#rowaelin month 2022 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

llyncooljones · 2 years

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no fucking in the office - rowaelin month day eleven.

ao3 || masterlist || rowaelin month ‘22 masterlist

prompt: work rivals au

word count: 6633

trigger warnings: language, smut, nsfw, incredibly smutty. mentions of drugs and alcohol

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

the office, early morning.

Glaring at Rowan Whitehorn was Aelin’s favourite thing to do. Something about narrowing her eyes, wrinkling her nose that little bit, and channelling all the hate and anger and dislike and distrust and (just in general) horrible feelings his way, satisfied a deep and yawning hunger inside of her.

So, she did.

Simple as.

She had a need. She had a way to satisfy the said need. She satisfied that need.

And then she did it all over again, at least three more times per day. Depending on her irritability, for how long she saw him, and whether they were close enough for her to glare at him, and for it to actually have an effect on him.

Because otherwise, she was giving herself wrinkles for no good reason, and that was not something she was interested in doing. And she accepted zero criticism on the fact that glaring at Rowan Whitehorn was a good reason. Because it was. And anyone who didn’t think so, was wrong in the most wrong way they could be: wrong according to Aelin.

And the damned thing was that they were both heads of different—and yet similar—media departments at the corporate-dream conglomerate they both worked for. Their jobs were exactly the same, they just handled different aspects.

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius headed up the film, television, and radio departments. She headed the department like no one else ever had, and she did so comfortably. She proofread everything that came across her desk, and she watched all the products she oversaw, she was a fan of everything she processed—because she felt that it was the business.

Rowan Whitehorn headed up the social media, newspaper, and magazine departments. He did his job surprisingly well for a man who had gotten into Harvard on his father’s dime, had joined one of those societies and one of those fraternities, and had got his job by asking his friends ‘whose dad works in media?’ But sadly, he actually was doing a good job, so Aelin couldn’t hate him for being shit and thriving off nepotism, because he was actually bringing in more money from clients than her.

Now, it had become a competition. At the end of each quarter, they added up the stats. Found out who was best, and who would be crowned. Bets were placed, and their bosses never knew. Their first competition had been a year ago.

He had brought in the winning numbers. And she could hardly believe it. She had stayed up hours, during those three months, made more edits, and proofread her documents and proposals more times than she had on her dissertation for university. She had done everything, she had wined and dined her clients, she had met them for drinks, and she had offered the best deals she could. And yet, Rowan Whitehorn was still beating her.

Losing, the first time they had ever competed, killed her spirit. Killed a little bit inside of her, made her wonder a little more often if she wasn’t as good at her job as she thought she was.

A year ago, she had decided that if she couldn’t beat him playing her own game, she would beat him playing his. See if his approach—whatever it was—would help her win. She devised a plan, and set it out perfectly. She cleared her schedule of meetings for a day, on the day that Rowan had prospective clients coming in for a meeting.

She’d bump into them, get to chat with them, ask who they were here to see. Insist she take them to the meeting room, become fast friends, and like magic, she would be invited to sit in on the meeting.

She remembered, distinctly, patting herself on the back for that one.

But after that meeting, everything changed. It happened for the first time, and Aelin wasn’t sure whether she regretted it, or whether she was all too happy it had happened.

It was a toss-up between the two, and she wasn’t which she would rather win.

a year ago, the office

Aelin had to resist the urge to fist bump the air, or whoever next walked by her. She was walking in line with Rowan’s latest client. A mid-size company preparing to launch its new product. They wanted him to take them on, do his thing, and help them succeed. And Aelin had no doubt he would—especially given the recent competition the two had had, which crowned him the better head of department.

She chatted idly to them, smiling, and laughing in all the right places, using fun, anecdotal stories to relate to them, and so that they would relate to her. she tried to include things they seemed to be interested in, made sure they were quickly becoming familiar.

She turned her body slightly, facing the small group more so, and asked innocuously, “I’ve been escorting you to this meeting room, and yet I have no idea who you’re here to see. I am sorry for my lack of manners, but let’s just be glad I remembered myself. Who is it you’re here to see if you can say?”

“Oh, no worries. And yes, we can say. There is nothing scandalous going on here. We’re meeting with Mr Whitehorn. He heads up the department we’re aiming to work with. And, gods, we cannot wait for this meeting. He has such a unique approach. He’s so hands-on and so attentive to our needs as a company, I’ve just truly never met anyone who can tailor a package so expertly. Gods, when we found he was interested in working with us, we all collectively shat our pants. He’s a fucking legend of the industry.” The facial expressions told the story for her, they liked him because he got other people to do his work. These poor people didn’t know.

If these were the services, which he provided each and every one of his clients, then how the fuck was he standing. To be this detailed, this precise, and still be functioning? Fake news. He wasn’t doing it all and then popping into the office with no bags under his eyes.

“Oh, Whitehorn. I know Whitehorn. He’s brilliant, work with him all the time. But I’ve never had the pleasure of watching him in action, particularly. Don’t know why I’ve never sat in on some of his meetings. I truly would love to delve deeper into his style of business. Always learning, always trying to be better. That’s me!” her tone was so incredibly fake; it was beginning to hurt her throat. She hadn’t talked so high-pitched since was a cheerleader in high school.

And much as she’d like to ignore the fact that she was ageing, high school was a while ago. And she was sorely out of practice. She’d need a chamomile tea after this, and a massive helping of chocolate cake to soothe the aches along her throat.

“Oh! I don’t know why I’m only just thinking of this, but why don’t you sit in on our meeting? We’d love to help you broaden your knowledge, and it’s really no skin off our nose, not to better the business. Mr Whitehorn will be fine with it; he’s always been so accommodating.”

To you, she thought bitterly, and he most certainly will not be fine with it.

Glee shot through Aelin, the thought of pissing off Rowan Whitehorn, making her so giddy she could barely contain her laugh—her cackle most likely. She felt extra witchy at the moment.

“Oh, that’s too kind of you. I would love to sit in, my brains like a sponge, always soaking up knowledge!” her vocabulary was killing her, she felt like a child, speaking so happily. She was happy, yes, but not so happy she would be using words you could only know if you had read the thesaurus for a bedtime story.

She was a little annoyed at herself. That she didn’t trust her natural tone and vocab choices to do the job, that she had to rely on accents and tricks to become accepted. But really, the price was fairly low compared to what others did. At least she wasn’t breaking the law.

The rest of the walk passed in quiet murmurs, and sad jokes that fell a little flat. Aelin blamed them on her moment of self-reflection, realising she wasn’t enjoying whatever this was. But she needed to be perfect, unassuming and cutesy, and innocent when she walked into that meeting room. That meeting room she should not be planning to walk into.

They arrived at the door, and through the glass she could see the man himself, reclining in an office chair, spinning gently with no care. He looked light and fluffy, and she knew that if he were a cake—he’d be baked to perfection.

To catch him off guard, she didn’t knock. Just barged in, rude and brash, and all those brutal other things that made her up, that made her Aelin.

“Rowan. Lovely to see you, I bumped into your clients on the way up to my office. Figured I would escort them, and the lovely people that they are, they invited me to listen in on your meeting today. They’ve already said that you won’t mind, so that’s lovely. Honestly, this is so kind of you.” She took control of the room, of Rowan’s reaction, immediately. If she explains things, he can’t go against them without looking like an idiot, and boom! She’s allowed to sit in on the meeting. Funny how that worked.

“Greta, Alberta, Noa. It is so great to see you all again. I have been looking forward to this meeting for the longest time. I’ve been planning like you would not believe. I have to get it right for you guys, I really hope I’ve managed to fulfil all your dreams with what I’ve done.” Fuck. She could see why people loved him, he was just so good at playing to people’s tastes, interests, strengths and weaknesses. It was as though he had taken lessons on how to.

It was probably taught in that stupid little secret society. Or maybe it just flowed in his blood, as money and brains did.

one hour later.

Aelin didn’t think she had run from a room as she had just run from Rowan’s meeting. She was truly disturbed. Utterly horrified. It made her feel sick. To her fucking stomach. She debated if it was worth it to go retch over a toilet. Make sure she wouldn’t be sick.

She decided not. Her trousers were too nice to be knelt on. Let alone knelt on, on a toilet floor. She shivered, not a chance in hell.

She also decided it wasn’t worth bringing a bin with her because then she would have to empty the bin and carry a bag of puke with her to the bins, many floors down in the basement.

No, she would just pull up her big girl britches, be strong, be brave, and make sure she was not sick. Because that would be even more humiliating.

With her office door locked, the blinds for her windows drawn, and her heels kicked off—left somewhere in her office—she slumped down in her chair and placed her head in her hands. She should have never gone to that meeting. It would have been better for her if she hadn’t, better for her mental health most definitely.

But maybe it would have been bad for her sexual health.

Because being in that meeting had awoken something long-hibernating inside of her. she had read enough romance novels, bought enough sex toys, and seen enough porn to understand what it meant to be wet, what it meant to have kinks. And she knew a lot of kinks. Knew a few of them intimately from previous relationships.

But she couldn’t quite believe she had a competence kink.

But, by the gods, did she. She knew she was into butt stuff, knew she loved a little spanking, some choking, some hair pulling. Rough sex was her idea of fun—but competence was a new one. But a fucking heady one, she felt high after watching Rowan fucking Whitehorn be competent to the extreme in that meeting.

So, fucking high.

The way Rowan had moved around the room, never tripping, never stumbling, never seeming unsure—he moved competently. And Aelin found it hot, found it fucking sexually arousing.

The way he spoke, enunciating perfectly, never mispronouncing, his word choices fabulous in a manner she’d never encountered—he spoke competently.

But then, his voice? Oh, sweet, merciful gods, Aelin had a voice kink as well.

It was deep and delicious, with a foreign accent twinging when he moved certain words through his throat, the way his letters rolled over his tongue, or caught on his teeth, or pushed from his lips. She was gone, gone to fucking heaven, to paradise. But a sexual paradise, of course.

And the way he used his hands, he spoke vibrantly, using gestures and a wide range of motions to emphasise his points, to display the excitement of a deal—he used his hands competently.

But his actual hands? Staring at those hands, made her realise her third new kink of the meeting. A hand kink, she wondered if it were real. Or if she needed to make it up.

But, his hands, veins running over the back of it, winding up his forearms in the kind of artwork she would buy. His fingers were thick, his nails manicured—smooth, with rounded edges, and healthy soft skin. A little tattoo on his middle finger, and she was desperate to know what it was.

She was getting wetter, sat in her desk chair, images flashing through her mind of him: competently using those fingers, competently dirty talking her into oblivion. She was so distracted she didn’t hear the jiggle of her door handle, the snick of a key in the lock, the hinges creaking ever so slightly when the door is opened.

She only realised her alone time, her period of self-reflective reflection time, was interrupted when fluorescent light bathed her in its corporate glow and shone holes into her retinas.

“What the fuck was that, Galathynius? I knew you were fucking shady, fucking desperate, fucking competitive, but to the extent that you’ll manipulate my clients into inviting you to our meeting so you could fucking spy on me? So, you could commit some distant relative of corporate fucking espionage? I hadn’t you to be so snake-like. But fucking trust me, I won’t forget!” the voice of Rowan Whitehorn pierced through the office.

She hated herself for thinking it, but she was consumed by the distinct sound of his shouting voice, of its strength and solidity, and how it shot through her nervous system and sent nerve endings haywire just about everywhere in her body.

“That was me being smart about this competition.” She spoke angrily, annoyed beyond sense, her anger was so potent; she was mad to the point of ripping her hair out. she stood from her chair, and rounded her desk to stand in front of Rowan.

“What do you mean? Being smart, you were just fucking spying on me? How is that smart?” disbelief clouded his tone, his anger seemed less though.

“Yes. Smart. Spying was incredibly smart because we were playing different games and competing for the same fucking prize. So, I figured I’d play you at your own game. See if I could beat you with your own tactics.”

“So, you were watching me learn my tricks, to work like me? That correct?”

“Yes. So, that we’d be on an even playing field. So, it would be a fair test or competition.”

“Alright. Tell me, what are my tricks? Examine my body language, tell me how I use words to manipulate my clients and tell me what my PowerPoint colour choices tell you. Come one, if you were watching my techniques so intently, tell me about them.”

Cruel. His words were cruel. There wasn’t a way on this planet that he had any clue she wasn’t paying attention, and yet he had managed to hit the nail on the head, blindfolded, drunk, and a hundred metres away from it.

“Well. You made sure to keep your hands unclenched, and open. Your arms were never crossed, you never slipped into a power pose. Shows you’re open, suggests that you and the client are on the same level, that you want to be there.” She only knew because she had been looking at his hands, so yes, she had analysed his techniques.

Just not the ones in relation to his clients.

“Alright. Very good. Now, my word choices.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Like I’m your subordinate. I’m not. Don’t treat me like I am.” The venom spewed from between her lips, and she loved the sting of it against her lips, loved, even more, the reaction to it from Rowan.

His head jerked back. He looked a little shocked. A little puzzled.

But then he turned hungry. Got this glint in his eyes that told her he was going to eat her alive. And he would be damned if she didn’t enjoy it. She had never met anyone who could master facial expressions quite so, never met someone who could convey quite such meaning with a quirk of their eyebrows.

She’d also never met anyone who threatened to eat her, communicating via eyebrows twitches and lip movements. She’d never met anyone who made her believe they would, who made her believe they would make sure she enjoyed it.

But now, she felt as though she had known that person for a really long time.

“Alright. Tell me about my word choices. Or, tell me why you can’t.” his smirk hit peak smirk levels at that moment, he had never been more smug or full of himself. She’d also never felt so attracted to him.

“You used… a lot of connectives, to demonstrate the cohesiveness of your idea, and you also did that to show how ideas can flow, and how you want to be a smooth ride for them. Show that you won’t jerk them around, starting and stopping.”

“I used and twice, and not too many others. My points were all rather separate. Since you failed, Aelin, your forfeit is to answer the other question.” He made a face, sympathy mixed with unadulterated joy.

It disturbed her and made her wet. She loved this dominance. And she realised she had begun to be submissive, to his dominance in her office. In her own fucking office, he had dared to come in there, and then he had the nerve to trick her into submissiveness. Oh, he was going to feel her wrath.

“You think it's funny, Whitehorn? To manipulate women with whatever tricks your buddies taught you? That it’s all fun and games, a good old laugh and then not much more. Do you realise, that it can be incredibly damaging? That your games could be triggering. That you could be doing damage. No. You don’t, because you can’t think beyond yourself. Honestly, the fucking nerve of you—doing that to me. Go home and get your rocks off, I don’t ever want to see your face again.” She felt good again, comfortable in her own skin, scales and fucking all. She’d rather have spikes than have someone dig their own in her skin.

“Think that was going to stop me? That your little spiel was going to make me realise my own ill-morality? It hasn’t. It won’t ever, I know how to manipulate people, and I am all too happy to do so. You aren’t going to scare me off, keep trying though. You might make a dent one day, sweetheart.” His voice was sweet like condensed milk, his voice was death to her sexual attraction. (That’s what she told herself, in reality, she needed a new pair of underwear—stat!)

“I could only hope. But thank you for proving my point, that all you are is a pile of misogynistic shit, I had my hopes for you, but it’s no trouble to leave you in my dust when I report you. Probably the first person to do so, huh, you tend to prey on the weaker ones, huh? Can’t handle big bites with those little teeth?”

“Sweetheart, you think I don’t know?” his voice was like condensed milk, but even more condensed. She was concerned, even more so. Once more, she was worried he knew. But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t.

