#the royal palace of orynth

[shadowdaddies]

Hi can I request Manon x reader where reader tries to avoid Manon but the witch isn’t having any of it

Lead the Way

Manon x fem!Reader

warnings: some suggestiveness

Sweat started to build on the back of your neck as you marched purposefully down the hallway. Quickly twisting your hair up, you secured the strands back in a leather tie as you recounted the remaining tasks ahead of tonight’s dinner. 

After weeks of preparation, the royal palace in Orynth was finally set to host its celebration recognizing the reign of Queen Aelin. You were hosting dignitaries and rulers from all over Erilea, including the King of Adarlan, Lord and Lady of Perranth, and the Queen of the Witch Kingdom, and it was part of your role in House Galathynius to arrange not only the celebration, but to host the important guests.

As you stormed down the hallway, a whirlwind of questions being thrown at you by anxious workers looking for guidance, you caught the gaze of a tall white-haired woman being greeted. 

She was striking - so much so that you found yourself lost in her golden eyes, losing track of your steps and tripping over your own feet. A soft smile graced her lips as you stumbled forward, eyes glowing with amusement as you noticed the black and red cloak she donned. Your heart flipped in your chest as you recognized her - Manon Blackbeak, the Queen of Witches. 

Another question from a kitchen assistant drew you from your thoughts as you were led down to the galley, away from the striking witch who was quickly taking over your thoughts. Shaking your head, you attempted to clear your mind of her smile, her long beautiful hair. No, you could not be distracted during this event, by anyone.

As you moved to your room to ready for dinner, you resolved to stay away from the Witch Queen, aiming to avoid the beautiful distraction that she was. It would be easy enough with the many tasks you had for the celebration, and as the person who created the seating chart, you knew you were sitting far enough apart to avoid her at dinner.

With a deep breath, you smoothed the fabric of your skirts before making your way down to the evening meal. Allowing yourself to pause for a moment to admire the grand decoration you had arranged, you were filled with peace at the feeling. 

The chandeliers were polished so that they glowed, fresh flowers adding brightness to the room. People were gathered around in their finery, donning colorful dresses and dapper tuxedos as they found their seats. Moving towards your own seat next to Aelin, the Queen stopped you, granting you a soft smile as she thanked you for planning the events. “I had a request to change your seat. I hope that’s alright,” Aelin smirked at you, nodding to the only open space available down the table.

Your breath caught in your lungs as you locked eyes once more with Manon, whose arm lay draped over the open seat next to hers. With a gentle push, Aelin directed you towards your seat, your feet carrying you numbly towards the other queen ahead of you.

Long iron nails wrapped around the back of the seat, pulling it out as you approached. “I do not believe we’ve been properly introduced. My name is Manon,” she greeted, a rich velvet voice carrying in your direction.

You gave her a polite smile, introducing yourself as you tucked your skirts under your thighs, lowering yourself into the seat. Clearing your throat, you dared to glance at the witch, her knowing smile sending a shock of nerves through you. 

“I noticed you earlier,” Manon paused, waving an arm in gesture to the dining room. “Aelin said that you orchestrated this entire event. I wanted to personally thank you for everything.”

Blush flushed your cheeks at her praise as you gave a shy nod in thanks. “Please let me know if there is anything else that I can do for you while you are here,” you murmured softly to her.

Leaning back in her seat, Manon turned to you with a wicked grin. Eyes roving over your body, she toasted her glass to you before taking a sip of her wine. “There are a great many things that I would like to do for you as well,” she whispered, lowly so that only you could hear.

You blushed furiously, stumbling through conversation with her as the evening progressed, and you understood even more fully now why you had meant to ignore the witch in the first place. She was entirely captivating, a surprisingly effervescent wave of light that you found yourself longing to bathe in. 

As the dinner ended and people began to rise from their seats, Aelin and Rowan came to thank you again for the evening. Your eyes shifted nervously to the Witch Queen, who stood patiently by your side as you spoke with Aelin about plans for tomorrow.

After wishing Aelin and Rowan a good night, you turned to Manon to tell her good night before going up to your room, but she spoke first. “Would you like to come to my chambers for a drink?” she asked, more reserved than she had been all night.

You shifted back and forth on your feet as your mind shifted back and forth between the possibilities. You made the mistake of looking into those golden eyes, molten with desire - desire to know you, to hold you - and could not stop the smile that graced your features as you took the Queen’s hand and nodded. “Lead the way, witchling.”

#throne of glass #throne of glass x reader #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass fanfic #manon blackbeak x reader #manon blackbeak #manon throne of glass #manon tog #manon blackbeak fluff #manon x reader #manon x you #aelin throne of glass #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #tog imagine #tog series #tog x reader fluff #tog #tog x reader #tog x you #manon crochan #manon blackbeak fic #manon x f!reader #manon x fem!reader

[leiawritesstories]

A Visit to Orynth

Rowaelin Month, Day 24: How Rowan Knew "Fireheart"

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: canon has been edited because i said so, Maeve, royal politics, references to the blood oath and other canon fun

Enjoy!!

@rowaelinscourt

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

The prince first visited Orynth when he was a young male, barely twenty-four years old. His parents frequently traveled for diplomatic reasons, and they’d invited him to accompany them for the first time that year. We won’t ask you to do anything, they promised. Just come along and get a sense for what the world of politics is like. 

Prince Rowan Whitethorn had never been a fan of politics. He preferred steel to statecraft–give him a broadsword or a pair of hatchets any day. 

But he went to Orynth that spring, and for some reason that he couldn’t name, he felt oddly at home in the sprawling city with its unusual but somehow perfect blend of stone buildings and patches of greenspace like little meadows dotting the cobbled streets. 

He left most of the diplomacy and politicking to his parents, who spent most of their days holed up in council chambers with Queen Elena and King Brannon and their court. The first couple of days, he had to attend the sessions, and he paid as much attention as he could before resorting to drawing little battle diagrams on his note sheets. His father noticed, but said nothing, only muffled his knowing smile and quietly directed Rowan towards the training yard. So Rowan spent the rest of that visit with the palace guards, sparring and training and exchanging technique and tactical notes with the highly skilled military. 

That was the last time he visited Orynth for nearly three centuries. 

Upon his return to Doranelle, Rowan entered the legions, and he barely saw his home or his family for the next three hundred years. He rose swiftly through the ranks, ascending rapidly to the rank of captain before he was seventy-five years old. His queen took notice of his prowess, and he was inducted into the bloodsworn legions, an honor granted to precious few warriors. The decades he spent serving closely under the queen’s command honed him into a warrior of near-impossible capacity, and honed his heart into a block of ice, as impassive as the glaciers of the far north. 

~

Prince Rowan Whitethorn was three hundred and thirty years old the second time he visited Orynth. 

Erilea had been casually discussing their relations with Doranelle for the last century, and it had finally reached a point where the rulers of the Erilean kingdoms decided to host a summit and invite representatives from Wendlyn and Doranelle. Wendlyn, of course, sent a delegation of Ashryvers, who were relations of the royal family of Terrasen. Maeve called together her bloodsworn and chose two of them to accompany the five selected Fae delegates. 

“I trust you will keep your Queen aware of the discussions,” she purred, a deceptively soft smile gracing her lips as she handed Rowan and Vaughan their notes for the talks. 

Rowan dipped his head in acquiescence. “Of course, Majesty.” 

Three weeks later, as he stepped off the ship and set foot into Terrasen for the second time in his life, he drew in a lungful of the crisp, clear mountain air, and found that its scent comforted a part of him that had been empty and aching since his parents passed away. 

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, occupying himself instead with the concerns of the discussions. Maeve had sent him–her legendary warrior-prince–for a reason, despite his lack of diplomatic skill, and he intended to prove that he could hold his own at a meeting full of human royalty. And if things went poorly, then he could fall back onto Vaugahn’s quiet, diplomatic tact. 

King Orlon Galathynius greeted the Doranelle contingent as they entered the council room on the first day of the summit. The human king was aging, but the lines around his eyes and the gray of his hair only strengthened his image as a capable, compassionate leader. According to what Rowan knew, Orlon had ruled Terrasen for nearly twenty years and showed no signs of abdicating soon, although his younger brother, Crown Prince Rhoe Galathynius, worked closely with the king. 

