beneath Aelin’s statement. And now Rowan had to hide a victorious smile.

If she was asking Rowan to stand down, then it was because she was worried that Rowan would hurt Aedion. Meant that she thought Aedion was the one who needed protecting, that Aedion was the lesser warrior.

But Aelin probably didn’t know that – and she had never been a bloodsworn warrior either. So no matter how loyal, no matter how caring or compassionate, she had no idea the lengths to which Rowan would go to keep her safe. No idea how solidly, how permanently, he stood behind her. Even on the smallest of things.

“I’m blood-sworn to you,” Rowan tried to explain, “Which means several things, one of which being that I don’t particularly care for the questioning of others, even your cousin.”

Before the words were even all the way out, Rowan knew that he had made a mistake.

Aelin had gone pale as a ghost, freezing in place. And Rowan found himself searching for his magic, reaching out to test shields that were no longer there, calling the winds towards him to sense for any unwelcome intruders. But he had no powers to call.

Instead, he scented the air, his mind straining to listen for even the smallest of noises. But there was nothing. Only the sound of Aedion’s ragged breathing.

The wolf was a man whose whole world had come falling about his ears. And he was looking at Aelin with more than just shock, more than just hurt. His eyes were filled with the pain of betrayal.

Of a betrayal so close, so unexpected, that it shattered the very air to pieces.

Rowan found himself preparing to leap in front of Aelin, preparing to rip into the young warrior-prince with everything he had if he made so much as one move towards his queen.

“What did he just say?” The boy’s words were excruciatingly soft.

Aelin squared her shoulders, her words clear and steady. “Rowan took the blood oath to me before I left Wendlyn.”

“You let him do what?”

Aelin raised up her hands, whether to soothe or protect, Rowan wasn’t sure. Nor did he have any idea why the hell Aelin had kept this a secret from her cousin. Though judging by this reaction, she might have simply been scared.

But perhaps…was Aelin ashamed of him?

But her voice didn’t shake. “As far as I knew, Aedion, you were loyally serving the king. As far as I knew, I was never going to see you again.”

“You let him take the blood oath to you?” Aedion was bellowing now, and it took all of Rowan’s self-control to keep from stepping between the two cousins, to keep from lunging at Aedion and knocking him to the floor.

Then, all of a sudden, Aedion was leaping towards the fireplace, his arms reaching towards the trinkets atop the mantelpiece.

But before his fingers got within an inch, Aelin had flung out a vicious finger and was advancing on him, Rowan following close behind. “You break one thing, you shatter just one of my possessions, and I will shove the shards down your rutting throat.”

Aedion spat at her feet, but didn’t move another inch towards the fireplace. “How dare you? How dare you let him take it?”

“I dare because it is my blood to give away; I dare because you did not exist for me then. Even if neither of you had taken it yet, I would still give it to him because he is my carranam, and he has earned my unquestioning loyalty!”

Rowan kept very still.

“And what about our unquestioning loyalty?” Aedion roared, “What have you done to earn that? What have you done to save our people since you’ve returned? Were you ever going to tell me about the blood oath, or was that just another of your many lies?”

Aelin snarled, vicious and intense. And from the look on Aedion’s face, Rowan could tell that he had forgotten she had Fae blood in her too. The idiot.

“Go have your temper tantrum somewhere else.” Aelin said. “Don’t come back until you can act like a human being. Or half of one, at least.”

Aedion just swore at her, foul and filthy, and before Rowan could stop himself he was lunging towards Aedion, knocking aside the furniture hard enough to flip it over –

But then Aelin threw out her hand. Stopping him in his tracks.

Aedion looked at him and laughed, the sound brittle and cold. Then smiled at Rowan in that infuriating, overconfident way. A smile that had started a thousand brawls. A smile that Rowan had seen countless times on Lorcan’s, Fenrys’, and even his own, face.

So Rowan knew exactly what lay behind it. And he also knew exactly how he would strike Aedion down if the wolf pup decided to take it beyond just a smile.

Rowan carefully moved back to the chair, righted it, and sat down, casually as anything. But before Aedion could react, Aelin pointed at the door. “Get the hell out. I don’t want to see you again for a good while.”

Aedion didn’t hesitate before striding over to the front door and flinging it open so hard he nearly ripped it off its hinges. And then it shut behind him with a soft, very final, click.

Silence fell in the apartment as Aedion’s footsteps faded away down the stairs, until Aelin stood and walked into her bedroom, beginning to pace. She didn’t shut the door behind her, so Rowan figured it was alright for him to follow behind her.

After a moment’s consideration, he perched on the edge of the mattress, which was exactly as plush as he’d expected it to be. For long minutes, Aelin didn’t even acknowledge him.

She was turned inwards, her thoughts battling with each other, her scent a raging cloud of anxiety and anger and regret and fear. And Rowan wanted to pummel Aedion into the dirt for making her load any heavier.

His queen carried more burdens than anyone should have to, burdens heavy enough to curve the spine of even the most hardened warrior. Seeing her struggle like this – it was enough that Rowan had to physically force himself to keep from launching himself into the night after that arrogant warrior-prince.

He understood why Aedion was enraged, he really, really did. If Aelin had rejected him in such a way – he would have felt exactly the same. He probably would have felt worse. But never, not in a thousand lifetimes, would he have ever made that reaction her problem.

Rowan wondered if Aedion was always so hot-headed, so volatile, or if this reaction was because the circumstances were so extreme. He wondered if Aedion would make a good King.

Rowan decided to give the male the benefit of the doubt. He owed Aelin that much at the very least – after spending so many weeks thinking the worse of her, without any justification.

Even if that anger, that hatred, had mostly been a reaction to this inexplicable, undeniable feeling, this thing between them. Even then, in Varese, it had been there. And it had scared the shit out of him.

But still, Aelin had always been older than her years. Older and wiser. And by contrast, Aedion just seemed so young. Rowan was sure the male was experienced in war, and even in playing the role he had been forced into in Rifthold’s royal court. But at negotiating? Maneuvering? Compromise? Rallying enemy forces to their cause? Rowan was less sure.

But he had to admit, the wolf was indisputably powerful. The rage and aggression and power that had come off of him – Rowan didn’t think he’d seen its like from any other demi-Fae than Lorcan.

The boy had potential. Potential that Rowan would have to figure out how to harness, to use to their goals. To form the beginnings of Aelin’s royal court. For no matter any reservations Rowan might have about Aedion, it was clear that it would be the three of them who would form its backbone.

Still, Aelin hadn’t ceased her pacing. At this rate, she was in danger of wearing a track into the rug before the fireplace.