“I know you don’t. yeah, daddy’s money couldn’t buy you brain cells, could it? It’s okay though, you wouldn’t be the first person to fail. Don’t be scared of it.” Aelin resisted the powerful urge to rip his teeth from his gums, to pull his hair from his head. She was so beyond mad, beyond annoyed, this was the reason she had gone into corporate, so she could save people from business sharks who were actually clownfish.

“Sweetheart, you spent the entirety of that meeting hanging on my every word. Every time I opened my mouth, you balled your hands into fists. Every, single time. When I took off my suit jacket, you watched my fingers move over my buttons like you were a lion, and they were your gazelles. Trust me, I know.”

Panic. She was spiralling. He was lying. There was a whole lot of stuff going on, and yet none of it could help Aelin. Not one bit.

“You know nothing. You aren’t going to manipulate me. I will not be one of your victims. I won’t. have another go, I won’t fold.” Stay strong, she was begging herself to stay strong. She could not look at how he was biting his lip, how his eyes had darkened. How his sleeves were rolled up, how his veins were throbbing slightly, and pushing at the skin.

It meant he was hot. Aelin did not disagree, he certainly was.

He took a step forwards. Then another. Two more. She scrambled back until she was gripping onto her desk. He continued forward, adjusted the strap of his watch, raked his fingers through his hair, and pulled at his tie where it rested against the hollow of his throat.

All nervous ticks, and yet he made them seem to like shows of confidence. She wanted to kill him, because how very fucking dare he. How very fucking dare he, he couldn’t be a bad fucking person, and yet still be so fucking attractive. The world simply wasn’t allowed to work like that. No, not a chance.

He didn’t stop moving until she was leaning back over the desk, cradled around the front by the angle of his body until his hands gripped the desk beside hers, and he was bending down to whisper in her ear until he was rasping his stubble across the top of her ear. Not a common erogenous zone, but, of course, it just had to be one for her.

And he just had to be able to tell that.

“I know, Aelin, that those goosebumps on your arms aren’t because you’re cold. I know that you weren’t biting your lip to stop yourself from speaking, but for another reason. I know your panties are wet, soaked through. And I know you want me to pull up that skirt of yours.”

Maybe it was okay to back down. If she knew he was able to manipulate, but she was okay with being manipulated, and she was sure he wasn’t actually manipulating her. she was beginning to wonder if he only saved that for subtly changing clients' minds. And it wasn’t as though she didn’t do that, because Aelin did.

Maybe she wouldn’t be a victim, because she wanted this.

Even quieter than before, “Tell me no, Aelin, and I will go.”

And it’s those few words that make her grab his neck, pull his lips down to hers, and whisper into his own ear, quiet like he was, “I want you to fuck me like I won that competition. With all your anger, and all your annoyance.”

He takes it to mean don’t stop, to mean for him to keep talking to her like he has been, so he does. Gods, does he keep talking to her like she deserves it.

“You going to prove my point, or just stand there? I want those fucking panties in my hand, and I want them to be soaked.” Shivers. Gorgeous, beautiful, shivers.

He never moved from his position, still bent over her, still barricading. She worked around him, happy to move around him in this situation. Only too happy to bow to his superiority, as she soaks her panties beyond sense.

With straight arms, she shuffles her skirt up her thighs, baring tanned, soft skin to his feasting eyes, to his hungry-to-bruise fingers. Hurried thumbs yank at the sides of her thong, pulling it jerkily down her thighs, until it dangles off on foot, which she bends awkwardly so she can grab them.

Against her fingers, the fabric was wet. It left a clean, sticky residue on her fingers, and it made a lewd plopping sound when deposited onto Rowan’s oversized palm. He looked down, made a fist, and hummed with satisfaction.

He whispered once more, “Sodden, sweetheart. Such a good girl for getting wet when you’re being shouted at. So, fucking good.”

She moaned, loudly, at his words. She couldn’t contain herself, couldn’t handle the way he spoke those words, the way his accent tossed them around his mouth and spat them out sounding sexier than they ever had before.

“Sweetheart, you need to be quiet, otherwise the others will hear us. I’d love to be able to trust you, but you might become a silly, forgetful little slut during this. And we need to be careful, don’t we?” she moaned again, loudly again. Only affirming his point.

He gripped her chin, pulling her wide eyes to his narrowed ones, and gritted out angrily, “Don’t we, baby?”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, we do.” She couldn’t call him sir, during their first time together, she couldn’t call the other one either. No matter how much she wanted to, she wasn’t going to call her co-worker daddy in the middle of the office, the first time he fucked her.

“Seeing as you’re in agreeance, I’m going to have to gag you, sweetheart. Don’t worry, it won’t be for long, and if you tap my legs, I’ll take it out immediately. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” daddy, she had to stop herself from saying. She nodded quickly, trying to distract herself from the urge, from the need to say it.

With no more preamble, he pried her lips open and inserted the wet ball of her panties into her mouth. She moaned obscenely—but not loudly—as her own taste exploded in her mouth, tasting herself so thoroughly she can barely focus. The idea was heady. The reality was mind-numbingly arousing.

He slid a tantalising finger down the centre of her shirt, on its journey he allowed for it to catch on the middle of her bra. Pulled her bra down using it, until he let it go, and let it snap against her shoulders. It stung, and she moaned, but her gag silenced it.

With hurried fingers, he yanked her blouse from the waistband of her skirt. Pulled at the silken ends of her shirt until they were free, and he could yank it up, over her head, and let it fall gently to the floor. Her chest was heaving, up and down so fast, a red flush stemming from her collar bones and slowly fading.

Aelin scrambled to undo the clasp of her bra, yanking at the hooks until it came free, and her breasts were revealed to the cool, air-conditioned air of her office. Her nipples were pink and rosy, peaked and reaching toward Rowan like he was their God like they were his gods.

A quick pinch had her back arching, a second pinch had her wetness slipping down the inside of her thigh. The third pinch had her begging loudly through the gag, not to be heard.

With Aelin distracted, Rowan worked on her skirt, pulling it down over her hips, yanking it brutally when it would move. After too much time, the stinging sensations on her nipples were wearing off, and the skirt was finally around her ankles.

She was naked, entirely bared to Rowan, whilst the door was unlocked, whilst anyone could walk in. And all it did was make Aelin wetter, was make Rowan harder. Make them both more desperate to fuck.

She was amazed, at how in tune they were despite this being their first sexual encounter. It usually took a guy a couple of tries to understand her needs, and none of them had ever been able to do it instinctively before she even realised that she felt that way.

His broad shoulders were posed between her thighs, pushing the supple out, spreading her legs, showcasing her core to him in the truest, illicit way.

He knocked her clit with his nose, sniffed deeply, and exhaled onto her clit, the nerves screaming violently at her, pitch forks and torches at the ready if they didn’t get what they wanted. And they wanted satisfaction.

“We need to hurry, sweetheart, because I have another meeting in twenty, and you have another in half an hour. The good news is, that your little cunt is so good and so pretty that it’s already so wet. So, I don’t need to waste time getting you ready, apparently, it only took me shouting at you to make your pussy hungry for cock.” His tone was cruel, his words we cruel, and yet Aelin was looking at Rowan with some sort of sex-induced admiration because she had never been made to feel this way by anyone else. “You ready for my cock, baby, ready to take it in that greedy pussy of yours. That fucking slutty pussy, so wet already.”

He stood and his height only served to make Aelin rub her legs together, those bunching muscles making her whimper—at the thought of what they could do to her. With a firm grip on her hips, he twisted her over, so her breasts were pressed against the cool material of her desk, and so she had to tilt her head to the side, so she didn’t smash her nose.

With so little effort, she could hardly believe he could do it. She couldn’t deny that it turned her on, that he treated her like a doll, that he was strong enough to do so.

A hand rested on the small of her back, whilst the other delved into the pocket of his slacks, to grab his wallet and extract a condom. He tore the packaging with his teeth, and she hoped he didn’t tear the latex, really hoped.

If she was debating calling this man daddy, she couldn’t have a baby calling him that too.

He rolled it on with practice she was grateful for, and notched himself with confidence, and fucking competence, at her opening. Nudging her clit first, he began to enter Aelin. He stretched her blissfully, stretching what needed to be, rolling against all those hard-to-reach spots with fingers.

Thick fingers trailed up her spine, grabbing the nape of her neck, before sliding to grab her hair in a tight, unmoving fist. With leverage she hadn’t found in anyone else, he pulled her back into a slight curve, her body cooperating in harmony with his will.

With each hard thrust, with every roll of his hips, Aelin was moaning, grunting slightly, or praising the thickness of his cock. She had her hands pressed against the desk, needing so desperately to have an anchor to the real world because her co-worker's dick was surely about to send her into heaven like it was God.

She was definitely praising it like it was the lord like it was a blessing, and a miracle and good, fucking brilliant. “You fuckin’ like that, huh? Having your hair pulled on like your gonna follow, well-behaved like you know this is your place. Didn’t even try to fight me when I put my dick in you. Why would you when you’re already so wet, so needy and desperate for cock that you were dripping down these soft thighs of yours.”

She loved it.

He let go of her hair slowly, lowering her middle down to the desk, continuing to thrust, not feeling sorry about the bruise she would have along her hip bones from the desk at all. When she let her chin rest on the desk, Rowan’s cock unmoving, and so thick inside of her that she might just orgasm like this, he grabbed each wrist and placed them at the small of her back.

The other hand loosened his tie, yanking it from under the starched collar to wrap it three times around her wrist before tying it in a bow so pretty he wanted to picture it. He wanted to take a picture of the unholy stretch of her pussy around the thick, ruddy root of his cock, the little rosebud of her ass. Clenching in time with her pussy around his cock.

Aelin was feeling crazy bent over her desk, every time she attempted to thrust back on his cock, his thick thighs stopped her, every time she tried to rub her thighs together he stood more firmly between them, making sure they spread, every time she tried to grunt, he managed to move backwards and away from the needy bud of her clit without moving inside of her cunt.

Aelin was desperate, she was moaning with every breath she took, she was dripping down his balls as she became needier and needier, she was trying anything to give herself relief. A big palm cradled the back of her head, keeping it in place, whilst his other hand went around her wrists and his tie-bondage.

She knew he was gaining leverage, knew it meant he was about to fuck her until she saw God sixteen times over, and felt higher than she would after two lines of cocaine. He moved his hips back, and the soft scrape of his cock across the walls of her pussy had her mouth splitting open and her makeshift gag falling to the table in front of her.

A long, loud, ludicrous, and gaining Rowan’s attention. Moving his hand from the back of her head, thrusting in and out of her cunt at a speed she can’t comprehend, he pulls his index and middle fingers in front of her face. “I can put my thumb there, baby, if you’re more comfortable with that?” his words stuttered slightly, feeling the effects of her warm, wet cunt and the arousal dripping out her pussy.

She wraps her lips around his fingers and lightly bites at them, digging her teeth in harder than necessary. to the extent that his heavy, steady, dizzying thrusts paused, and his hand came cracking down on her ass. she did it again, just to test her theory, and his hand once again slapped against the fleshiest part of her ass and sent pleasure travelling to all areas of her body.

Sent her pussy clenching crazily around his dick, her clit begging for attention.

Even in the form of slaps and spanks.

His thrusts turn frantic, desperate. Each thrust has him gasping out praise for her, calling her his best whore, telling her she’s the best fucking cunt he’s ever felt. Aelin’s eyes are welling up as her orgasm approaches, as the edge comes closer.

Her cunt is squelching and clenching, and she’s gasping for breath. She’s not quite sure of her own name, but as she reaches her peak, as her orgasm spreads along her nerves from head to toe, she sure remembers Rowan’s. Dropping his thick, saliva-coated fingers from her mouth, “Fuck, Rowan, you’re fucking me so good. Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh my gods!” her breathing has never been so heavy, she’d never felt so heady, she can feel her orgasm begin.

And then she shatters, feeling herself in every nerve ending, feeling insane as she comes, moans leaving her mouth, all sorts of praise about the fucking stupendous cock that was fucking her steadily through her orgasm.

Fucking her until his thrusts stuttered until he hit her g-spot so brutally she screamed and felt a smaller, second orgasm spread through her body and send her limp on her desk.

Buried to the very hilt, balls against her thighs, Rowan was coming. Hips juddering and jerking, mouth open, sweat dripping artfully down his temple, caught at the end of his eyebrow.

After his final jerk, he slumped over Aelin. Cradling her in his arms, so intimate for two people, who thirty minutes ago hadn’t ever been stood next to one another.

He stayed, slowly softening inside of her for a while, breathing heavily onto her bare shoulder blades, whilst her own heart thumped, and her own breath was not yet ready to be caught. It was too long, by one-night-stand standards.

But neither seemed to care, both seemed to love the calm, the quiet, the simplicity of life in those post-nut clarity moments. But soon, Aelin knew she would panic over sleeping with Rowan. And unbeknownst to Aelin, Rowan would be stressing out because he’s finally given in, and now she believed he was an asshole manipulator, not just her opposition in healthy competition.

All too soon, Rowan pulled out and slipped the condom off, tying the top and wrapping it in tissues, before dumping it in her bin. Then he was tucking his dick back into his underwear and his slacks, doing up buttons, zips, and belts. Righting his hair and dabbing at his forehead with some tissues to get rid of the sweat there.

All while Aelin was still stuck in her tie-bondage. Rowan was apologetic over it, sorry that he hadn’t been more attentive. But Aelin didn’t mind, it gave her a few moments to cool off, and calm down. Which she most certainly needed.

He was rubbing her wrists as she sat up slowly but dropped them the second he realised what he was doing. Because that wasn’t very Rowan Whitehorn of him. She slowly got dressed, finding her clothing in all the spots it had been discarded.

A throat was cleared, and an apologetic Rowan stood before her, “Sorry. About your panties. Your day is probably going to be really uncomfortable after this, didn’t really think of that.” It was the first time Aelin had seen him look sheepish, and she felt her heart constrict when he gripped his wrists together and tugged.

He truly did look torn up over it, his concern made her feel torn up.

“It’s no worry, I have a couple of spare pairs in my desk drawers anyway, you never know what could happen. A period leak, or kinky, panty-gag sex with your work rival. Ha.”

He walked out of the door like that, and Aelin found that for the first time, she didn’t want to celebrate when she saw his back. She decided she wanted to see it in a mirror as he pounded into her, all those back muscles she didn’t know the names of working to help him, pleasure her.

And decided she would make it happen. No matter what. She would make Rowan Whitehorn fuck her again, and she would figure out if he really was that much of an asshole.

#rowaelinscourt #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin month 2022 #rowaelin month #rowaelin #rowaelin smut #my smut #tog #tog fic #throne of glass fic #throne of glass #my fic #my writing #smut #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #llyncooljones' writing

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tomtenadia · 2 years

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Rowaelin month - Library of dreams

Rowaelin month day 12 - Rowaelin in the library he gave to her ( @rowaelinscourt)

It had been only two years since the end of the horrible war that had gripped the land. Terrasen was slowly showing signs of recovery, but they were still a long way from the prosperous land it had been before the conflict. Aelin and her court had worked hard to keep the promise she had made on her coronation day. To guard, nurture and honour Terrasen. Certain days it had been harder than other as Aelin spent hours on end in meetings with the council to try and improve things. On his part, Rowan had supported her and when needed he had attended to his courtly duties, although Aelin knew that he hated it very much. Rowan preferred manual labour so he had started working on the rebuilding plans and the citizens of Orynth and Terrasen were getting now used at seeing the king consort working hard to rebuild all that had been destroyed. Aelin had confessed that the people loved it and he had become very popular. A bit too popular, she would add as a joke. Rowan had also started training young magic users and some of the new recruits for the guards.