“Welcome to Terrasen,” King Orlon said warmly, clasping Rowan’s hand in a firm handshake that proved he retained his physical strength. “It’s an honor to welcome Doranelle back to our land.” 

“The honor is ours.” Rowan dipped his head in a bow to the king. He bowed lower for his own Queen, but the courtesy was still due. 

Inside the meeting chamber, a dark-haired, younger version of Orlon approached Rowan and Vaughan and exchanged greetings. “Rhoe Galathynius. Pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Prince Whitethorn, Lord Recorre.” 

“Please, leave off the title, Highness.” Rowan shook Rhoe’s hand, noting the insignias the human prince wore on his jacket–military rankings. “We’re all just delegates for peaceful relations, aren’t we?” 

“Indeed.” Rhoe smiled. “Let me show you to your seats; this room is rarely used, so it’s always a nightmare to navigate. I keep telling Orlon we need to use the throne room, but he–ah, Evalin!” A stately, golden-haired woman with the distinctive turquoise eyes of the Ashryver family and a slender silver circlet around her brow had walked up and laid her hand fondly on Rhoe’s arm. He tucked her arm into his with a soft, tender smile. “Vaughan, Rowan, allow me to introduce Princess Evalin Ashryver, my lovely and far more talented wife.” 

“Welcome back to Orynth,” Evalin smiled. “It’s been far too long since we hosted Queen Maeve’s people.” 

In that moment, Rowan knew two things with absolute certainty. First, Princess Evalin Ashryver knew that he and Vaugahn were bloodsworn–he didn’t know how she knew, but she did. And second, if her lineage (and her scent) were correct, she was a direct descendant of the Fae Queen Mab, Maeve’s sister, and therefore was most likely the Fae Queen of the West. 

Suddenly, he wondered if he’d been sent to Orynth to view Evalin with his own senses and bring knowledge of the Ashryver princess back to Maeve. 

The sonorous peal of the great brass gong tore Rowan away from his thoughts. 

“Ah, we’re about to start.” Rhoe dipped his head at Rowan and Vaughan. “It truly is an honor to host you in Orynth. Please, attend dinner with Evalin and I.” He flicked a half-grin at his wife. “We’d better get to our seats, Fireheart.” 

Fireheart. 

“You and your misleading nicknames,” Evalin teased as she and Rhoe walked off. Rowan’s Fae hearing picked up their conversation. “I don’t have the fire gift, my love, only the water. Fire is Brannon’s line’s gift.” 

“You have the fire in your heart, my love,” Rhoe returned. “And who knows? Perhaps someday the gift will manifest in one of our children, if we’re so blessed.” 

“It’s a slim chance.” Evalin’s whisper contained an ocean of sadness. 

“It’s still a chance, Fireheart.” Rhoe kissed his wife’s forehead. 

Rowan stopped listening then, overcome by what he’d just learned. The fire gift. It wasn’t a myth after all–the gift of fire magic laid dormant in the royal bloodline of Terrasen, and the intersection of the Ashryver and Galathynius lines with Rhoe and Evalin’s marriage just might be enough for the near-mythical gift of Brannon Galathynius’s fire to manifest again. 

Fireheart. So the prince’s affectionate name for his wife was more than just an endearment–it was a wish for their future. For their kingdom’s future. 

Fireheart. 

~

Rowan went to Orynth again ten years later, but this time, he went uninvited. He shifted into his hawk form when his small ship had docked in the harbor, and he remained in that form for the entirety of the next few days. He went to Orynth not to negotiate or pay a formal visit, but to linger on the parapets of the castle and pick up conversation. 

He went as a spy. 

On his last night in Orynth–a blustery, rainy night–Rowan perched on a window ledge and pressed his hawk body as close to the window glass as possible without making a terribly loud noise. He stretched his Fae senses down and out, into the dining room below his perch, and strained to hear the conversation taking place in the room. The royal family of Terrasen was hosting the royal family of Adarlan, and rumor had it that relations between Adarlan and every other Erilean kingdom were tense, if not outright hostile. 

Rowan couldn’t make out much of the conversation, but he heard enough. Bits and pieces of politely veiled threats, the sneer behind the king of Adarlan’s tone, the uncomfortable shifting of the staff and guards who stood at the edge of the room–it pointed towards looming conflict. He hopped off his perch and flew up to a window he knew was in Rhoe and Evalin’s chambers. Perhaps he’d hear something worthwhile from them. 

It wasn’t long before the prince and princess came wearily into their rooms, speaking in hushed tones about the poor signals from Adarlan. 

“I’m worried, Rhoe,” Evalin admitted. There was a soft clink as she laid her jewelry on top of the dressing table. “There’s something bigger than just Adarlan at play here.” 

“Something magical?” Rhoe asked. 

“It’s possible. I…I don’t think it’s purely magical, though. That ring of Adarlan’s…I can’t describe it, but I felt like it was looking at me, almost like it wanted to claim me.” 

Rowan gripped his perch with all the strength of his taloned feet, determined not to slip despite his shock. 

“Fireheart,” Rhoe breathed, coming over to embrace his wife, “are you certain? I trust your judgment–I have no way of detecting magic–but…” He took a deep, measured breath. “A wrong move from Adarlan could constitute war, and if there’s magic at play…” 

“It could end us all,” Evalin whispered. 

Rowan had heard enough. Quietly, he hopped off the window ledge and launched himself up into the wind and rain, his thoughts churning as rapidly as the storm. Adarlan. Magic. War. He hadn’t known what his Queen had wanted him to discover when she sent him to Orynth, but he’d bet his broadsword that it wasn’t rumors of magical war. 

Three weeks later, when his ship docked back in Doranelle, Lorcan delivered the news, and the information he’d heard while spying suddenly clicked into place. 

Adarlan had performed some kind of ritual that banished magic. The King of Adarlan had armies marching across Erilea to root out magic-users, and everywhere his army went, he claimed dominion. Melisande and Fenharrow had capitulated. Eyllwe seemed on the brink of collapsing. The Western Wastes and the Witchlands had separated. 

And the entire royal family of Terrasen was dead. 

~

Orynth was so different from the first time Rowan had set foot in the city, but the mountain breezes still smelled the same. The ancient and modern buildings and the winding cobblestone streets bore scars from the war, but new green life had begun to creep across the slashes and scuffs and scorch marks, blanketing the damage of war. The grand stone castle still crowned the city hill, but its doors were no longer barred. Instead, commoners and nobles and Fae–both full and partial–filtered in and out of the castle grounds, uniting the crown and the city. 

The continent was healing, and his wife had made it all possible. 

Speaking of…Aelin’s voice sounded in his mind. Is the castle really that bad, buzzard?

He grinned. I find my skills better suited to the physical act of rebuilding.

I know a physical act or two that could use your skills. 

I’m sure you do, Fireheart.

A surge of her love filled his mind. Where are you?

Near the western wall.

Solitary buzzard. He felt her bright laughter ripple through his blood, warming him through. I’ll be there in a moment.

And a few minutes later, she was there, her crown tipped sideways atop her messy hair. “Rowan.” 

“Fireheart.” He set the one last stone into place in the section of wall he was working on, turned, and pulled her against his chest, reveling in the trace of embers that always followed her. 

“You keep avoiding court when I need you,” Aelin teased. “Who else is going to scowl at the lords when they say something idiotic?” 

“I’m sure you can handle that,” he drawled. “You are the queen, Fireheart.” 

She chuckled and went quiet for a moment, gazing over the tumbled wall out into the evergreen hills. “I’ve been wondering, buzzard. Why ‘Fireheart?’ You can’t have known that’s what my parents called me when I was a child, even with all your centuries of knowledge.” Humor laced her last words. 

“Are you calling me old, love?” 

“Always.” She smirked. “Tell me, buzzard.” 

Rowan was silent for a long moment, working over the story, wondering how much he could say before someone inevitably interrupted the queen’s private time with her husband. “I met Rhoe and Evalin, once, many years ago. I remember Rhoe calling Evalin Fireheart.” 

Aelin stroked her thumb over the ruby of Rowan’s wedding band. “I never knew you met them.” I miss them, she murmured into his mind, muted grief shadowing her mind. 

