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mariaofdoranelle · 2 years

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Royal Rebels — Chapter 3: The Dagger

Masterlist

I’ll make up for the angst next week I promise

Word count: 3,4k

CW: mild violence, mild smut. I don’t know if it classifies as NSFW, but I wouldn’t read it at work lol

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Rowan had been so stunned to see Lorcan Salvaterre at Mistward he didn’t do anything until Aelin was pinned against the wall, the position making his canines dangerously close to her throat. Rowan’s chest tightened like Aelin was constricting it herself. That had been his fault. Hopefully, Lorcan could loose his grip on Aelin if properly distracted. But Rowan was counting on her being underestimated by Lorcan and knowing exactly what to do once he did it.

“Tell me what you’re doing here. Now.” The disadvantage of this plan is that it relied on Rowan’s ability to strike conversation. But it didn’t seem to make a difference, Lorcan had just made his big entrance and stopped on his spot, sniffing Aelin with wide eyes. And then he turned towards him. Fuck, had Lorcan noticed her Ashryver scent?

“Whitethorn, I want you to tell me what the fuck have you been planning in Terrasen with your—“

“Excuse me?,” Aelin interrupted, “Whitethorn and I met yesterday.” Rowan knew it was just her cover-up, but his chest managed to tighten more when he heard it. He could always trust Aelin to pretend nothing happened between them.

Lorcan leaned further from Aelin so he could look into her eyes. “Spare me, Galathynius.” Thankfully, it was enough for her to shift her wrist and grab a blade she had under her clothes. Lorcan pushed her into the wall with his body again to stop her, but the only thing he did was give her leverage to press the knife against his crotch.

“It’s Celaena, you dumb fuck!” And then she pressed the blade a bit harder and sneered at him, “You’re not a Whitethorn. Not one of her blood-sworn. I’d like to know who the hell I am about to kill. Now!”

Lorcan went stiff as a board. When Fenrys cackled and joked, “He’s not a blood-sworn, just the mistress,” Aelin seemed even more confused, but the way Lorcan’s lips flattened as he refused to make eye contact with anyone in the room wasn’t fooling Rowan. In the four thousand years of her existence, Maeve had never taken a blood-oath from a demi-Fae, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want Lorcan’s powers for herself, which led to Fenrys’s nickname for when he wanted to irk Lorcan. The mistress. Because of his endless hope of being made official by Maeve, but Fenrys and Vaughan had also a theory that Lorcan was in love with the Fae Queen.

“I came to talk to Emrys and Malakai and followed your scent.”

Rowan snarled, “What the hell do you want with them?”

“The fortress’s can sell their goods at Doranelle if they wish to. Just for the bigger fairs, though.” Of course it’d come to that, Maeve was collecting so much from the farmers some of them didn’t have enough to eat and sell. Many small peasants had to choose between selling their products and starving their families.

“At what cost?”

“They won’t be taxed at the bridges, just for the income at the fair.”

“Doesn’t your queen have royal messengers for that?” Dorian interjected.

Lorcan sighed. “They’re facing some hostility, Maeve is sending stronger people for now.” That, Rowan didn’t doubt.

Aelin threatened Lorcan’s manhood harder. “Thanks for the heads up, not-blood-sworn. Now you’ve interrupted our friendly hangout enough.”

Lorcan barked a laugh. “Do you expect me to believe this after you brought an entire army to Wendlyn’s coast, Princess?” The room was deadly silent after this, and Rowan was feeling like his stomach was free-falling inside himself. Maeve had eyes everywhere, so he had his suspicions about her knowing. To have it confirmed was another thing. Even if everyone could somehow hide their crumpled, fearful faces, the room still reeked of panic. Lorcan was the only one grinning, and there was no doubt he’d tell Maeve everything he saw here like the good puppy he was. Rowan didn’t mind dying, he just never thought it’d be under such humiliating circunstancies. Lorcan released Aelin, but that wasn’t enough to let her relax. On his way to the door, he just sighed and said, “You brought this upon yourselves.” And then he gazed at Fenrys. “I’m going to Southeastern Doranelle soon and your parents thought you’d be hiding at a manor there, so they gave me this.” Lorcan dropped a letter with the Moonbeam seal at the table and went away like nothing had happened.

Everyone remained sat like statues after this, without saying a thing. There was no mood to continue the meeting when they were trying to process the new target on their backs. The four of them stayed together until they could see Lorcan leaving from the tiny window at the study. When he went out of sight, all of them relaxed. A little.

“Well, at least there was no killing today.” Fenrys tried to brighten up the mood even if he was as white as his wolf form.

“That’s the scariest part for me. Makes me wonder if he didn’t kill us because Maeve has plans.” The Havilliard prince couldn’t be more accurate. If Lorcan could kill them to make Maeve’s life easier and get minimal recognition, he would’ve.

Looking at her hands, Aelin said, “I have things to do. I’m leaving.” Considering the stress they were all in, she probably was going to burn something soon.

“I overheard people talking about damage on the crops. Emrys might ask you to burn the insects.” Actually, Rowan had no idea how pest control was done here, but that seemed to work when Aelin nodded her head and left the room without looking at him. The corner of Dorian’s lips had a gentle tug when he looked at his distressed friend, nodded at Rowan with firm eye contact and trailed behind her.

When Aelin left the study, it was like half the pressure inside the room vanished too. Rowan leaned back on his chair and sighed. Her presence in a room always made the air feel hotter. Not too much, but enough to make Rowan’s skin tingle. The fact that they weren’t in speaking terms now only made it worse.

Looking at his side, he noticed Fenrys was reading his letter with a frozen expression. Rowan didn’t know the other Moonbeams closely, but he had an idea about what the letter entailed. Maybe it was because he was partially raised by an uncle who was fully focused on Sellene’s education, but Rowan always found Fenrys’s parents too overstepped. Annoying and narrow-minded too. At first, he stayed away from Fenrys as much as he could thinking he’d be just like his parents, and apart from the latter, Rowan was actually right. The boyo was overstepping and annoying just like his parents, but in a tolerable, almost nice way.

Fenrys drew a long-suffering sigh and closed his letter.

“What happened?”

“Do you want to read it?”

Rowan eyed the stack of papers on his friend’s hand. “I didn’t even read the letters they sent to me.” When Maeve’s lackeys researched his properties, he really hoped they wouldn’t put the ashes from all the letters he burned in an urn and give to Uncle Ellys thinking it’s Rowan’s parents.

Fenrys bit his lip, stifling his amusement. He wasn’t one to be upset about something for too long, but he didn’t like to be distracted from his sulking when the situation called for it.

“They said that if Maeve doesn’t recognize me as a citizen, they can’t recognize me as a Moonbeam. I mean, my dad literally told me my name for now on is just Fenrys, which actually sounds neat if we keep the context out.” He released a bitter chuckle and looked down to his feet. “They also rue the day I started training with you because apparently you turned out to be a bad influence.”

Rowan kept the chuckle that was forming on the back of his throat to himself, but couldn’t help his snarky comment. “I don’t remember cornering them everywhere in Doranelle for months.” In fact, meeting Fenrys was one of the most infuriating experiences of Rowan’s life. After being borderline harassed by the Moonbeams, he told them he couldn’t unofficially train their son who refused to go to the army because he spent his whole day at the base. Half a day later, there was a 30-years-old scrawny blonde Fae sat atop his office desk.

Fenrys sent him a watery smile. “Anyway, they haven’t spoken a word of Connall, do you think I should reach him?”

Rowan just shrugged. He didn’t like to meddle in their rocky relationship.

For a few minutes, Fenrys just fiddled with his hands, looking inward. Until Rowan got up from his seat, at least.

“Come on, Boyo.”

Fenrys sent him a skeptical look.

“We’re going to see the baby chickens.”

That was enough to brighten his friend up a little. “Are you playing with them?”

“I’ll... Sit by their side,” Rowan said with narrowed eyes.

“And feed them?” Fenrys got up from his seat, ready to see the farm animals.

Rowan sighed. “And feed them.”

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The next day, Rowan woke up with the reminder to write Sellene’s letter and pondered about what exactly he would tell her, and how he would do it. He also couldn’t stop thinking about the shock that was seeing Aelin and Dorian here. This was likely the most vulnerable situation these two were ever in, considering they were used to strong castles and multiple guards. To top that, one of the most powerful monarchs in the world would be on their backs soon. On Rowan’s back too now, he mused.

He would soon have to choose between fighting on Aelin’s suicide mission or hiding for Mala knows how long, until Maeve died. Knowing himself, he already knew what was going to happen, but there was still time to be in denial about it. And about the fact that he’d have to learn a way to live in the same place as Aelin without feeling he’s being stabbed in the stomach. It would be fine.

After breakfast Rowan stopped at Aelin’s room. The door was open, but he just leaned on the threshold with his arms crossed. She was applying on her hair something that smelled a lot like Fenrys, so he must have taught her one of the homemade hair recipes he uses. Aelin didn’t bat an eye at him, but she must have sensed his smell by now. In fact, Rowan was aware he should say something, but watching her get ready for the day was one of his favorite things to do back in Terrasen, and he was too weak to break that little bubble by now and face Aelin’s anger.

“What do you want, Whitethorn?” she demanded while braiding her hair.

“I’m waiting. We’re going to the town nearby.”

She slowly turned to him and said in a carefully controlled tone, “Excuse me?”

Rowan sighed. “Fenrys told me you need shoes. I send Sellene’s letter, you buy the shoe, and we can be back for dinner if we leave now.”

“My shoes are perfectly fine, thanks.”

Rowan gave a pointed look at them. They were usable, at least. He had seen peasants wearing much worse, but he was sure Philippa would have a heart attack if she knew the state of Aelin’s shoes, even if he didn’t know her servant that much.

Before he could say anything, Aelin placed her dagger above her cheekbone and used it to help her apply eyeliner. Rowan was almost telling her to be careful to not hurt her eye when he noticed the dagger.

That gods-damned dagger.

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“I think we should go to Suria.”

Rowan sighed. “I really don’t want to know what will happen if we take a seven-month vacation.”

During dinner, Lord Suria invited them to stay at his beach estate until the snow starts to fall, which would be mid-autumn. There was no way they could do that, and Fenrys knew it. He had no idea how Maeve let him have a six-week vacation, and she hasn’t responded to his letter letting her know he would actually be absent for four months. Rowan just hoped he wouldn’t lose his job at the end of this.

“Relax, it’ll be fine,” Fenrys sing-sang, giving Rowan a lazy slap on the back.

“I’ll have to wait at least half a decade to request Maeve your lieutenant position.”

“You’re not asking her shit.” Fenrys soon sobered up.

They had this discussion over and over. After being dumped at the base to train during Rowan’s spare time, Fenrys never really left. If Fenrys requested Maeve the position he unofficially had, he would be recognized for the wars he fought and finally be paid for his work. Instead, he only declared he didn’t want to be “chained to the government.” And Rowan never understood this statement because Fenrys didn’t want to make a commitment, but he was already one of the most loyal Fae Rowan had ever met. In fact, the only promise Fenrys repeatedly breaks is when he says things will be fun.

I just convinced Sellene and Vaughan to see a play with Fae acting in their animal forms. Why don’t you come with us? It will be fun!

Essar is throwing Lorcan a surprise birthday party. Why don’t we stop by? It will be fun!

We reached Varese right before Galan’s trip to Terrasen. Why don’t we join him? It will be fun!

Sometimes Fenrys’s plans were, in fact, fun. A lot of them weren’t, though. Just like his plan to come to Terrasen, where Rowan ended up on the verge of making an international mess because of Aelin. He didn’t know what would happen if Fenrys and his crazy people skills haven’t charmed the whole castle in a matter of days. Even though things were under control, Rowan definitely didn’t want to spend months at Suria. The lord was likable, but social gatherings were mostly tiresome because people were either scared of him, or interested in his military history only.

“Ro, I think you have a visitor.” Fenrys snapped him out of his thoughts.

It wasn’t hard to smell the lavender, lemon verbena and embers leading to his room. Rowan sighed. Fenrys was trying not to laugh at him, but his shoulders were shaking too much to hide anything. They didn’t say anything, Fenrys just waved at him before entering his room and mouthed Good luck before Rowan continued his way like nothing was happening.

When he opened his door, Aelin did an admirable effort to immobilize him against the wall, but Rowan didn’t even fight her. He knew she was too scared of the repercussions of his murder to do anything,

“Good evening, Princess. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Aelin was on her tiptoes, but he still had to bend his head down to look her in the eye. While she held her dagger on this throat, the same from the day they met, her cheeks were flushed and her angry expression made her nose wrinkle at the top. Looking up at him like this, she looked almost… cute.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“You were the one who initiated this meeting. Is the Whitethorn-Galathynius Treaty over?”