“If that’s any indication of what to expect from our court,” Rowan said at last, “then we’ll never have a dull moment.”

Aelin didn’t bother looking over at him, instead flinging out her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Don’t tease me right now.”

Rowan just waited, knowing she was gathering the words, hating that pain and sorrow and guilt on every line of her body. He’d sell his soul to the dark god to never have her look like that again.

Aelin scrubbed at her face, huffed a short sigh. “Every time I turn around,” she said, approaching the bed and leaning against the carved post, “I feel like I’m one wrong move or word away from leading them to ruin. People’s lives – your life – depend on me. There’s no room for error.”

Rowan could offer her nothing but the truth. “You will make mistakes. You will make decisions, and sometimes you will regret those choices. Sometimes there won’t be a right choice, just the best of several bad options. I don’t need to tell you that you can do this – you know you can. I wouldn’t have sworn the oath to you if I didn’t think you could.”

She sat down on the bed next to him, their thighs close enough to touch. This close, Rowan could see every single fleck of gold in her eyes. This close, it almost felt as though her scent enveloped him like a cloud of mist, like a second skin.

And at the moment, that scent was rife with tension and worry and guilt – like layers of sour spice and rotten fruit. But as the two of them sat together, all of that seemed to fade away, a veil being lifted, to reveal true scent beneath. It caressed him, soft as a bedroom whisper.

Aelin shook her head. “It was so much easier being alone.”

“I know,” he said, clamping down on the instinct to sling his arm around her shoulders and tuck her in close. Instead, he tried to focus on the sounds of the city around them, the light rattling of the windowpane in the wind, the patter of vermin in the streets below, the chirping of birds overhead.

One of the first things he’d wanted to do was survey the apartment, to make sure each and every piece of it was completely secure, to familiarize himself with the space. But then he had let himself be distracted, by Aelin, by Aedion – and so the apartment remained unsafe, and unfamiliar.

Rowan sighed at himself. It made him feel…helpless, to have to do everything the old-fashioned way. To not be able to handle things that had been so simple, so basic, with his magic. He felt off-balance. And at a time when being off-balance could be fatal to her.

The minutes ticked passed in quiet companionship.

“I said some appalling things to him,” Aelin said, eventually.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rowan responded, unable to help the growl. “He said some equally appalling things to you. Your tempers are evenly matched.”

She let out a breathy chuckle, her body finally relaxing into the mattress. “Tell me about the fortress – what it was like when you went back to help rebuild.”

So Rowan smiled as he told her about mining stone and remaking the wall, about working with a Malakai who no longer seemed remotely intimidated by him, about repairing the damage done to the base of the castle where the tunnel had lay hidden.

And when he spoke of training Luca, and of Emrys’ request, Aelin was punching him on the arm and scolding him for disappointing her friends like that. “Why didn’t you stay? Luca obviously needed your help!”

Rowan just shook his head, his face darkening. And here it was, the news he’d been avoiding all night. Not wanting to add yet another weight to the pile on her shoulders.

“Just say it,” she said, with a direct, unyielding sort of look. And Rowan wondered if she realized that for all she complained about his alpha nonsense, she was pureblooded alpha herself.

Rowan took a long breath. “Lorcan’s here.”

She straightened. “That’s why you came.”

Rowan nodded. “I caught his scent sneaking around near Mistward and tracked it to the coast, then onto a ship. I picked up his trail when I docked this evening.” Her face was pale, so he added, “I made sure to cover my tracks before hunting you down.”

Aelin still didn’t say anything, just processing. Adjusting. Recalculating.

His former commander would certainly require some recalculation. He could prove completely disastrous. Rowan really needed to make sure the apartment was secure, as soon as possible.

When she remained silent, Rowan continued. “He doesn’t know you well enough to immediately pick up your scent. I’d bet good money that he got on that boat just to drag me here so I’d lead him to you.”

Aelin swore with creative colorfulness. “Maeve probably thinks we’ll also lead him right to the third Wyrdkey. Do you think she gave him the order to put us down – either to get the key, or afterward?”

“Maybe.” The thought was enough to shoot icy rage through him. “I won’t let that happen.”

Her mouth quirked to the side. “You think I could take him?”

“If you had your magic, possibly.”

Irritation rippled in her eyes – enough so that he knew something else nagged at her. “But without magic, in your human form…You’d be dead before you could draw your sword.”

“He’s that good.”

Rowan gave her a slow nod.

She looked him over with an assassin’s eye. “Could you take him?”

“It’d be so destructive, I wouldn’t risk it. You remember what I told you about Sollemere.” Aelin’s face tightened, remembering, even as the thought of having to destroy Lorcan clanged through him. If it ever came to that, Rowan would know things were truly desperate.

Rowan sighed, shoving those worries aside. They were pointless. “Without our magic, it’s hard to call who’d win. It would depend on who wanted it more.” Once, Rowan might have let him win, let Lorcan end him just to put a stop to his own miserable life, but now… “Lorcan makes a move against you, and he dies.”

Aelin didn’t blink at the violence that laced every word. Another part of him – a part that had been knotted from the moment she left – uncoiled like some wild animal stretching out before a fire.

Aelin cocked her head. “Any idea where he’d hide?”

“None. I’ll start hunting him tomorrow.”

“No,” she said. “Lorcan will easily find us without you hunting him. But if he expects me to lead him to the third key so he can bring it back to Maeve, then maybe …” He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. She let out a hum. “I’ll think about that tomorrow. Do you think Maeve wants the key merely to keep me from using it, or to use it herself?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“Both, then.” Aelin sighed. “The question is, will she try to use us to hunt down the other two keys, or does she have another one of your cadre out searching for them now?”

“Let’s hope she hasn’t sent anyone else.”

“If Gavriel knew that Aedion is his son…” She glanced toward the bedroom door, guilt and pain flickering on her lovely features. “Would he follow Maeve, even if it meant hurting or killing Aedion in the process? Is her control over him that strong?”

“Gavriel …” He’d seen the warrior with lovers over the centuries, and seen him leave them at Maeve’s order. But he’d also been the only male of his cadre who had stopped that night to help Aelin against the Valg.

“Don’t answer now,” Aelin cut in with a yawn. “We should go to bed.”

Rowan immediately tensed, and as casually as he could, he asked, “Where should I sleep?”

She patted the bed behind them. “Just like old times.”

Rowan clenched his jaw. He’d been bracing himself for this all night – for weeks now. “It’s not like the fortress, where no one thinks twice about it.”

“And what if I want you to stay in here with me?” Aelin’s eyes bore into a him, a completely different kind of challenge than the one set by Aedion. But one equally fraught. And one that burned far hotter.