On top of that, the king consort had been working hard on a second project. As a mating present he had given Aelin a theatre and promised a library too. All of it with the funds he had recovered once Maeve was dead. He was prince of Doranelle once more and could afford to gift his mate with what she liked the most.

And that was where he was headed now. The library was in Orynth. It was meant to have the best collection of books in the north of Erilea. He had contacted scholars who had fled Terrasen after Adarlan’s invasion. They were going to bring back all the collections they had stashed away to prevent such treasure from being destroyed. With the help of Lysandra and Elide who had travelled back and forth from Caraverre and Perranth respectively he had set up sessions for young people to learn to write and read and for older folks to learn new skills. The library was going to be public. Aelin believed that everyone should have access to it for free.

It had been a painstaking job that took almost two years. But now it was almost opening time and he was looking forward to show it to Aelin. They would have an evening just the two of them and then it would be followed by the royal inauguration.

He reached the building and looked at the structure. The dome was made of glass and the outside walls were of granite. It was a stunning building. the main doors where in heavy local wood and had carvings that he had chosen personally. There was a stag, prominent, representing Terrasen, and beside it a flame that was Aelin. On the other door there was a hawk and a depiction of the Little Folk, marking the Fae heritage of the land. He brushed the woodwork and smiled happily. Aelin would definitely love it.

Inside, the head scholar met him and quickly gave him an update and Rowan relaxed in knowing that all was on schedule for the grand opening. He wanted the library to open its doors on the second anniversary of the end of the war. He had contacted all of their friends and allies. All of this without his beloved wife knowing. A task that had proved hard considering her large network of minions.

“Your Majesty, please, let me show you the main room.”

Rowan followed the scholar, hands behind his back while his eyes appreciated the beautiful work.

The two walked through a heavy door and once inside Rowan gasped. The room was circular and the walls were covered in books from floor until just under the edge of the glass dome. The shelves stacked with books and ladders leaning against the wall to allow people to access the higher levels. It was a dream.

“We have shelves in the middle too and a catalogue system too that people can browse.”

“This is incredible,” he breathed as he kept looking around him in amazement.

The man at his side motioned to follow him and Rowan forced himself to leave the room “these are the study rooms you have requested and we have created a way for people to register with us, obtain a card and borrow books too.” “Her majesty will be extremely happy with the incredible work you have done.”

The man bowed his head “this is a magnificent project and my colleagues and I are very proud to have helped.”

A week later Rowan was in the royal chambers and was getting ready. It was the evening he had planned to take Aelin to the library and was waiting for his wife to finish her bath.

Aelin appeared a few minutes later with a towel around her body.

“Why all dressed up, buzzard? Did Fenrys threw a function behind my back?”

Rowan moved closer and kissed the spot behind her ear “get dressed, fireheart. I have a surprise for you.”

“A chocolate one? Because for that we can stay in bed and have far less clothes on.”

“Get dressed, menace.”

She gave him a small bow “at your orders, my king consort.”

When it was time to leave he grabbed a cloth big enough “it’s okay if I blindfold you?” Two years might have passed but he knew that some of the trauma she had suffered in the coffin had never actually fully left her.

“Yes, it’s okay.”

The carriage ride lasted a good ten minutes and Aelin had sat at his side with her hands in his. He felt bad for blindfolding her but it was meant to be a surprise.

“We are here, fireheart. It’s almost over.”

With extra care he guided her off the carriage and through the door. No one was going to be in the library. He had ordered to have the place all for himself and his queen.

He pushed Aelin at the entrance of the main room and finally removed the blindfold.

Aelin gasped and looked around speechless. She took a tentative step and lifted her head to stare at the never ending amount of books, at the moon light filtering through the glass dome illumniating the walls.

“Rowan…” she turned and looked at him still incapable of express what she was feeling. Rowan stared at her joy and his love for her grew even more.

“Your library, fireheart. It took me a while but I promised.”

“Ro, this is stunning. This place is incredible.”

He took her hand and started walking around the room looking at the various sections until Aelin burst out laughing “did you really create a corner with romance books?”

“Of course, I had to ask Lysandra for some recommendations but yes.”

Hand in hand they walked the entire perimeter while Aelin’s hand brushed the covers.

Rowan then took her to the old books section where the scholars had brought in some of the ancient manuscripts..

“Come,” he took her hand and guided her to the spacious reading room. Along the walls there were shelves too but definitely smaller compared to the main room. There were tables with chairs and a couple of sofas.

“The library will be open to everyone. People will be able to come and borrow books or just stay here and read.”

“I love this, so much.”

“There will be also session to teach people to read and write or help with anything they need. And this is only the beginning.”

Aelin walked to her husband and kissed him softly “after all the pain our land has suffered, this place is a beacon of hope, and I love it so much.”

Rowan chuckled and extracted something from his tunic.

“This is for you, it’s your library card. You have number one. The first user of this magnificent place.”

She leaned against him “now you are making all wet.”

Rowan laughed hard and lifted Aelin on the table “Library card,” he whispered in her ear.

“I love when you talk dirty to me, buzzard.”

“Books…” a kiss on her neck “romance books, mythology… books… books… books…”

Aelin gripped the hem of his tunic and pulled him, closer. Her lips crashing against his for a sizzling kiss “I assume we are all alone.”

Rowan nodded.

“Then I order you to celebrate this achievement with me, husband.”

Rowan lifted Aelin back in his arms and started walking back to the main room and deposited Aelin on the floor and ran away. He came back a moment later with a blankety and some wine and a white box.

“Buzzard…”

“I was prepared.”

He spread the blanket and filled two goblets of wine and then opened the box exposing a chocolate cake.

“Now I am really horny.”

Rowan’s boisterous laugh resonated in the empty room “you love chocolate more than me.”

Her hands brushed his hair now long once again “you are right behind, I promise.”

He leaned forward and kissed her deeply.

Chocolate cake and wine forgotten, Aelin pulled him down towards her “How much you want to make love to your wife surrounded by books?”

His reply was an avid kiss

Together they had a picnic in the library, celebrating life and dreams and the flicker of hope that was now burning brighter every day.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98 @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart

#rowaelin #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin month 2022 #rowaelin month

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foreverfallingforthestars · 2 years

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Going to You

I wanted to make this a longer project, but I don't have the time nor the energy to add to my WIP lmao. But either way, I really hope that people enjoy this cute little (not so little?) story about long distance friends meeting!! Also the banners I'm making for these are so trash but I'm rolling with it lol. As usual, let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list for TOG!

Word Count: 2729 CW: cursing Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month 2022 Masterlist