Aelin’s nostrils flared, and she leaned closer. “You’ve already infiltrated yourself in my castle and became buddies with my Court, now tell me what you really want so you can leave and finally give me some peace.” Rowan’s eyes sparkled at that.

“Are you mad because of Suria’s invitation? Or is it just jealousy because he’s not your biggest fan?”

Aelin tightened her hold on the dagger and pushed her body against Rowan’s to hold him further against the wall. Rowan couldn’t help but notice the way she had to expose her neck further each time they got closer. He licked his lips.

“Okay, Whitethorn, here’s the thing. I don’t know what hidden agenda you have planned with Maeve, so I need you to cooperate and spill,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have a hidden agenda, Princess.” Her title fell from his lips like a sneer before his eyes looked down at her body, coming back quickly since he couldn’t see it properly due to their proximity. Rowan breathed deep, and her body resisted his ribcage’s attempt of getting more space. The friction of their chests against the layers of clothing that separated them made him conclude, “You’ll see that I tend to be very straightforward about what I want.”

“How so?” Aelin thrusted her chest even closer, and her quick breaths didn’t help with the friction.

He held her waist on a tight grip. “You want me to show or tell?”

She hesitated, but then said, “Both.”

Aelin’s grip on the dagger was loose enough by now for Rowan to lean down and kiss her. The first moment his lips touched hers, it was already working just like ancient Fae wine, numbing him slowly. Even if she managed to taste even better. Then her mouth invited him in, and Rowan felt like he was free-falling inside himself. Aelin’s tongue felt completely poisonous, and he couldn’t let go. His hand cradled the back of her neck, pleading for more, and Aelin gripped his hair too. Just because she knew what he wanted, she pulled back and painfully dragged her teeth through his lower lip. They kept eye contact for a few seconds and it wasn’t enough for Rowan to decipher her expression, so they just went back to kissing.

“Aelin?”

“What?” she tried to snap, but was too hazy.

He forced her to look at him by gripping her hair and pressed himself against her harder.

“I want you to call me by my name.”

“Why?” she asked a little breathless.

He made sure their noses were touching and his lips hovered right above hers. “Because when I fuck your pretty little cunt, I want to be the only person you scream about. You hear me?”

He kissed her again and pushed his thigh between her legs, which she immediately rode. Rowan’s gaze was intense on her, eyes locked when she cursed and moaned with an arched back. With that, he yanked her head to trail rough kisses on her neck.

Aelin was still loosely gripping her dagger, so Rowan put one hand above hers, gripping it too. With linked hands, he used the blade to cut the ties holding her dress in torturous speed, giving her time to change her mind. However, Aelin held his neck her free hand, pressed their foreheads together and sent a soft plea.

“Rowan.”

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

“I can smell your thoughts from here, Whitethorn.”

She had finished applying her eyeliner and was looking at him now. Gripping the damned dagger.

“Are you going to pretend nothing happened?”

“I’m not pretending anything. You pissed me off, this is me being pissed off.”

“So you’re pissed off because of the way we ended things?”

“Ending things? Is that what you call disappearing into thin air?” Aelin barked, but Rowan had already put a shield to stop other people from hearing their argument. Aelin was glaring at him, her breaths quick, bit Rowan was completely still. Maybe he didn’t put an end to things the best way, but they always knew he would have to leave. They didn’t even have a relationship, for Mala’s sake. That didn’t mean Aelin would ever stop tinging the back of his mind every now and then, though. Seeing he still haven’t responded, she straightened her posture, her chin high.

“I’m not upset you ended things,” Aelin finally answered. “In fact, I’m glad you did. You were nothing more than a bad habit to me.”

Rowan swallowed. Hard. His throat would be less tight if Aelin was crushing it herself. Somehow, it felt like she was. They kept eye contact, both frozen in place, as still as a painting.

“We need to at least be civil to each other if we’re going to work together,” Rowan muttered, changing the path the conversation was heading.

“And who told you I trust you with this mission? What guarantee do I have that you won’t get bored and leave?”

“You’re the one who’s talking about being bored.”

“Tell me, Whitethorn. Can I count on you a month from now?”

It was only when Rowan didn’t answer that he realized how loudly they were arguing. He couldn’t give her a response because Rowan wouldn’t steal Sellene’s throne, neither would he put her in it before speaking to her first. Even if they ended up disagreeing.

Aelin chuckled, and Rowan could feel her bitterness like it was his.

“That’s what I thought.”

A/N: I’m focusing on writing for Rowaelin Month now, see you next month :)

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tomtenadia · 1 year

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Stranded - snippet

so, yesterday I watched a Norwegian mini series on Netflix called Julestorm (A storm for Christmas in English). It’s based at Oslo airport and follows the lives of a few characters as they are stranded at the airport during a snow storm. It’s a heartfelt series with angst fluff and character development. Two characters inspired me and it was the grumpy cynical pilot and the happy always positive traveller. It screamed Rowaelin to me so I got inspired.

Rowan is a pilot for Wendlyn airlines and Aelin is trying to get back to Orynth after her life in Doranelle fell apart. Grumpy meets sunshine and a bit of enemies to something more.

I finished part 1 which is 5k words and I am about to write part two (it’s only 2 parts.)

Here's a snippet.

Rowan was busy secretly staring at her that he did not notice that the woman was talking. To him apparently. Hellas, fate had given him a chatty table partner.

“What?” Another growl.

“Is that the Wendlyn airlines colours? Are you a pilot? You must be, you have the wings and the cuff-rings. Were you due to fly today?”

Rowan wondered how to murder her and how to make it look like an accident. He placed the book down, careful not to lose his spot and stared at her “Yes, princess. I am a pilot and now I am stuck here, trying to relax and I have this annoying woman ruining my day.”

Aelin glared at him “Mala save me, you are grumpy.”

In irritation he straightened his back “I am grumpy? I landed this morning and I was due to finish. Then my boss asked me to be on standby because as soon as this hellish snowstorm is over I will have to fly out any poor irritating soul that has been stuck in this damned place.”

#new WIP #My writing

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livlepretre · 3 months

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Okay, wait, I know Aedion and Rowan are somehow related to Aelin (been a while since I’ve read the series in detail), but is Chaol? Dorian and Aelin are related through Mala right?

Still weird that SJM possibly thought “Aedion being disgusted at the thought of marrying Aelin or sleeping with her” would totally combat the incestuous vibes, never thinking about how she genuinely made it canon that once others tried to marry them or that Aedion immediately jumping to “Aelin and Lysandra want me to fuck Lysandra while she looks like Aelin” over him sleeping with Lysandra in her own appearance was more of a weird thing with Aedion. Like, I fully thought that the others would all be aware of the plan and thus, there would be no need for Aedion to believe he was fucking Aelin, but maybe I misinterpreted things

I think Chaol is the only love interest Aelin has that we do not have confirmed blood relation to

but to be fair, Dorian is not really related if their most recent shared ancestor is like 1000 years ago; it all depends on if there were more recent intermarriages between their houses, which-- seems likely? for two neighboring powerful countries?

as for Aedion and Rowan... y'all know my thoughts on this. I don't understand how Aedion could be more distantly related than a 2nd cousin. His mother and Aelin's mother are both princesses of Wendlyn. Great. So they have got to be no more distantly related to the king than like... granddaughters? Nieces? Maybe one is a sister and the other is a first cousin? People don't just continue being princesses once the blood relationship to the throne gets distant enough. They have to both be relatively closely related to a king or queen regnant at some point to earn the title, ya know? so that would make Aedion a closer relation than SJM puts down... but like, she is the one who shot herself in the foot with this, I don't understand the unforced error but there it is

I've explained my reasoning for why Rowan can't logically be more than like a 3rd cousin

it's all bonkers

sjm's incest kink is on par with her wing kink, she just attempts to hide it

(for anyone saying the characters say they are not really that closely related: I know they say it, but it also doesn't actually make sense. it contradicts everything else we know, so I think she just threw that in to get the incest police off her back. she could have avoided this by just... not having them related at all. but whatever)

#anonymous #tog

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acourtofcouture · 3 years

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Evalin Ashryver Galathynius, Princess of Wendlyn and Terrasen, 4/?

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queentala · 2 years

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hii could you do a part two for the fenrys bedroom canons please <3

also could you write a enemies to lovers, fenrys x reader about them going on a mission together and finding out they are mates? :)

Hi! Of course I can write enemies to lovers because who doesn't love this trope?! And I'll probably write part two for Fen headcanons or nsfw alphabet for him in the future but at this moment I have sooo many stories already started and I need to finish them first because people are waiting so we'll see.

"Can you just fu@k off?!"

"No." 🙂

Fenrys x fem!reader

Summary: reader is Aelin's childhood best friend and helps her fight for her crown. Fenrys since the beginning of their acquaintance doesn't understand some of the reader's actions and they don't go along very well but those hateful words slowly turn into something more.

This story also has a lot of Aelin and reader’s friendship in it and probably some unnecessary scenes but I just felt like writing them but you can skip those parts.

Warnings: a lot of spoilers to EOS and KOA, a lot of time jumping, some swearing and violence

Words: a lot - I had to learn for my biology test so I decided to write 3650 words long slow-burn :)

Continuation to this fic: Wounded puppy

ENJOY KIDS <3

Since the day one you and Aelin were inseparable. The storm and the fire. You were born the same year on the court of Terrasen. She was demi - Fae princess endowed with the power of fire, you - a noble Fae with powerful water and thunder magic. Every other child in Terrasen feared both of you (expect Aedion but it’s not about him) so quickly you found common ground swearing on every star that noting will ever tear you apart. Well... Maybe expect Adarlan’s army.

Thanks to quick reaction of your parents you managed to avoid death. Unfortunately your mom and dad didn’t. You were placed under Darrow’s care as he kept you hidden from the world. As you grew older he started seeing a big potential in you and a chance to overthrow Adarlan. Every living Fae was sentenced to death and what comes with it your identify had to stay unknown. And that’s how you started your spy training.

Never you dared to think that many years later sitting on one of Rifthold’s roofs under the cover of the night and watching the glass castle you would see your queen in one of the palace windows. Using your skills you got inside within few minutes. After years of separation you stand with your best friend, sister even face to face. Smiling with tears in your eyes both of you collapsed to the floor in each others arms.

And since that day you accompanied her every minute you could. When she was sent to Wendlyn you helped Aedion with the rebels, preparing the ground for your queen for when she comes to fight for her kingdom. You helped her destroy Arobynn, you were there when she was destroying the glass castle, you accompanied her on the meeting with trusted lords of Terrasen and later in Illium. And of course as befit a good friend you sat besides her when Rolfe opened door to his office, wicked smile playing on your face.

“I like this office far better than your other one, Rolfe”

“I have a distinct memory, Caleana Sardothien, of saying that if you set foot in my territory again, your life was forfeit” Rolfe let out a snarl and his blue eyes wandered to you. “And if I remember well I promised the same thing to you, Black Mamba”

You smile got wider as you heard your name, given by people that survived encounter with you. Name given after one of the most dangerous snakes in the world. The fastest, the most venomous, the most lethal.

“I missed you Rolfie” you said with innocent eyes. “Could an old friend not be able to visit you?”

“You never mentioned that you also got under Rolfe’s skin” Aelin looked at you with a glow in her eyes.

“It’s more like he got under mine. I just got my revenge” you shrugged.

“The friend of yours is really vindictive. I would be careful around her, Caleana” Rolfe’s face contorted with fury and spite. “Who knows when she will stab you in the back.”

Snarls from your and Aelin’s mouth came out at the same time. Your eyes wandered from Rolfe to the rest of people standing in the doorway. You found one of those incredibly handsome males staring at you with his onyx eyes narrowed, clearly vigilant, probably wondering if you are worth trust. You smirked at him, slightly reveling your fangs as you played with your dagger. Right then you knew this will be an interesting experience.

And it truly was. Fenrys didn’t trusted you and he wasn’t even hiding that. With Aelin he was friendly sarcastic, they were getting along pretty well and you had to admit you felt a little left out and forgotten but you did not let it show. While speaking with you he was cold. His arrogance and sarcasm, usually playful, towards you were... You didn’t even know how to describe it. He was disgusted? His words sometimes even hurtful, mocking.

When you were a teenager girl, you were hurt by more than one man. And when you grew older you promised to yourself that never again you’ll let a man disregard or overpower you. So you decided two can play this game.

***

“And what do you need all this mystery for, hm?" Fenrys asked, irritation written in his eyes. "How I am supposed to trust you if I don't even know your name. Am I supposed to call you Black Mamba the whole time? At least those people could think of better nickname for you, this one is lame."