Carefully, Rowan said, “Then I’ll stay. On the couch. But you need to be clear to the others about what my staying in here means.” There were so many lines that needed to be held.

Aelin was off-limits – completely off-limits, for about a dozen different reasons. The stupidest possible thing he could do would be to give in now, to let that desperate, craving part of himself win out so easily. She wasn’t his to claim.

Aelin only shrugged, irreverent as always. “Then I’ll issue a royal decree about my honorable intentions toward you over breakfast.”

Rowan snorted. And though he didn’t want to, he said, “And – the captain.”

“What about him?” she said, a little too sharply.

“Just consider how he might interpret things.”

“Why?”

She’d done an excellent job of not really mentioning him. But there was enough anger, enough pain in that one word, that Rowan couldn’t back down. “Tell me what happened.”

Aelin didn’t meet his eyes. “He said what occurred here – to my friends, to him and Dorian, while I was away in Wendlyn – that it was my fault. And that I was a monster.”

For a moment, blinding, blistering wrath shot through him. And all he wanted to do was to reach out to her, to brush her hand. To cradle her face.

Rowan stayed frozen in place.

She still wasn’t looking at him as she said, “Do you think – ”

“Never,” he said. “Never, Aelin.”

At last she looked up at him, her eyes as old and tired as her throne. Looking nothing like a girl of nineteen.

“If you’re a monster, I’m a monster,” Rowan said, smiling at her gently, but making sure that his fangs glinted in the candlelight.

She let out a rough laugh, close enough that her breath warmed his face. “Just sleep in the bed,” she said. “I don’t feel like digging up bedding for the couch.”

Maybe it was the laugh, or the silver lining her eyes, but he said, “Fine.”

He was such stupid fool when it came to her. He made himself add, “But it sends a message, Aelin.”

She lifted her brows in a way that usually meant fire was going to start flickering – but none came. Both of them were trapped in their bodies, stranded without magic. He’d adapt; he’d endure.

“Oh?” she purred, and he braced himself for the tempest. “And what message does it send? That I’m a whore? As if what I do in the privacy of my own room, with my body, is anyone’s concern.”

“You think I don’t agree?” His temper slipped its leash. No one else had ever been able to get under his skin so fast, so deep. “But things are different now, Aelin. You’re a queen of the realm. We have to consider how it looks, what impact it might have on our relationships with people who find it to be improper. Explaining that it’s for your safety – ”

“Oh, please. My safety? You think Lorcan or the king or whoever the hell else has it in for me is going to slither through the window in the middle of the night? I can protect myself, you know.”

“Gods above, I know you can.” He’d never been in doubt of that.

Her nostrils flared. “This is one of the stupidest fights we’ve ever had. All thanks to your idiocy, I might add.” She stalked toward her closet, her hips swishing as if to accentuate every word as she snapped, “Just get in bed.”

He tried his best to keep his eyes from following them, and failed completely. Then loosed a tight breath as she and those hips vanished into the closet.

How he would survive the weeks to come holed up in this apartment, he had no idea. What with the antagonistic warrior-prince on one hand, and the irresistible queen on the other – the Fae in this house were far too used to getting their own way.

And the month apart had only seemed to increase his attraction to Aelin. The idea of sleeping at her side, his skin inches from hers – all the blood in his body seemed to rush through him, burning as it went.

This was going to be agony.

Rowan stood from the bed, heading to the bathroom to see if washing his face and readying for bed might make him see sense. The cold water helped, but only barely.

When he returned to the bedroom, Aelin was still in the closet, changing. So Rowan gingerly moved over the plush mattress and slid between the silken sheets. The cloth was filled with her scent – and Rowan couldn’t lie to himself and say that he didn’t love it, being wrapped up in her scent.

Another minute passed, and then Aelin emerged, a smirk on her face, and –

Rowan jolted upright, the bed groaning. “What in hell is that?”

Aelin didn’t pause or look over, but he could feel her satisfaction at his outburst. Instead of deigning to answer the question, she just walked into the bathroom, casual as anything.

Rowan barely heard the sound of the tap turning on, the splash of water as she washed her face. He could barely hear anything over the pounding of his heart.

He tried his best to think of something, anything else. But he couldn’t. That image was burned into his mind like a brand.

Aelin had changed into a delicate pink lace nightgown. There were no sleeves, only thin straps that rested atop her shoulders, while the torturous hemline grazed just below her collarbones, the lace trim fluttering slightly as she walked. And through the thin material, Rowan thought he could just see the shapes of her nipples poking through, right at the peaks of her breasts.

But all of that was nothing, nothing, to the rest of the dress. The nightgown fell over the planes of her stomach, pulling in at her waist and highlighting all of her beautiful curves. And coming to an end right beneath her hips, only barely covering her ass and leaving the entire expanse of her long, muscled legs, completely bare.

Rowan was speechless.

When she returned, her face freshly washed, Rowan finally managed to find his voice. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You forgot the bottom part.”

Aelin ignored him, instead walking about the bedroom and blowing out the candles, one by one by one. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“There is no bottom part,” she said, flinging back the covers on her side. “It’s starting to get so hot, and I hate sweating when I sleep. Plus, you’re practically a furnace. So it’s either this or I sleep naked. You can sleep in the bathtub if you have a problem with it.”

Rowan growled, more frustrated than she would ever know. “You’ve made your point.”

“Hmm.” She slid into bed beside him, making sure to keep a careful distance between them. Something that Rowan vaguely remembered wanting, but for the life of him he couldn’t come up with a single reason why.

His very skin ached with need. The need to reach out, to close the space between their two bodies, to feel her skin beneath his hands, to rip that nightgown to shreds –

Rowan breathed, concentrating on slowly freezing his body in place, locking his muscles tight. He wasn’t a rutting child. And he had some gods-damned self-control.

Aelin settled into bed beside him, and for a long moment, the only sounds in the bedroom were the rustling of fabric on skin. She settled with her back to him, the sharp points of her shoulders poking through the skin, those long, ragged scars prominently on display.

The tattoos he had painstakingly inked only a month before had already started to fade in places, making a few of the characters difficult to read. Likely because it had been into scar tissue. He had to actively stop himself from tracing their shapes, from skimming his fingers over the soft expanse of her back…

Rowan’s voice was carefully blank as he said, “I need to fill in the ink a bit more in a few places.”

Aelin turned to face him, her pupils widening in the dark, “What?” she asked, confusedly. As she turned, her breasts spilled out onto the sheets, pressing together under the weight of her arm.