“Just once.” Cupping his free hand under her chin, he tilted her face up and kissed her, soft and tender, a gesture of both love and comfort. “You are everything they dreamed Terrasen would be.” I’m entirely sure they’re smiling down on you from the afterlife, he added. 

“I love you,” she whispered. 

He touched his forehead to hers. “I love you too, Fireheart.”

~~~

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#my writing #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin month 2023 #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #ft aelin's parents because i said so #canon au #except we kinda ignored canon oopsies

[goddess-aelin]

Little Did I Know

Chapter 2- The Proposal

Masterlist

LDIK Masterlist

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: language. Mention of death

Aelin didn’t want to talk to anyone. Frankly, she didn’t want to see anyone, either. Lysandra and Elide had come to visit her a few times in the days following the ball but Aelin knew she was acting cold and closed-off. Meeting your probable-future-betrothed could do that to someone when they had no say in the matter. Darrow, too, spoke with her a few times but only to inform her that the lords insisted they go full steam ahead with the arranged marriage to Prince Whitethorn

But Aelin was a princess first and a human second, never being allowed to show her dissatisfaction. Which is why she allowed Lysandra to do her hair and makeup into her usual style and why she put on her peach colored, knee-length dress. There was to be a tea party today and the entirety of her court and nobles from all over Terrasen were going to be in attendance. The official reason was for Terrasen’s national holiday celebrating the start of the new year. While many celebrated the new year at midnight, Terrasen royals chose to spend it with a full-day celebration of music, tea, and late night bonfires out in the cold Orynth weather. Unofficially, however, it was a chance for her and Prince Rowan to be seen together. 

As far as Aelin knew, it was not official yet. She had signed no papers and had been told nothing about her official engagement to Prince Rowan. Yet the way Darrow talked, she knew a proposal was imminent. She wasn’t sure how Prince Rowan could propose, however, when they hadn’t been in the same room for more than a minute. She certainly wasn’t making it easy for him and for that she felt a certain amount of self satisfaction. If she was miserable, why shouldn’t he be, too? A small part of Aelin knew she wasn’t being fair. She was sure that he didn’t choose this just as she didn’t. But another, bigger and crueler part of her didn’t care. None of this was her fault. Darrow had told her she would have a choice and then just as quickly rescinded that offer and betrothed her to a stranger. 

Aelin had ample time to think about how Prince Rowan might treat her. Would he try to belittle her rule as a woman? Would he be cruel and condescending? Would he force her into things she wasn’t ready for like bearing a child? Or would he be sweet and caring like he was at the ball? Her knight in shining armor, always protecting her from life’s struggles and dangers? In which case, should she be worried that he would meet an untimely death just like her parents? Aelin wasn’t sure which one scared her more. That was why it was easier to keep him at arm's length. It’s the same reason why her past relationships ended before they began. The men in her life were always asking for too much. Too many things that she could not give to them, her heart being one of them. 

Aelin begrudgingly made her way down to the foyer of the palace. She would meet Darrow and Prince Rowan and from there, they would arrive at the party together. Aelin always enjoyed the celebration of the new year. Although she would rather attend something a bit more exciting, she enjoyed getting to spend time with her friends. She especially liked the bonfires at night, where anyone brave enough would dare to leap over the raging flames to bring luck in the new year. Aelin was always one of the first. 

As she approached the two men awaiting her arrival, she took in the stern, albeit beautiful, face of Prince Rowan. Though his features were hard, there was something vulnerable behind his eyes as green met turquoise. Something inside her softened. The same something that told her he could be her friend, if she chose to take that step.

But the brief hope of friendship was slashed when he barely spared Aelin a glance. She knew he was probably hurt from her reaction the other day. The day she found out that the beautiful stranger she danced with was actually her betrothed. Aelin didn’t exactly blame him for acting cold toward her when she had done the exact same to him. So she decided to swallow her pride and offer an olive branch.

“Prince Rowan.” Aelin bowed her head a little.

His eyes gave her a cursory glance before he muttered a gruff, “Princess.”

Aelin had to stop herself from clenching her jaw. Though it had been ten years, her mother’s voice echoed in her head, telling her that she was not being very princess-like. So she held her head high and tried again.

“Thank you for accompanying me today.” 

Rowan’s response was a simple dip of the head before he began walking away.

Fine. That’s how this was going to be then. Screw her mother’s voice. She wasn’t here and she never would be again. Aelin felt like clenching her jaw until her teeth broke. 

She didn’t glance at Darrow as she followed Rowan toward the grand ballroom. The party itself would be held inside but as the night wound down, most guests would don their elegant furs and make their way outside. 

Before entering the room, Darrow cleared his throat. “I know things are a little awkward at the moment, but we would like you two to show a unified front.” Aelin knew what that meant. He wanted them to hold hands, or at the very least escort each other inside. Since the prince was hesitating, Aelin bit the bullet and tucked her arm into his. Less intimate than intertwining their fingers. Less dangerous. 

Rowan led her into the ballroom, where all heads turned toward them. Aelin could already hear the whispers from various guests who didn’t know that the Prince of Doranelle and Princess of Terrasen were an item. The joke was on them because up until a few days ago, Aelin didn’t know it either. 

The party was a blur of introducing her escort, Prince Rowan Whitethorn, to various nobility. She didn’t know what else to call him. Her lover? Too familiar. Fiance? He certainly wasn’t quite yet. Betrothed? Calling him that would ruin the calculated ruse that this was a love match. The people of Terrasen did not need to know that this arrangement was, well… arranged. 

For a brief moment, the two found themselves alone. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” Aelin made her way to the refreshment table, which was, unfortunately, simply tea. Aelin poured two cups of the signature Terrasen Tea, brewed specially just for this event. She handed one saucer to the prince, hoping it would act as a sort of peace offering. Yet a grunt was all she got in thanks.

“Are you ever going to talk to me?” She half-whispered, half-hissed. She wouldn’t risk anyone overhearing, but the insolence was starting to get to her.

“Talk? Just like you talked to me when we officially met, Princess? I don’t recall you talking almost at all. Instead, you just ran away.”

Aelin took a deep breath to keep her temper under control. Now was not the time to have a heated argument and here was not the place. She took Prince Rowan’s hand and led him to the attached private gardens. To anyone else, she hoped it looked like two lovers stealing a moment for themselves. It was freezing cold but she thought maybe they needed that brisk, chilly air to cool their anger.  

“I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t mean to offend you by walking away. I just…I was just taken by surprise when it was you.” 

“Me? Am I that undesirable?”

Aelin let out a grunt of frustration. He was toying with her. “You know that’s not what I meant. If we’re going to air all of our grievances, how about the fact that you didn’t tell me who you were the night of the ball? How about the fact that you had been the best dance of the night, the only person who even looked at me with any ounce of respect, and you just…walked away. Just like that. Didn’t tell me who you were and instead let me see for myself the next day.” “I danced with you because I wanted to see if you were worth it.” Worth it?! Aelin let out a cold huff. “If I was ‘worth it?’ Wow, thanks so much.” 

Rowan let out a frustrated hiss. “I just mean that if I was to enter this…agreement, I wasn’t going in blind.”

“So you just wanted to make sure I was attractive to you? Going in blind? I’m so glad you get that benefit while I’m sold like cattle to the highest bidder.” 

“That’s not what I meant, either, and you know that.”

“Actually, I don’t know that. I don’t know you. I don’t know a single thing about you other than that you’re from Doranelle. So excuse me if I’m a little irritated about this whole, godsdamned situation.”  Aelin heaved in a shaky breath. She would not cry. She. Would. Not. Cry.  

“You think you’re the only one who was thrust into a shitty situation? Do you think I chose this? Because the joke’s on you, Princess. I sure as fuck did not. I’m a prince of Doranelle and because of that, I have a duty to do. My life, just like yours, was stolen from me. So do not talk to me like I have no idea what you’re going through.” Rowan’s chest was heaving by the time he was finished.

Aelin didn’t know what to say. She thought he had agreed to this. Darrow had told her he had agreed to this marriage. Aelin opened her mouth to say something but no words came. She couldn’t find them. And as time went on, Rowan’s face once again turned cold. The emotion from the past ten minutes vanished in a blink, the mask of Doranelle’s prince sliding back into place.     

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to say anything, Princess. And don’t worry, I won’t be backing out of our deal. I can’t. The marriage contract is already signed on my part.” And with those parting words, Rowan turned his back on her and walked away. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. The prince was nowhere to be found and Aelin gave anyone who asked the excuse that he wasn’t feeling well. A weak excuse, but it worked, nonetheless. By the time dinner was over, Aelin excused herself from the festivities and made her way to her room. Before she made it to the stairs, she walked past Darrow’s office, noticing the light was on. Of course he wasn’t at the ball and was instead working. Her uncle-in-law was dedicated, she’d give him that.

As she knocked gently and pushed open the door, noticing Darrow hunched over a batch of papers on his desk. The official Terrasen seal on the top page allowed her to know instantly what the papers were for. As if sensing her hesitation, Darrow put his pen down and rounded the desk to hold Aelin’s hands in his own. “Aelin. My dear. You don’t need to do this. You can abdicate and all of this can be over. I see how unhappy you are with the situation and I’m telling you now that Terrasen will be ok. We will all be ok.” 