You were listening to his whining since an hour as you both had a watch at the same time. Sound of waves in the sea was the only thing keeping you sane. Because of your powers you always felt safe around water, you were calm and happy. Usually... This time you barely could stop yourself from breaking this man's neck.

"I bet even if you knew my name you still wouldn't trust me" you snorted without even looking at the male sitting few meters from you.

"I don't trust snakes" his eyes fell on your left forearm where your tattoo was visible. Black snake wrapped around your wrist. Mark that made grown men tremble.

"You say you don't trust snakes yet you put so much venom into your words you could easily be one" you drawled out with so much hate in your voice that Fenrys only snorted in disbelief and stood up. "Be a good puppy and sit down. Your watch isn't over yet."

He didn't even turned to look at you as he disappeared below the deck of the ship. You rolled your eyes, annoyed to the limit. You bit your lip wondering for a second if you're gonna regret this but he would know anyways.

"Y/N" you said and even though he already walked away you knew he heard you.

You didn’t really cared about his friendship or appreciation but you had to admit his aversion towards you made you wonder if there’s something wrong with you. After all you haven’t done anything that could hurt his feelings or made him form a negative opinion about you.

“What’s wrong with him?” Aedion crouched down next to you, his blonde hair flowing in all directions because of wind, Ashryver eyes focused on the door through which Fenrys had disappeared.

“I don’t know. Dude acts as if I had killed his mother with a stick.” You looked up at your friend, for a long time he was the only person you could count on. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“Yeah, I have a list. It’s alphabetized” Aedion joked and both of you laughed. He looked into your eyes. “It’ll get better, I tell you.”

“Honestly, I don’t think so...” you breathed out and once again fixed your eyes on the horizon.

***

“I swear if I’ll hear one more word from you, my boot will be kissing your face!” you shouted not even trying to hide from others how annoyed you were with this little bitch.

You were on your way back from Stone Marshes. Everybody were exhausted, bruised and drained out of power. Additionally seeing hundreds of Melisande ships on horizon didn’t helped you. Turns out your best friend hid her plans even from you.

After unintentionally hurting Elide, Fenrys has been awfully quiet, still feeling horrible. You felt a little sorry for him but at the same time you thanked gods and hoped he’d stay like this for as long as possible. Well, gods never specially like you so...

You walked towards the deck trying to dry off your wet hair as you just finished washing yourself. Hundreds of Maeve’s ships hauled against the setting sun. The view made you sick. You fought in few battles that’s true but you were a spy, not a warrior. The very thought of the hell that was about to break loose in the morning made you feel faint.

“You sure you don’t want to take the boat and run off?” You heard Fenrys walking behind you. “War is not the right place for little girls.”

You didn’t even have the strength to answer him, you just kept walking towards Aelin and the rest with tired eyes and blank face. You just wished to know the plan for tomorrow and then go to sleep.

“Do you think Maeve would have go away if we had given her you instead of Aelin?”

You broke.

You stopped and turned so fast Fenrys didn’t even had time to react. Before he could even blink he fell on the wooden floor, groaning in pain he grabbed his nose. Red blood was dripping over his mouth and chin. The whole ship went quiet. Lorcan looked like a child that just got the best Yulemas gift, Gavriel stood shocked with his eyes wide open and Aelin just raised her brow and smirked. Fenrys looked up at you from the floor, his eyes filled with surprise and... regret. He stared at your blank face not daring to even move.

“I warned you” you said, your voice calm as ocean before storm. “I keep my promises. Do not play with me Fenrys.” Your words were harsh, making sure he will remember this moment. “Do not test my patience. You don’t want to experience the storm of my fury.” With those words you turned around and walked away, heading towards Aelin. Fenrys still haven’t moved, staring at your back. You knew something in him broke as well.

***

Just as you suspected, chaos reigned the next day. You managed to refill your magic a little bit through the night. You sank enemy ships one by one while your lightnings raged across the sky. And as the battle was drawing to a close, as hope filled you again, the events on the beach felt like being stabbed in the heart with a dagger.

You lost your best friend once again. You were on the verge of a breakdown. And when you found out Fenrys was taken as well you panicked like never before. You had no idea why but you feared for his life so much probably all Faes around you could smell it. Without excess thinking you agreed to go with Rowan, Gavriel, Elide and Lorcan to Wendlyn. Finding Aelin was a priority but you truly hoped you’ll be able to save this annoying asshole as well. All of your instincts literally begged you to find him.

Not a single day could be wasted. You were so determined that more than once your companions had troubles with keeping up with you. You spent most of the nights awake, wondering why all of sudden you care so much about him, does he truly hates you and what will happen after he will be free again. If he survives at all.

After months of searching you were able to look into those beautiful black eyes again. White wolf was lying in front of you, first time ever he looked at you without hate. His gaze was filled with sadness but as you stared at him back for a moment it was replaced with gratitude and softness. Softness that made your heart ache.

From the moment he shifted back into his Fae form your relationship had improved. You started talking normally. The two of you haven’t tried to kill one another so far and that was a big success. Few times Fenrys even gave you a faint smile what was bordering on a miracle. Everything was going perfectly until the day Aelin offered Lorcan the blood oath.

Fenrys was already angry when his former friend took it but he became even more furious when you didn’t.

“Guess I won’t change your mind?” Aelin asked as she turned to face you.

You offered her a sad smile and shook your head. “I’m sorry Aelin. I love you and I’m sure you will be great queen. I’m sure you will build the best court in the whole world” you took her hand. “But I cannot be part of it.” You discussed those issues with her before even the glass castle shattered. She understood you and for that you were thankful as never. “That doesn’t mean you will get rid of me though. Someone has to be able to kick your ass if you start messing around too much.” Aelin erupted with laugh. True laugh that made your heart grow.

Fenrys wasn’t as joyful.

You were preparing yourself to sleep when Fenrys found you.

“Why?!” he took you by the arm and turned to face him. “Why you refused to take the blood oath?” You flinched under his touch and he immediately pulled his hand back.

“It’s not your business Fenrys. It’s only between me and Aelin.”

“No it’s not!” he crossed his muscular arms. “You are best friends since you were children. You risked your life to find Aelin but you don’t want to promise your loyalty to her. I don’t understand you.” You opened your mouth to answer him but he clearly hasn’t finished. “Maybe Rolfe was right that day. Maybe you should not be trusted.”

“Watch your words unless you want your nose broken once again” you shoot him a warning look but he didn’t really cared. “You know what? Actually I thought you would understand me the best. You know how does it feel to take an unwanted oath. You tried to fought it since the moment you took it but you are angry that I don’t want to bind myself to Aelin... I am the one who don’t understand YOU, Fenrys.”

“I knew Maeve is evil since the very beginning. That’s why I didn’t wanted to serve her. But Aelin is not Maeve”

“But the blood oath is still a blood oath” you looked him in the eyes. “I couldn’t stand the thought of someone having control over my life. I can’t even imagine someone being able to control my every move regardless my will.”

“Aelin would never do that and you now it!” The male standing in front of you looked offended as if you were talking about him.

“She wouldn’t but she could if she wanted and that’s enough. I just can’t...” the last words were literally choked out. Feeling tears forming in your eyes you turned around and left. He didn’t followed you.

Next weeks were silent not only between you two but between Elide and Lorcan as well. Having nothing better to do on the ship, you started training with Lorcan as you saw a perfect opportunity to improve your *already good* skills. Fenrys of course took it personally and you were back again on unfriendly relation. And you had to admit how much you hated it. Especially when it was going so well. This strange thing that pulled you towards him didn’t helped either. You wanted to be next to him as much as possible but Fenrys avoided you all the time.

“Y/N?” Aelin’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up at your friend. “I want you do something for me.”

“Yeah, sure” you nodded. “Whatever you need.”

***

The owner of the inn you were staying at had no idea how the war in Terrasen and the rest of Eirela was going. After weeks spent on the ship Aelin couldn’t stay still and asked you and Fenrys to gather as much information as possible.

You both decided you would go check north, Fenrys went west. After four days you were supposed to meet in a village where you split up the second day.

Your paws traded silently on the grass as you emerged among the bushes. Fenrys was already waiting for you, sitting against old fence and eating red apple. He lifted it to his mouth but stopped midway as he noticed your presence.

“I had no idea your animal form is black panther” he looked kinda surprised. Golden light glowed around you as you shifted to your normal form and sat beside him.

“And what did you thought it was?” you asked as he took out another apple from his bag and passed it to you.

“Honestly I forgot you have an animal form” Fenrys looked at you with a sad smile.

“Well, I weren’t able to use it for over ten years so sometimes I forget it too.” you bit into sweet apple, its juice dripping down your chin. “I rarely shift... Or use my magic in general.”

“I think I also forget that you’re only 20 years old. It’s weird for Fae to be so young...” he joked and you smiled.

“Probably I’m little baby in your eyes”

“No. Not really...” his voice was quieter now. “In my eyes you’re a young warrior who didn’t gave up even when the world took everything from her. You were just 8 and you already had to fight for your life. I look up to you” he smiled gently. “Connall and me depended on our parents till our thirties and you... You’re so smart and brave, incredibly sly and loyal. And I’m sorry for all those awful things I said.”

“You know, I always saw you as a really good person.” You looked into his eyes. You wanted him to know that you mean it. “You scarified your freedom for your brother and bear all those shit only for him. And I realized I never truly thanked you for being the reason Aelin survived all those tortures.” It was time to open up in front of him. Now or never. If this talk won’t work out, nothing will. “You always seemed so funny and charming and when you talked to Aelin and ignored me I felt so left over and jealous even...”

“I was jealous of Lorcan...” he admitted and you laughed

“I know. You made it quite obvious.”

“And of Aedion... And sometimes even Gavriel and Rowan. Or any man that talked to you in general” he shoot you apologetic look.

“When...” you breathed out wondering if you’re gonna regret this. “When they told me Maeve took Aelin I had no idea what to do, but when I realized she also took you... I don’t remember ever panicking so bad. It felt like each of my instincts begged me to find you.” You turned your head towards Fenrys and found him already staring at you, listening carefully to each word falling out of your mouth. “There were moments where it seemed like I could feel your pain and your fear and I started wondering...”

“If I am your mate?” You nodded. Fenrys took your hand gently in his big one. “When I first saw you in Rolfe’s office something told me to watch you. I had no idea if it was in good way or bad way but I felt like something was pulling me towards you.” His thumb was gently caressing your palm, his eyes fixed on yours entwined hands. “When you broke my nose...” he smiled at the memory “I wanted to stand up and kick your ass but since then the mere thought of hurting you made my blood boil and I just couldn’t move. As if I would want to protect you from me. That’s when I started suspecting something”

“Well if we both had suspicions why the bond hasn’t clicked yet?” you wondered leaning slightly towards the male.

“Sometimes it needs a stronger impulse.” He shifted his gaze from your hands to your face. “It might be a kiss or life-threatening situation or... sex” he smiled wickedly. “Who knows?” both of you erupted with laughter.

“So let’s provide this bond this stronger impulse...” you leaned in so your forehead was touching his.

“Do you want me to find an inn and book us a room for a night or...” the glow in his eyes let you know what he exactly meant and you punched him in his arm.

“Fenrys... I won’t go to bed with you yet.” You didn't wanted to refuse him anything but your past just didn’t let you do it now. “Someday yes, but not yet.” You pulled away slightly to look into his eyes. Eyes full of softness and adoration. “But we can start with kisses” you smiled at him gently. “And after this war you can take me on a date so we can start everything once again. And then... we'll see.”

“Take as much time as you need Y/N. I will wait” he pulled his hand up to your cheek. “But not for a kiss.”

Fenrys closed the distance left between you two and pushed his lips onto yours. He kissed softly, lovingly. The kiss that made you forget you’re in the middle of a war. That world might end soon. You didn’t cared. Not when you felt a new path create in your soul. A path that lead to his heart, his soul, to him.

Fenrys pulled off gently, both of you smiling like idiots. “There you are.”

“What will Aelin say when she’ll find out? We go on a mission not even talking to each other and come back as mates... She will never stop mocking us about that” you laughed. Fenrys only pulled you closer to his chest looking down at you. His hand still gently holding your face.

“To hell with all of them.” He kissed you once again. “And if they cross the line you can always use your boot in the face technique to shut them.”

#fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys moonbeam x reader #tog x reader #tog imagines #tog #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #gavriel #lorcan salvaterre #SJM #sarah j maas #throne of glass #acotar #crescent city #elide lochan

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malulls · 2 years

Text

Good night, witchling

Manorian fluffy

The corridors of the castle were dark and silent, which was understandable at that time of night. The cold wind of Adarlan's winter entered through the chinks in the windows, leaving the walls and stone floors chilled.