Rowan looked up at the ceiling.

“Your tattoo,” he said. “There are a few spots I need to fill in at some point.”

“Fine,” she said, and Rowan couldn’t be sure, but he almost thought he caught a hint of disappointment in her tone.

Another moment passed in silence, and almost against his will, Rowan found himself saying, “I’ve never seen – clothing like that.”

She rolled back over to face him again, her eyes lit up with a playful delight. “You mean to tell me the females in Doranelle don’t have scandalous nightclothes? Or anywhere else in the world?”

Before he could think twice, Rowan was speaking, “My encounters with other females usually didn’t involve parading around in nightclothes.”

“And what clothes did they involve?”

“Usually, none at all.” He knew he was being reckless, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Aelin clicked her tongue at him. “Having had the utter delight of meeting Remelle this spring, I have a hard time believing she didn’t subject you to clothing parades.”

Rowan turned his face back towards the ceiling, this time because of the image of that repulsive, conniving female. His thoughts couldn’t have been farther from the memory of the time he’d spent with her. “We’re not talking about this.”

Aelin chuckled, the movement making the lace on her collarbones shake slightly. If every night was going to be like this…

“Are all your nightclothes like that?” Rowan asked tentatively.

“So curious about my negligees, Prince. Whatever would the others say? Maybe you should issue a decree to clarify.”

Rowan growled, and Aelin answered through a wide grin. “Yes, I have more, don’t worry. If Lorcan is going to murder me in my sleep, I might as well look good.”

“Vain until the bitter end.”

But Aelin would not relent. “Is there a specific color you’d like me to wear? If I’m going to scandalize you, I should at least do it in something you like.”

“You’re a menace.”

And Aelin laughed, and the sound of that laugh was worth the pain of a thousand nightgowns. Was worth the entire month apart.

And before he knew what he was doing, Rowan said, “Gold. Not yellow – real, metallic gold.”

“You’re out of luck,” she murmured into her pillow. “I would never own anything so ostentatious.”

And through all of his frustration, Rowan was smiling at her.

Soon, Aelin had fallen into a deep sleep, her bare shoulders falling and rising with each breath, the tiniest whine escaping through her nose.  

And yet thirty minutes later, Rowan was still awake, forcibly staring up at the ceiling as he tried to calm the roaring in his blood by sheer force of will. A roaring that was steadily shredding through his self-control.

Shit.

He was in such deep, unending shit.

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#warrior and the wildfire #watw #rowaelin #rowaelin ff #rowan pov #queen of shadows

[bookloverturnedfangirl]

not saying I’d risk it all for the Lion of Doranelle.... but I totally, completely would.

#the DILF energy remains unmatched #Gavriel #throne of glass #tog #sjm #Sarah j Maas

[shallyne]

Gavriel could eat me. One way or another, I'd be fine with it

#If he fr eats me i probably deserved it #throne of glass #gavriel #tog #Gavriel tog #Tog gavriel #The lion of doranelle

[rhyswhitethorn]

Maybe a prompt of "youre nothing but a lovesick puppy after her" for any ship..??

Sorry it took so long, anon! Was having rough time lately, but here’s some Rowaelin for you! This is pre-QoS by the way. Sometimes I wondered what Rowan did before he came over (and intimidated the males of Erilea), so...

That aside, listen to Lovesick by Midnight Fusic! Great track, really.

Lovesick (ROWAELIN)

“You’re nothing but a lovesick puppy after her.”

Prince Rowan Whitethorn slammed his mug of whatever shit drink he ordered down onto the table. The tavern grew eerily quiet and all eyes were on him, but he didn’t give a fuck. He stared into Lorcan Salvaterre’s dark eyes.

His former Commander stared back at him. As if daring him to take another step across the line.

Rowan breathed out through his nose and lifted his mug to take a sip. He had had a long day and needed a good drink, but the best he could get was some watered down wine. The outskirts of Doranelle never had the best to offer, but this would do.

Lorcan chuckled and leaned back into his seat, smiling as if he had won this round. A victory lap outside after their drink, perhaps?

“No, I’m not.”

Gavriel sighed. Rowan knew he hated it when the Commander and ex Second-in-Command started arguing. Always the peacekeeper, Gavriel said, “Drop it, Lorcan, and enough of the Princess. It seems as if you’re the lovesick puppy.” Rowan was surprised at the sudden sarcasm from the Lion of Doranelle, but he hid it. Lorcan just spat at Gavriel’s feet, narrowly missing his boots.

Rowan knew though, that Lorcan was just looking out for him. All that changed when Rowan joined Aelin Galathynius’ court. Now, he was on his own. That was the gift Aelin had given him—a free will, even if he was bloodsworn to her. If he was to worry about her, he had every reason to.

“Why are you following me, anyway?” Rowan asked. He was given orders by his Queen, or Princess as they call her, to stay in Wendlyn. With Lorcan and Gavriel following him around, it seemed as if his only option to get away from them was to head to Erilea.

Gavriel flicked his eyes towards Lorcan, then back to Rowan. It was a quick glance, but Rowan caught it anyway. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Lorcan quickly replied. Rowan narrowed his eyes but Lorcan continued. “I’m just worried. You know how the young Princess is. Brash and arrogant, especially with you.” Lorcan stood up to fetch another drink.

The threat of a sudden burst of temper started rising up in Rowan, but he remembered how helpless she was sometimes. Losing her parents at a young age and being brought up to be Adarlan’s most notorious assassin came with a lot of expectations, if not responsibility. The scars on her back from her time at Endovier had made him realize that. And the fact that she hid it from him so that he wouldn’t pity her? That’s the strength that Aelin has along with her arrogance.

He shuddered at the thought of a seventeen year old being forced to endure inhumane whippings. Thank the Gods she had killed the Overseer, or Gods forbid, he’d go there himself and do it for her.

For his Queen.

Gavriel started to speak, snapping Rowan out of his thoughts. “So what’s your plan now? Are you going to go with her and fight?” Rowan looked at Gavriel suspiciously.

“If I tell you, would you tell Maeve?”

A low blow, but with the blood oath tying them to the Dark Fae Queen, no secrets are safe. Rowan almost released his breath when Gavriel chuckled and said, “No, I’m genuinely curious.”

Rowan looked around, aware that Lorcan was halfway across the tavern. “I’m to stay here until she orders me to come. Or she brings herself here. Either way goes.” Gavriel nodded at that. “What’s Lorcan’s deal?” Rowan brought himself to ask.