Day 3 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Travel/Vacation

~~~~~~~~~~

>> Look, it’s you! I appreciate you. *Attachment: a picture of a hawk trying to pick up a tortoise with the caption: ‘HAWKS. Born to make you feel smarter’*

<< Aelin.

>> Yes?

<< Shut up.

Aelin laughed out loud as she locked her phone and tucked it away into her pocket before walking into the conference room for her meeting. It was always nice to get a laugh in by teasing her best friend when her day was dragging , especially when she knew that he wasn’t going to get his feathers ruffled just from a simple joke.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, Aelin had to suppress another laugh. She wished that she could’ve seen his reaction in real time but alas, that was the way things worked with them — texts, phone calls, the occasional video calls.

She had met Rowan Whitethorn accidentally a year ago, and if she were being honest, she felt as though the fact that the two of them had met was simply a stroke of fate, not an accident.

It was one of many late nights that Aelin had been spending at work, waiting for a client to respond to her email, when she decided to waste time on Instagram, and as she got further and further down her scrolling spree, she came across book editor Rowan Whitethorn’s page about current popular books on social media and how social media was causing waves of trends amongst the book community. She messaged him about the video, something that she normally didn’t do. The most Aelin would do to interact with others online was like the reels and posts she would see.

She still didn’t understand why she had decided to click on his profile and message him, but that was what kickstarted their friendship. The four hour time difference between Terrasen and Doranelle made it so Aelin’s late night was merely Rowan’s early evening, and somehow they made it work. The single message had spiraled into a conversation that lasted for hours, and Aelin had left at nearly eleven that night, despite finishing the last bit of work an hour earlier. The next morning, she had awoken to a few more messages from Rowan, seeming incredibly hesitant as he wondered if they could continue the conversation.

Aelin wholeheartedly agreed.

Soon enough, the conversation had moved off of Instagram to texting as they shared phone numbers, and then whenever Aelin was driving home from work, she’d call Rowan and they’d talk on the phone, and on weekends, they would video call too. Within a year, everyone around Aelin had spoken to Rowan at least once and they all knew that he was her best friend. They were essentially penpals, but it was also so much more. Rowan was her rock, her home away from home, and every day she would look forward to the moments when they could get a few messages in.

To be fair, half the time the messages would involve Aelin teasing Rowan for being such a fussy, old man — she didn’t even care that he was thirty years old, four years older than her twenty six. There was one time where Aelin was sick enough to sleep through the day, and Rowan swore he thought she had gone up and died without telling him. Needless to say, he now had her cousin, Aedieon’s, phone number, and she had gotten herself a worrywart across the ocean.

It wasn’t as though she would trade that for the world, though, because even though she had never met Rowan in person, she was fairly sure that he was her favorite person in the world, and the feeling probably extended past friendship, but Aelin would be absolutely batshit insane to ever tell him that, especially over text .

But despite everything, she wanted to do something special for the two of them, so ever since Rowan had mentioned that he needed a weekend off away from his normal life, she decided that she would take it upon herself to plan the perfect little weekend vacation that they could use to meet up as well.

Aelin had booked the tickets to a small group of tourist friendly islands called Mistward last night and was waiting for the perfect time to forward the ticket information over to his email, and what better time would it be than to do it when he knew he couldn’t call her and chew her out because she was going to be in a meeting? Deciding to bite the bullet, she opened up her email, entered Rowan's email address, and hit forward before setting her phone on vibrate and pulling up a notes app on her tablet as the meeting began.

Sure enough, within minutes, her phone started vibrating. Discreetly looking down at her watch where the notifications were also coming through, all she saw was her name coming from Rowan, and she suppressed a smile at the thought of how angry he would pretend to be.

It took longer than expected to get back to Rowan thanks to the meeting running longer than the allotted forty five minutes, but Rowan had responded as soon as she did.

<< Aelin.

>> I thought you told me to shut up, so I did!

<< You did not just pay for two tickets to an island destination for this weekend.

>> I most definitely did, buzzard.

<< I can’t expect you to pay for me like that

>> Get used to it because if it were up to you, you’d never take a break

>> Says the woman working sixty hours a week?

<< Shush this is my moment to make sense

<< Just accept it! This is our moment to meet, Rowan

Aelin had to wait a couple of minutes before Rowan responded, and the entire time she was waiting, she tried not to chew her thumbnail down to the very nub, and thankfully she succeeded, but just barely.

>> Fine, but I’m paying for dinner.

<< It’s a date.

~*~*~*~*~

In mere minutes, she would be seeing Rowan Whitethorn for the first time.

In mere minutes, she would be touching Rowan Whitethorn for the first time.

In mere minutes, she would be with her best friend for the first time, and Aelin absolutely could not deal.

She never realized that it could be strange, the feeling of meeting someone for the first time despite having known such deep and sincere things about them.

She had known the pain of loss that he had felt when Lyria had died, just weeks after getting engaged to her, and he had understood the guilt she felt when Sam had died due to a drunk driver because he was trying to pick her up from a party one night.

Aelin knew Rowan, but it was incredibly weird to think about how she didn’t really know him at the same time? She didn’t know if he cracked his knuckles frequently like she did or if he liked to twitch his leg; however, she desperately hoped all of that would change over the course of the next two days.

The two were expected to land within thirty minutes of each other (which was a miracle in of itself considering the time difference of leaving on a Friday afternoon) and had decided to meet up at the baggage claim area, and so there Aelin was, sitting on her suitcase with her phone in hand as she scrolled through Rowan’s Instagram pictures, trying to visualize his small photos as a real, live human before deciding that the entire idea was stupid and she needed to get her shit together.

He was going to be here in…three minutes, and she felt the pterodactyls rushing her stomach. Oh god, she could not throw up here. That would be such a bad way to meet someone for the first time. Instead of thinking about all of the nerves, she focused on looking at her notes app and checking through the itinerary of what they were planning on doing. As soon as they got out of the airport, the plan was to get to the hotel that Aelin had booked where they had connecting rooms and immediately go out walking without a plan to find the little nooks and crannies of the area with the restaurants without lines going out the door. Those places tended to be more authentic and not geared towards tourists. Obviously, they were going to do all the touristy things later on during the rest of the weekend before they had to leave Sunday night for the flight. It was in the plan that they would be going to the Oakwald Wilderness Park and swimming in the local waterfalls. After that, they would also be going to the beach and just spending a while tanning in the sunlight, but for the most part, Aelin wanted the chance to relearn her best friend in person .

She was so lost in looking at her phone that she jumped when she felt someone touch her shoulder. Whipping her head around, she startled as she took in the man standing in front of her with a slight nervous smile. His tan skin was a contrast against the silver hair that Aelin had only seen through screens. The tattoo running down his left arm was exposed as well, another thing that Aelin had only seen in detail through her screen as he showed it to her through the camera. Finally, she looked into his pine-green eyes, and it finally hit her that the man in front of her was Rowan.

Her Rowan.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, standing and turning around at the same time, nearly tumbling off the suitcase. Rowan grabbed her gently by her forearms to steady her, and they stood there for a moment. Aelin was aware that they probably looked like a pair of idiots pretending to be in a movie, but it felt as though time had stopped for her as she took in Rowan until she had the presence of mind to speak.

“Hi, Buzzard,” she greeted with a smile, her heart filling up with emotions she was starting to parse through and understand was excitement and happiness and the nerves of seeing a man she liked. Rowan let go of her with a laugh, but he didn’t go far.

“Hey, Fireheart,” he greeted back, and she let out a laugh of relief. He was in front of her, and they were going to do this.

At first it was a bit strange to be talking to each other in person, but eventually they fell into a familiar rhythm of teasing each other and talking about literally anything. Even as they got settled into their respective hotel rooms, they left the connecting door open to scream across as they unpacked. Eventually they made their way out of the hotel and started walking around. There were moments that she wished Rowan would just take a hold of her hand, but the more rational part of her brain knew that it would be weird.

“So, this is weird, right?” she finally gave in and asked as they continued to dodge other tourists walking around the pathway as the sun was slowly setting, casting an orange glow over the buildings.

Rowan looked down at her with a smile. “Yeah, but it’s a good weird.”

“How is weird ever good?”

“I mean, you’re weird.”

“Excuse you,” she retorted in an offended tone and a hand on her heart. Rowan just laughed again, and Aelin couldn’t get over how rich it sounded in real life.

“I can’t get over how I can just reach over and touch you,” he explained, a genuine wonder in his expression as he poked her cheek gently with his index finger.

Swatting his hand away, Aelin hummed in agreement. “I’m mad that you’re so much taller than me.”

“It’s amazing how you’re so small, honestly.”

“I’m tall for a woman my age!”

“Is five feet tall?”

“You’re an asshole. I’m five seven!”

“Yeah, tiny,” he retorted as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side to avoid a bike rider that she hadn’t seen until he was basically past them. “And blind, apparently.”

A meek, “Shut up,” was all that Aelin could manage after being pressed up against the hard muscles and ridges of his body. She didn’t immediately move away, but he also didn’t let go of her as they finally found a small cafe type restaurant without too many customers inside.

Dinner was full of brushes of their hands as they passed dishes amongst each other, partially because it was accidentally, but also partially because Aelin still couldn’t believe he was in front of her. She had a sneaking suspicion that Rowen felt the same way because as soon as they stood up after he paid, he had laid a palm on the small of her back, and slowly, very slowly, the hand had moved to rest around her waist. There was a hesitation in his motion, as though he were waiting for her to move or to say something against it, but there was no part of Aelin that was against it. The lights of the night sky on the island, the fresh breeze, and the scent of the snow emanating from Rowan had her feeling the most calm and comfortable that she had in weeks.

They didn’t feel the need to spend the walk back to the hotel by talking, and instead just basked in the others’ presence. The rest of the trip followed a pattern where they would talk when they had things to talk about but it wasn’t as though they were under an obligation to fill the silence. The new thing about the two of them, however, was the touching. It was normal for Aelin and Rowan to leave calls or video calls on when they ran out of things to talk about, just to have companionship, and obviously they couldn’t touch through a screen, but Aelin wasn’t expecting that she would constantly be looking for an excuse to touch him. Rowan never said, either. They walked arm in arm through the Oakwald Park, and the thought of the lingering touches to her bare waist as they went swimming through the waterfall still brought heat to her cheeks.

When it came time for their Sunday night flights, Aelin didn’t want to go, but more importantly, she didn’t want to let Rowan go, either.

“I had a great time,” she said as they stood in front of a Starbucks in the airport. “I wish this weekend weren’t ending.”

Rowan raised his hands to cup her cheeks before softly rubbing circles with his thumbs. “Me neither,” he quietly said.

“Is it bad to say that I’ve had more fun with you over the last two days than I have in a really, really long time?”

“No,” he answered with a smile. “I did too. I also…don’t want to let you go. I want to keep you by my side.”

“Then don’t,” she responded with, as a last ditch effort. “I like you, Rowan. I really like you,” Aelin confessed.

Her heart filled with hope as she took in his responding bright smile. He didn’t respond, though, with words. The pterodactyls were back as his lips brushed hers gently once, twice, before pulling back when they called boarding for his flight.”

“I’ll see you soon, Aelin. I promise.”

He smiled at her before kissing her forehead and squeezed her hand once before he walked away, taking a part of her heart with her.

Until a minute later her phone pinged with a notification. Pulling it out, she let out a loud laugh as she looked at the email notification.

Congratulations, Mr. Whitethorn! We are happy to officially extend an offer for you to work in the Terrasen branch of our publishing house, starting in two weeks.

She didn't even finish reading the rest of the email before texting the man.

>> Rowan.

>> Rowan!

<< What?

She could practically hear the laughter in his voice.

>> You couldn't have told me this sooner?!

<< It was too much fun seeing you upset over me.

>> Rude.

<< I'll see you soon, Fireheart. Have a safe flight.

Aelin snorted even as she tried to stop herself from bawling like a dumbass in the middle of a very public airport.

>> You too, Buzzard.

Taglist: @thegreyj

#rowaelin month 2022 #rowaelin month #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #romance #best friends to lovers

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slytherhys · 2 years

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I've Just Seen a Face

Rowaelin Month, Day 1: Song Fic

based on the song I've Just Seen a Face by The Beatles (a cute song about love at first sight)

A/N - I wrote this some time ago so I'm not even sure it's any good (I'm kinda scared to rr it). Hope you like it!

I've just seen a face I can't forget the time or place Where we just met She's just the girl for me And I want all the world to see we've met

Had it been another day I might have looked the other way And I'd have never been aware But as it is I'll dream of her tonight

Every day before going to work (always right on time, might he add) Rowan likes to enjoy a medium cup of hazelnut latte sold specifically by the café just two blocks down from his apartment. The owner, Aurelia Banks, a kind old lady that never spells his name correctly (yesterday he was a Ruben), makes the best lattes in the entire city of Orynth and her pastries are enough to make a grown man cry. Sure, she regularly comments on his tattoos and dyed hair, but it’s a small price he’s willing to pay to get access to her baked goods and sweet coffee. His friend Lorcan likes to tease him relentlessly about his coffee addiction, but truth be told, Rowan can’t start his day without it. And he never had to. At least not until a random day in September when, for the first time in his 6 years living here, Aurelia closed for “an undetermined amount of time.” No explanation whatsoever. No return date. Nothing.

Rowan can’t exactly say Aurelia is the only café available in Orynth, but something about his morning routine being disturbed doesn’t sit right with him. Especially not when he knows he now has to walk an extra 10 minutes to stop by the only café that could possibly be open at 6:30 in the morning on a Friday. Rowan can admit their coffee is pretty good, but something about the owner makes him unexplainably angry. A man that calls his own café “Chaol’s Beans” should never be trusted.

The café itself is pretty pleasant – a mix of earth tones with vibrant patterns that seem to compliment the smell of coffee. That and the soft music playing create a cosy atmosphere Rowan could see himself enjoying – if only not for all things Chaol. The place is empty except for a girl studying in a booth by the corner and a couple trading bites of their food and speaking softly with each other. Not weird considering the time, except for the fact no one appears to be working either. Not that it bothers Rowan – it’s not like he’s not already 5 minutes late or anything.

Sighing loudly, Rowan leans against the dark counter, trying to see if he can find someone to serve him some coffee, but he only hears voices coming from behind the service doors. Loud ones, too. Something about sweets and a bad temper. He doesn’t get the chance to listen much else before the door aggressively swings back and a young woman steps out, fumbling with her moss green apron and walking furiously - as if imagining whoever is behind those doors pressed under the soles of her shoes.

Rowan feels his breath catch as he takes her in – her lithe form and her assertive walk, messy hair flying behind her with every step she takes as she mutters something under her breath. She’s too distracted to even notice him, but Rowan is fine with just watching her. Right as she is about to take her apron off, her head snaps in Rowan’s direction, her hands falling to her sides as she stops dead in her tracks. Her cheeks gain a pink tint, and she straightens. She stares at him for a few seconds, no words being exchanged between them. It’s like the entire universe shifts and they’re the only two people in the world to stand still in time. Rowan smiles softly at her, unable to talk for whatever reason, and that makes her snap out of her trance. She looks back to the door she just left from and clears her throat, stepping forward and sending him a soft smile. Her turquoise eyes can’t seem to decide if they should focus on the door behind her back or on Rowan.

She fixes her hair as she looks back once more, her apron swinging with her body’s movement. Never has something with the name Chaol’s Beans on it seem more appealing. Her gaze finds Rowan once again and she shakily grabs a pen and a paper cup. “Hi.” She smiles, the pink in her cheeks darkening. Rowan likes that. He likes that a lot. “Welcome to Chaol’s Beans, what can I get you?”

His heart catches in his throat and suddenly there are no words in the English language that could make him seem like the capable human being he sometimes is. The woman chuckles nervously, one eyebrow rising, and Rowan feels his cheeks warm. Hellas, it’s like he’s 17 all over again.

He’s aware a question was asked – and if only he hadn’t forgotten every single word in the English language, he would be more than pleased to answer her. To talk with her. To hear her sweet melodic voice, a bit of raspiness coming through, probably thanks to the screaming match going on a few seconds earlier.

Rowan Whitethorn has never been one of believing in fate. He never considered himself to be religious, nor is he superstitious. The closest he’s ever been to believing in an ulterior force was that one time he spilled beer on the counter and the amber puddle ended up looking exactly like his friend Lorcan - he still has that picture saved on his phone.

He wouldn’t go as far as to call himself a skeptic – he does like to believe that there is some order to the universe. But he’s never believed in things like destiny.

At least, he didn’t until now.

He tries to shake himself from his stupor, looking quickly up to the menu board and then back to the woman again, not really having the time to read it. He knows he didn’t read shit and by the amused look on her face, she knows it too. Her lips quirk up.

“I trust you as long as you bring me something with hazelnut.”

The woman looks up at him with smiling eyes. “Hazelnut?”

She’s not small in any sense of the word, but at 6’4 Rowan makes most people look up. Only Lorcan manages to escape that fate, much to Rowan’s chagrin.