Dorian passed dozens of closed doors before he reached the one he was looking for, a little larger and taller than any other in the castle.

Silently, he turned the handle and entered the room, with the lights already faded. The only sound other than the crickets singing in the gardens was the slow, regular breathing of the Queen of Witches.

Manon did not move when he closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, nor when he pulled the covers away. She was sleeping partially seated, leaning against a pile of pillows, with Asterin on her lap. The princess slept deeply with her cheek pressed against the queen's chest, holding a lock of her mother's hair between her fingers.

Dorian tried to take her, but the moment he pulled Asterin off, Manon closed her arms around her.

— Manon?

Slowly, her lids fluttered, as if opening her eyes was an effort. It took a few seconds before she sat up straighter and handed Asterin to him.

Dorian rose to carry her into the adjacent room and placed the princess in her crib. He watched her squirm for a few seconds due to the change, but as soon as she found something to hold on to — the tip of the pillow — her body relaxed, and she went back to sleep soundly.

The king placed a blanket over Asterin before returning to where Manon was. She had undone the pile of pillows and was now lying down, still awake as he laid beside her.

— Are you all right? Was she crying too much?

The queen waited for Dorian to put his arms around her and pull her close before answering.

— No more than usual. And yes, I'm fine. Just a little exhausted.

— I wish I could help more with it.

Adarlan had just closed a new commercial deal with Wendlyn, which meant that the two of them had countless meetings and endless documents to read and sign. Which was extremely complicated having a daughter who was only weeks born.

— We should rest and let Abraxos rule for a few weeks.

The thought of Abraxos with a crown snarling at the lords of Adarlan drew a smile from Dorian, despite the tiredness.

— I bet he would make a great king.

— Seriously. — Manon pulled her head away from his chest and laid it against the pillow. — It seems that I barely see you.

She was right. Dorian didn't know the last time he had spent time caring of Asterin, didn't know the last time he had just hugged Manon and talked to her. Much less when the two of them had last done anything in that bed other than sleep.

— I know, but it will get better. Once this Wendlyn mess is over, things will calm down.

— Okay — The witch murmured, though he could see the twinge of irritation she was trying to keep out of her voice. — I'll see you in ten years.

Dorian laughed.

— Then I am the dramatic.

— I'm not being dramatic. I'm thinking about how much work this will take, and that my daughter has strong lungs and indestructible vocal cords.

Dorian was forced to agree. Asterin was normally a quiet child, but when she cried she did it with dedication, screaming loud enough for Nesryn probably hear from the southern continent.

— She is grumpy. Just like you.

— Scandalous. Just like you.

She leaned her face against his chest again. Dorian could let the conversation end there. He could let her sleep and do the same. He could just not annoy her. But...

— I'm not scandalous. — He lazily wrapped a few strands of silver hair around his finger. — Usually you're the one who screams.

The witch's body stiffened and she lifted her face slowly, her eyes narrowed as if she was about to rip his head off.

— I don't scream. — Dorian raised his eyebrows ironically, but didn't dare disagree with her. —And don't think that I can't kick you just because I'm tired.

Instead of worrying about his wife's furious expression, the king was distracted by the way her white hair slid down and exposed her neck when she stood up.

— I know. — He laid her back on the mattress — but you're not going to do this.

She tilted her head back slightly as Dorian kissed her, right under her ear. Manon tangled her fingers in the soft locks of his black hair as the king left a trail of kisses along her skin, until he reached the space between her shoulder and neck and slowly ran his tongue there.

— Not now. — She agreed, her voice rough — but don't be surprised if you get punched in the middle of the night.

He smiled as he made his way back, trailing warm kisses down her jaw to her mouth. Dorian pressed his lips quickly against the queen's before pulling away, but Manon tilted her head and this time she kissed him for real. Dorian moved his hands to her waist, to her hips, feeling her heart, beating fast against his own chest, making them both forget how tired they were, just for a second. He ran his fingertips down to the silk camisole she was wearing, halfway down her thighs. He dragged his fingers across her skin, moving up the fabric a few inches, almost reaching her hips.

But he could feel her hands on his back moving slower and slower, his own eyes burning under his eyelids.

Then he pulled away, and this time Manon let him lie back down and put an arm around her waist.

Dorian kissed her forehead.

- Good night, witchling.

The king was almost asleep when Manon pushed him, so hard that he almost fell from the bed.

#manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #manorian #sarah j maas #throne of glass #dorian x manon #one shot #asterin

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

Light Up the Ice - Chapter 10

Summary: Aelin Galathynius has never really been into sports. Yes, she likes to keep in shape, and she works out, but watching people run up and down a field, trying to keep a leather ball away from each other? It’s always seemed a bit childish to her, and decidedly NOT a way for a grown adult to make a living.

Rowan Whitethorn has recently been drafted by the Terresen Staghorns, one of best teams in the EHL (Erilean Hockey League). And since he moved to Terresen from Wendlyn, it’s been hard for him to get more than 30 seconds alone from someone demanding a picture with him. Getting drafted straight out of college wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he’s not complaining. Until he accidentally meets a girl. More specifically, until he accidentally meets his neighbor. She seems to have no idea who he is and for some reason, that’s refreshing. But will she still want to be with him once he shows her the truth?

Light Up the Ice Masterlist

My Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Co-written with @tacmc.

Warnings: language, smut - this chapter is 18+.

Rowan’s phone rang for the third time since he’d made it home from practice less than an hour ago. He had two papers due in the morning and his professors didn’t give a shit if the Warriors were heading to the finals in less than a week. They cared about the history of Wendlyn and its allies.

His girlfriend, however, clearly didn’t give a shit about either.

He answered, his tone clipped. “Hello?”

“You never called me when you finished up.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear and sighed, before returning it and saying, “I’ve only been home for about fifteen minutes. Coach made me spend some extra time in the weight room.”

“You’re going to put on too much bulk if you keep going to the gym,” she said, pointedly. “You won’t get drafted into the EHL if you don’t have the speed, babe.”

Another heavy sigh. “I’m just doing what my coaches say, Maeve. They’ve gotten me this far-.”

“No, Rowan, you’ve gotten yourself this far, with your ability, not your coaches,” she said, and he could hear her getting into the car. “You need to quit going to the gym and focus on your puck-handling.”

When Rowan had met Maeve his freshman year, after Lyria’s accident, he thought dating someone in the sports medicine program would make his life easier. A good distraction from life and his feelings, but the longer they stayed together, the more Rowan regretted ever asking the dark-haired beauty out to dinner.

She’d been great at first. She was as interested in hockey as he was, so he didn’t feel like he was bothering her by asking her to come to his games. But as she inserted herself into his life in more and more ways, Rowan knew that they weren’t going to last.

“I’m leaving my apartment now, I’ll be there in just a bit,” she said, completely ignoring his lack of reply to her suggestions.

He sighed. “I’ve got a lot of homework, Maeve, I really think I should-.”

“You’re in college to play, baby,” she replied with a scoff. “You need to focus on your future, your studies are just a stepping stone.”

This was becoming a frequent conversation between the two of them. Maeve was adamant that Rowan should drop out and see if he could get drafted as soon as he could. Rowan knew that even if he was to get drafted early, one game, one bad hit, one concussion, one injury could end his career. He didn’t just study to ensure he could play for the University of Wendlyn.

He studied because he wanted a backup plan.

Maeve, as single-minded as she was, didn’t understand that. She didn’t understand a thing, not about Rowan, anyway. All she saw was a man that made her look good, a guy that was well-liked around campus and in his hockey community and their group of friends.

“I need to-.”

Maeve was already interrupting him. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

She hung up.

With one last heavy sigh, Rowan closed his laptop and prepared for her arrival.

Rowan pulled out his phone the moment she left. It was on his ear, ringing, as he checked the stovetop clock to see if it was too early to be drinking.

Brello answered on the third ring. “Whitethorn.”

“Hey,” Rowan began, hesitantly. “I-.”

“Did you see the new therapist?” Brello interrupted. “Havilliard mentioned you were planning on getting started today.”

“Aye, coach, I did, but there’s a minor problem-.”

He was cut off again. “You can’t get back on the ice for at least two games, Rowan, I’m sorry. Those are the rules. Just follow the at home therapy routine Dorian left you and you can come back to practice on Sunday.”

“The problem isn’t me not getting to play.” He rushed the words out, not meaning to sound disrespectful, but wanting to speak before Brello hung up the phone. “It’s with the new sports therapist.”

Silence met him on the other side of the phone. “Give her a couple weeks, Whitethorn. I know you were used to Sorscha, but even she says Maeve is highly qualified, and highly recommended.”

“I’m sure she is, but it’s more of a, ah, personal conflict,” Rowan said, pacing around Aelin’s apartment. He’d come back after Maeve was done. Dorian had left a note on top of the stack of paperwork he assumed was his therapy, letting him know he’d headed back to the arena and to call him with any questions.

Another pause. “A personal conflict?”

“Maeve is my…” Rowan cleared his throat. “Maeve is my ex, sir.” Brello was once, again, quiet on the other line. “Sir?”

Brello sighed, long and heavy. “Look, Whitethorn. I respect you, and you and I have never had any real issues. You’re a great player, and a great asset to the team. Because of that, you need to get the hell over your personal issues and keep your eye on the end goal here.”

Rowan closed his eyes. “But-.”

“You need to take the treatment being given to you or you won’t be playing any time soon and that’s final,” Brello said, his voice conveying one thing: that his words were very much final.

When Rowan didn’t answer, Brello’s voice filled the silence, yet again. “Is that clear?”

Rowan’s voice was strong but quiet when he replied, “Yes, sir.”

Brello hung up without another word, which left Rowan standing there, his phone still held up to his ear. After a moment, he pulled it away and looked down at it, at the ridiculously adorable selfie Aelin had set as his lock screen . He wasn’t sure when she’d done it, but he couldn’t help but smile as he looked into her gorgeous eyes.

He froze.

Shit. How was he going to tell her?

Good news, babe, I called the team therapist. Bad news, she’s my ex.

His phone lit up in his hand, taking Rowan by surprise. “Hey, man,” he answered, falling back on the couch. Which was a mistake. He immediately groaned.

Lorcan snorted. “I take it you saw Maeve. I have the same reaction when she puts her hands on me.”

Regardless of the fact that he loved Aelin, regardless of the fact that he could hear the joking tone in his teammate’s voice, Maeve was still his ex. And Rowan hated the feeling that rose in him at the thought of her hands on someone else’s body.

When Rowan said nothing, Lorcan followed, “That was a joke, asshole.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “I know, I was just thinking of how I’m going to tell Aelin.”

Lorcan snorted. “Tell Aelin? Tell her what?”

Rowan blinked, even though Lorcan couldn’t see him. “About Maeve.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Lorcan asked, without missing a beat.

“Because I’ve learned my lesson about keeping things from her,” Rowan snapped. “Last time it didn’t work out so well for me.”

“Didn’t it?” Lorcan chuckled. “You got the girl, I think it worked out alright.”

Rowan was about to reply, about to tell him that Aelin wasn’t a prize to be won and that he was lucky as hell she decided to forgive him. But Lorcan cut him off. “On top of that, all it’s going to do is make the princess pissy and jealous, which is only going to make her hate hockey more. And I don’t see that working out well for you in the long run.”

Lorcan had begun to call Aelin the princess and Rowan sighed as he used the nickname. “Shit. I didn’t think about that.”

“Exactly. You gotta think long term. You tell Aelin that your ex is your massage therapist and she’s going to be so jealous, she can’t see straight,” Lorcan said, and Rowan could hear the beeps of the treadmill as he picked up the pace.

“Are you at the arena?” Rowan asked, praying that they weren’t having this conversation while Lorcan was around the rest of the team.

He sounded offended when he replied. “Hell no, I’m at home. You know I don’t run at the rink. But speaking of being at the arena, we need you there. Not in the box, not suspended on the bench, and sure as shit not on the injured list. You need to quit this dumb shit with the fighting.”

They’d had this conversation once before but rather than over the phone, they had been in person.

It ended in a fist fight.

Rowan sucked on his teeth. “I promise, it’s done with. Now that I have Aelin back, I just-.”

“Stop, stop with the mushy shit, I don’t want to hear about it.”

Rowan frowned. “You’re a jackass, you know that?”

“I do,” Lorcan said, between heavy breaths. “A fact that I’m proud of.”

Rowan just shook his head. “Of course, you are.”

“Be at the game tonight?” Lorcan asked.

“Yeah,” Rowan replied. “With Aelin.”