Gavriel turned to look at Lorcan, who was pushing away a barmaid who thought it was a good idea to flirt with him. “I don’t know. Ever since Maeve broke your blood oath, things have been very. . one sided with all of us. Everyone has secrets now. Fenrys wants out of the blood oath. Who knows, maybe Lorcan does too? Though I doubt it,” Gavriel quickly finished, seeing that Lorcan was on his way back.

Rowan was about to cover and change the subject when Lorcan asked, “Do you love her?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Who?”

“Your new Princess.”

“Why are you suddenly asking that?” Rowan asked back. Where was Lorcan going with this?

“We weren’t done. You’re her dog now, and all the interaction between the two of you at Mistward indicated you love her. Who the fuck would try and see if they’re carranam willingly after knowing each other for a few months? And don’t mention the fact that the both of you hated each other at first. Everyone knows how bad your arguments were. You. Love. Her,” Lorcan spat his last three words with venom. 

Rowan was too tired of being pushed around by Lorcan. At one time, he didn’t care, but now without the oath, he was free to fight back. “I loved one person, and one person only. And she’s gone. Don’t think that I would so easily forget my mate because a pretty, young princess was handed as an assignment to me. This,” Rowan pointed at the tattoo on his face, “serves as a reminder for that. I do not love Aelin. She is my Queen, and will choose a suitable consort or King, for that matter.” Even if Aelin did pick him as her consort, he had nothing to offer her. Not even his love, which had all gone to Lyria. Hell, Aelin had someone already back in Adarlan. Rowan was only a part of her court.

Lorcan only smiled, satisfied with Rowan’s answer, and drank his drink down. He placed the mug on the table and clapped Rowan’s back. “Well said, brother. Now, I have things to do and places to be.” 

Rowan only watched Lorcan walk out the door and turned to Gavriel.

He had the look of pity on his face.

Before Rowan could say anything, Gavriel’s deep voice rumbled out. “I know that feeling. There was a time when I almost wanted to break the oath, but she’s gone now and I have nothing left to live for except my honour.”

Out of the five members of his former cadre, Gavriel had always been the understanding one. Rowan smiled softly at Gavriel and nodded. “I guess the both of us have one reason to live. Our own Queens.”

Gavriel smiled back and stood up. “I need to go back now. Maeve intends to send me to Mistward and check on whether there might be more Valg coming after the Demi-Fae or not.” Rowan shook his hand, knowing that this was Gavriel’s way of saying goodbye. He nodded and proceeded to watch another brother walk out the door, a dim flash of golden light coming through the windows.

He smiled when he remembered his Queen had referred to him as his kitty-cat  friend. 

Despite everything he has said about Aelin, he missed her. It had only been two days, but he already feels the need to protect her. Their time together in Wendlyn was short, just a small slot of time in his long life, but Aelin Galathynius had brought excitement and chaos into it. She had gone from the arrogant assassin who had no care in the world and hated Rowan with all her heart to an elegant and smart Queen, and his carranam at that. An honour for him on its own.

Rowan finished his drink and stood, wanting to find a way to help Aelin. He was bored here with nothing to do. He tipped the barmaid and walked out, getting a hint of Gavriel’s scent heading towards Mistward.

Lorcan however. . .

He followed through a bunch of shops, some fountains and down the street. Heading to the docks, he stopped short. 

“The boat to Erilea has sailed. You’re late by ten minutes. Next one’s in two days if the storms can be weathered,” the docker said to him. As if he’s answered it many times before.

Rowan looked at the docker and turned towards the sea. This was where Lorcan’s trail stops. He believed that Gavriel had told him the truth about Lorcan’s intentions. A feeling of dread went through Rowan.

What the hell is Lorcan up to in his Queen’s continent?

#sjm #sarah j maas #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #lorcan salvaterre #gavriel #throne of glass #heir of fire #queen of shadows

[obsession-queen]

Friendly reminder that as soon as Aedion had forgiven and accepted gavriel, the lion of doranelle died by the valg

Have a nice day😁

MWUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

#aedion ashryver #sarah j maas #throne of glass #gavriel #father & son #forgivness #dead #friendly reminder

[pitterpatterpot]

Lion’s Pride: Chapter Twenty-Three

25.    

It would be a lie to say that Aedion isn’t nervous, not that he would ever admit it. His pack is heavy over his shoulder, filled with unnecessary items that Gavriel demanded he’d bring. The forest rustles around them, the sounds of the camp drawing closer. Caius’s letter crinkles in his pocket as a thin and creased warning.

“Aedion,” Gavriel’s warm voice, tinged with humor, rings out. “You do realize that I am not marching you to your death, yes?”

The Lion receives a piercing glare in return. “I’m meeting a fae army.”

“My fae army.”

“You say that as if it’s supposed to calm me,” Aedion growls. “Your brothers and Caius will be there, along with all your soldiers. These males have marched under your command. I have followed your every order. And now they’ll be meeting me.”

“You are a general,” Gavriel says with strong certainty. “Many of them will try to push you, yes, but I believe you will more than be able to hold your own.”

“And if I’m not?”