He looks up to the menu board once again, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Do they not serve hazelnut flavoured drinks here? He’s not sure he minds, the stunning creature in front of him could serve him a glass of tap water and he’d be over the moon. “Hazelnut latte? Hazelnut Cappuccino?”

“Oh. Right!” She chuckles nervously, turning around to look up at the menu board. “Hazelnut latte, of course.” She writes down something on the paper cup that seems way too long to be a coffee order. Rowan watches her with avid interest. “A-and your name?” She stutters a bit and it’s all Rowan can do not to smile in victory. Something like male pride warming his chest at the thought of making her flustered.

“Rowan.” He leans against the counter, probably looking cockier than intended. The woman follows the movement, amusement playing in her eyes. “Rowan Whitethorn.”

“Well, Rowan Whitethorn,” Rowan has to fight the shiver that threatens to run through his body at the way his name sounds coming from her lips. “I’m going to make you the best hazelnut latte you’ve ever had in your entire life.” She announces with a mischievous smile, turning around before Rowan even has the chance to pay.

He follows her with his eyes, watching as she stumbles around behind the counter preparing his drink. She curses under her breath a few times, occasionally looking up at Rowan with a flush in her cheeks. Rowan recons he’ll remember that look for the rest of his life.

She looks like she’s not entirely sure what she’s doing and Rowan wonders if it’s her first week at the job. She reads every label of every dispenser and spills milk all over the counter, hiding an embarrassed look behind a curtain of golden hair. She appears to to do some latte art, but when she finally clears her throat and gives him his cup, all Rowan sees is lines of white with no apparent meaning. The words For the Hazelnut addict are scribbled on the cup alongside a…bird? He looks up at her with a questioning look. She blushes under his gaze and clasps her hands behind her back.

“It’s supposed to be a bird.” She explains quickly. “Because of your tattoo…” She points to her neck. “Well, you know.” He does know. That tattoo is a favourite of Miss Aurelia. There isn’t a day where he doesn’t hear about the fall of proper culture and how people now enjoy “painting” pigeons on their own skin. It’s actually a white-tailed hawk, something he’s tried to explain several times to no avail.

“And the latte art?” He asks, examining it further. It’s still just white lines that make absolutely no sense, but he wills his face to remain neutral. She chuckles nervously, muttering something under her breath. When she looks up her eyes find his and everything inside him goes still.

“It’s supposed to be flames.” She shrugs. “Or a fire, I guess.”

Rowan smirks as he looks down at his cup. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her it looks nothing like a flame, mainly when her choice of drawing resonates with him. Everything about this woman is fire: warmth, strength, boldness. “Fireheart.” He says softly.

Her eyes snap up to his, a confused look on her face. “Sorry?” Her voice is meek.

He clears his throat. “Your name.” He tries instead, nodding to her apron. “There’s no name tag.”

She looks down at her clothes, about to open her mouth just as the back door opens once again, this time with half the strength used by his fireheart. The colour drains from her face and she refuses to look back, her eyes comically wide as she stares at Rowan and Rowan alone.

“Aelin?” A deep voice calls out. Aelin. Something inside his body settles at that name.

“Fuck.” She mutters, and Rowan looks at her with a confused look on his face. Aelin sends him an apologetic look in return. “I thought you’d left already.” Rowan looks at the man speaking, a tall man with chestnut hair and dark eyes looks confusedly at Aelin. He looks at Rowan and sends him a greeting smile. “I’ll be right with you.” He says, pressing his hand on Aelin’s shoulder. He’s about to speak to her again when his eyes zero on the cup in Rowan’s hand. “Excuse me sir, who served you that?”

Rowan furrows his brows, looking between the newcomer and Aelin. Did he hallucinate her? No, that wouldn’t make sense, right? The dude has his hand on her shoulder. He called her Aelin. Right?

“Hm-”

“I did.” Aelin mutters and the man goes still.

“Why the fu-“ The man stops and closes his eyes as he takes too many deep breaths in not enough seconds. “Are you insane?” His voice drops to a whisper – Rowan is not sure why since he’s right there and he can listen to everything. “Are you trying to get Chaol’s Beans shut down?”

Would that make this man Chaol? He’s not sure he’s ready for that interaction.

“It’s not like you wouldn’t deserve it.” Aelin crosses her arms as she whisper-shouts back. She looks back at Rowan, as if fearing he’d left already. It’s not like he could leave her behind without a goodbye. Not now. Probably not ever.

“I told you I didn’t eat your sour patch kids, I don’t know what else you want to me say. And even if I did, could you please try and not poison my clients?”

He's Chaol, then.

“I’m not poisoning Rowan!” She yells, louder than intended by the way she flinches.

“Wait,” He interrupts, trying to catch up. Chaol looks up at Rowan with an apologetic smile on his face and Aelin looks like she wants to hide under the counter. He’s not sure what’s happening, but it’s positively hilarious. “You don’t work here?” He asks Aelin. She smiles sheepishly, shaking her head no. He nods, frowning as he tries to wrap his head around the weirdest morning he’s had in years as he takes a sip from his coffee. It’s all he can do not to spit it out and beg for mercy as the bitter taste overwhelms his taste buds. He's not sure how anyone could make such a bitter drink with so much sweetness at their disposal, but he swallows anyway and smiles at Aelin who starts to laugh, unable to stop.

“Sir, let me make you a new drink.” Chaol sends Aelin a murderous look, but she doesn’t even notice as she tries to catch her breath. “On the house.”

Rowan refrains from telling him he didn't pay for this one either.

“That’s not necessary.” He says, taking another sip. If he stops breathing for a few seconds, it doesn’t even taste that bad. “It’s actually quite good.” He shrugs, willing his face to remain neutral.

Aelin looks up at him with a beaming smile. “You really don’t have to drink it.”

Rowan shrugs sheepishly, “I want to.” And smiles at her. Chaol mutters something under his breath and storms off – but not before screaming at Aelin to get out of his café. Aelin bites her lip as she takes off her apron and makes her way around the counter, a questioning look on her face. Rowan smirks as he walks past her, opening the door for her to leave and follows right behind.

They start walking in comfortable silence, both glancing at each other like they’re on their first date in middle school. It ought to feel ridiculous, but he can’t bring himself to care. About anything, really.

Rowan is fine – he’s fine with being late for the first time in his life; he’s fine with drinking what’s probably the worst thing he’s ever tasted in his life; and he’s fine with becoming a regular customer at Chaol’s Beans. There’s no reason not to be fine when Aelin walks next to him with a gorgeous smile on her rosy lips.

“I’m sorry.” She chuckles nervously, breaking the silence. “I don’t know why I did that, it’s not like I ever even worked as a Barista. But…” She sighs, looking at him and back to the sidewalk again. “Something-”

“I know.” Rowan interrupts her, his hand finding the small of her back as they walk side by side. He feels her tense for a second before she relaxes into him – nothing has ever felt more right in his entire life.

“You really don’t have to drink that. It probably tastes like crap. I’m pretty sure I added some cleaning product at some point. I was a little distracted.”

By the taste of it, Rowan wouldn’t be surprised. But he shrugs. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Really?” She smirks. “I think we need to work on that, Rowan Whitethorn.”

And how could he say not to that? Especially when she steps a bit closer and her sweet smoky scent reaches his nose. When she laughs as he finally gives in and grimaces at a gulp of latte that definitely has some salt in it.

Rowan isn’t sure where they’re heading as they slowly walk down the sidewalk. His job has been long forgotten and he isn’t sure where Aelin is supposed to go next. But somethings just happen before people realize why they’re happening and there’s really no questioning their silent agreement that they must keep walking side by side until they find a way to do something else. There’s a lot to find out, a lot to learn, but Rowan isn’t in a hurry. From the looks of it, neither is Aelin. It’s almost like they have all the time in the world.

And maybe they do.

Fallin', yes, I am fallin' And she keeps callin' Me back again

#rowaelin month #rowaelin month 2022 #rowaelin au #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #throne of glass #tog fic #aelin fic #throne of glass fic #rowaelin #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #coffeeshop au

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rowaelinscourt · 2 years

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Rowaelin Month 2022 Day 1 Masterlist

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I Believe In Us - @myfavoriteinvestment

My Sweet Little Fireheart - @thegreyj

Annie - @writtenonreceipts

As We Watch Planes Take Off - @llyncooljones

Let's Get Married - @tomtenadia

Dandelions - @leiawritesstories

Twist of Fate - @live-the-fangirl-life

But Who Could Stay? - @morganofthewildfire

Golden Tattoo pt 1 - @backtobl4ck

Exile - @punkassbookjockey26

Heaven Is A Place On Earth With You - @rowanaelinn

I've Just Seen A Face - @slytherhys

Dancing With Our Hands Tied - @hherongraystairs

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin month 2022 #rowaelinscourt #throne of glass #if you don't see your fic here let us know!

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golden-kingdom · 1 year

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

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

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

Inspired by Falling for Christmas (2022)

Word Count: 19k

Rating: Explicit for language, alcohol and smut

Read it on AO3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

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

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live-the-fangirl-life · 2 years

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Study Specs

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

Aelin may have finally found her weakness, not that she’d admit to having one in the first place. She was not prepared for what seeing Rowan in a pair of glasses would do to her.

Written for Rowaelin Month 2022 Day 6: College/University AU

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Rowaelin Month

Warnings:

1185 words

*******

The quiet chatter filling the library’s lower floor was muffled by the closed door at the end of the study room. Time blurred, with only the clock perched above the whiteboard proving any had passed at all, but even the soft tick tick tick of each discarded minute went unnoticed by Aelin.

“Based on that, the answer would be…?

Rowan’s voice pulled her attention back to the present, and only then did she realize he was waiting for an answer. He eyed her expectantly, his silence urging her to finish the sentence.

“Uh, hmm?” She so eloquently replied, fighting back a wince. “What was that? Could you say it again?”

Rowan’s brows furrowed as he shot her a strange look but did as she asked and repeated his question.

The two of them had been going over material for the next exam for nearly an hour, and Aelin could count on one hand the number of things she’d retained. She could tell that his patience was waning having to repeat himself again, but he was in absolutely no position to judge her inattentiveness, not when it was entirely his doing.

And Rowan – well, Rowan was acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He had the audacity to act like everything was normal.

Everything was not normal.

It was so far from normal; so distractingly, ridiculously, astronomically far from normal. She was not being overdramatic.

Aelin felt like her brain was short-circuiting, so she couldn’t exactly be blamed for her lapse in logical judgment.

“So, you see, the equation comes to – are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?” Aelin blinked, pulling the end of her pen out of her mouth; she hadn’t even noticed she’d been chewing on it. Willing herself to regain some speck of composure, she shot him a sheepish grin. No, she absolutely was not listening. “Sorry.”

No one in their right mind would expect her to be paying attention, let alone trying to comprehend some inane theory of physics. Not when Rowan was sitting across from her wearing those…those things. Those Gods. Damned. Glasses.

The just-slightly oversized, wire-framed glasses that would forever be seared into her brain, haunting her dreams and invading her fantasies. They shouldn’t look that good. He, physically, shouldn’t be able to be that attractive.

But it wasn’t just the glasses. She could’ve handled just the glasses. Probably. Maybe.

It was the glasses along with everything else about him that made her TA too distracting for his own good.

It was the casual button-up he wore with the top two undone so that his undershirt peaked through. It was the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow putting his tanned forearms obscenely on display. It was the intricate black ink that coursed up one arm and disappeared beneath his cuff.

It was the pages of notes he had laid on the table between them, all scrawled in his swift, legible handwriting; each page efficiently organized, color-coded, and sorted accordingly. It was the way that each time he uncapped and swiped one of his highlighters across the page, the muscles in his arm flexed and greedily stole her attention away from the words he’d been focused on.

It was the way he awarded her an approving nod whenever she understood a point he made, and the flashes of straight, white teeth she received when she answered a problem correctly. It was the rare chuckle he would loose and even rarer full-body laugh that pulled a wide grin across his face whenever she managed to steer the conversation away from the studying at hand.

All of that she could handle – had handled.

But today he had the nerve to decimate her fraying self-control when he strolled into their designated study room wearing that pair of thin-rimmed glasses that managed to accentuate the green of his eyes and perfectly frame his face.

She was going to fail this class.

And it would all be his fault. All his handsome, distracting, stupid fault.

The nonexistent tick tick tick continued to filter through the room, and she had no idea where the rest of their conversation, or the time, went.

“Good work today,” Rowan told her as he began packing up his things. “I think you’ll do just fine on the next exam.”

Aelin blinked and shook herself. Was that their time already? She felt a pang of disappointment but covered it up with a faint grin.

“Thanks, Whitethorn.” She stood from the table and chuckled, adding, “I’ll write you a twenty-page literary analysis in a flash, but shove a couple of physics theorems in front of me, and it's all a mess. Without you, I probably would’ve had to retake this class.”

Might, still, if those glasses had any say in the matter.

Aelin paused at the door, leaning her back against the frame as Rowan finished packing his bag and stepped closer. Neither of them said anything for a long moment and Aelin almost thought she imagined the look that flashed across his face if the air between hadn’t been so thick with tension she could’ve cut it with a knife. She continued to hold his gaze as he took a single step closer, arching her brow as she waited for him to say something. When he finally did, it wasn’t what she was expecting.

“Would’ve been a shame having to retake it.” His eyes searched her face, and she might have missed the way his gaze dropped to her lips if she’d have blinked. “Would’ve given me a reason to keep tutoring you, though.”

Momentarily stunned by his closeness, Aelin inhaled sharply. That was the most forward he’d been all semester, their lingering glances and not-so-accidental touches, aside. Then, without giving him time to second guess his words, she smiled.

“You know, I think I understand it,” she held his gaze, “but one more session wouldn’t hurt. Why should I settle for ‘just fine’ when I could ace that thing?”

It was his turn to smirk. “If you want to ace it, we might need to schedule a few more sessions.”

She hummed and narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips to hold in a sly grin. She was taking a chance here and hoping her next words wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass. “I’ll let that insult slide,” he huffed a laugh, “if you promise to leave the glasses behind. They’re interfering with my learning.”

Rowan's smirk widened as he cocked his head to the side and arched a brow. “Why would I do that if wearing them earns me more time with you?”

She couldn’t help the way her lips curled into a smirk to match his.

A week later, as Aelin sauntered into the exam hall, she had to hide her grin when she was met with Rowan’s slack jaw. She tapped the large, black-rimmed glasses balanced on her nose nonchalantly and flashed him a wink.

She scored an A on the exam.

And as soon as the semester ended and Rowan wasn’t her TA any longer, she scored a date, too.

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @rowaelinrambling @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @elentiyawhitethorn @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites @maastrash @annejulianneh111 @the-lonelybarricade

#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #aelin #Rowan #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #aelin and rowan #rowan and aelin #rowaelin fic #aelin galathynius x rowan whitethorn #rowaelin au #rowaelin oneshot #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelinmonth2022 #throne of glass #tog

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morganofthewildfire · 2 years

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Majoring in Hate, Minoring in Love - part 7

Rowaelin Month Day 5/6

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well, it has been long enough, but here is the next and last chapter!

cw: mentions of sexual assault

masterlist

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Despite her declaration, a bit of an awkward silence fell over the room as they stared at each other, neither of them making a move to do anything. But eventually, she opened her mouth again, her hands wrapped in the fabric of Rowan’s t-shirt as she started spilling everything on her tired mind.

Or really- one thing.

“Were you telling the truth?” She asked weakly, her voice a tired croak. She just… needed to know. “Or was it an excuse?”

Rowan leaned forward, as if he wanted to reach for her but didn’t. “I’m sorry, Aelin,” he breathed, and her heart froze for a second, before he continued. “It was my fault, it was my mistake.”

“But?” She asked, hoping for something more. Otherwise she didn’t think she’d be able to survive the day. Not with everything that had happened.

“I didn’t spread your picture,” he said, and his voice was so pained she had no choice but to believe him. “I didn’t even see it. And I swear to all the gods, if I had, I never would’ve let Remelle even go near my phone.”

She nodded once slowly, looking off to the side. “Is that what happened?” She asked, not sure if she really wanted to know.

Her… whatever sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I was at the library, you know, and she showed up, spewing shit about how she misses me.”

Aelin frowned, but moved carefully to sit on the couch with him, curled up in a ball a good distance away.

“She saw that I was texting you, and she must’ve picked up on the conversation because she asked if she could borrow my phone,” he continued, and she narrowed her eyes. “She pretended to be apologetic and acted like she was moving on and needed to call her friend to pick her up.” He sighed again, shaking his head. “I wasn’t thinking, no matter how badly that relationship went I didn’t want her walking home alone.”

Of course not, he was nothing if not a gentleman. And that bitch had used it against him.

“I’m assuming that bad timing struck and you sent the picture while she had my phone,” he continued dismally. “And then she sent it to herself and deleted it all. And then…” he trailed off.

She knew the rest.

Aelin frowned, the information swirling around in her head. Did she believe him? Or did she believe that this was a clever lie? Remelle was a realistic scapegoat, but it was also realistic that she’d do this. No matter how long it’d been, she still hated Aelin.

Rowan didn’t speak, letting her process everything, and there was once again only silence in his apartment as he waited for her to pass her judgment.

But, what came out of her mouth wasn’t what either of them were expecting.

“How bad was it,” she asked, “dating her?”