A few tears fell as Aelin started shaking her head. “What kind of queen would I be if I quit before I even started? I cannot let Lord Hamel take the throne. I can’t do that, Darrow. Not because it’s what Uncle Orlon or my parents would want. But because I cannot. It’s not in my nature. It’s not in the way my parents raised me. And it’s not in the way you raised me, either. I’m doing this.” 

Darrow nodded and pulled away from her, sweeping his hand toward the papers on his desk. “I’ll give you the rundown of the contract later but the basics are that we have a trade agreement with Doranelle in exchange for Prince Rowan’s place on the throne. You, of course, will be Queen but he will be considered King Consort and would take the throne fully if anything would ever happen to you before any heirs were born. All in all, you could do much, much worse than Prince Whitethorn.”

Aelin picked up her pen. “I know,” she whispered. And as she dotted her “i’s,” Aelin felt a new, heavier burden on her shoulders. 

As she was falling asleep, Aelin’s last thought was that she didn’t even get to jump over any fires.

- - - - -

Aelin was awoken for the second day in a row by Lysandra. Breakfast was already on its way to her room and Lysandra had already picked a beautiful, flowy mint green dress for her to wear. Aelin was confused as to what was happening, her grogginess still lingering. 

“Up! Get up, Aelin! Prince Rowan would like to take you for a walk in the gardens.” 

Aelin froze. She was going to be sick. Because she knew exactly what a “walk in the garden” meant. She just didn’t think it would happen so soon after signing the marriage contract. Aelin didn’t say anything as Lysandra primped and prodded her, transforming her into the princess she should have felt like. 

Aelin met Prince Rowan in the foyer again, taking his arm instinctually.

He leaned down a little and murmured to her, “Please at least try to look happy.” 

If he could feel her trembling, he gave no indication.

As they entered the garden, Aelin could already see the paparazzi lined up, a perfect vantage point for what was about to happen.  She hoped she didn’t look like a deer caught in headlights but wasn’t sure she was able to fully build her royal facade back up.  She was nothing if not a great actress, though. 

So as Rowan knelt on one knee before her, presenting her with an extravagant diamond ring, she plastered the most dazzling, princess-y smile she could manage onto her face. It was as if all of her dreams were coming true, a real-life fairytale. Except this wasn’t a fairytale and most of Aelin’s dreams were nightmares. 

A/N: Yes, I did take Beltane and moved it to New Years Eve. Lol. This was a lot more angsty than anything I've ever written so I hope that came through. I don't want to make it easy for them but at the same time, I'm super impatient so I'm sure there won't be THAT much more angst.

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

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fic #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog fanfiction #tog fanfic #rowan whitethorn #Aelin galathynius #rowaelin au #ldik #my fics #my fic

[alice-bad-thoughts]

Day 1: Wolf of the North/Sword of Orynth

Warning: English is not my native language and sometimes I had to use a translator, so there will probably be some mistakes. This is also my first time posting something on Tumblr and participating in an event like this. I'm sorry. 2,589 words @throneofterrasen

Aedion ran a gloved hand over his breastplate. The metal was faded and slightly bent. Aedion could tell when he got every scratch on it, sometimes it was the only thing that saved him from falling, but right now there was no sound in his mind. It was noisy all around - his fey ears allowed him to hear far more than he needed to - but all sounds came to him like through water.

Aedion gripped his horse's reins tighter in his hand and raised his eyes to the approaching bulk of the glass castle. Somewhere to his right, Kyllian rode his gelding, rows of soldiers marched behind him, and just ahead the cavalry carried Adarlan flags. The combination of gold and red made Aedion feel his nausea intensify. Kyllian cast an oblique glance at his pale face, but said nothing. Aedion was grateful for his silence.

He focused on the honour guard approaching them. The soldiers stood at the gate to Rifthold and watched the military detachment just as closely. Aedion inwardly braced himself in preparation for a thorough inspection and furtively tried to comb the tangles in his hair with his fingers.

More than a month ago, high in the Staghorns Mountain, the Bane Legion had been overtaken by a royal messenger and informed that His Majesty wanted to see Aedion in the glass castle. Aedion twisted as soon as he left. And then several more times throughout the night. He still didn't know why he was here, and the further he travelled down the dirty and dangerously quiet streets of Rifthold the thoughts began to pound against his skull more and more violently.

Had the king learnt of his treason? Had he learnt that he had an admixture of Ashryver' fae blood in his blood? Had he learnt that Aedion had been draining almost all of his wages to help the rebels? They've finally decided to execute him? Now? After five years of Adarlan rule?

Aedion's blood boiled at the thought that he was about to see the man who had turned his life into a fucking ruin. Who had turned his home into ashes. Who had carved up his family. Orlon, Rhoe, Evalin and.... No. Not now.

He tried to stifle his anxiety by looking at the uneven cobblestones beneath his horse's hooves, the frightened faces in the dirty windows of the dilapidated houses, the peeling paint, the lead grey skies. Aedion was reminded of Orinth. That's roughly what it looked like now. Dilapidated, faded, with greyed white marble, once great. The difference was that even the royal castle looked like this, and in Rifthold only the outskirts looked like this. The houses and mansions in the centre were palaces in themselves. The faces of the people there were much happier and fuller.

Aedion knew at first sight that he would hate this city more than any other. And not just because it was the stronghold of the suffering of his people and many other innocent people. They were met by rows of royal guards in armour and shields.

Aedion's horse, white with long, warm hair, snorted and shook his head as the stable boy grabbed the reins. Aedion stroked his neck and jumped to the ground, Kyllian close behind. His silent confident presence calmed Aedion.

He thought that if they made it back to camp he would thank Kyllian in every way possible and be sure to get him a few days off from command.

Just so they could get back. Just to get back...

The Glass Castle was a strange and creepy place. From the outside, it looked empty and lifeless, like a long abandoned house. Impractically tall and grotesque. Also completely tasteless in Aedion's opinion.

As he stepped onto the red and gold carpets of the castle his stomach did a somersault and his guts knotted. He wasn't sure if it was just the feeling that the floor beneath him was about to collapse.

Aedion inwardly braced himself for the local monsters. He was already familiar with them. He wouldn't break.

A red marble floor, hundreds of candelabras with candles, half a dozen crystal chandeliers, a huge roaster and a glass wall above which the heavens rose.And there were four thrones on a platform. For the royal couple and two princes, one of whom was too young to attend the reception. The other was barely fifteen. Aedion felt some pleasure at the thought of being as much as four years older.

The hall was full of people in smart dresses and uniforms.

Jewels glittered in the ears and around the necks of the women. The armour of Aedion and his men did the same. He felt like a dirty yard dog that his masters had let into the house for warmth.

The dust of the road covered his face thickly, and he would have sold anything to wash his face and look less pathetic. There was a ringing silence as they entered, armour rattling in the hall. The music fell silent. Aedion's heart jumped first to his throat, then dropped to his heels and then lower, but outwardly he remained unperturbed. Kyllian bowed low and Aedion followed suit, feeling his whole body resist it. What would Rhoe think of him? And Aelin? She would probably disown him. How good it was that she couldn't see his shame.

"Stand up."

A wave of goosebumps ran down Aedion's back as he straightened up and raised his eyes to the man who had ruined his life and the lives of millions of others. Aedion experienced a painful attack of anger and vindictiveness. Stocky, broad, with dark eyes and a scar across his brow. At the king's belt gleamed the head of a wyvern, the hilt of sword Notung, and on his finger was a black ring. To his right sat a young boy with blue eyes and a crown tangled in his resinous curls. Dorian Havillird so unlike his father. Crown Prince of the bloody Adarlan Empire. On the king's left hand sat a beautiful woman of age with brown hair and a slightly arrogant expression, the current queen of this evil empire.

Aedion experienced another bout of nausea. Gods, he himself would die here right now, he wouldn't even need the gallows. He stared straight in front of him, trying to calm his heart, ready to burst out of his chest.

"We are all gathered here today to celebrate a great event,"

Aedion could hear his commanders' hearts beating frequently. He was almost choking on the stench of terror that surrounded their squad. All of these brave men were rebels too. They too would be sent to the scaffold following him. It was his fault. He was the one who had incited them through manipulation and blackmail to join the conspirators. Some of them had families. They're coming for them, too. Gods, he felt so guilty in front of them, but he didn't mean any harm, did he? He just wanted freedom. Just freedom...

"Six months ago, there was a brutal battle with rebel rats near Illium, which was suppressed with the help of the forces of the Bane Legion, albeit with heavy losses." The King continued evenly. He was clearly savouring this news.

Aedion shuddered inwardly. That battle they had failed to play out. They had indeed killed a great many rebels. He still felt like he had their scarlet blood on his hands for weeks afterwards. He had almost torn his nails out when the dark fringe of dirt beneath them hadn't completely peeled away. He hadn't sobbed like that in a very long time. Kyllian helped him ease that pain. Gods preserve this marvellous man. He was the only reason Aedion hadn't lost his mind.

For his and Terrasen's sake alone, Aedion was still as unperturbed as ever and even allowed himself a slight smug smile, though deep inside he wanted to scream.