“Good,” Lorcan huffed. “Bond, keep her happy up in that box of yours. Keep Maeve to yourself. Trust me.”

Trust me. Those words from Lorcan Salvaterre typically didn’t sit well in the pit of Rowan’s stomach, but Rowan had to admit that this time, Lorcan had a point.

He just got Aelin. He didn’t want to ruin it with petty jealousy coming between them.

Besides, it was just a little, white lie.

Right?

When Aelin got home, she found Rowan on her couch, wearing a very nice suit, that was tailored to immaculately accent his muscular form, watching highlights from the games the night before. Her eyebrows rose as she took him in. “I already feel underdressed and I haven’t even changed yet.”

Rowan chuckled as she set her purse down on the kitchen counter. “If I didn’t have to wear this to games, I wouldn’t. Unfortunately, I don’t get much of a choice.” He stood and met Aelin in the middle of the room. “How was your day?”

“Insanely busy,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and smiling up at him. “But that meant it flew by. So it was good.”

Leaning down to kiss her, he replied, “Good.”

She raised up on her tiptoes and met his lips with hers before pulling away and heading for her bedroom. “I need to get ready, come tell me about your therapy appointment today. You look like you aren’t hurting as bad.”

Rowan rubbed at the back of his neck, but waited until she had rounded the corner to answer. “Nothing of consequence happened. Got the massage, my trainer gave me some physical therapy exercises to do at night, and relaxed the rest of the day. Just like I said I would.”

Rowan walked into her room and found her in the bathroom, piling her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. She looked at him in the mirror and raised an eyebrow. “Nothing of consequence? You sure about that?” She asked, before reaching for her makeup bag underneath the vanity.

Rowan swallowed hard, the abrupt change in her tone having immediately put him on edge.

How had she found out? Lorcan was the only person he’d told about Maeve. Rowan was fairly sure that he hadn’t said anything, since Lorcan didn’t even want him telling her himself.

“No, nothing,” he replied. “A pretty boring day, honestly.”

Aelin ran a spoolie brush through her brows, but smirked and said, “Liar.”

Rowan’s blood went cold.

The smile on her face surprised him until she said, “You didn’t tell me Dorian was your trainer!”

He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He chuckled and scratched at the stubble on his jaw.

“We’ve known each other for years,” Aelin went on, checking herself out in the mirror. “He’s such a good guy. I didn’t even know you knew him, which is ridiculous, considering how often I talk to Dorian.”

“Yeah, he’s great,” Rowan said, nodding along. No more questions, please, no more questions.

“Maybe we’ll see him at the game tonight.” Aelin reached up on her toes and gave Rowan a kiss on the cheek. “Let me change and touch up my makeup, then we’ll go?”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Sounds good.”

Rowan had hung his jersey on the door so Aelin could wear it, but after holding it up to her frame, it was agreed that it was far, far too big.

“We’ll get you another one from the Pro Shop when we get to the arena, get one in your size, yeah?” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she pouted about being unable to wear his.

She tossed on a light jacket and they were out the door. True to his word, as soon as they emerged from the stairwell leading from the staff and player’s garage, Rowan took her into the Pro Shop, much to the amazement of the crowd inside. They were hardly stopped though and a handful of minutes and one Jersey purchase later, they were all alone. The privacy of the box was a nice reprieve for Aelin. She was not used to being stared at for such long periods of time and she found she didn’t much care for it.

“Is this always how it is?” Aelin asked, as she sat her purse in one of the chairs. “Everyone being starstruck?”

Rowan shrugged. “Only when I’m here. I’m rarely recognized elsewhere. You know, unless they’re diehard hockey fans.”

“Which explains why I didn’t know who the hell you were,” Aelin chuckled.

Rowan grinned. “I liked that about you.”

Aelin smiled and walked toward the open end of the small room, facing out over the ice. The plush chairs were set far enough back that unless you were standing right on the railing, you couldn’t be seen. But the railing is where Aelin ended up and she whispered, “It’s so much to take in.”

The arena opened up before them. He knew exactly what she meant, but on a completely different scale. He’d ruined two hockey games for her though, and he wanted her to enjoy this one.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked, brushing a long, loose strand of hair behind her ear

“Yes, please,” she smiled. “A Jack and Coke.”

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead, before placing their order on the small iPad on the counter. A beer for himself and her drink, plus miscellaneous things they could snack on.

“So what do you want to know about hockey? He asked, after they’d sat down on one of the many plush loveseats. The box could seat as many as twelve, but Aelin and Rowan weren’t complaining about their privacy. He wrapped his arm around her and drew small shapes on her shoulder as he watched his teammates warm up.

She shrugged, snuggling into his embrace. “I’m more of an ‘ask as you go’ type of person. I’m sure I’ll think of something though.”

Rowan snorted. “Fair enough.”

It wasn’t five minutes later that someone showed up with their drink order and appetizers, then politely left them alone.

Aelin took a sip from her drink as she watched the players skate gracefully around the ice. Aelin could faintly remember the last time she had been on ice skates, she couldn’t have been older than ten.

And she hated every second of it.

She had constantly fallen down and her ankles were sore as hell afterwards. After that, she had never wanted to go ice skating again. Even if she found the sport beautiful.

Hockey players skated in an entirely different way, though. They were brutal, ruthless, but still so graceful with every glide of their skate.

“You look mesmerized,” Rowan muttered, cup of beer tipped against his bottom lip.

“It’s…intense,” she admitted, trying to follow just one of the little black pucks sliding across the ice as the players warmed up.

“It is,” he said, focusing on the activity below. He watched as his line followed through the warm ups he did with them every night. It felt so foreign to be up here, so far from the ice, instead of with them.

Aelin’s hand rested on his arm. He tore his eyes from the ice and the figures gliding around.

“You really do love this game, don’t you?” Aelin asked, smiling at him.

He paused and gazed back out over the ice. “More than I can explain, Aelin. Hockey… It may just be a game to some people, but it’s my entire life. Everything I am, everything I have, I owe to this sport.” His pine green eyes caught hers when he turned back to look at her and he cupped her face with one hand. “You have no clue how much it means that you’re here with me, darlin’. Thank you.”

Aelin melted. “Thank you for asking me to come with.” He took her hand in his and she chuckled as she ran her thumbs over his knuckles. “I can honestly say that I wouldn’t have come to a hockey game with anyone else.”

Rowan snorted. “Fair enough.”

The game began and Aelin wasn’t ashamed to say that Rowan had to explain every little thing that happened.

When the crowd would cheer, she’d try to decipher what had happened. When they’d yell and boo, she’d try to observe the game. It didn’t help that she couldn’t see the puck, sliding across the ice at ridiculous speeds. More often than not, she’d have to ask what caused the reaction from the crowd. And the goal horn nearly made her spill her drink the first time it rang out, after Gavriel scored a goal on the power play.

He never acted like her questions were a bother, though he may hold up a finger to indicate he needed to watch for a second longer to process what had just gone down. But then he’d grin and explain what happened, or if it wasn’t in the Staghorns’ favor, his brow would crinkle and he’d tell her what went wrong.

Then he’d tell her what he would have done that would have kept it from happening and wink at her, and she’d shake her head, laughing quietly.

She understood the basics of the game, but after her third stiff drink in the first period, Aelin wasn’t really worried about learning the in’s and out’s. There was time for that at a later game and the way Rowan’s warm hand was resting on the inside of her thigh had her focused on something else entirely. His calloused thumb rubbed small circles into the denim of her jeans, but even that touch was enough to ignite something within her.

All the while, her own hand was resting on his leg. Through those expensive suit pants, she could feel his muscular thighs and every time something major happened, he’d scoot forward. The first couple of times, Aelin would write it off as something from the game, but she knew what lie beneath those silk-spun slacks, beneath the boxer-briefs.

Right before the end of the second period, Aelin turned towards Rowan right as he turned to ask her a question, and she felt it.

Rowan’s cheeks were heated. He stammered an excuse out. “There’s a lot of adrenaline running through me, Ace,” he breathed.

He was rock hard inside of slacks.

It may have been because of the game, he may have not been lying, but Aelin couldn’t resist.

“How private is this box,” she whispered, brushing her fingers along the definite bulge in his pants.

Rowan hissed quietly, his pine-green eyes went wide, but his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “No one can get in unless we open the door. No cameras either.”

“Hmm.” The response was quiet and Aelin went back to watching the game, sipping on her drink.

For another few seconds, Rowan watched her, all too aware of the ridiculous hard-on straining against his slacks. The regulation clock ticked down to 0:00 and as the players skated towards the benches for the intermission, Rowan was about to suggest ordering one more round of drinks, when Aelin slid off the couch, settled on her knees, and started undoing his belt buckle.

He didn’t dare move, didn’t breathe. He was perfectly aware of every one of her movements, perfectly aware of where her eyes remained as she unbuttoned his slacks, and moved down the zipper.

Rowan’s jaw hardened as those slacks slid down, just to the tops of his thighs. His cock stood proud.

Her hands were like ice, frigid, thanks to the arena being, well, literal ice, but he didn’t care. Not when her touch made him feel like he was on fire. She stroked him, slowly, carefully, but not like the other night, when she’d surprised him after the shower.

Her grip was more firm, and Rowan could see the lust in her own eyes.

“Does this happen every game?” She crooned, spreading his legs wider and scooting in closer.

His eyes fell closed of their own accord and he nodded. “Mostly all of them, aye.”

“Hmm.” Once again, a short, quiet answer. He didn’t have to press her through. She continued, “And you usually take care of it yourself?”

His eyes opened and he looked at her. He nodded once.

“Maybe I should come to more games then,” she said, smirking. He groaned softly, and she leaned and pressed a soft kiss to the tip, before looking up at him again. She was almost sure he wasn’t breathing, but his eyes… His eyes burned for her.

He cleared his throat, and his voice was husky when he said, “I can get pretty…rough after games, baby. What we do out there, it’s a pretty aggressive sport.”

Aelin ran her tongue along the underside of his cock, from the base to the crown at the top, which glistened with Rowan’s precum. It was practically begging for her lips around it. “What if I told you I like it pretty rough?”

Rowan had to fight the urge to take her then and there.

“Nothing to say to that?” Aelin crooned, her grin wild and mischievous.

“Wouldn't be the first time you’ve left me speechless,” Rowan answered, attempting a joke, but his voice was far too rough for humor.

“I call that a success,” Aelin breathed, her breath warm against the tip of his cock.

Rowan fell back in his chair as her lips wrapped around him, and he couldn’t stop his hand from slowly reaching out and gripping the back of her head, her fingers tangling themselves into her golden locks.

Twice now, he’d had Aelin’s mouth on him, and twice now, he felt as if the blood in his veins had turned to fire. He tugged on the strands and Aelin’s turquoise-and-gold eyes opened, finding him gazing down at her. As she bobbed her head, taking him deeper and deeper with each pass, a quiet whimper left Aelin and Rowan’s grip tightened on her hair, groaning as Aelin began to work him with her hand as well.

Rowan had the vague recognition of the teams retaking the ice and roar of the crowd, but his sole focus was the woman on his knees before him, worshipping his cock.

He began to hope that his words before had been true. Hopefully no one would walk in. Hopefully, no cameras would find a way to catch them. Then again, did he truly care?

No.

The feeling that swept through his body made him not care a single bit.

“Aelin,” he breathed.

He could feel her lips curve upward as she worked him.

He growled, “Fuck the rest of the game,” and pulled himself from Aelin’s mouth.

He quickly resituated himself and Aelin, bless her, had the foresight to sit back in her seat before standing up. She adjusted her hair and grabbed her purse, asking, “You don’t have to stay the whole time?”

“Didn’t have to come at all,” Rowan said, coming up behind her. He turned her around and tilted her chin up so that she was looking up into his handsome face. “But you do, so we need to go, and we need to get home as quickly as possible.”

Aelin blinked, staring up at him for a moment, shocked by how upfront his words were. The grin that graced her lips though, was one of wicked delight.

“Who says we need to go all the way back home for that to happen?” Aelin whispered, caressing his cheek with the palm of her hand.

Rowan looked around the box, even though they were alone. “Are you saying what I think you are, Galathynius?”

Her grin only grew more feline.

Licking his lips, watching Aelin, Rowan warred with himself inside his head. But he wouldn’t fuck her in a private box at a game.

Not the first time, at least.

He leaned down, his lips at her ear, and breathed, “I want to take my time with you - to learn…every inch of you. And this box doesn’t have the thickest walls. I don’t want to have an audience,” he added as he pulled back and let his lips just barely brush against hers, “when I make you moan, Aelin.”