Rowan blinked, surprised at the question. And then his silvery brows furrowed, as if he’d never even thought about the answer before.

“Well, um…” he said, leaning back against the back of the couch. “I think the problem was I never wanted to date her.”

“No?” Aelin asked, and he shook his head.

“I always wanted to date -“ he stopped himself, cheeks flaming, and she waited for him to continue but he didn’t.

“Well you were together a long time for someone who never wanted the relationship to happen in the first place,” she pried, narrowing her eyes. He just sighed heavily.

“I kept trying to leave,” he said, “to break it off gently, but she wouldn’t let me.” He shook his head. “I would tell her, and then she would keep harassing me until the only thing that would solve it was going on another date, which I always paid for, even though I’m only able to be here on a fucking scholarship.” He rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t even know how to explain it, but after a while I didn’t think there was any way to leave. I thought I was going to be stuck with her and her temper forever.”

He seemed to be feeling some sort of relief getting this all off of his chest, but Aelin was absolutely horrified.

“Rowan…” she said, fighting the urge to reach for him, “that’s not okay. None of that is okay. Gods.” She shook her head, frowning. “I know she was bad but I never knew…” she looked up at him, “that’s borderline abusive, Rowan.”

Aelin watched him as he processed her words, his face twisted in contemplation. She didn’t blame him, that was a loaded thing to be forced to realize. But he didn’t say anything and silence fell. She dragged a finger idly over the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing, his t-shirt, and realized that maybe he deserved to finally hear her side of the story.

“Did you ever wonder where I come from?” she said, not looking at him.

“Sometimes,” he answered honestly, and she nodded idly.

“My parents died when I was very young,” Aelin explained, frowning a bit. “I bounced around from different foster homes for a while, until I ended up in one when I was eight that lasted until I was eighteen.” She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. “It - wasn’t the best environment.”

“What do you mean?” Rowan asked, and she could hear the cautious dread in her voice. She huffed a humorless laugh, looking down at the t-shirt.

“I mean,” she said, “I got used to covering up bruises.” It was only then she looked up, meeting his devastated gaze. “I didn’t leave the house much, which is why I relished the freedom I found in college.” She shook her head, a tired, sardonic smile on her face. “You were my first boyfriend ever, and you weren’t even a boyfriend. Even if I -” love you, she didn’t need to say. They both remembered her admission.

“Aelin,” Rowan said, his voice calm and solid, and she looked at him. They stared at each other, her heart pounding as he began to say, “I lo-”

His phone rang, loudly disrupting the moment. Aelin blinked, and Rowan stopped what he was saying to look at who was calling, his brows unfurrowing as he answered it.

“Lorcan?” He said, sitting up straight. “Do you have the results?” A brief pause, and then Rowan nodded. “So it was spiked. Okay, I’ll talk to her now.”

Aelin’s gut sank at the reminder of what happened. And her face was flat as he hung up and looked over at her.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, shifting to face her more. “About everything?”

“About my abusive foster father or the fact that I was almost raped last night?” She asked, sounding clearly drained. She just wanted to go back to bed. Rowan’s hand rested on hers in a show of support, clearly unconsciously with the way he started to pull it back when he realized. But Aelin grabbed it, and held his hand in hers, relishing in the comfort.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” she said quietly, with a small smile. He just nodded.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll always be there for you, and I will always regret the times I wasn’t.” It was clear what he was referencing: the photograph.

Aelin sniffed, breaking their stare. “I think I’m going to have a little chat with Remelle,” she said, uncurling herself from the couch. “I have a lot to talk to her about.”

“Wait,” Rowan said, sticking out a hand. “Before that,” he sighed, looking a little nervous. “How would you feel about going down to the hospital to get tested - for the drug.” Ah. “We have the results from the vodka bottle, and if you get tested too there’s a much higher chance of us being able to make an actual case against him.”

Aelin loosed a breath, nodding. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do fingerprints stay on clothes? We have my dress from last night, which would tie him in directly.”

“It’s worth a shot,” he said, standing up too. Which made her realize that he was fully dressed, and she decidedly was not.

“Let me freshen up at my apartment real quick, okay?” She said, heading toward the door. “And then we’ll go.”

------

It came back positive. Aelin knew it would, but it was still disconcerting to see the word typed out on a piece of paper. It was fact then, it couldn’t be ignored.

But with Rowan by her side, they’d dropped off that and her dress from the night before at the police station, and officially accused Cairn of attempted assault. And then they’d parted ways, a bit awkwardly, as she pressed a small and quick kiss to his cheek without really thinking.

He’d been flustered, and so had she, and he’d left quickly, leaving her to go find Remelle.

It was pretty easy; Remelle was fairly predictable, and she ended up outside of her favorite coffee shop, watching as Remelle giggled with her friends inside.

Aelin lifted her chin as she walked inside, ignoring the stares she still got as she walked right up to Remelle. It took a second for the girl to notice her, but Aelin caught the exact moment she did, slight panic racing across her face though she hid it quickly.

“Aelin,” Remelle said haughtily, straightening. “What do you want?”

Aelin smiled coldly, tilting her head. “Let’s have a talk, alright? Girl to girl.”

Remelle rolled her eyes but took her coffee and her lying ass over to a table by the window, sitting down casually. Her gaggle of friends went over to another table on the other side of the cafe, immediately beginning to probably gossip and such, but Aelin sat down across from Remelle.

“Do you know why I’m here?” Aelin asked, resting her hands casually on the table. Remelle just snorted.

“I’m surprised you’re showing your face in public,” she said, smiling hatefully. Aelin just narrowed her eyes.

“I was almost raped last night,” she said, keeping her voice flat. And it got the reaction she was expecting, Remelle’s face slackening in shock. “And while the blame completely lies with Cairn, he cites my photograph as the reason why he felt the need to do it. And -” she leaned forward onto the table, “we both know where that photograph came from.”

She paused for effect before leaning back again, relaxing in her seat. “As a woman, I’ve grown up under the impression that we’re meant to help other women. Especially in a world like this, where there are men who do whatever they can to take advantage of you. And yet -” she tilted her head, “everything I’ve ever learned about you seems to me that you have a different impression.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to-”

“Stop the shit, Remelle,” Aelin said, hitting a hand on the table. “You know, if I report you to the dean, I can get you expelled for sexual harassment just like that.” She snapped for emphasis. “And if I’m really persistent, I can go for a criminal charge.”

The other girl’s eyes were wide, like she hadn't even considered the idea of consequences.

“And you know what?” Aelin continued, “I don’t care anymore for myself, but I will press charges if you do not leave Rowan Whitethorn alone. Do you hear me?” She nearly spit the words. “And if I get word that you ever treat anyone else the way you treated him, then I will not hesitate to bring a world of trouble down on your shoulders.”

Remelle looked shell shocked.

“Do you understand?” Aelin pressed, not letting up until the other girl nodded quickly. “Good,” she said, finally relaxing. And after a moment of silence she stood up, tucking the chair primly under the table. “Enjoy your coffee,” she said, with a fake smile and wave.

And then she turned and left, holding up a rude gesture to a guy who catcalled her as she pushed open the door. She was trying really hard not to care, even if she was still embarrassed.

And yet, the picture was out there, so what. It could be much worse; at least she was wearing something.

And, in all honesty, it would disappear from everyone’s minds in a few weeks. She would just have to hold out until then.

But if she was being truthful, the situation didn’t seem nearly as insurmountable as it had just the day before, because of one simple factor. Rowan. It wasn’t his fault, and that meant the world to her.

He was still someone she could trust. And gods did she want to.

She just needed to tell him that she was ready to love him. And see if maybe, just maybe, he could love her back.

——

Rowan was idly watching a football game on the TV, watching their college’s team score a touchdown against the Rifthold Ravens, when someone knocked on the door lightly.

Lorcan was out, so he knew whoever it was was for him, so he stood up and walked to the door, smiling a little bit when he found Aelin on the other side.

“Hey,” he said, opening the door more to let her in. “How’d it go with Remelle?”

She smiled sardonically, “I don’t think she’s going to be a problem anymore. She learned the concept of consequences.”

“Oh?” He asked, not sure entirely what that meant, but she didn’t offer any more clarification, just sitting down primly on his couch and turning her attention to the football game.

“Next week is a home game, right?” Aelin asked, and Rowan blinked as he walked over to the couch to sit with her.

“Yeah, I think so,” he answered. “Are you going to go?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t have a ticket, though I’d like to go to at least one while I’m in college,” she said, huffing a laugh. “We’ll see if it ever happens.” They stayed quiet, watching as Doranelle caught an interception, running the ball all the way back to score another touchdown. The roar from the students there was audible through the TV.

“Let’s go,” he said, looking over at her. “I’ll get you a ticket.”

“What?” She asked, turning to look at him a bit bewildered.

“Come on,” he said, smiling a bit. “It’ll be fun.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling back. “Yeah, let’s go.” But then she frowned. “As long as I don’t get heckled the minute I step into the stadium. I’m not going to subject you to that.”

Rowan didn’t like how dejected she looked, though she tried to hide it. He had a feeling she was going to continue to try and hide how affected she was by what happened, but he didn’t want her to feel like she needed to around him.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. She hesitated and he nearly pulled away, but then she leaned into him, so he stayed. “I don’t care what all of those idiots say to me, I don’t want you to worry about me. What matters is if you feel comfortable going. Because if not, then we can stay in and watch it here. But whatever you want to do, I’m by your side.”

She blinked a few times, trying to fight the glistening in her eyes, before closing them entirely. “Thank you,” she said softly, lifting her hand to cover his. They stayed quiet for a moment, just resting in the other’s presence. And he’d be content to stay like that, but - he needed to tell her.

“Aelin?” He asked, his voice a little shaky. She opened her eyes, looking at him in question. His heart was racing, and he felt nervous about what he was going to say. But when he met her eyes, those turquoise eyes that had enthralled him since the first day they met. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” he said, and she pulled away slightly, narrowing her eyes. “Wait,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s not what I mean.” He huffed.

“What do you mean?” Aelin asked, looking at him warily. “Because if there’s something else you’re keeping from me, I -”

“I love you,” he blurted out, her eyes going wide. “I’ve loved you since freshman year,” he admitted. “You enthralled me the first day we met, and I trailed after you like a puppy dog hoping for your scraps. I never wanted to date Remelle, I wanted to date you.”

“Rowan…”

“I insulted you and played pranks on you like a child, because it was the only way I could think of to get your attention.” He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “And then when we were together, but not the way I wanted, I took what I could get because it was better than nothing. I couldn’t stand the idea of losing what little of you I had.” He took in a shaky breath. “But it’s time for me to admit it in full. I, Rowan Whitethorn, love you, Aelin Galathynius, and I’m never going to be able to stop.”

His voice fell away, pushing silence back up, and his heart pounded as he waited for her reply. She’d already said she loved him, but what if that’d changed? What if she wasn’t ready? He would die if she rejected him now, though he wouldn’t fight her if that’s what she wanted. He just wanted her to be happy.

But - she smiled a watery smile, leaning to rest her forehead against his.

“Rowan?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah?” He breathed back.

“I love you too,” she whispered, and his heart soared.

“You do?” Rowan asked, and she nodded, smiling at him.

“Yep,” she said, “so you’re not getting rid of me now.” He huffed a laugh, resting his hand back on her cheek.

“Sounds perfect,” he said, “you’re not getting rid of me either.”

“I think I’ll take that deal,” Aelin said, and when she leaned in and kissed him, it was like fireworks exploded in the room. They’d kissed hundreds of times, but none as special as this.

She loved him, and he loved her. And they could both finally say it. He’d waited years for this moment, and now, it was finally here.

----

taglist:

@shyvioletcat

@courtofjurdan

@leiawritesstories

@elentiyawhitethorn

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@mariamuses

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@poisonous00

#rowaelin #rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass au #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin month 2022

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thegreyj · 2 years

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My sweet little fireheart

Rowaelin month day one : Songfic @rowaelinscourt Based on the song My Little Girl by Tim McGraw

CW: some fluff, major tissue warning, loss/grief, a little angst that is not really angst?

Enjoy!

My sweet little fireheart

“I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride,” the woman officiating the wedding said with a broad smile on her face. Rowan looked at Aelin with deep devotion, then his eye twinkled with mirth. He pulled her closer and slowly dipped her as his lips bestowed upon hers. Everyone around them laughed at their antics. Aelin giggled too, still attached to her husband’s lips. Then a very unusual laugh came out of Rowan, who almost never showed his glee when around people. I suppose love brings out different sides of people. Then again, Aelin had always seen this side of Rowan – it was just everyone else who thought he was a grumpy, silent man.

“Okay, okay, we get it, you’re in love. Now break it up and let’s go party!” Of course you could count on Fenrys being the one with unusually awful timing and a tendency to bring the attention to a party. Rowan and Aelin had decided to have their wedding ceremony at a beautiful outdoor area near the Galathynius mansion, and the party following their ceremony inside the mansion.

After Fenrys’ exclamation, wedding guests along with the bride and groom migrated towards the feast for speeches and dancing. And food, you could never forget food when Aelin was around.

Everything inside and around the mansion was decorated in fall colours, with splashes of gold bringing a level of fancy to the event. Kingsflames were spread around everywhere including Aelin’s bouquet as well as Rowan’s lapel. This was a Galathynius wedding, and some of the specifically selected pictures would be in the media the following day. Aelin was the heiress to the Galathynius fortune, and as such her private life was rarely private. But her now-husband Rowan had always been a private man, who just happened to fall for the one woman who would bring attention to him. As long as he could be with Aelin, he didn’t mind the paparazzi following him, or the random articles online going into detail on how he had managed to get such perfect muscles.

“Are you happy?” Aelin brought his attention to her. Rowan frowned for a moment before kissing his wife on the forehead.

“Oh, fireheart. I could not possibly be any happier. You make me happy. And I’m so, so happy you are now my wife,” he said with such genuine emotion, it brought Aelin to tears.

“No! No tears before the speeches!” Evalin Galathynius screeched from the other side of the room. How she even saw that happening from so far away was a mystery to all.

“Well, mom. Maybe we should get to the speeches then? But food first. I’m starving,” Aelin stated making those who heard her laugh. You could always be sure Aelin Galathynius – sorry, Galathynius-Whitethorn – would prioritise food over all else. Except maybe her husband. But just maybe.

After everyone had gotten their drinks and food in front of them, and began digging in, it was time for the fun yet often emotional part. The speeches. Maybe some weddings food would be served after the fun, but this was Aelin’s wedding, so food would be a part of the fun.

Lorcan, as Rowan’s bestman, gave a short heartfelt speech that for once did not insult Aelin. He did mention at the end that this would be the only time she got a reprieve from his negative comments. Rowan’s eyes glistened with tears, but none fell. Many people chuckled at Lorcan’s comment at the end. His inventive nicknames for Aelin were legendary, so people found him hilarious – even if he didn’t try to be.

Lysandra was Aelin’s maid of honor, and her speech was something very much only she would be able to come up with. Many, many innuendos were heard, a few jokes and some dirty stories about Aelin and Rowan getting it on in random places and being caught. Some of the elder guest were horrified, when Aelin and her friends cackled at the speech. Even Rowan laughed with no restraint.

Then Rowan’s father, Evan, gave his speech. He spoke how Rowan had a bright future ahead with Aelin and hoped for many, many grandbabies. He cracked a few jokes, making everyone wonder how Rowan was so different from him when it came to personalities.

The last speech was to be given by Evalin.

Or so the married couple thought, along with most of the guests.

“Hello everyone. As the mother of the bride, I was asked to give a speech at this wedding. And while I could speak directly from my heart and tell you all about Aelin’s first steps and her first kiss, and the moment when she finally had the guts to tell us about Rowan… I think this speech should be given by someone else. Aedion, if you may?” Evalin gestured to Aedion.

Everyone expected Aedion to take the microphone, but he moved to a laptop hidden in the corner, where a slideshow of Aelin and Rowan was projected onto the wall. He clicked a few buttons and suddenly a video began playing.

Aelin let out a sob when she saw her father’s smiling, teary face.

Then he started to speak.

“My sweet little fireheart. Oh, how much I wish I could be there on your special day. But you know, sometimes life works in funny ways, and I can’t physically be there. Just know I am watching over you always.

I remember when you were born. You were just this tiny little pink bundle, always needing attention and love. And you were mine to take care of. My precious little baby angel. You had me wrapped around your finger from the first time I laid eyes on you.

When you were young, you used to get into trouble a lot – such a mischievous, clever little girl. I tried to be stern, but you would just look straight into my soul with that smile of yours and my heart just melted. I never could be mad at you. Even when you broke the window to my study. And the television twice. And accidentally crashed my car. And dropped the antique vase on the floor. Every single one of those moments I’ve cherished in my heart, because you were such an adventurous girl and you always, always admitted when you did something wrong.

Some of my favorite memories, however, were of me tucking you in at night. I’d tell you I love you, give you a goodnight kiss, then hear you say you loved me more. But no one can ever love you more than I do, my sweet fireheart.

Not even Rowan, and he’s the half that makes you whole. I always thought I’d say no to anyone who asked for your hand in marriage, because no one was worthy enough to get you. But Rowan is the only one for you and anyone could see that. He has a clever mind, just like you, and his heart is that of a man who will love you enough for both him and me.