"Until a couple of months ago, under the command of tribune Ashryver, the dangerous unrest of the savage peoples in the Whiteface Mountains was quelled."

The court ladies began to fan themselves with greater care and glared at Aedion. He tried to ignore them and stare straight ahead. He wanted to cower in the deepest, darkest corner of the room if only they would stop staring at him. He'd been stared at his whole life. How tired he was of it. He was tired of it.

They didn't really have to fight. The unrest of the locals in the mountains was also just part of the rebellion, allowing some of the armoury to be smuggled from The Western Weasts to Allsbrook unnoticed. Aedion wasn't sorry if it served as a reason for his execution. They had managed to get a lot of armour and swords, as well as leaving a few squads of recruits in the mountains to be trained there and then slowly join the Bane afterwards.

If they all died today, their cause would live on. It was the last consolation for him, though he knew he could not forgive himself for it.

He would not forgive himself for the deaths of Reeve, Mengr, Gastro, and Briane. He would not forgive himself for Kyllian's death. He would live to lead their rebellion if Aedion died. Aedion's fingers twitched faintly at the hilt of his sword and dagger. He was ready to snatch them up at any second.

"And that's only a fraction of what this nineteen-year old young man has done, gentlemen. Worthy of praise, is it not? " The king looked round at the hushed courtiers. The prince seemed to look slightly ashamed.

The world around Aedion shook. He felt the ground go from under his feet. What?

"Our valiant The Bane General - Aigie Bayer has expressed his wish to resign," Aedion's heart skipped a beat. A lie. Aige was only forty-seven, and they had only recently talked about Bayer going to make some reforms in the Legion.

Aedion knew that Aige was no longer alive. It was probably the last time he'd seen him in the mountains, and it wouldn't be long before he was killed. His heart was torn to shreds and he wanted to collapse on the floor and howl with grief right there. Kyllian swayed slightly towards Aedion to remind him that he was near.

"So he needs to find a replacement," The King smiled thinly and Aedion's blood ran cold in his veins. "And I thought it would be perfectly reasonable to offer the post of general to such a promising young man."

The whole world froze, then came to a standstill. The courtiers murmured unhappily, and a few indignant uproarings were heard from the military generals. Prince Dorian turned his head sharply towards his father, the queen flinched almost imperceptibly. Aedion knew what they all thought of him.

He was an illegitimate bastard. A man with a dash of Ashryver fae blood. An unrecognised prince of Wendlin. A stranger not only to Terrasen, but to all of Erilea. An Adarlan whore in every sense of the title. A bloodthirsty murderer. He was a traitor to his family in the eyes of almost the whole world.

He didn't blame them because he thought so himself.

"What do you think, boy? " The King asked, hearing his thoughts. His dark eyes dug into Aedion and almost skinned him alive along with all the lies he told. "Do you accept the title of general-king of the Legion of Bane, Aedion Ashryver? " His name the King said almost syllabically.

Aedion felt both bad and good at the same time. Relief almost drowned him. Grief threatened to crush him. General. The king was going to make him general of almost the entire army of Therassen and thus further unleash him. To think he hadn't realised what a gift he was giving Aedion.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I accept the title." He forced himself to his knees and bowed his head to the accompaniment of clanking armour. His commanders knelt down after him.

"Well then, stand up General Ashryver. Today we celebrate your appointment."

Gastro on Aedion's left let out a convulsive breath. Kyllian on his right slumped his shoulders in slight relief. The music started up again. A forced applause was heard. And overly broad smiles from the ladies of the court. Aedion was disgusted not only by their glances, but also by those of the generals who had been summoned to the court. Some of them Aedion knew far more intimately than he would have liked. He suppressed an internal shudder and grinned cheekily at Kyllian, as if he knew in advance why they had been summoned.

"And in honour of your appointment, my boy, I have a question," The courtiers fell silent again and the orchestra played quieter. "What do you wish as a gift for your services? An estate, perhaps? Or a new gelding? "

Brien beside him stirred. The councillors muttered indignantly, and the queen turned sharply to her consort. This was too much.

It took Aedion a few seconds to collect his thoughts and say something intelligible.

"Don't misunderstand, Your Majesty," Aedion coughed and put a hand to his heart. "But I have everything one could wish for. My new appointment is already a great gift, for which I thank you." Aedion bowed once more and drew air into his chest. This request would be an impertinence even for him.

The king was silent. Kyllian tensed and slowly turned his head towards Aedion. His face instantly lost all colour. Reeve tried to discreetly kick Aedion's shin, but he looked directly into the King's eyes and finished "The only thing I dare ask of you is..."

"Aedion, no! " Kyllian hissed at him in horror.

"Give me back the Sword of Orynth. " The hall exploded with shouts of indignation. Several glasses shattered. One of the councillors rushed to the platform with the thrones. The prince's eyes widened and the queen clutched at her heart.

The king only smirked and y. He waved his hand, ordering everyone to shut up. Aedion thought he was going to faint.

"Well then, my boy. You want this toy, then you shall have it."

Aedion's legs nearly buckled in relief. He bowed hastily and couldn't contain his first real smile of the day. Kyllian beside him groaned.

The king could not have imagined the importance the sword of Orinth had to any Terrasenian. He had no idea the power he had just given to Aedion.

***

Aedion closed the door of his chambers and leaned his back against it. The smile he had been wearing all evening slipped from his face. He slowly moved to the floor, clutching the sword of Orinth in his right hand painfully. The sword of his uncle who had replaced his father. The sword Aelin was to inherit.

Aedion covered his mouth with his hand, feeling the burning hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them. He felt like he was defiling that sword with his touch alone.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered into the darkness, not knowing who he was addressing exactly.

Aedion was falling apart, and nothing could keep him from collapsing.

So he became the youngest general in the history of Erilea.

#aedion ashryver #aedion ashryver week #Aedion week #throne of glass

[acourtofcouture]

An Insider’s Guide to Terrasen: the Palace of Orynth, 1/?

#throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #the assassin's blade #throne of glass series #tog #an insider's guide to terrasen #the palace of orynth #palace of orynth #the royal palace of orynth #royal palace of orynth #orynth #terrasen #queen of terrasen #aelin #aelin ashryver #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #queen aelin #aelin of the wildfire #aelin x rowan #rowan whitethorn #princess of terrasen #erilea #sarah j maas #fireheart

[tomtenadia]

12 Days of Rowaelin - day 3

Day 3 already!

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

Well, now you can enjoy the fic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Follow me prince Whitethorn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

She shook her head to dispel the thought.

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

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

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

“It’s a tradition isn’t it?”

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

“I met the prince from Doranelle.” 

“And?”

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

“Good looking, eh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No interest in young prince Havilliard?”

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

“And you like the prince already?”

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

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

Aelin laughed and went back stuffing her face.

***

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

“I heard the Doranelle prince is hot.”

“Who told you.”

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

Aelin laughed.

“He likes this guy more than me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The three women laughed and finished getting dressed.

**

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

“What does that mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have a knife. She’d better not.”

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

“I think my mum approves of you.”

“Your dad doesn’t though.”

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

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

“Have you ever had glögg?”

Rowan shook his head.

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

“It’s hot.”

“That’s the point.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

“It looks beautiful.”

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

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

“I can always teach you.”

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

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

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

When they eventually separated they were both breathless.

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

“It depends…”

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

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

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

“Look,” said Aelin pointing at the sky.

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

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

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

“I want you to stay, Rowan.”

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

As Rowan held her he realised his words rang true. 

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

TAGS:

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

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

[cloudywriter]

the lost princess of terrasen

rowaelin month - september 7th 

prompt: fairytale au - (an anastasia au in this case)

important: okay y’all so i went way overboard with this entire au and it got out of hand so now this might just be a full-blown thing. however, with that whole releation and me going crazy with outlining and writing i could really only have this much of the story out and ready for today but i plan on continuing it!! hopefully after rowaelin month. enjoy this little introduction :)

(cw: brief descriptions of violence) 

masterlist, AO3