#snelbz lui #light up the ice #toab lui #rowaelin hockey fic #rowaelin #throne of glass #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #snacmc #snelbz tacmc collab

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tomtenadia · 2 years

Text

12 Days of Rowaelin - day 3

Day 3 already!

So here’s another fluffy Rowaelin for you. A couple of things: In the story they drink glögg. (HERE) it’s a nordic drink and in my head Terrasen is very much a Scandinavian country so... Also, at the end they see the mirrie dancers. This is none other than the way people in Shetland call the northern lights. Mirr means to shimmer so the shimmering dancers which I think is the most poetic way to call her.

Well, now you can enjoy the fic

Prince Rowan Whitethorn had been invited to attend the annual solstice ball at the royal palace in Orynth. He never attended before but that year his aunt had impressed upon him the need to nurture relationships with other kingdoms and also reminded him that at a hundred and twenty he was meant to start looking for a wife.

Rumour had it that the princess of Terrasen was actually quite stunning.

So he endured the long journey across the sea and now the final carriage ride towards Orynth. He was aware that in Terrasen it was much colder than Wendlyn but he never expected such a drastic difference. Thick snow had appeared as soon as they left Adarlan and started trudging north. He had never seen snow in his life. Doranelle had a mild climate with winters that would turn chillier but never enough to produce snow.

Now it was all around him and the carriage made a slow and painful progress. He looked outside the window and could not deny that it was actually a nice view. The only sound was the crunch of the snow under the heavy wheels. It was almost relaxing.

Slowly in the distance he saw the telltale of a town and at the top of a hill he spotted the castle and a part of him tensed.

He was expected to woo the princess and hopefully bring home a marriage proposal. He was meant to stay at the castle for two weeks and wondered how he was going to achieve such feat. Surely there were other males probably even more powerful than him with the same goal in mind. He was a prince in name but he had not much to offer her. His aunt would be really disappointed.

The carriage ground to a halt and as he looked outside he spotted an imposing set of gates. Rowan looked up and he finally saw the castle up close. It was stunning and imposing. The carriage moved once more and they were allowed in. Once arrived he got off and the first thing he did was to smell the air. It was fresh, with a strange smell he never experienced before. He assumed it was the snow.

The footman deposited his two bags and a valet at the door greeted him and collected his belonging.

“Follow me prince Whitethorn.”

Rowan nodded and as he stepped in he was amazed. The main hall was all decorated with evergreens, pinecones and wonderful glass decorations in the shape of moons, suns and snowflakes. He also spotted a few fabric elves positioned in strategic places where it looked as if they were sitting down.

Before coming to Orynth he had read about how the solstice was celebrated, in Wendlyn they observed Yulemas, and he had been curious about Terrasen tradition of celebrating the shortest day of the year. He had read all about the tradition and he knew about the elves too. It had been most fascinating.

“Come with me, I will show you your quarters.”

In silence he followed the valet and kept looking around him in a daze. The castle was stunning.

They were walking along the imposing marble corridor when a tornado of blonde hair slammed nto him and he fell on his arse.

“Oh shit, I am sorry. I got word that Emrys has just took out of the oven a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls and I need to go and try them.” She blurted out. The woman then stood and offered him her hand.

Rowan stood and as he took it his gaze lingered on the female in front of him. Her hair was golden and her eyes the purest turquoise with a ring of gold. She was breathtaking.

“Hi, I am Aelin.” She offered him her hand again.

That was the princess. He collected his thought and decided to stop ogling her like a perv “Hi, I am Rowan.”

She squealed. The princess actually squealed “You are prince Whitethorn.” Her tone was ecstatic “I know you have ice magic. We need to battle together. I need a good magic opponent, will you train with me?”

And only in that instant he noticed that instead of a pretty dress, she was wearing leather trousers, boot and a leather tunic and at her hip she carried a sword and he was positive he had spotted a few knives as well. He was intrigued.

“Not today of course, you just arrived, but maybe tomorrow.”

“It will be my pleasure, your highness, and I am told I am good with a sword too.”

“First of all none of that your highness crap. I am Aelin. I get enough of that from everyone else.” She corrected him, “second, good I need a new sparring partner. With Aedion is getting to easy.”

Rowan smiled “I am quite old and I had a long time to hone my skills.”

Aelin sniggered “Oh, I am looking forward to test those skills.”

Rowan then all of a sudden realised the innuendos and almost facepalmed himself.

“Well, do not let me keep you from your cinnamon rolls.”

Aelin smiled at him and ran away once more. Rowan stood, staring at the spot where she had disappeared. Truth, the woman was gorgeous but there was something else that had attracted her to him. She was beautiful in many more ways than just physically and he was positive now that he was going to enjoy his two weeks in Orynth.

Aelin was running to the kitchens and could not shake off her head the silver-haired prince. Rowan. Gods, even his name was perfect. The male was sex on two legs. He had the most stunning pine green eyes. She could stare at them forever. He was nicely built probably from all his years of training. She just wondered how old he was. She had settled three years before and having an immortal companion would make her happy. And the prince seemed like a good candidate. She was eager to train with him.

Aelin knew he was coming and had researched a lot about Wendlyn and Doranelle and when they told her he was old she had expected a creepy old man. But this… this was perfect. Gods, with him she might even consider the idea of marriage.

She shook her head to dispel the thought.

Eventually she reached the kitchen and the smell of cinnamon rolls hit her.

“Emrys,” the princess ran to hug the cook.

“Hello, my darling. Are you here for you batch?”

“It’s a tradition isn’t it?”

Aelin grabbed her first roll and tucked in, feeling the sugar coating sticking to her lips. She didn’t care. Emrys was used to her sneaking in the kitchen and eating there.

“I met the prince from Doranelle.”

“And?”

Aelin knew she cold speak freely with Emrys “He is gorgeous, and a magic user. He accepted to train with me. He is over a hundred so he will be really good with a sword.”

“Good looking, eh?”

Aelin blabbed on his silver hair and green eyes “and he smells like Terrasen. Which is very strange since he is not even from here but he smells of pine and snow.”

“Does it mean you will dance with him at the ball?”

“Hell yeah, I will kill any woman who tries to dance with him.”

Emrys laughed hard “you know you will have to dance with the other princes too?”

Aelin pouted “I don’t want to. They are all boring. The only decent one is Dorian just because he loves reading and he is sweet.”

“No interest in young prince Havilliard?”

Aelin shook her head “he is a friend and I love him in that sense.” She started eating another cinnamon roll “he is human. I am immortal. Can you see the problem?”

“And you like the prince already?”

Aelin nodded “the first impression was good. I wonder if he reciprocates.”

“I am sure you have impressed him with your fiery personality.”

Aelin laughed and went back stuffing her face.

***

Three days had passed and it was finally the solstice and Rowan was getting ready for the ball. His aunt had him made a stunning green tunic with silver embroidery. It had Terrasen colours and was meant to be a sign of respect. He was not a fan of fancy clothing. He was more partial towards functional clothes or his combat leathers, but that night was special and he had to adhere to the dress code.

In those three days he had trained with Aelin as much as they could and he had discovered that the princess was very skilled. Apparently when it came to weapons she had learned from her cousin who was in charge of the Bane. Terrasen impressive army of warriors. He knew about them even in Doranelle. And Aedion was their general. But what stunned him was her fire power. She was possibly, after him, one of the most powerful fae in existence. Her powers were beautiful and a few times he had stared at the flames in fascination.

She was fierce and stubborn. Definitely not characteristics he had expected in the heir to the throne. He had met other princesses in his life and they were all well-behaved and brought up with the mere purpose of being perfect wives. He found the practice horrifying. That was why Aelin had stunned him. In four days at the castle he had never seen her in a gown. Always in leathers and she had confessed him that she never left her quarters without a few knives stashed on her body. She confessed that she had a thigh strap for when occasion dictated she wore a gown. Rowan was captivated. The princess had definitely attracted his attention and he hoped he would be able to dance with her.

Once he was ready he took a last glance at his attire. His long hair was tied in a low ponytail held together by a green ribbon.

Eventually he left the room and began walking to the ballroom.

Aelin was in her chambers and Lysandra and Elide were getting ready for the dance.

“I heard the Doranelle prince is hot.”

“Who told you.”

Lysandra sighed “Aedion. Your cousin seems to have a man crush on him. He keeps talking about his amazing warrior skills and a few times he mentioned that he is an eye candy.”

Aelin laughed.

“He likes this guy more than me.”

“No he doesn’t. He likes you. He just need to find the courage to confess his feelings.”

Lys sighed “so, about the prince. Sounds like you two have spent a lot of time together.”

Aelin beamed “we did.” She twirled “he is perfect and he is so handsome it hurts.”

“And he is not put off by your past times?”

“What? Combat training? No. He even helped me adjust some of my skills. And fighting with magic with him is amazing.” She kept explaining.

“I think Aelin is in love.” Chimed Elide while finishing to fix her dress.

“Hey, there’s finally a decent male around. I am going to snatch him if I can. I am the heir to the throne, I have precedence.”

“Women beware, Aelin is on a mission.” Joked Lysandra.

Aelin turned and pointed her finger at Lys “mark my words, he is mine.”

The three women laughed and finished getting dressed.

Rowan entered the ballroom and was amazed at the place. The high windows were adorned with evergreens and on their ledges he could see elves sitting down. A massive banquet table spanned the length of the room. Everywhere snowflakes decorations hung from the ceiling and the thrones were decorated too. The place looked magical. Most of the guests were already present and he assumed they were waiting for the royal family to arrive and begin the celebrations.

Five minutes later the imposing doors opened and he saw the king and the queen step in. At the queen’s side walked Aelin and Rowan’s heart stopped at the sight of her. She had the most stunning turquoise gown with gorgeous silver embroidery. She was wearing a tiara and her hair was pulled up in an intricate style. But a boisterous laugh almost burst from him when he noticed the earrings shaped as elves dangling from her ears. She was perfect.

The king and queen took their place at their thrones but Aelin just stood at her mother’s side, probably not expecting to sit for too long.

King Rhoe stood and made a speech to wish everyone a blessed solstice and then invited everyone to have fun and be merry.

Rowan could see Aelin dancing on the balls of her feet. She was clearly eager to have fun so he took a step forward and hoped not to be out of bounds.

He stopped in front of the king and queen “your majesties.” He bowed and wished them both a blessed solstice. Evalin gave him a big grin and her head very gently tilted toward Aelin. Was that a hint? Did he imagined or the queen just encouraged him to dance with Aelin?

He moved a step aside and with a hand behind his back and the other extended he bent his back in a bow “Your highness, would you do me the honour of sharing a dance with me?”

He lifted his gaze and the smile Aelin gave him knocked his breath out. She was the most stunning creature he had set eyes on.

“Prince Rowan, it would make me very happy.” Her gloved hand leaned gently on his and he gave it a very gentle squeeze. Once she was closer she whispered in his ear “Is dancing another one of your special skills?”

Rowan pulled to the centre of the ballroom “menace.” Aelin laughed and the sound was music to his ears.

One hand went on her back while the other grabbed her free one. Aelin placed her free hand in his chest and together they walked to centre of the room to officially open the dances.

Aelin almost chocked when she spotted Rowan in the crowd. With his silver hair it was easy to do. He looked incredible and the green tunic with silver embroidery matched him perfectly. He had chosen to wear Terrasen colours and realised he had Terrasen colours too. His eyes were as green as their pine trees and his hair resembled the snow. And now that she was close to him all he could smell was pine and snow and her idea strengthened. He was a foreign royal but he was Terrasen through and through. Boldly she leaned her head against his chest and almost sighed at the feel of his muscles under the tunic.

“Tha thu bòidheach, mo bhana-phrionnsa.” He whispered with his mouth near her ear.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s the old language: it means you are beautiful, my princess.”

Aelin looked up at him “you are not too bad yourself, prince.”

“Call me Rowan. I don't care being called prince.”

She stared in his green eyes “I am just Aelin to you. I love my name in your lips.”

Aelin had moved even closer and his hand on her back was now holding her more firmly and his thumb was lazily tracing circles.

“You are not allowed to dance with anyone else tonight,” she admitted.

“I think the other princes will be very displeased if you don’t dance with them.”

Aelin rolled her eyes “fine. Just because it’s protocol but while I dance, you wait for me.”

“What if a princess wants to dance with me?”

“I have a knife. She’d better not.”

Rowan gently laughed at her ear “you are feisty.” A pause “I love it.”

“I think my mum approves of you.”

“Your dad doesn’t though.”

She squeezed his hand “Dad hates balls. He is probably counting the minutes until it’s socially acceptable for him to excuse himself.” She explained “He loves the solstice and in the morning we spend time the three of us together and exchange gifts. He shows up to make mum happy.”