You’re so beautiful, fireheart. Inside and out. And I just know that on this special day you will be radiant, so beautiful no one ever will compare.

As you and Rowan build your life together, don’t be afraid to chase your dreams. Follow them to the ends of the world.

So, go on. Take on the world. Keep dreaming big like you always have. Reach for the stars.

Just remember; no matter where you end up going and who you end up being…

To me, you will always be my little girl. I love you, fireheart.”

Rhoe Galathynius had recorded that video almost a year prior to the wedding. He had always imagined himself walking Aelin down the aisle and giving a wonderful speech at her wedding. Because life had first taken his health, Rhoe had wanted to make sure that even if he couldn’t walk his precious daughter down the aisle, he would give the speech she deserved.

Aelin was sobbing into her husband’s neck, holding onto him for dear life. She had not expected to see or hear from her dad ever again, so this beautiful video message was the best wedding present she could have. It hurt so much, but at the same time she felt a little closure as well. Aelin had lost her father so suddenly and hadn’t been able to say goodbye properly. Aelin felt a warm breeze around her as her sobs began to subside.

“I love you too, Daddy.”

Tags:

#rowaelin #rowaelin month #rowaelinscourt #rowaelin month 2022 #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #fluff #and a little bit of angst #songfic #throne of glass #tog fic #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelinmonth

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llyncooljones · 2 years

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peace in the noise - rowaelin month day fourteen.

ao3 || masterlist || rowaelin month ‘22 masterlist

prompt: CANON WEEK: what if... nothing bad ever happened, and they met organically. pain-free, just vibes set in the 'canon' universe.

word count: 1229

trigger warnings: language, alcohol.

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

a bar in varese, the evening.

Aelin was turning thirty.

Three, zero.

It was pretty fucking insignificant, people she knew were turning nine-hundred and thirty this year. But, having been brought with the knowledge that she might not settle, that she might not live past eighty-five, had made her more appreciative of her years.

So, whilst to most fae she knew or had ever known in the past, turning thirty would be insignificant, to her it felt important, to her it felt weighted—heavier than twenty-nine had been.

And she felt a little bit crazy for it, especially given the fact that she had settled, and she was going to live to see eighty-five (if the battlefield allowed for that to happen).

She should have been home, tucked up on a sofa with her parents, her friends, and her cousins. She should have been in the castle, enjoying the oversized chocolate hazelnut cake her parents had made for her. She should have been married, she should have had children, and she should have been more like her mother. She should have been a lot of things. But she wasn’t.

She wasn’t, and that was the crux of it all.

It was why, two weeks ago she had left a note saying she would be on holiday for the foreseeable future, and that should anyone need to contact her, she would be arriving in Varese, two weeks from that date (today), and that they could talk to her then.

And now, she was regaining her land legs, having spent the last fourteen days on a boat. She had a bag with not much in it, but that had been dumped in the tiny room she was renting, and now she was sweating herself silly walking through the streets.

Varese was so much hotter than Orynth had ever been, and was still and stagnant compared to the wild, vicious waters she had been sailing over, and living on, for the past two weeks. She felt ridiculous in her loose-fitting clothes, with her hair toppled together on her head to keep it off her hot neck, leather sandals on her feet that left her toes on display.

Left them in the open to be trodden on—which they had been, several times. Too many times.

Dusk had just descended, and the nightlife was beginning. People were already unsteady on their feet, and Aelin had already found herself wading through a crowd watching two rather large fae males fighting.

The red tile rooves—she wondered if it was terracotta, or if they could paint rooves in a city like this—provided a glow that she hadn’t seen in Terrasen, lights were reflected off metal finishing and mirrors, and the white walls of the houses and establishments she wandered past.

She was waiting until she found a quieter street, a darker street, a street she would never normally be allowed to walk down. Because surviving a war meant that she was obviously incapable of keeping herself safe. But Aelin did not, and never once had, pretend to understand how her mother’s mind worked (in mysterious ways), she just liked (in fact, to live her own life).

Hence the drastic measures.

Her ears twitched at every sound, and every movement had her eyes following, each time a person was pushed into her, or brushed her skin as they hurried past—her skin tightening, and her mind throbbed with the urge to punch them.

Healthy, it was not. But Aelin, it most certainly was.

With her senses having taken all they possibly could, ignoring the need for somewhere down a dark and deserted street she would never normally be allowed down, she darted into the doorway of the nearest bar.

The walls were white, or as close to white as they could be given the fact it was a bar and drinks got spilt and stains got left. The bar was blonde wood, which was shined and sanded, smooth to her delicate, explorative touch. She picked her fingertips up, rubbed them together, and blew on them.

Found no dust.

She took a seat, and she cursed her mother for creating this clean freak.

With her head cradled between two hands, she couldn’t imagine she was the kind of person that frequented a bar like this. But when she looked around and found people talking quietly, subtle piano music playing over the speakers, and too many open chairs to call this place busy, she found that she happened to be their target audience, no matter who that might be.

“Rough day?”

Aelin startled, looked up to find green eyes peering down at her from his place behind the bar. He held a cloth in one hand, and a jug in the other. He had on simple clothes, those you would normally find on a barkeep.

But Aelin couldn’t help but notice the warrior’s tattoos that featured all across his body, trailing up his arm, along his fingers, and across the backs of his hands. He had symbols drawn on his face, markings that displayed his rank, his wars, and his kills.

They were the markings of an ancient warrior. The exact collection belonged only to six men to ever exist, the elite. They were rumoured to have dispersed years ago, never to be seen together again. But here Aelin was, staring her history books right in the face, wondering if he could tell her war stories, wondering if he had any tips and tricks to prevent nightmares from waking her up.

She couldn’t stop, once her mind had started. Wondered which one he was. There was the hawk—Rowan Whitehorn. There was also the dark—Lorcan Salvaterre. The white wolf—Fenrys Moonbeam. The black wolf—Connall Moonbeam. The lion—Gavriel, but Aelin couldn’t recall his last name. and finally, the osprey—Vaughan, again, whose name she couldn’t remember.

The Cadre.

That was what her books liked to call them, and Aelin had liked the term. She and her cousin, Aedion, had spent much of their shared childhood playing like warriors. Stealing moves from the history books, using them on each other. Until Aelin’s mother had deemed it inappropriate and had stopped it from happening.

“Such a rough day that you’ve lost your hearing?” he asked again, becoming impatient in the time she was thinking.

“No. Not all.” She let out a harsh laugh, that maybe said today was a rough day, “it’s the best damned day I’ve had in fifteen years. Just a little over the crowds, I’m not quite used to the noise of this many people without the noise of war, accompanying.”

“It can be rough, but for now, I can offer you a drink, and my company. I’m Rowan, the owner.” His voice slid over her skin like honey, soft and silky, sticky as though it would never leave.

Aelin was glad when he said his name. he had always been her favourite; she had loved his bravery. Wondered whether his wind, his ice, would be enough her calm her fire, and be enough o encourage it.

She was glad, when he placed a drink in front of her, his own dangling from his fingers.

As they talked, telling stories, reminiscing about days gone by, and sharing war stories—each worse than the one before—Aelin was glad she had walked into the bar.

#rowaelinscourt #rowaelin month 2022 #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #tog #my fic #throne of glass #tog fic #my writing #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #llyncooljones' writing

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tomtenadia · 2 years

Text

Our big girl

Rowaelin month day 2: pregnancies and babies

CW: just a very brief mention to infertility and miscarriage.

It was an August morning and Rowan was in the kitchen making breakfast and cooking. Soft music played in the room not to disturb his two girls who were still heavily asleep in the big bed. Maya had joined her parents the previous night and had requested cuddles and neither parent had been able to deny it to the little girl.

Maya had been all excited about her big day because it was going to be her very first day of school.

A few weeks earlier they had all gone shopping for a proper backpack and also collected her uniform. She had been excited and had a huge ice cream to celebrate their girl growing up.

Aelin had been particularly emotional but they blamed it on her being pregnant with their second child. This time it was a boy and Rowan was delighted, although the idea of being surrounded by his women did not bother him. Especially considering how hard had been the pregnancy on Aelin. They had started trying a few months after getting married but they struggled and the doctor had started running tests to exclude infertility. Then after a year of failed attempts Aelin had finally fallen pregnant, but fate had another plan. They lost the baby only three months in. It had been hard on both but six months later the good news. Aelin was pregnant once again and Maya arrived eight months later. Rowan had cried the day he held his daughter. And now that tiny bundle was a five years old as energetic as her mother and was about to start school.

He was busy making coffee when he heard the pitter patter of small naked feet on the wooden floor.

He turned and saw Maya walking toward him. Her silver hair all mussed and with her hand she was brushing off sleep from her eyes as green as her father’s.

“Good morning, big girl.”

Maya grinned and stretched her arms and her father picked her up and peppered her face with kisses “did you let mama sleep?”

Maya nodded “she is tired.”

He placed his daughter on her chair “breakfast?”

“Pancakes!”

Rowan smiled and went to the fridge to gather all the ingredients “Chocolate chips?”

“Yes! Mama loves chocolate.”

He grabbed a plastic tumbler with a unicorn printed on and a blue straw with a panda figurine attached to it and poured her strawberry milk in it “Drink this.”

Maya grabbed the tumbler and started drinking while Rowan cooked “are you ready for school?”

“Yes, and mama told me that Aidan is coming too.”

Aidan was Lysandra and Aedion’s boy who was only a few months younger than Maya. They had grown up together and had become good friends.

“Do you want chocolate or strawberries on your pancakes?”

“Both!”

Rowan was trying very hard to teach his daughter to eat healthily, but her mother had a sweet-tooth and Maya was taking after his wife. The more she grew, the more he was positive that she resembled him only in appearance. Maya had hair as silver as his and eyes just as green, but that’s where the similarities stopped. The girl, although only five, had fire just like her mother.

Rowan passed a plate with two pancakes and some Nutella spread on it and then a side dish with strawberries “Go on, my love.” He had cut the pancake in triangles since Maya was still learning to use a knife.

“Thanks dada.”

He mussed her hair and went back preparing more for himself and a few for Aelin.

Fifteen minutes later Aelin appeared on the threshold wearing one of Rowan’s t-shirt that reached as far as her knees. She padded to her husband and begged for a kiss.

“Bleah,” cried Maya from her seat “kisses bleah.”

Rowan walked to his daughter and covered her cheeks in kisses and Maya giggled “oh so you like my kisses?”

“Yes,”

He smiled and went back making food for Aelin “How do you feel?”

She leaned against him “tired.”

“Take a seat, pancakes are almost ready.”

Aelin joined her daughter and his two women blabbed away while he was busy cooking. From time to time he would shoot a glance and smile at the two. They were his greatest treasure. After many years of bad relationships and heartaches, Aelin had entered his life like the tornado that she was and he knew that she was the one. And now they were building a family together and he would not change it for anything else in the world.

He finally joined them at the table and they all had breakfast together while Maya babbled all excited about school.

Rowan looked at Aelin a few times and saw his wife hiding the emotions trying to burst free. He knew she was struggling with the idea that their daughter was five already and going to school. To be honest he had been finding it hard too. For him she was still his little princess. She would always be his princess even when she was older and with her own family.

Breakfast over, Maya climbed off her chair and started running around the house screaming that she was going to school.

Aelin grabbed her daughter “come on, little hurricane, we need to get you cleaned up and ready.”

“I want the green ribbon.”

Maya had let her hair grow and they had bought her a lot of ribbons of different colours to tie her hair. Now she was in the green phase.

“Okay, my love.”

Hand in hand they walked to the bedroom and Aelin took the uniform out of her wardrobe and felt tears once again.

“Do you want me to help you dress up?”

“No mama, I am a big girl.” Her daughter was already an independent little thing.

Aelin sat on the bed and supervised Maya. The uniform had a plaid blue skirt with silver lines, a white polo shirt for the primary classes and a blue blazer too with the crest of the school at the front.

“Look mama, I am all dressed.”

Aelin hugged her daughter “go and tell dad.”

The little girl ran out of the room and to her father. She heard her voice explaining to her father that she had accomplished the feat all alone.

Aelin joined them in the living room and saw Rowan with his daughter in his arms “Come, let mama dress, I’ll tie your hair.”

“I told mum I want the green ribbon.”

Rowan disappeared in the bathroom and came back a few minutes later with the ribbon around his head.

His two women giggled at the scene and Rowan strutted and the giggles turned in pure laughter.

“He looks silly doesn’t he, Maya?”

Maya nodded “he’s funny.”

Rowan sat back on the sofa and removed the ribbon “come on here you and let me brush your hair.”

Maya sat on her father’s leg and Rowan brushed her hair “do you want a braid today?”

“Yes,” she squealed in delight.

An hour later they were in front of the school.

Maya climbed off the car and grabbed her backpack. It was blue and had the image of a koala on it. Maya was obsessed with koalas.

Aelin got off too and took her daughter by her hand while Rowan did the same and together they walked as far as the door where a teacher met them.

“Whitethorn, this is Maya.” Rowan told the teacher.

The girl waved at the woman.

“Welcome, Maya. Are you ready for school?”

“Yes.”

“Well, say bye to your mum and da and go inside with the others.”

Rowan and Aelin kneeled and hugged their daughter and Aelin fought hard to push away the tears.

“Be good my love, mum will pick you up this afternoon, okay?”

Maya nodded and tried to wriggle free but her parents did not let go.

Rowan was the first one who pulled back and then took Aelin’s hand.

Aelin stood and crashed against him and hugged his midriff and together they watched their daughter walking inside the school. Maya turned one time to wave at them and then ran away.

As she disappeared Aelin started sobbing.

“Fireheart?”

“She is growing up so quickly…”

Rowan pulled his wife aside and hugged her tightly while a hand landed on her bump “she is, but we are entering a new phase of her life. And look at how happy she was.”

Aelin nodded.

“Come on fireheart, I’ll drive you to work.”

Aelin looked at the school once more and smiled wishing their daughter a good first day on her new adventure as a big girl.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @acreativelydifferentlove @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98 @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @rowaelinscourt

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#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #rowaelinkids #rowan x aelin #rowaelin month 2022 #rowaelinmonth2022 #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin month

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foreverfallingforthestars · 2 years

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Ain't My Fault

As of yesterday I'm four teeth down but not in a lot of pain so I might try to get a few of the others I've planned out for Rowaelin Month! As always, big thank you to the team for hosting this and I hope people like this quick little drabble (I say as this is almost 2k words long) based off of Zara Larsson's Ain't My Fault. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in my TOG fics! I did tag for my Hating Game AU but I don't want to assume lol

Word Count: 1683 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Master list

Day 1 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Song Fic

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

It was criminal, honestly, how good looking this man was. It simply did not make sense that a silver haired man with tattoos could look this fine , and yet, here he was. He had walked into the club with his two friends and claimed three seats at the bar while Aelin had watched the entire thing from her spot at a table in the corner. It certainly didn’t help her case that he was wearing a simple v-neck white shirt under a leather jacket that had been rolled up, showcasing the swirling black tattoos on his left forearm.

Aelin bit down on her bottom lip before letting go of it slowly as she watched the current bane of her existence laugh before taking a shot of tequila. She watched with bated breath as his Adam's apple worked as he swallowed before he wiped at his lips with a swipe of his thumb.

“If you stare any harder at him, you’re going to make him burst into flame,” Lysandra laughed, nudging Aelin with an elbow, and Aelin jerked her gaze away from the man that had captured her attention for the past fifteen minutes.

“Shut up,” she responded, half-heartedly glaring. “It’s not my fault that he’s fucking handsome.”

Elide leaned her elbows on the table before resting her chin on her folded hands. “Honestly, I don’t know why you two haven’t just banged, yet. Lorcan keeps complaining about the sexual tension that remains after you two talk.”

“I’m not going to be the first one to crack, Elide. Rowan needs to come to me ,” Aelin insisted, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I can’t seem desperate.”

“Will you consider it if I say that we’re desperate for you two, instead?” Lysandra groaned around a sip of her daiquiri. Elide snorted as she picked up her phone, presumably to text Lorcan to tell him where the girls were sitting. The original plan had been to enjoy a nice girl’s night out with just the three of them, but then it somehow turned into a plan to try to get Aelin and Rowan together by the end of the night. She didn’t know why but there was something magnetic between the two ever since they had met each other after Lorcan, Rowan’s friend, had started dating Elide. Her eyes were always drawn to him, and it only got worse as time went on and she realized how much she liked being around him.

Elide texted Lorcan and told him to invite Fenrys and Rowan, and sure enough, the man was whipped for his girlfriend and did exactly as she said.

It might also be because he was also sick of the push and pull between her and Rowan, but she’d rather believe that Lorcan had feelings .

“No, I won’t,” she responded, but it felt like she might as well make the move since Rowan was taking forever. That wasn’t something she was willing to admit, though.

“You’re the absolute worst . I can’t even live vicariously through you!”

“I didn’t think you had the need to,” Aelin mentioned, raising an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that you and Aedion were doing perfectly fine.”

Lysandra shrugged, waving her hand around in a dismissive motion. “You’re the one that insists that we can’t talk about the sex in detail, so I need you to do that for all of us.”