Gavriel sends him a dry look. Aedion chuckles and flashes a sharp grin.

~~~

“You’re a little short, aren’t you?”

Aedion blinks at the slightly grey-haired fae female in front of him. Her hands are planted on her hips, frowning as she looks up at him. Gavriel himself cocks his head in question, Caius snorting from his position from the fire.

“You come up to my chest,” Aedion flicks his brows up.

“Still,” the female clicks her tongue. “Compared to the Rowan and Gavriel you’re not exactly the longest stick. Do you eat enough? I’ll get you some dinner. Sit down by your father.”

Aedion blinks once again, watching the female stride off in the direction of food. Both Caius and Gavriel cover their mouths to hide their amusement, obviously enjoying the commentary.

“Who,” Aedion turns back to Gavriel, “was that?”

“That was Caius’s sister,” Gavriel chuckles, easing himself down onto a log besides Caius. “Terella.”

“Be prepared to be pampered,” Caius grins. “She’s been desperate to meet you.”

Aedion rolls his eyes, settling onto the log beside Gavriel. They chat for a few minutes, a circle on warriors gathering around their fire. At one point Terrella manages to wedge herself between Aedion and some fae male that decided to join them. She and Aedion quickly sparked a conversation between the differences in their amour and weaponry. Gavriel watches them chatter with a smile sneaking up, eyes glinting in amusement and pride as several males lean forward to hear Aedion’s stories.

“You do know that your brothers are coming, yes?” Caius murmurs, leaning in. “They should be arriving tomorrow at daybreak.”

“I’m aware,” Gavriel nods. “They had the forethought to send an early message this time. Aedion and I look forward to seeing them.”

“That’s good,” Caius lowers his voice further. “There’s something I would like to discuss with you in my tent first.”

Gavriel flicks his eyes over to examine his friend. An unusually grave look has settled upon Caius’s face, the usually dapper male solemn and grim as he stares at Gavriel. Then his eyes flicker to Aedion, something like rage and fear appearing. The change makes something in Gavriel’s chest jolt and in response, he immediately nods and stands.

Aedion looks up at them and grins. “Tired already?”

“Caius is going to show me where our tent is,” Gavriel smiles easily. “It should be right by his. I’ll be back later.”

The night is loud. Half from the warriors laughing around their sporadic fires and half from the crunch of twigs and leaves snapping under the feet of invisible creatures. Gavriel steadily follows Caius to his tent, golden eyes scanning the area and glad to see it devoid of company. Most have set up their fires by the lake off to the side, one of the many rivers that flow from Doranelle. Caius ducks under the tent flap, Gavriel following suit. Inside is a simple chest and bedroll. Both males opt to stand.

“Some bastard has been using ‘Adarlan’s Whore’ an awful lot,” Caius reports bluntly. “Most of the army dismisses it since Aedion’s true alliances to Terrasen are now well known. Many respect him for going to such lengths to revenge his court. However, some believe it would have been… expected of someone like him.”

Of course. The sick knowledge rises up in Gavriel’s throat like a curdled mass of tar. That twisted sense of loyalty that so many fae and courts still have. That he once had to Maeve. So many would nod their heads at the idea of a demi-fae doing such a thing. It would be expected that such a half-breed would be used that way. Unimaginable for a pureblood fae, such a thing would be a disgrace. But a demi-fae? Expandable. A sick way of thinking that Gavriel has encountered many times over the years and never ceased to be disgusted by.

“It’s not only that,” Caius continues. “While some see it as an expectation, others see it as a disgrace. They believe Aedion has no honor, whoring himself to a country he takes an oath to while all along planning to stab them in the back. They see the deceit as dishonorable.”

The words clang through Gavriel’s chest. “He was a child. He did what he needed to do to survive.”

Caius hesitates. “Yes. But he also swore himself to a king he continuously betrayed and plotted to kill.”

“You agree with this?” Gavriel bares his teeth, anger cracking through his usually endless resolve.

“No!” Caius holds up his hands, horror flicking across his features. “Gods above, no. You know me better than that, Gavriel. I’m just trying to make the situation clear to you. To many of the people here, in terms of fae culture-“

“Aedion is dishonest, disloyal, dishonorable and…” Gavriel trails off, the words ticking through his mind like a persistent clock, ever-steady and unending.

“And used,” Caius adds quietly, flinching at Gavriel’s growl. “I’m sorry! I dislike this situation as well, Gavriel. But being whored out, used, taking an oath under false claims and planning betrayal against the king whom he offered services… We know Aedion. I justify everything he has done and your child I see him only in the best light. But there are people here who do not know him. Who only see him as a weak, dishonorable male. I needed to warn you of this before you heard anything yourself.”

“I… I understand,” Gavriel swallows back his anger, hands clenching at his sides and shoulders squaring. “Thank you for alerting me of this.”

“Will you tell Aedion?” Caius eyes the male.

“No,” Gavriel slowly shakes his head. “I will allow Aedion to defend himself if the need arises. The people here shall face the Wolf of the North if they wish to slander Adarlan’s Whore.”

~~~

“I’m not sharing a bedroll with you.”

Gavriel huffs a small breath of laughter as he and Aedion walk towards their tent. “We each have one, Aedion. Caius isn’t that cruel.”

“I am, actually,” the male clicks his tongue, stopping outside his own tent. “Either way, if you bastards hate each other by the end of the night then one of you is sleeping outside because I’m not allowing anyone in my tent.”

With that he ducks inside, the flap falling shut behind him. Aedion blinks.

“He reminds me of Kyllian,” Aedion murmurs to Gavriel, eyes narrowed.

Brows raised, Gavriel turns away. “He reminds me more of you, and I more of Kyllian. I’d have to say that the positions are reversed in this situation, son.”

Snorting, Aedion follows after Gavriel, chuckling quietly. “You think you’re more like Kyllian? Kyllian, who once fell off a tree while drunk?”

“You didn’t know me in my youth,” Gavriel clicks his tongue, holding open the flap of their tent as Aedion ducks inside. “You can ask your uncles once they arrive.”

“I fully intend to,” Aedion smirks, collapsing on his bedroll. “Well, goodnight.”

“Take off your shoes first, and your knives”

“We’re in a war camp. Everyone is armed.”

“Fine,” Gavriel relents. “Just don’t accidentally stab one of your uncles if they come early tomorrow and sneak in.”

They settle down, both familiar with sleeping in tents and on bedrolls. In some cases just sleeping on the bare earth. The heat of Wendlyn presses upon them in a way the cold chill in Terrasen never did. Unlike the quick, sharp knives of frost and ice, the heavy humidity bears down on them like a blanket coated in cement. Smothering their breaths and collecting sweat at the napes of their neck.

“Are you alright?” Gavriel murmurs, noticing Aedion’s displeasure. “I don’t know how you survive with this humidity,” Aedion sighs, wiping the back of his hand against his face.

Gavriel hums. “I’m interested in seeing how you will handle training in it. The environment here is wholly different from Terrasen.”

“Here I’m drowning in my own sweat,” Aedion snorts, shifting.

A comfortable silence drifts across both of them. Gavriel closes his eyes.

“So, does it snow during winter here?”

The corner of Gavriel’s mouth turns up no matter how hard he tries to repress it. “No, it does not.”

“I see.”

Gavriel waits a moment.

“Teralla is nice.”

“She’s lovely.”

“She gave me a knife.”

It takes Gavriel a moment to process the words. Another to compute the happy, simple tone Aedion states this in. A final moment is needed to contain a sigh. Of course, his son would be given weaponry. If he was five years old they would all probably still be handing him swords and shield and the gods know what else.

“And Caius gave me a mace. But that’s not here right now.”

There it is.

“Would you like to show me?” Gavriel asks wryly, asking the question Aedion was obviously waiting for.

His son immediately hands him the blade from Teralla. Gavriel carefully pulls it out of its sheath, even in the darkness of the tent the iron gleaming with its menacing edge. Constellations have been etched into the blade, small and simple yet adding a piece of the night sky into the weapon.

“It’s beautiful,” Gavriel hands it back. “Very finely made.”

“In return, I gave her a knife from the fangs,” Aedion tucks the blade away. “While common in Terrasen they seem to be quite rare here.”