They danced a few dances then Aelin dragged him to the banquet table never letting his hand go. Their fingers entwined.

“Have you ever had glögg?”

Rowan shook his head.

“It’s a Terrasen drink for the solstice and winter. It’s perfect in a harsh winter day.” She passed him a cup and he was not expecting the drink to be warm.

“It’s hot.”

“That’s the point.”

Rowan tasted it and although it had a sweet edge to it he loved the mixture of spices. They had a few nibbles and Aelin explained to him all the dishes. In his few days there he had started experiencing Terrasen cuisine so different from Wendlyn where all of the dishes were rich in flavours. The northern cuisine was rich in fish, salmon being the main ingredient. Aelin had explained him that their rivers had a flourishing population. She also admitted that her dad had taught her how to fish. The image brought a smile on his lips. Their cuisine was typical of a country having to face a harsh climate so it was rich in foods to help the body have the right nutrients to deal with the cold. He loved it was rich in vegetables.

He took another sip of the drink and it warmed him deeply. Aelin’s cheek were now flushed red and looked amazing “I like your earring.”

“My mum gave them to me. There’s a wonderful jeweller who sells handmade stuff and mum had these commissioned for me for tonight.”

He smiled “They are whimsical and so very you.”

They finished their drink and Aelin took his hand once more “come on, dance a bit more.” But in that instant a man came to Aelin and asked for a dance and Rowan nodded.

She left and as she walked away her stare never left him.

Rowan followed her. After the first man a few more followed and watched Aelin dance and something akin to jealousy rose in him.

When she came back Aelin wrapped her arms around him “I am all yours again, prince.”

Rowan smiled and took her back in the centre of the room. After that she only danced with him and the closer they danced the more a warm feeling spread through him.

There was a connection between them. Something deep pulling them together and as he held her in his arms he thought he could stay like that forever.

The ball went on until late into the night and when it came the time to leave Aelin admitted to him that she was not ready yet to go to bed. So she suggested to get their winter coats and walk in the gardens.

He met her at the top of the staircase and held her hand out for her to take “let’s go.”

They left the castle and Aelin took him to an area that seemed private “this is my mum’s garden. Only us and the gardener are allowed in here.”

“It looks beautiful.”

Aelin nodded and kept walking until she reached the corner she was looking for. It opened in a lake that it was currently frozen “do you know how to ice skate?”

Rowan shook his head “I am afraid Doranelle never goes below zero.”

“I can always teach you.”

He looked down at her, her blue eyes staring at him and in that instant he felt like kissing her.

Aelin, as if she had read his mind whispered “kiss me, Rowan.”

His hand cupped her face and a second later he kissed her. It was a gentle kiss but Aelin felt her body on fire. Rutting gods. She responded to the kiss and for a while the world stopped around them.

When they eventually separated they were both breathless.

Aelin sighed and leaned against him “do you really need to go back to Doranelle?”

“It depends…”

She kissed him again “what if I order you not to go back?”

Rowan chuckled “well, I can’t possibly displease a princess and risk her waging war on us because she is mad at me, can I?”

Her arms sneaked around his body and he folded his around her.

“Look,” said Aelin pointing at the sky.

Rowan looked up and saw the sky bathed in blue and green light dancing and it was the most stunning thing he had ever seen in his life.

“We call them mirrie dancers they do happen a lot in winter up here.”

“They are beautiful.” Said Rowan in a dreaming tone.

“I want you to stay, Rowan.”

He kissed the top of her head “I want to stay too.”

As Rowan held her he realised his words rang true.

After only a week he knew she was the one and he wanted to spend more time, his whole life even, at her side.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @themoonthestarsthesuriel @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98

#12 days of rowaelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius #fluff

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daylight-imagines · 3 years

Text

Perfect (Dorian Havilliard x Reader)

Fandom: Throne of Glass

Warning(s): none.

Word Count: 1185

Prompt: 15. “I’m pregnant.”

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You couldn't help the shaking of your hands, and you made your way to the healer's quarters in the castle. Courtiers bowed as you passed, but you barely noticed them. Your mind was too busy thinking about everything in your life that had fallen into place. When you were a child you had grown up with Dorian and Chaol, but your family had moved to Wendlyn when you were around fourteen. You moved back a few years after the war with the valg. It wasn't difficult to see how much your friends had changed. At first, it had worried you. There was a heaviness in both of them that hadn't been there when you left. You watched as they both healed, and the happiness you remembered from when you were young slowly returned.

Your friendship with them picked back up right where you left off. Learning Chaol had gone to the Southern Continent for an army, and had come back with said army as well as a wife gave you a big laugh. Yerne became one of your close friends, and you helped her figure out the technicalities for setting up a Torre Cesme in Adarlan.

Then your relationship with Dorian began to change. Your feelings started to move past friendship. The moment those feelings started to surface, you shoved them to the back of your mind. Dorian still grieved for the love he lost even if he didn't show it. You knew him well enough to know he hadn't completely moved past it, and you refused to disrupt the healing he'd managed by adding your own feelings into the mix. So things continued as they had been with the added challenge of ensuring no one found out about your growing feelings for the king.

Apparently, you failed miserably because Chaol and Yerne continuously nagged you about it. They tried to convince you to tell Dorian, but you were convinced you were the last person he would want to be with. It was just your luck that one day Dorian overheard one of these conversations. The other two had quickly made their way out of the room and left you alone with him. The interaction did not go the way you had imagined. You expected him to insult you or to storm away. But that never happened. Well, he did call you an idiot but immediately followed it by pressing his lips to yours.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one who was obvious about your feelings because no one was surprised when the two of you got together. It seemed like everyone except you had expected it. It didn’t take long at all for you to really fall for him.

You knew advisors were pressuring him to marry, so you took advantage of every moment you had with him. It would be foolish for you to believe what the two of you had would be permanent. It would have to end so he could marry some princess or perhaps a queen. So you made up your mind that whenever he decided it was time, you wouldn’t make it any more difficult for him. You knew he loved you, but he had a kingdom to look after. You were convinced that you would be losing him soon, which is why it was such a shock for you when he proposed.

You stared at Dorian wide-eyed as he stayed bent on one knee. This was the last thing you expected when he took you away from the castle.

"You want to marry me?"

"Yes, and I'm starting to get a cramp in my leg so-"

You cut him off, throwing your arms around his neck.

"I can take that as a yes?"

"Dorian, I don't think I'm exactly queen material."

"I think you're perfect," he said before bringing his lips to yours.

Now three years later, you couldn't be happier. Children had come up a few months before your wedding, and you both agreed that you were ready whenever it happened. Until now, you'd never had suspicions. But you were late, and you were starting to notice changes in your body. You hadn't said anything to Dorian. If you were wrong, you didn't want to get his hopes up. So now you were searching for Yerne. You walked into the healers chamber's and saw her looking over a young girl. She saw you enter and gave you a smile which you returned. You walked inside and waited until she was done with her patient. Once the girl was gone and the door closed, you walked over to Yerne.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"I think I might be pregnant," you said. "But I'm not sure."

Her smile brightened, and she told you to lay down. You couldn't help fidgeting as she looked you over. This was something you wanted. You'd wanted it since you married Dorian. After a few minutes, Yerne took a set back, and you sat up. You held your breath, waiting for her to tell you.

"Congratulations."

You let out a small squeal and wrapped your arms around her. She gave you a few tips for the next few weeks, and you left to find your husband. You went through the castle much faster than you had before. You opened the door to your room, wanting to change before finding Dorian but froze when you saw him reclined on your bed, an open book in his lap.

“Hello lo-”

“I’m pregnant.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them, and you watched Dorian’s mouth drop open. He scrambled to his feet and walked over to you. Both of his hands came up to cup your face.

“You’re sure?”

“I just saw Yerne.”

You couldn’t help the scream that left your mouth when he scooped you into his arms and spun you around. His lips were on yours the moment he set you back on the ground. Not a moment later, the door to your room was thrown open, making Dorian pull away and push you behind him. Two guards rushed into the room with their swords drawn. Seeing the two of you weren’t in any danger, they put them away and bowed their heads.

“We heard a scream.

“That’s my fault I’m afraid,” Dorian said. He began to continue, and you were sure you could guess what would come out of his mouth next, so you interrupted.

“No harm done. Thank you both.”

They gave another bow and left the room. Dorian’s arms circled your waist and pulled you close.

“It’s rude to cut someone off love.”

“There are some things that don’t need to be said.”

He laughed and stole another kiss. He took your hand and pulled you to the door.

“Where are we going?”

“We’ve got to tell people.”

The smile on his face made your heart swell. Then just as quickly, a thought came to your head that brought a smirk to your lips.

“Are we telling Chaol or your mother first?”

His answering groan made you laugh. “Oh god, we have to tell my mother.”

----

A/N: I hope you like it!!

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cicada-bones · 3 years

Text

The Warrior and the Wildfire

Chapter 7: Forged

Hi! so. yeah. I'm really sorry. I had a very hard feburary and then a surprisingly difficult march. but i promise you - this isn't going to be abandoned, just taking longer than usual unfortunately. Please let me know what you think!

word count: 3418

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A male, all in black, felt his muscles relax as the lights slowly flickered out of the warehouse across the way. As if someone was walking through the apartment, room by room, blowing out candles. The male looked until nothing more was visible through the darkened window, and a small sigh passed his lips.

A cold wind blew towards him, carrying his death-kissed scent back to the glass castle instead of towards the apartment before him and the Fae hidden within. Lorcan knew that Whitethorn and Galathynius were in the bedroom, but there was another – a male – hidden up on the roof.

The ancient warrior scoffed. It had been even easier than he thought it would be. Without magic, they were all completely helpless. Weak.

All he’d had to do was leave a false trail from the docks through the city and into the busy market square, then turn back to the harbor and wait. Wait for Whitethorn to appear, and guide him straight to the princess.

By that very night, he’d done just that.

Lorcan had to be careful to keep out of sight, to keep the wind at his back and his scent out of Rowan’s path, but before long, his quarry was in sight. That fire-breathing-bitch-queen, arrogant as ever. She was with two others; one, the male who was currently guarding the roof, the other, a human female, with a scent like figs and mint. Soon, the female peeled off from the group, her path headed towards that monstrosity of a castle.

While Lorcan didn’t follow her, he made sure to memorize that unusual scent to keep tabs on her later. Then he followed them back to this warehouse hidden deep in the slums, and the apartment hidden within.

It had all been so easy, so simple. He’d been the one who trained Whitethorn, after all. Lorcan knew how the male worked. He just hadn’t expected him to be this vulnerable without his magic. The idiot hadn’t even bothered to fortify the warehouse when they arrived.

Probably too distracted by the princess’ lips. Or her legs.

It hadn’t slipped Lorcan’s notice that when the lights had gone out, they were both in the same room. A room that contained only one bed.

Disgust rippled through him, disgust and fury. All Lorcan wanted was to slide off his perch, rush into the warehouse, and root the two birds out of their nest. But he had to wait, wait until he could catch them off guard, until there wasn’t a sentry to warn them of his approach.

For even now, without magic, Lorcan couldn’t be completely sure that he could overpower Whitethorn. The easiest way, the only reliable way, would be to separate them. To capture the princess and hold her hostage, ensuring that Whitethorn would stand down. While he negotiated for the keys.

In the meantime, Lorcan could scout out the city, discover its weaknesses and patterns and hidden pathways. So he could plan his attack.

So as the whispers in the bedroom quieted, and even the memory of candlelight had vanished, the warrior slid off the roof and onto the street below. Letting himself be consumed by the night and trying his best not to think of just how completely and utterly alone he was.

Without a nation, without a queen.

All he had left was his purpose, and he would follow it through to the bitter end.

···

Rowan awoke to an empty bed, Aelin’s scent swirling all around him, fresh and clean as the daylight streaming through the window beside him. He could hear her shuffling about the kitchen, filling a kettle with water and lighting the stove.

Rowan turned and stretched, his muscles pulling and tightening in all the right places. It had been wonderful to finally sleep in a real bed, with space lie down properly, instead of curled into that rutting wooden box.

His body and mind felt settled, comfortable, and it wasn’t just because he was finally well-rested. For the first time in over a month, Rowan had slept without a single nightmare.

There were no screams on his lips, no haunting images behind his lids, sweat on his limbs, bile in his throat. Nothing.

Rowan almost felt tears bud in the corners of his eyes, the relief was so intense. He wouldn’t ever let Aelin get away from him again. So long as she wanted him, so long as she needed him, he would be there.

Rowan listened as another set of feet entered the kitchen. There was a moment of silence as the two demi-Fae regarded each other, a moment where Rowan prepared to intercede if necessary. But then he heard Aedion say, softly, “There are mushrooms somewhere.”