“He’s my cousin, woman. Besides, why can’t Elide be enough?”

“Because I have boundaries,” Elide laughed as she looked up from her phone. “And,” she continued, her voice getting down to a whisper as a smirk played on her lips, “we maybe women in happily committed relationship, but we still want to know what it’s like to have sex with Rowan. Like, have you seen the man?”

Aelin’s jaw dropped as she let out a shocked laugh. “I’m going to tell Lorcan you said that. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that.”

“Tell me what?” a voice asked from Aelin’s right, and the girls turned to find Lorcan, Fenrys, and Rowan standing in front of their table. Rowan’s eyes were already on her, glancing over her body, or at least what he could see of her top half. The gleam in her eyes made her glad for the time she had spent getting ready. Plus, it was helpful to know that trying to leave the club with him tonight would be a lot easier than she expected.

“That I absolutely love you,” Elide covered before Aelin could even open her mouth to respond, and it was clear from Lorcan’s eye roll that he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t bother questioning her, anyway. The three sat down on the table, and the kick from Lysandra from under the table — along with the glare that made her green eyes look even brighter than normal — led to Aelin making one of the more questionable choices in her recent memory, but honestly, it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t be blamed for how close Rowan was to her and how badly her shin ached from the stiletto.

While Lysandra and Elide had distracted Lorcan and Fenrys thoroughly with an argument over something with diet soda that Aelin didn’t care about, she leaned an elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand, leaning her body towards Rowan.

“So, what’s your name, handsome? Better yet, what’s your sign so I know we’re compatible?”

Rowan’s face lit up with a laugh before the bright smile turned into a smirk that made Aelin want to jump into an ice bath with how her body was beginning to burn. It was as though she were the flame that could only be soothed by his ice.

“I didn’t think we had the time to go through those questions,” he commented, running a hand through his hair, and Aelin wanted it to be her hands that ran through his hair.

And played with it and tugged on it and —

“I mean, considering the way you seemed to be staring at me earlier,” he finished. Rowan’s bright green eyes held the promise of what could happen later tonight, and the fact that he was well aware of her attention on him made Aelin much bolder.

Aelin scoffed but trailed her index finger down the length of his forearm and hand before resting it on his thigh. “And? Do you want me to ‘accidentally’ trip and fall into your lap to make things easier on you?”

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

“How about you take the charge for once? The staring wasn’t a one-way thing, after all,” Aelin pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Rowan looked down at her dress again before looking at her, his pine-green eyes pinning hers.

“If you two are going to just eye-fuck one another, can you please not do it in front of us,” Fenrys begged out of the corner of her eye, and Aelin jerked her hand from Rowan’s thigh. She refused to let her cheeks burn out of embarrassment, and the only saving grace was that she was drinking so her cheeks were already slightly flushed and pink. Rowan also momentarily looked startled by the comment until he rolled his eyes and told Fenrys off.

“How about I just make myself scarce around you, Fenrys,” she retorted before glancing over at Rowan and seeing him opening something on his phone that made Aelin suppress a smile.

She was about to continue her conversation with Rowan when she caught Elide’s — and by default, Lysandra’s as well — eyes, blatantly telling her to get her ass up and on the dance floor to get Rowan away and out of the club, preferably with her.

Aelin rolled her eyes at her best friends, but she sighed as she relented. She was really out here doing all the work, but then again, she’d seen what Rowan had been doing on his phone earlier, so it’d be all worth it.

She stood up and straightened out her gold sleeveless wrap dress, making sure that she wasn’t accidentally flashing the wrong people, and made her way into the throng of dancing people. Aelin didn’t have to wonder if Rowan would follow her to the middle of the crowd because she knew for a fact that he would, and she wasn’t going to be responsible for what happened between the two.

So, really, it wasn’t her fault that she spent so long on her makeup and hair for tonight after she heard Rowan was coming to the club, making sure her lips were painted the perfect red and her hair was in soft curls down her back.

It wasn’t her fault that she had coincidentally picked a gold dress after overhearing him express that gold was his favorite color on girls.

And it certainly wasn’t her fault that she instinctively knew he was coming when she recognized the scent of his fresh snow cologne as he approached. A smile graced her face as she felt his large, warm hands slowly trail around the side of her waist towards the center of her stomach where they flexed once, a test to see if she would pull away from her.

Aelin leaned into his body, pressing her back into Rowan’s, and she felt his chest rumble as he laughed.

“Is someone eager?” he whispered into her ear.

Aelin smiled. “You say that as though I didn’t see you order that Uber before I came out here to dance.”

“Is that a crime to want a drive home after drinking?” he asked as Aelin dragged one of hands away from her waist and down towards the hem of her short dress. His fingertips snuck underneath the hem for a brief moment before they trailed back up her body.

“It’s not,” she responded, turning in his arms and snaking them around his neck. “But it could be if the address wasn’t yours, and was, oh I don’t know, mine?”

Rowan smiled at that and bent down to softly brush his lips against hers. “And who’s fault is that, you temptress?”

“Certainly not mine.”

#throne of glass fic #tog fic #throne of glass #rowaelin month 2022 #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius

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slytherhys · 2 years

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Strung-Out Heart II

A/N - I was supposed to post this yesterday and I completely forgot! I'm going to set Saturdays as the official posting day for this fic. I'm still not sure how many chapters long it will be but I'm thinking of around 20 max. We shall see!

TW - strong language, mature themes.

Chapter I

Rowan

The rhythmic bass of a familiar song was the first thing Rowan noticed when waking up – a favourite of Elide’s if he remembered correctly. He wasn’t sure why anyone was listening to it this early in the morning, especially in his apartment building. He only had 2 other neighbours and neither of them seemed the type to listen to the same tunes Elide fancied. His apartment smelled like something sweet, something that clearly didn’t belong there. Rowan tried to think of anyone who could be assaulting his kitchen but the only two people who had a spare key to his apartment was Lorcan, who couldn’t cook to save a life, and his mother who, as far as he was concerned, was still in her own home, a continent away. He couldn’t think of anyone else, but truth be told he couldn’t exactly think at all. His head seemed to have been split wide open and his mouth was dry enough to be concerning. Opening his eyes seemed nothing short of a challenge, especially since the sunlight seemed to be shining directly into his eyeballs – something he had tried to avoid when setting his bed on the darkest corner of his bedroom.

But the second thing Rowan noticed, this time when he finally managed to open his eyes, was that he wasn’t in his bedroom. At least, it wasn’t his bedroom anymore – not since he had moved away and sold it to Lorcan and Elide. He hadn’t last 2 weeks living in it after Aelin had left.

Aelin.

Rowan groaned, burying his head in his soft pillow – Elide’s doing, no doubt. Rowan was holding on to a sliver of hope that he had dreamed her standing in Aedion’s kitchen last night. It wouldn’t have been the first time it had happened either – the first year after she left, he would dream of her return home. Sometimes it would be a happy reunion; most times it had not. Yet, nothing compared to the real thing. Aelin in baggy pyjamas – a sweater than was remarkably similar to one he had lost a few years ago - her hair loose and draping down her shoulders, beckoning him like a siren’s calling. Everything about her last night had felt too damn appealing, too dangerous. She looked tired, reluctant. Hopeful. Of what, Rowan wasn’t sure. He was only sure she had to leave.

The door of his old bedroom flew open just as Lorcan walked in, a glass of something green in one hand, a plate of baked goods in another. Rowan perked up – Elide owned a bakery on main street and her pastries usually sold out before noon. If she had baked him her sinful cannolis he might just move back into his old room. The idea seemed more appealing by the minute.

“Morning, sunshine.” Lorcan grumbled, setting down the dishes on the bedside table. Rowan could hear angels singing the minute his gaze landed on the cannoli. He would kiss Elide if Lorcan wouldn’t send him flying through the window the minute he touched her. No matter how much Rowan wanted to deny it, he was scared of Lorcan. Standing at almost 7ft (Rowan still doesn’t quite believe that) and being more muscular than anyone his size should ever be allowed to be, Lorcan usually wasn’t one to create trouble – not unless anyone bothered Elide. The only time a rude costumer had raised his voice to the sweet woman, the bakery had gone perfectly still as Lorcan had raised from his seat by the door. Both Lorcan and that man had left through the back door (only one willingly) – Rowan had never seen than man again.

Lorcan sat on Rowan’s bed as he reached for a cannoli and took a bite, fighting the moan threatening to escape his mouth. His friend was already eyeing him with an intensity Rowan didn’t exactly enjoy first thing in the morning, and there was no reason to add to it. “What time is it?” Rowan asked, taking a gulp of the green smoothie Elide had made him and cringing slightly.

“2 in the afternoon.” Lorcan replied softly, and it was incredible how he managed to tell him so many things in that answer alone. It’s way too late to be in bed, his tone implied. What the fuck are you doing in my house? A strong follow up. Lorcan had a talent for silent conversations.

And to be perfectly honest, Rowan didn’t even remember why he was at Lorcan’s place. After leaving Aedion’s place, he had sent a text to Fenrys and met him at his bar. Fenrys had taken a look at Rowan, served him some top of shelf whiskey and after 3 glasses, things started to look foggy. From what he could remember, not even Fenrys knew what had brought him to his bar minutes shy of closing but apparently his sombre face gave Fenrys the right idea – that he needed alcohol. And a lot of it.

Rowan took another drink of the green blob before shoving another cannoli into his mouth. Lorcan kept watching him, silent and broody. He could hear Elide singing a new tune, her lovely voice seeming to ease something inside his chest. Rowan sighed, leaning back against the cushioned headboard. “How did I end up here?”

Lorcan raised a single eyebrow. You don’t remember? It said. Smug bastard. “Fenrys called me at 3 in the morning to ask me if you could sleep here. Said that you insisted on coming here.”

Rowan groaned. Being drunk felt oddly like taking care of a kid you never got a chance to meet. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed his eyes. “I drank way too much. I shouldn’t have come here.”

Lorcan tilted his head slightly to the left, eyeing him with open curiosity. “What happened, Ro? The last time I saw you like this-” Lorcan stopped suddenly, his eyes widening slightly as he muttered a single fuck under his breath. Rowan shared the sentiment. He suddenly got up, his hand shoving his long hair away from his face. “When?”

Not for the first time, Rowan felt grateful his best friend didn’t need an explanation. Rowan still couldn’t bring himself to say the words; to face the facts. Saying it would make it real. Rowan couldn’t deal with real right now.

“Last night.” He swallowed, looking away from Lorcan. He knew what he would find in his expression. Worst of all, he knew he should be feeling the same way. But the truth was, Rowan still wasn’t sure how he was feeling. There was too much noise inside his head to make any sense of it. “I went to Aedion’s to drop off his new equipment and she was just there.” Rowan looked back at his friend. Lorcan’s jaw looked seconds away from popping from the way he was clenching it. “Said she was staying for a while.”

“At Aedion’s?” Lorcan chuckled dryly. “Why didn’t he tell us shit?”

Rowan had asked himself the same question. He wanted to believe his friend wouldn’t lie to him; that he had been just as surprised by his cousin’s visit as Rowan had been.

“Why did you want to come here, Rowan?” Lorcan’s voice was deadly calm, but by the way he was looking at him, Rowan was sure Lorcan knew exactly why he was here; why he had insisted on staying here, of all places, after seeing Aelin for the first time in 3 years. Something that felt remarkably like shame burned inside his chest – so Rowan did what he did best – he ignored it and shoved it under the rug. Getting up, flinching slightly at the throb in his temples, Rowan started getting dressed. His clothes were folded neatly in a white chair and the shame of crashing at his friends’ house threatened to hold him hostage. He owed Lorcan and Elide big time – he would be buying the most expensive bottle of wine he could afford to thank them, that was for sure.

“Rowan.” Lorcan called but Rowan kept dressing. “I’m worried, man. I don’t like that she still holds this much power over you.”

“You and me both.” Rowan mumbled as he put his sweater on.

“This doesn’t have to mean anything, Rowan. Let her do what she came to do and then she’ll leave again.” Lorcan chuckled darkly. “It’s what she does best, isn’t it?”

Rowan flinched; he knew Lorcan’s words were true. He knew he had to be careful not to let him be swept away into Aelin’s web again. It was the last thing he needed. But the reminder didn’t hurt any less. “I’m going to go.” He mumbled, turning to Lorcan.

“Rowan-”

“I’m fine, Lorcan.” He sighed. “I know I was a mess after she left. I know how much both you and Elide helped me stay above ground but now you have to trust that I can manage on my own.”

Lorcan eyed him carefully, a furrow in his brows. Rowan couldn’t blame him for his reluctancy – he was grateful, even. Lorcan had always been a good friend, but the year Aelin left he had helped him heal. He had seen how he had changed, how he had become a different man. It wasn’t a surprise Lorcan was scared – Rowan had scared even himself by the way he had turned his life around for the worst. He would never be able to thank him enough for all of it.

“We’ll always be here for you, Ro.” He slapped his hand against Rowan’s shoulder, making him stumble forward a bit. Rowan cursed under his breath and pointedly ignored the little smirk on Lorcan’s face as he left the room. “But wake up my girlfriend at 3AM again because you’re drunk, and I’ll punch you in the face.”

…

“Holy shit,” Fenrys’ voice sounded over the music playing through the bar’s sound system – Fenrys never played his music too loud, something Rowan deeply appreciated. Especially tonight, considering the throbbing behind his temples. The blond was leaning against the counter, looking relaxed as Chaol served the only customers sitting at the counter. “She’s back?” He asked, taking a sip from what looked like water. It could also be vodka – when it came to Fenrys, everything was possible. Moonbeam leaned against the counter, his voice booming over the music. “I assumed something bad had happened when you walked into the bar like someone had punched you in the dick, but I didn’t even think of that being a possibility.”

Rowan groaned. “Speaking of bar, shouldn’t you be working?”

“What do you think I hired Chaol for?” He shrugged, grinning as he looked around, probably checking to see if there was a customer unattended. Fenrys loved his business, no matter how much he tried to fool people. “Have you talked to Aedion?”

“Haven’t been able to.” He had tried calling, but it had gone to voicemail every single time. It wouldn’t be surprising if the man was purposely ignoring him, especially if Aelin had told him what had happened the night before. Rowan took another sip of his much-deserved glass of whiskey. Sure, he had gotten drunk last night and shouldn’t be drinking again so soon, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Maybe you should drop by his place.” Fenrys suggested, his eyes following the new group of people entering the bar, his mind clearly elsewhere. Rowan shot him an unimpressed look, but Fenrys was already too hooked on the new people to pay him any mind. “Honestly, I haven’t even seen Aedion lately. He disappeared, like, 2 weeks ago.” Fenrys added, only half-invested in their conversation.

Rowan frowned. Actually, he hadn’t seen Aedion in the past two weeks either. He had texted earlier this week for Rowan to drop off his boxing equipment at his place, but other than that he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his friend. “You think something’s going on?” Rowan sat up straighter, a knot taking form in his stomach.

“I don’t know, man.” Fenrys looked at him. “But it’s not like him to disappear without saying something.” He shrugged before making his way over to where the new customers were waiting.

Rowan leaned against the back of the tall wooden chair, running a hand through his hair. He had forgotten he had cut it; forgotten that Aelin had never seen him with shorter hair prior yesterday. He wondered if she liked it. He mostly wondered why he was wondering such a thing.

Rowan figured he would have to talk to Aelin eventually. Aedion was a big part of Rowan’s life and Aelin was a big part of his, whether Rowan liked it or not. When Aelin had left, Aedion was his only connection to her. Her cousin would never reveal much, but it had been enough. Even if that first year had been clouded by pain and anger, Rowan had still cared about her. In the first months, Aedion would offer simple, yet frequent, updates. She’s okay. She found an apartment. She has friends with her.

It hurt all the same, knowing she was creating a new life after leaving her old one with such ease. But it was better than knowing nothing at all. The updates eventually became less frequent, and, to a certain extent, Rowan was grateful for it. Aelin would always be the love of his life, but he needed to move on – at the time, Aedion seemed to be the only one realising that.

Last time he heard, Aelin was working for the Adarlan newspaper, just 5 hours away from Orynth. Not that she told him, no. Aedion had; one morning over coffee as casually as one talks about the weather. Rowan had almost choked to death.

He wondered if Aelin asked about him. He wondered if Aedion told her about Lyria and about Remelle. He hoped he did. He also hoped he didn’t. Rowan groaned; this was exactly why Aelin needed to stay away. There was no need for him to be thinking about such things. He had a business to run, friends to care about and if he ever needed other types of…entertainment, he could always send a text to a few friends of his. It was simple, casual, harmless. Everything Aelin was not.

Rowan grumbled, drinking the rest of his liquor in one gulp, and setting his cup down on the counter with way too much force. Shaking his head slightly, he raised his head, only to find Fenrys watching him with a funny expression on his face. He pointedly ignored it.

Looking back to his now empty glass, Rowan wondered if he should order another one. He definitely didn’t want to end up at Lorcan’s again tonight, but tomorrow was Sunday and the parlour was closed for the weekend. Maybe one more glass wouldn’t-

“Shit.” He heard Fenrys mumble, Rowan’s head snapping up to find his friend. He had a whiskey bottle in his hand, stopping just half-way to where Rowan was. But he wasn’t staring at Rowan or at his cup. He was staring behind Rowan’s back, right at the door. Rowan felt a shiver run down his spine as he turned around, not at all surprised to find her standing there, looking like a deer in headlights.

Aelin, wearing a short white dress, her hair up in a ponytail, her cheeks flushed from the cold September air. She was frozen at the door, her eyes looking from Rowan to Fenrys to Rowan again.

“H-hi.” Her raspy voice made Rowan snap out his trance. He took a deep breath and turned to Fenrys, his eyes pleading.

Yeah, he was going for another fucking drink.

#rowaelin fic #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #aelin fic #tog fic #tog #tog fanfiction #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass #rowaelin au #rowaelin month #strung out heart #rowaelin month 2022

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