“She would have loved that,” Gavriel closes his eyes. “Tomorrow be sure to tell her about your shields history.”

Aedion hums in agreement. Silence bestows them once more.

“There was also this female that told me she once-“

They stay up for at least another two hours, Gavriel listening attentively to the stories and interjecting when appropriate. He couldn’t help but smile at certain parts, his chest flooding with warmth. Yet when sleep finally came it was a blessing.

~~~

“Why are you so tired?” Caius frowns at Gavriel and the marks under his eyes. “Aedion is awake. You knew you’d be up early.”

“My son contains an ungodly amount of energy that I cannot fathom,” Gavriel rubs at his face. “The youth of today is terrifying.”

“You sound old.”

“We are old, Caius,” Gavriel raises a brow. “We’re two of the oldest individuals here.”

The other male mutters denials under his breath, squinting into the distance. Gavriel smiles at the reaction, turning to watch where Aedion sits atop a boulder to watch for his uncles' arrival.

“Are you sure you won’t tell him?” Caius mutters.

“I’m sure. He’s already impressed half the people here.”

“Yet the more… old-fashioned fae are still stuck in their ways.”

“I don’t care,” Gavriel swallows back a growl. “Aedion can and will handle himself. I’ll only step in if necessary.”

Caius raises his brows yet says nothing. Gavriel ignores the incredulous look, choosing instead to focus as Aedion jumps to the ground. He flings out an arm to point towards a cluster of trees. Two lions prowl forwards from the undergrowth, their muscles sliding under their golden coats and claws sinking into the earth. As soon as they clear the trees a flash of light shines out, two males standing in their place. Marco and Heiral both grin, striding towards them with a purpose. Heiral immediately breaks away to sling an arm around Aedion’s shoulder.

“There’s my favorite nephew,” Heiral grins, jostling Aedion. “How are you holding up with the warriors?”

“Nothing compared to the Bane,” Aedion smirks. “I thought the lot down here would be harder to handle.”

Marco watches them bicker and shakes his head. “How have things really been?”

“Some tension, but otherwise fine,” Gavriel crosses his arms. “The holiday season is repressing conflict.”

“Yet sometimes,” Marco hums, “it put extra pressure on that conflict.”

Gavriel eyes his brother, uncomfortable with the truth in the words. “Are you here to stir that conflict, brother?”

“No,” Marco admits silently. “Not at all. But I’ve heard the rumors. Heiral hasn’t.”

Surprise springs from Gavriel. He glances at Aedion and Heiral, at how they laugh and jostle at each other. If Heiral were to find out blood would spill, not just on the land they are standing on but in Terrasen also. There is no doubt to Gavriel that Heiral would gladly hunt down all offenders that dared to lay their hands on Aedion. If Heiral did decide to hunt so would Marco. Gavriel would have hesitation, if only because he would need Dorian and Aelin’s permission to kill members of their nations. He doubts they would hesitate to give him clearance.

“Keep Heiral away from the dissent creators,” Gavriel orders quietly. “We need to avoid as much confrontation as possible.”

Marco nods, yet doubt clouds his eyes. Gavriel understands, really he does. How long will it take before the strain in the camp snap? He’s seen the way Aedion’s shoulders stiffen at times when his son’s smirk turns threatening instead of jovial. No doubt insults have already been flung. All that can be hoped is that they avoid a full out brawl.

~~~

The answer to Gavriel’s previous question is seven hours. Seven hours later, into midday, is when the shouts ring out and Heiral roars with blood covering his fist and spraying across his chin.

It took three minutes for word to reach Gavriel on the other side of the camp.

One minute for him to tear through the crowds to his brother.

Thirty seconds to haul Heiral off the cursing fae guard.

And ten seconds to register Aedion’s shocked expression, his son standing off to the side.

“What happened?” Gavriel growls, spinning Heiral to face him as soldiers drag the injured fae away.

“He said that Aedion whored himself for the king of Adarlan,” Heiral trembles with his rage, spitting the words. “That he lay with whoever he needed to succeed.”

“Heiral-“

“Those lies-“

“Just-“

“It’s true,” Aedion’s voice slices through them, the younger male pushing forward to claps Heiral’s bicep. “I was Adarlan’s Whore. I had to sleep with many people, both by choice and otherwise.”

Stuttering in his movements, Heiral turns to look at Aedion, something in his eyes softening immeasurably. “Oh, boyo. I’m-“

“We need to go somewhere more private,” Marco interrupts, eyeing the muttering fae around them. “In case you all forgot, everyone here can hear you quite clearly.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Aedion shrugs one shoulder. “They’ve heard the stories and come to their own conclusions. They don’t deserve any concern.”

“Damn right,” Heiral growls, tawny eyes flickering over to the bleeding fae. “Just let me-“

“Now, Heiral,” Gavriel tugs his brother’s arm. “To the tent. We need to keep a full fight from fermenting.”

Indeed, many of the fae are teetering amongst themselves. Whispering stories and rumors to another, some starting small arguments as they look to Aedion than away again. Gavriel mutters a quick word to Caius, who calls out to the warriors and starts to disband them, making his way to the bleeding fae and leading him away. Relenting, Heiral allows his brothers and Aedion to drag him to where their tents stand.

“I didn’t realise there’d be such a fuss over me,” Aedion leans against a tree, arms crossed. “In Terrasen most people just mutter about this shit then move on.”

Gavriel almost feels like calling Aedion out on the lie, on pointing out all the slurs and accusations his son's faces but stays silent. The bravado is there for a reason.

“No one here blames you for what happened in Adarlan,” Marco holds Aedion’s gaze. “None of us do.”

“Some of it was my choice, you know,” Aedion flicks his brows up. “I did make the conscious decision to fuck my way up the ranks at times.”

Gavriel captures his breath in his chest, waiting for his brother’s reactions.

“Of course you damn did,” Heiral frowns. “Who wouldn’t? I remember when Gavriel first started in the military and had a tizzy with his commander, a lovely female named-“

The Lion is immediately shooting his brother a ferocious growl, cutting him off as Aedion whirls around to stare at his father. Marco shakes his head, sending his eyes upwards to the stars.

“What Heiral means,” Marco drags back the conversation, “is that we accept everything that occurred. We are proud of you, not ashamed. For the things that were your choices and the things that weren’t.”

Aedion looks away, mouth set into a hard line as a not-quite-steady breath flows through his chest. All males stand in silence, allowing the weight and emotion of those words to pass through them all before continuing.