~~~

At freshly 18, Celaena Sardothien was free. She’d aged out of the orphanage and was finally released to go live her own life, no longer held down in the outskirts of Rifthold. Celaena didn’t want to wait a second longer, the need to leave the horrid place she’d lived the last ten years was ingrained in her bones. 

The woman who ran the orphanage, Clarisse, was cruel. From a young age, she poked at Celaena, commenting constantly on her weight or how she didn’t act like a proper young lady. Her entire life up until this point was spent at the mercy of Clarisse and her stern ways. All the girls in the orphanage were treated as maids and dolls for Clarisse to manipulate. But, Celaena made it, counting down the days until her birthday. 

Now, here she was, stuck out in the cold. She’d imagined her freedom to be more alluring than this instead she was shaking as she wandered through side streets that led to the heart of Rifthold. She carried with her a backpack barely full of her meager belongings and the too-thin coat on her back. Clarisse didn’t even spare her a hat to keep out the cold so she moved her hair to shield her freezing ears the best she could and waddled along the snowy pavement. 

She still had her kingsflame necklace around her neck, though, and that’s all that mattered. Where she had gotten it from she hadn’t a clue. The first memory she possessed was waking up in the very orphanage that would become her prison. Clarisse explained to her that she’d hit her head and a nice man named Arobynn had brought Celaena to Clarisse to be cared for. Clarisse questioned her about her family and upbringing relentlessly but Celaena could not recall a thing. Her mind was blank. For many nights as a young girl, she’d sit upright in the creaky, lumpy bed she occupied and willed herself to remember. She’d cry and scream, banging her fists into her head in frustration when nothing ever surfaced. 

The only connection she had to whatever life she lived before was her kingsflame necklace. And she’d follow that kingsflame to the ends of the continent if it meant she’d one day solve the mystery of her existence. 

Which led her to the first stop on her journey of discovery, Terrasen. Once Celaena had accepted that her memories weren’t coming back and this was the life she’d have to lead she adjusted. She served Clarisse and went to the small, dilapidated school down the street with the other orphans. There she discovered her love of books and the meager library the school offered became her sanctuary. It was there while she read a book on the kingdoms on Erilea, hoping something would strike her familiar she learned that kingsflame flowers only bloomed in one place, the capital of Terrasen, Orynth. 

As a child that discovery was a revelation. Terrasen. Maybe she was from Terrasen. 

As Celaena walked she felt her toes growing increasingly numb, Adarlan’s winters were bitter and she was not equipped with the proper wear. Her teeth chattered but she pushed forward, she needed to get passage to Terrasen. 

She drew the map out of the pocket of her coat once again and checked the status of her journey. Only a little longer until she was at Rifthold’s main dock station. 

The city of Rifthold was big and Celaena felt out of her depth as groups of people swarmed the streets walking to and from their different destinations. It was overwhelming, the smells, the tall buildings, the weather, the noise, the sheer number of people, everything. 

Eventually, she saw the lights of the station and she blew a sigh of relief, she hadn’t been very confident in her ability to read a map. She approached a man sitting in a booth behind a sheet of glass, smoking a cigarette. 

Celaena stepped up to the counter. 

“Hello, sir, I’d like to buy a ticket to Orynth,” she gave him a smirk, leaning casually on the box. She’d learned from many years of coexisting with Clarisse and a revolving door of people that to make it through life you needed a mask. Celaena had crafted her mask carefully and had perfected her act after so many years. She exuded arrogance and confidence so that another soul would never see the scared, lost little girl she truly was. 

The man grunted, blowing a puff of smoke from between his cracked lips. “Do you have your papers, girl?”

Her brain stalled. Papers? She cleared her throat, “papers?”

“Yes,” his scratchy voice replied, “you need papers to cross the border.” 

Celaena’s heart sank but she kept her expression neutral. “Well, I-”

“Listen, girl, I’m not going to sit here and waste your time so don’t sit here and waste mine. If you don’t have the right documents then I can’t sell you a ticket, simple as that,” he held the cigarette between his teeth. 

She searched for some way to turn this situation around, chewing on her bottom lip. 

From the shadows a little ways into the dark alley adjacent to the docks, she heard a hissed whisper. “You, blondie,” an old woman emerged slightly from the shadows, beckoning Celaena forward with her index finger.  

Celaena looked around, the man in the booth was already back to ignoring her, his nose stuck in a newspaper so she decided to approach the woman. She didn’t have much to lose and Celaena thought if it went south she could take her. 

Celaena crept closer, tightening her grip on the strap of her backpack. 

“You need papers?” Her voice was hoarse as if her throat was made of sandpaper. Celaena nodded her head keeping her guard up, watching her surroundings out of her peripheral. 

“I know who can get you some,” her face morphed into a slight smile that unsettled Celaena more than anything. Celaena furrowed her brows, “who?” The woman tsked at her, her hot breath forming a cloud in front of her face. 

“That kind of information isn’t free, my dear.” Celaena had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, everything came with a price in this world. 

Celaena reached around to the side pocket of her backpack, fishing out a few coins she had to spare. She’d saved just enough from doing odd jobs to pay her fare to Terrasen. She deposited the coins into the palm of the old woman’s hand, her knobby fingers running along their smooth edges. 

“Go a few streets north and into the red brick warehouse with the large windows, you can’t miss it. Ask for a Mr. Rowan Whitethorn, he’ll get you the papers,” she instructed, hoarding the scant sum of money she was given as though they were priceless heirlooms. Celaena turned her head in the direction the woman directed as if she could spot the warehouse from here and by the time she rounded back the woman had disappeared once again. 

Celaena huffed and shot another glance at the ticket man, he was still paying no attention, tapping his cigarette out with his finger. She didn’t necessarily want to go on a wild goose chase to obtain these papers but she had no other way of getting them so she breathed deeply and shoved her hands into her pockets and twisted north. 

The woman was right about not being able to miss the warehouse. It was a large, old, imposing structure, clearly, it had not been in use for some time now. Celaena crept closer peering into the foggy windows as she passed the front of the building. She couldn’t see anything and was unconvinced she’d find the elusive ‘Rowan Whitethorn’ inside. 

Nonetheless, she approached a rusting metal door on the side and pushed it open with her gloved hand. The door protested but it miraculously opened revealing a wide area stacked high with boxes along the walls and corners.

She ventured further into the space, dust and broken glass crunching beneath her boots. She didn’t see any signs of life besides maybe some rats. As she neared the opposite corner what could’ve been a makeshift sitting area came into view, blocked from view initially by a stack of boxes. She approached noting the circle of crates, a dusty blanket, and a few books piled on the side. 