“Good,” Aelin said, only the slightest edge to her voice, “Then you can clean and cut them. And you get to chop the onion.”

“Is that punishment for last night?”

A sound like cracking eggs, then, “If that’s what you think is an acceptable punishment, sure.”

Aedion’s voice seemed somewhat cheerier. “And is making breakfast at this ungodly hour your self-imposed punishment?”

“I’m making breakfast because I’m sick of you burning it and making the whole house smell.”

Aedion laughed quietly, then shuffled forwards, the sounds of a knife on a cutting board starting from the other side of the wall.

“You stayed on the roof the whole time you were out, didn’t you?” Rowan could hear the smile in Aelin’s voice, and he felt his lips twitch in response.

Pots clattered, and butter began to sizzle. “You kicked me out of the apartment, but not the warehouse, so I figured I might as well make myself useful and take watch.”

Rowan found himself nodding with approval. The male had crossed the line, but at least he had made himself somewhat useful. But remembering what he had said to Aelin last night…it was enough to make his hackles rise.

Rowan forced himself back to calm as Aelin said, “We both have atrocious tempers. You know I didn’t mean what I said, about the loyalty thing. Or about the half-human thing. You know none of that matters to me.”

It was definitely the best apology he was going to get. And far more than he deserved.

A short hesitation, then, “Aelin, I’m ashamed of what I said to you.”

“Well, that makes two of us, so let’s leave it at that.” There was a moment when all Rowan could hear was the scrape of a metal whisk in a glass bowl, then, “I - I understand, Aedion, I really do, about the blood oath. I knew what it meant to you. I made a mistake not telling you. I don’t normally admit to that kind of thing, but…I should have told you. And I’m sorry.”

Another tension-filled silence. Aedion was holding a knife…

Rowan kept himself very still, until finally, “That oath meant everything to me. Ren and I used to be at each other’s throats because of it when we were children. His father hated me because I was the one favored to take it.”

A pause was filled with more sizzling from the pan, now with what Rowan was pretty sure were fresh green onions. “There’s nothing that says you can’t take the oath, you know, Maeve has several blood-sworn members in her court.” Aelin said. “You can take it, and so can Ren – only if you want to, but…I won’t be upset if you don’t want to.”

“In Terrasen, there was only one.”

“Things change. New traditions for a new court. You can swear it right now if you wish.”

Against his will, Rowan felt his teeth grit together. This pause felt even longer than the others.

“Not now. Not until I see you crowned. Not until we can be in front of a crowd, in front of the world.”

Rowan couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved. He couldn’t begrudge Aedion the blood-oath, but still. He wanted Aelin to himself, for just a little bit longer.

Aelin dumped the mushrooms in the pan. “You’re even more dramatic than I am.”

Aedion snorted. “Hurry up with the eggs. I’m going to die of starvation.”

“Make the bacon, or you don’t get to eat any.”

Then the two cousins started to laugh, and this time, Rowan really couldn’t help the smile that sprang to his face. Their laugh was one of such old friendship, Rowan knew that he was no one to get between them. Knew that these petty disagreements were nothing to the depth of their relationship. The last two children of Terrasen’s throne. The two survivors.

Rowan breathed, then turned to rise from Aelin’s queenly mattress to see about some breakfast.

···

An hour later, they were all fed and watered and were now standing in a wide clearing among the stacks of crates, the late morning sunlight slanting through the windows near the high ceiling of the warehouse.

After breakfast, Rowan had finally gotten around to fortifying the apartment. Aelin had already done a pretty good job with it, heavy locks on all the windows, two types of barrier at each entrance, a carefully disguised exit down the back stairs hidden behind the kitchen, and a first floor that, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be that of a completely abandoned warehouse. There was no indication at all of what lay above.

From the inside anyways. There were six windows on the first floor, all half-width, and four more in the apartment above. Rowan was itching to scout the vantage points from the surrounding buildings, to check what could be seen from the outside.

But after spending half an hour carefully going over every lock and seal, Aelin had dragged him down to this clearing hidden in the center of the warehouse. And Rowan couldn’t deny that he was intrigued to see how Aelin had held up her training this past month, and to find out whether the northern wolf’s bark was worse than his bite.

Rowan and Aelin started with stretches, and after a few minutes she threw him a sparring stick and they started their routine warm up from those misty mornings in Wendlyn’s mountains, falling back into a pattern as warm and familiar as waking up in a bed suffused in her scent.

Sparring with Aelin was glorious. Even with the time spent holed up on the ocean, her movements were fluid and luscious and deadly. She flew between poses, the sparring stick a deadly extension of her arm.

Watching her move, their eyes locked together – it made him want to knock that sparring stick aside, shove her into a wall and peel off that tight black suit –

Rowan breathed deep, his eyes flickering shut for second. And the momentary distraction allowed Aelin to get behind his guard and rap him on the chest hard, her eyes glinting.

Rowan growled at her.

Aelin had always been a formidable swordsman – even during that time after he’d collected her from Varese, when she was drunk and dirty and so, so broken. However, she was now stuck in her human form.

So after a few minutes of easy sparring, Rowan executed a series of cuts and slashes that pushed her back into a defensive position, then when she was distracted finding her feet, Rowan knocked the stick out of her hands.

Aelin smiled wickedly at him, her eyes promising revenge as she turned to collect her sparring stick. Before she could unleash any of it on him, Rowan turned back towards her cousin, and after assessing his balance, strength and agility, began instructing him in a few complex maneuvers.

The male was tired, and clearly distracted by all that had been unveiled over the past few hours. And he was also in pain. He hid his grimaces as best he could, but every time a movement stretched his left side, his teeth would grit. And no matter how careful he was trying to be, his movements off his left side were slow and strained.

Rowan hid his exasperation best he could, even if he knew that Aelin had noticed the exact same details from across the clearing, and was not pleased with her cousin’s pigheadedness.

After half an hour with Aedion, Aelin stalked over from where she had been exercising and said, “I think that’s enough for today.”

Aedion stiffened, ready to make a rebuttal. Rowan held in his growl, his eyes flicking between the two cousins.

A moment passed in silence, then Aedion’s eyes narrowed, then turned back to Rowan. “I heard a story,” the young wolf drawled, “that you killed an enemy warlord using a table.”

Aelin spoke before he could, “Please,” she scoffed, “Who the hell told you that?”

“Quinn – your uncle’s Captain of the Guard. He was an admirer of Prince Rowan’s. He knew all the stories.”

Aelin’s eyes slid to meet Rowan’s, and he smirked at her, bracing the sparring stick on the floor. Her lips twitched, her eyes twinkling with surprise. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “What – you squashed him to death like a pressed grape?”

Rowan choked. “No, I didn’t squash him like a grape.” He shot her a smile. “I ripped the leg off the table and impaled him with it.”

“Clean through the chest and into the stone wall,” Aedion said.

“Well,” said Aelin, snorting, “I’ll give you points for resourcefulness, at least.”

Aedion rolled his neck. “Let’s get back to it.”

Aelin’s lips pursed, and she shot Rowan a look that said, Don’t you dare kill my cousin. Call it off.

However, Aedion wasn’t so slow-witted to miss the look that passed between them. The general’s jaw tightened even as his fingers tensed around the sparring stick. “I’m fine.”

“A week ago,” Aelin said, “you had one foot in the Afterworld. Your wound is still healing. We’re done for today, and you’re not coming out.”

“I know my limits, and I say I’m fine.” The demi-Fae’s words were tight, terse. Rowan found his lips spreading into a slow, sly grin. Aedion met his eyes, his brow tightening.

If he wanted to play, Rowan would play. The cub needed to be taught a lesson.

Aelin groaned, but kept her distance. Rowan found that he was grateful – if she intervened this time, it would take even longer for this to be resolved, and then who knows when it would finally be settled.

Rowan had nearly a full second’s warning before Aedion attacked, a simple feint to the right and swing low. Rowan dodged efficiently, deflecting and positioning to the offensive. Off-balance, Aedion swung his stick upwards on instinct, deflecting Rowan’s blow. Rowan let the young wolf hit the next blow, his lips tugging upwards almost against his will. This would be even easier than he had expected.

Rowan made to sweep Aedion’s legs out, but the wolf twisted out of the way just in time, stamping hard enough on Rowan’s stick to snap it in two and simultaneously making to swing his stick right into Rowan’s face.

Rowan ducked, grabbing the two halves of the stick in his fists and going low, swinging at the general’s legs. Aedion didn’t see the move coming, and had no time to react before he was flat on his back, gasping for breath and tears winking in the corners of his eyes as pain arced through the partially-healed wound in his side.

Rowan was already in place, one half of the stick pressed into the male’s throat, the other in his abdomen, a snarl echoing in his throat.

Aedion was just blinking beneath him, astounded. Rowan made sure his words were quiet enough that Aelin, with her human ears, couldn’t hear him. “Your queen gave you an order to stop – for your own good. Because she needs you healthy, and because it pains her to see you injured. Do not ignore her command next time.”

The muscles in Aedion’s jaw flickered, eyes blank.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed, fury licking at his bones. He pushed the sticks in a little bit harder. “And,” he added, “if you ever speak to her again the way you did last night, I’ll rip out your tongue and shove it down your throat. Understand?”

The general’s jaw seemed to relax slightly, the anger fading from his eyes. His words were hardly more than a breath, “Understood, Prince.”

Rowan stood and backed away, then whirled around as a bright, “Hello!” sounded from the doors to the warehouse.

A beautiful woman with piercing green eyes and flowing black hair was striding into the warehouse, her steps controlled and powerful, but not in the way of the warrior. More in the way of the wildcat.

This must be Lysandra.

Rowan relaxed slightly. Lysandra shut the rolling door behind her, boxes and bags in her arms. She moved like a cat too – soft and silent on the cobbles. No wonder Aelin was using her to spy on Arobynn for them.

She took two steps into the warehouse, then stopped in her tracks, her eyes meeting Rowan’s. Before they could do any more than look at each other, Aelin had stepped around him and was grabbing bags from Lysandra’s arms and steering her into to the apartment above.

Within half a minute they were both gone, the door behind them shutting with a soft click. Rowan turned back to Aedion, who was easing himself up from his sprawled position on the ground.

“Is that Lysandra?” Rowan asked.

“Not too bad on the eyes, is she?” The wolf’s eyes flashed.

Rowan snorted. “Why is she here?”

Aedion began prodding his side, checking to see if the stitches were still intact. “She probably has information about Arobynn.”

Rowan held in a grimace, shutting out the name of that bastard assassin to keep it from distracting him too much. “Yet she doesn’t want you to hear it?”

“I think she finds everyone but Aelin boring,” Aedion said, an edge in his voice. “Biggest disappointment of my life.”

But Rowan didn’t care about this arrogant male and his conquests. For the first time in a long time, she had found someone. Not a warrior, not a cousin. Someone she could keep for herself. He smiled, just a bit. “I’m glad she found a female friend.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aedion’s brow furrow, wondering at the change. Rowan let the softness fall from his face, turning his gaze back to the prince. “Aelin’s court will be a new one, different from any other in the world, where the Old Ways are honored again. You’re going to learn them. And I’m going to teach you.”

This was why he was here, he reminded himself. To form the foundation of her court. To make sure it would be strong.

“I know the Old Ways.” Aedion scoffed.

“You’re going to learn them again.”

The general pulled himself off the ground, his shoulders set back as his expression steeled. “I’m the general of the Bane, and a prince of both Ashryver and Galathynius houses. I’m not some untrained foot soldier.”

Rowan gave a sharp nod, a concession. This was a prince – he could not forget. “My cadre, as Aelin likes to call them, was a lethal unit because we stuck together and abided by the same code. Maeve might be a sadist, but she ensured that we all understood and followed it. Aelin would never force us into anything, and our code will be different – better – than Maeve’s. You and I are going to form the backbone of this court. We will shape and decide our own code.”

“What? Obedience and blind loyalty?” Aedion wasn’t taking the olive branch, but Rowan wouldn’t let the sharpness in his tone get to him, not when he was so close.

He felt the weight of his words as he said, “To protect and serve.”

“Aelin?”

Rowan met Aedion’s eyes, and the wolf’s did not quaver. “Aelin. And each other. And Terrasen.”

Aedion held his gaze for another moment before looking away, but Rowan knew that the young demi-Fae understood. That Aedion knew that what they were daring was something that no one had dared for a very long time. If ever. And that their success would require more than just strength or bravery or strategy.

That this precious, fleeting thing could be stronger than iron, than rock, than the very mountains thrust up from the depths of the earth.

But only if they forged it together.

···

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