“That’s the reason for distaste in the camp,” Heiral shakes his head. “Some people here feel for you while others scorn you. “

“Like usual,” Aedion snorts. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the words leave Gavriel in a rush. “Many here already love you. Terella dotes on you, and Caius sees you as a nephew already.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Aedion’s mouth, joy sparkling in his blue eyes. Gavriel knows that they aren’t the only fae Aedion had connected with, his son meeting many young demi-fae like himself, finding solace in being around people with the same abilities as his for once. It’s been a joy to find his son sparring with others so similar to him in species, build and abilities.

Yet in Gavriel’s opinion his son outweighs them all.

“Caius and Terella are taking care of the male,” Gavriel frowns at Heiral. “They will sort out the situation. For now, it’s best that everyone retires for the night and we allow all this to rest.”

Thoughts swirl so violently through Gavriel’s head that he barely registers how quiet Aedion is. His son collapses on the bedroll and stares at the roof of the tent in contemplation. Gavriel finally notices this when he sits down, realising after five minutes that Aedion hasn’t started a conversation right when they are about to sleep.

“Are you alright?” Gavriel asks quietly.

“I was foolish enough to think it would be different here,” Aedion snorts, folding his hands on his stomach. “The only place I don’t have to put up with this bullshit is when I’m with the Bane.”

“We can go back if you want,” Gavriel ignores the pang in his chest, at the idea that his son is as uncomfortable around his father’s own army, own comrades, as he is everywhere else.

“No,” Aedion frowns, sitting up. “Fuck, no. I’m enjoying myself. It’s just a few bastards pissing me off.”

“Your language becomes appaling when you’re in a war camp,” Gavriel allows a scolding tone to seep into his voice.

Aedion seems to turn just a little sheepish under Gavriel’s stare. “Force of habit.”

“Break that habit.”

“I will when you’re around,” Aedion grins. “So… Caius and Terella are looking after that fae male?”

“They are,” Gavriel agrees. “All though I wouldn’t say they are ‘looking after’ him. No doubt Terella is tearing into him.”

“She’s terrifying,” Aedion agrees happily. “She taught me yesterday how to remove a person's spleen and spine in the same move.”

“Really?” Gavriel perks up. “Did she show you with the dagger she gave you?”

“She did,” Aedion smiles widely. “We should invite her to Terrasen for the holidays next week. Caius too.”

“That’s right,” Gavriel realises it suddenly. “We’re going back tomorrow…. I’ll ask if they want to come with us.”

~~~

That’s how, five days later, the great hall in Terrasen is filled to the brim. Tinsel across the windows, taels laden with food and fine clothes flashing as people dance to the musicians. Evangeline laughs as she dances with other children, Fleetfoot running around her feet and flowers are woven into her hair courtesy of Aedion.

The cadre members, Lorcan, Vaughan and Fenrys all talk by a large fireplace, drinks in hand as Lorcan scowls and Vaughan smiles slightly at Fenrys’s story, the male drawing in a crowd with his tales. Off to the side, on the dance floor, Rowan and Aelin sway together. The queen keeps one hand on her mates chest, the other holding his own as his broad palm presses against her waits. His silver and green suit matches perfectly with her dress that flourishes out from the waist. Aelin mutters things in his ears that cause him to smirk and others to drift away.

Elide stands next to the buffet with a group of witches and Manon, laughing loudly with her friend. The balcony where Abraxos resides is right next to the table, the giant beast sticking his head in to sniff at the meat only for Manon to growl him away. From time to time Lorcan glances over at them, drifting over to allow Elide to pull him onto the dance floor. He glares at everyone’s laughs, only smiling when Elide tips her head back and booms out laughter when he swings her into the air, pounding in mock anger at his shoulders.

Caius, Terella, Marco, and Heiral stand with Aedion and Lysandra. The shifter holds a deep conversation with Terella, the two of them debating furiously over the benefits of claws versus knives. Marco watches on in fascination as Gavriel and watches Heiral and Aedion poke and prod at the giant pile of presents piled in the corner of the room. The two go so far as to pick some up, Gavriel’s gaze the only thing stopping them from shaking the boxes.

Five days until Yulemas. Yet the party, and company, is already flourishing.

______

Special notice: So it’s been about two years and Lion’s Pride has gone on for so long. On AO3 it’s just reached over 10,000 hits, making it one of the most popular fics in the fandom on the site. All of that is because of how well received it was by tog lovers, and I can’t thank you guys enough. This was my first fic and it honestly wouldn't have made it past the first chapter if it wasn’t for you all xxx ❤️

#lions pride #gavriel #aedion ashryver #caius #the feels #tog

[vegabookishpoetry]

Post KoA! Aedion headcanon

- We know that Aedion has one tattoo, the ‘knot of Terrasen’, over his heart.

-We also know that Aedion has Rowan add Gavriel’s name to the tattoo at the end of KoA

-BUT-and here’s where the headcanon starts

- Shortly after Gavriel is buried, Aedion asks Rowan to give him another tattoo

- Rowan gladly agrees, and takes the time to sketch out and present his idea to Aedion

-The tattoo is a sleeve on his right arm

-The sleeve tells the ‘Lion of Doranelle’s’ story, in the same old fae language of Rowan’s and Aelin’s own tattoos - the same language Gavriel’s tattoos were in

- Gavriel’s story, that of his love for Aedion’s mother, and how Gavriel sacrificed himself to save his son and the country that he loves so much

- “The lion will roar no longer, his life the asking price for defending his cub.”

- It takes several days for Rowan to tattoo this onto Aedion’s arm, they work on it each night until it’s finished.

- Sometimes Aelin and Lysandra sit with them, in solem silence

- Rowan works in silence, occasionally humming the same song we hear him singing while mourning Gavriel’s body in KoA

- By the time the tattoo is finished, Aedion has picked up the tune of the mourning song

- Aedion kneels by his father’s grave, holding his right arm, with the new tattoo, and humming that solem tune

-Aedion vows to never forget what his father gave to him and Terrasen, and that he will never let Terrasen forget

-and prays to whatever gods may be listening that, in the afterlife, Gavriel is reunited with his love, Aedion’s mother

- Aedion prays that in the afterlife, Gavriel knows how grateful he is, and that Aedion had forgiven him long before he fell, and wished to fight alongside, serve Terrasen, and share life with him-his father

- “for the Lion, whose love for his son burned brighter than the stars.”

————

I just finished Kingdom of Ash and needed some closure on Gavriel.

I don’t think I’ll ever be over this.

I’m still crying

#aedion ashryver #gavriel #the cadre #kingdom of ash #throne of glass #aelin #aelin ashryver #rowan whitethorn #lorcan salvaterre #fenrys #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #lysaedion