She peered at the title of the book on the top of the stack. 

The Royal Family of Terrasen. Mixed emotions surged through her body. 

“Who’s in here?” A male voice boomed nearly rattling the windows. Celaena shuttered, letting her bravo fill her bones as she heard a set of footsteps enter the space. 

+++ 

Rowan Whitethorn’s life since the fall of Terrasen and the reign of the Valg had been a hell-hole, to put it bluntly. His family fell out of status, his parents were slain in the ambush on Orynth’s castle, and Rowan was left in an unfamiliar land at twelve years old. 

A sect of the Whitethorn house had been visiting Terrasen’s court for the holidays when Maeve made her move against the continent. Doranelle crumpled first to her rule and Terrasen followed, the army of Valg she’d amassed was too large to stand against. Adarlan only survived because King Dorian bowed down to Maeve. 

Even now at twenty-two, he has nightmares about that evening. The terror he felt as Valg poured into the ballroom and slaughtered the royals. The terror he saw in the princess of Terrasen’s eyes as she was shoved into the kitchens by her nursemaid where Rowan had happened to take shelter as well. He was scared too, running as soon as his father screamed at him to as the Valg slit his throat. He regretted it deeply, leaving like a coward when the palace was invaded. He regretted the cowering he did in the kitchens as well but when the young princess had burst in the doors, tears flowing freely down her cheeks something had come over him. He had pushed her out into the snow yelling at her to run and she did, scrambling to find her footing.

The rest was a blur, the Vlag hurried into the kitchens soon after but somehow Rowan made it out with his life. The same could not be said for many people in the castle that night. 

Now, Rowan lived in Rifthold as a thief and doer of other’s dirty work. He longed for the day he could get out of this city of nightmares crawling with Valg. One day, he promised himself, one day he’d have to funds to make it back to Wendlyn and witness what had become of his home. 

There was an opportunity, though, that’d heard about from whispers on the streets. Aedion Ashryver. One of the few survivors from Terrasen’s downfall. He chosen to stay in Terrasen’s territory afterward, the country had no real structured ruling now. The old King-Consort Darrow was the closest thing there was to a king but from what he’d gathered the man is old and weak, not the same after the death of his husband, King Orlon. Terrasen had virtually crumbled. 

Somehow, Aedion had built up the Bane and gained standing for himself. A standing he was using to campaign to find his long-lost cousin. How Maeve hadn’t gotten wind of Aedion and his plotting and squashed him, Rowan wasn’t sure. Nevertheless, Aedion was offering a hefty reward for the return of his dear Aelin, the nation’s true queen, convinced she was still alive.

Rowan thought the operation was useless. Her body was never found, that was true, but he imagined she’d likely fled into the Oakwald forest and perished from hypothermia not long after. If he could make a pretty penny from returning the ‘princess’ to Aedion, though, he wasn’t above doing so. 

All Rowan needed was a young, blonde, and blue-eyed woman he could convince to join his cause and he could coach her to be the perfect replacement for Aelin. Truthfully, he wasn’t convinced this could ever be achieved but it was something he’d contemplated. 

Rowan was making his way back to the warehouse he liked to operate his more shady business out of, the biting cold seeping into his clothes. The looming, muddy red-brick building came into view and he pushed the frosted metal door open. Immediately, he was aware that someone had invaded his space. 

Small footsteps had disrupted the layer of dusk along the floor. His hand flew to the dagger strapped to his chest as he prowled further inside. 

“Who’s in here?” he called out, gripping the dagger tightly by its handle. Once he got far enough into the space he could see a young woman was standing near his makeshift seats.

The first thing he noticed was she was beautiful. Long, golden blonde hair flowed down her shoulders, her skin was pale and her lips had a blue tint to them. Rowan pushed aside all those unsavory thoughts, she was an intruder after all. However, he couldn’t help but study her, she was dressed far too light for the dead of winter, not even a hat on her head. 

She looked right back at him, accessing him as he was her. She didn’t look scared to have been caught trespassing, no, honestly, she looked annoyed as if he was interrupting her. 

“Who the hell are you?”

~~~

let me know if y’all like it so far and would like to see more, xoxo

#rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #aedion ashryver #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin month #rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction

[house-of-galathynius]

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

I think I need to change the blurb of this fic as Maeve is kinda getting in the way a tiny bit 😅 This is the last update for today, I’m working on the next chapter as we speak but I have a busy weekend so there may not be an update until Monday. 

@jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @tomtenadia @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @fredweasleyhasadhd @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival @becarefuloflove @tanvee1231 @viajandosinalas

Chapter Twenty-One ~ Just a Consequence 

Chapter Twenty ~ Chapter Twenty-Two

Sam, Aedion and Lysandra were gathered around the small dining room table above the library. When she entered they stopped their game and looked to her. 

Aelin was shivering from the cold, her windswept hair in knots around her, her face red and blotchy from the tears she had cried on the way here. 

“What is it?” 

Aedion strode to her, his hands resting on her shoulders. 

“It’s Rowan. I— I need to go somewhere and I need your help.” 

Lysandra made her way over to her. Her friend looked concerned, but listened as Aelin relayed the story to the three of them. None of them said a word as tears started to spill down her face, as she begged them for their help; pleading with them not to stop her. 

“I’ll help you.” Sam had remained at the table, but when she had finished speaking and tried to catch her breath, he had stood and held her hand in his own. “What do you need?” 

She did not think as she threw her arms around Sam and sobbed into his shoulder. “Thank you.” The words no more than a whisper.

“What can we do?” Lysandra asked. 

“I’m meeting Fenrys at the gates of Orynth tonight. I need one of you to deliver a package of food and some clothes for the both of us. When I return to the palace this afternoon I won’t be left alone, or at least there will be too many eyes on me to do anything myself. Orlon know’s I’ll try something so they’ll be watching me.” She paced the floor. “There’s not much to do, I just need supplies for the journey.” 

The three of them nodded and agreed they would help in whatever way they could. She told them the drop spot where Fenrys would pick up the supplies and then they fell into silence. 

Aedion gestured for Aelin to follow him. They huddled into the small washroom and closed the door behind them. 

“What you’re doing is incredibly dangerous, Aelin. Orlon wouldn’t lie about something like this, if you die—“

“If I die, I need you to offer to be the new heir. You have the experience, you have a royal bloodline— you’ve been in every lesson I have, you know Terrasen as well as I do. I just need you to trust me.” Aelin paused. “Do you think I want to die? I am going to do everything in my power to get Rowan back with as little damage as possible.” 

“And what if Orlon revokes your claim on the throne when you return?” 

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. But I cannot sit here and wait for Rowan to be killed. I cannot bear the thought of not trying to save him. He is my mate and we promised we would find one another no matter what. I cannot live in this world without him Aedion.” 

He nodded. “I understand.” 

“Can you tell my parents I’m sorry?” 

Aedion nodded. “Of course.” 

“My mother will be heartbroken. And my father will be angry that I disobeyed a kings command. But I need them to know that I’m sorry and I love them and that when I return I will make up for this in any way I can.” 

“I’ll make sure to tell them.” 

She embraced Aedion, squeezing him in closer. “I love you Aedion.” She pressed her face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m doing this to you.” 

“She’s not even my mate, but if Lysandra was in danger I would do the same thing.” They broke apart. “Please come back to us.” 

She smiled. “I’ll try.” 

They exited the washroom and Lysandra was waiting for her as they did. She scooped Aelin into a big hug, her face tucking into the crook of her neck. 

“This baby needs their Auntie Aelin. So you better get back here safe, otherwise when I join you in the afterlife there will be hell to pay.” 

The women shed tears, their sniffles the only noise to be heard as they embraced for a while longer. When they finally let go, Aelin wiped her tears and looked to Sam. He stood at the edge of the room, his posture slouched and eyes sad as he watched her. 

Lysandra and Aedion took it as their time to leave and padded down the stairs. 

“I’m sorry.” She approached him, setting herself on the wooden dining chair. “I know how unfair me coming here is.”

“You have to do what you feel is best.” He shrugged.

“He’s my mate, I can’t let him die.” 

“I know.” 

“I would do the same for you, Sam.”

“You don’t have to say things like that. I am not under any illusion about our relationship. You found someone who is your soulmate and you’re connected in a way which I can’t comprehend. You do not have to make me feel better by saying things like that.”

“I’m not saying it to make you feel better. I love you Sam and I always will.” 

He smiled sadly at her. “Please come back safe.” 

Aelin nodded. “But if I don’t, please look after yourself.” 

“I’ll do my best.” 

Sam’s eyes turned watery and he turned away from her. Aelin could see him wipe his face, she did the same with her own tears that were falling. 

“I should go back. I need to finish off some things.” 

Sam nodded and she hesitated beside him before curling her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. He didn’t hesitate to reciprocate and they held each other for a moment before letting go. 

“I’ll see you.” 

Lysandra and Aedion were perched on a pair of stools by a trolley of books. They stopped their conversation when Aelin approached. 

“I’ve got to go back.” 

Lysandra started to cry. 

“I’m not going to be alone, Lys. I’ll have four of the best warriors with me, I also have my magic and I’ve had some training, Maeve doesn’t stand a chance.” 

She hiccuped. “I need you to come back, okay?” 

“I promise I will.” 

She gave them both long hugs, Lysandra gripping Aelin’s shirt, refusing to let go. Aedion walked her out of the library and she turned to give it another look. She could see Sam in the top window and she lifted a hand in farewell, him returning the gesture. 

“Will I see you at dinner?”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t leave Lys. I also can’t lie if Orlon asks me anything.” 

Aelin nodded. “I understand. I’ll say goodbye here then. Try to look after everyone whilst I’m gone.” 

“I’ll do what I can.” 

She nodded. “I’ll see you soon, Aedion.” 

He gave her a half smile and watched her walk away. 

~ 

Back at the palace Aelin was greeted by her mother and father. They were waiting by the main doors, troubled looks on their faces. When her mother spotted her, she let out a cry of relief and ran down the steps to Aelin. 

“I was starting to worry you had gone.” 

Aelin gave a tightlipped smile. “Orlon forbade me from leaving Orynth. I went to see Lysandra and Aedion.” 

She kept walking, her mother keeping pace with her. 

“Do you want to talk about it? Your father and I are here for you, Fireheart. This can’t be easy on you and—“ 

She halted. “What is there to say? I’m devastated and hurting. Orlon is telling me to let my mate die so that he can preserve the royal line. He doesn’t understand the pain that I will be in if anything happens to Rowan. If Rowan dies, it’s on Orlon.” She continued her march towards her rooms. 

“Orlon is just trying to protect you. You are important to him, if something were to happen to you, it would tear him apart.” 

She ignored her mothers words. She could still hear them both following her to her rooms, and she knew she would not get rid of them quickly. 

“I’m done talking about this. I want to be left alone.” 

She slammed the door in their faces and flinched. Hurting her parents was painful, especially when she would be leaving and did not know when or if she would return.

She paced her room for a while, trying to feel anything through the bond. She sent pulses of raw emotion and tried to convey that she was coming for him, that she was not going to let him be left alone. She felt nothing except that tugging back. She hoped that it was Rowan, that he was the one pulling her towards him— not Maeve playing some sick game. If Maeve was as powerful as Orlon had said then even with her magic and the magic of the four others, it was a long shot they would win. But she wouldn’t give up. Rowan was her mate and she had promised him forever, and she was not going to let it end now. 

Aelin paced for a while longer before eventually sitting at her desk and pulled out blank parchment and her ink. She stared at the pieces of parchment for a while before she finally found the words she wanted to say. 

The first two letters were to her parents. She struggled to find the words for a while. She had too many things she needed to say, too many emotions to convey. She settled with apologising to them both, explaining that Rowan had become one of the most important people in her life and living without him would come to destroy her. She made her intentions to return alive clear and when she did return she would take any punishment that was given to her. 

It felt bittersweet writing what felt like farewell letters. The guilt seeped into her as she thought of their pain at what her loss. Although the selfish side of her countered that they would only live with their loss for less than eighty years… her loss would be with her for a millennia. 

The final letter was to Orlon. The words didn’t come as easy for him. Whilst he had been kind to her since she was born and showed an obvious softness for her, he had always been firm and tried to maintain a boundary between them. She told him she knew she was disappointing him, that if she returned she would forever pay for her disobedience— but hoped that he could understand why she was leaving and what it meant to her to try and rescue Rowan. 

She sealed all the letters and scrawled their names on the front of them, leaving them in the centre of her desk. 

Aelin looked at the engagement ring that she had forgotten to put on that morning. It sat in it’s case on her bedside table. She wanted to put it on, the feeling of it resting on her finger would be a comfort. But it was too precious to her, if she lost it or broke it, she would never forgive herself. So she tucked it away in a draw for safe-keeping. Perhaps if she didn’t return, Lysandra would take it for herself and if her baby was a daughter, she could give it to them eventually. 

Time seemed to pass slowly. She picked up books and put them back down again, she made and remade her bed ten times before finally lying down on it and staring up at the ceiling. She went over her plan for this evening hundreds of times, playing out every scenario she could think of. She prayed to all the Gods that she would make it there safely, that Rowan would still be alive. 

She didn’t remember when the sun had gone down, but the room had been bathed in darkness, the remnants of daylight long gone. 

There was a knock at her door and she sat up in bed. 

“Come in.” 

Elspeth peeked her head into the room. “Dinner is ready in the dining room. His majesty asked if you would be joining them?”

Aelin slipped off the bed and nodded. “I’ll be down in a moment.”

Elspeth loitered a second longer before speaking. “I’m sorry… about Rowan. I hope that he will come back safely.” 

“Thank you.” 

The door closed again and Aelin let out a breath. She looked in the mirror and cringed at her appearance, but she didn’t make an effort to rectify it. She threw her hair over her shoulder and left her rooms. 

The dining room was quiet when she entered. The only sounds coming from the clink of cutlery on the plates. She sat at her place and thanked the server as they placed the food before her. 

She ate in silence for a while, savouring the taste of the meal. She didn’t know when she would get something like this again. 

After a while, Orlon forcefully placed his fork on his plate— making everyone flinch. 

“Can everyone please leave the room.” Orlon spoke to the servers and palace staff who were stood by the walls. Each one of them bowed low before exiting and leaving the four of them alone. 

Aelin continued to scoop little bites of food into her mouth. 

“I know you are displeased with my decision, but do not think it was one I made lightly. I know how much Rowan means to you, I know that there is a chance you will lose your mate. But you are the most important thing to me Aelin. You are the pride of this family and to this country. Losing you would be the greatest loss we could endure and I am trying to avoid that.” 

She didn’t respond. 

“Losing Rowan will be a devastating ordeal and we will all be here for you if it happens.” 

The bond went taut at the thought. She still did not say a word. 

“I have also decided that if the worst was to happen and we were to lose Prince Rowan. I am going to try and remove the law that says you must marry before becoming queen.” 

“How noble of you.” She sniped. 

Her father tutted and her mother’s eyes widened at her tone. 

“Don’t make me the villain, Aelin. Sometimes you have to make hard decisions that will not be welcomed by people, but that is part of being a ruler. I do not take the decision I made today lightly. I understand there will be consequences, but I also understand that what I save is greater than those consequences.” 

She scraped her chair across the floor and stood abruptly. “I am not one of your subjects, Orlon. I am your family.” She tried to calm her erratic breathing. “It baffles me how can you sit there and make Rowan’s death sound like some sort of inevitability. How you sit there and truly believe there is nothing to be done about this. Or how you can possibly expect me to just take this sitting down and move on like he was just some summer fling.” 

“Sit down, Aelin.” Her fathers voice was stern. 

She ignored her father. “Rowan is my Gods-damned mate. The person who see’s every part of me and does not feel scared. He is everything I have ever needed or wanted and I will not let you sit there and tell me that he is just a consequence.” 

She threw her napkin down. 

“If Rowan dies then I will not survive it. I do not want to live in a world where he does not exist. Do you understand? You might as well be signing my death warrant by stopping me.” 

Everyone was silent as Aelin stood there. Tears streamed down her face, her chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“I understand your frustrations and your fear Aelin. The death of a loved one—“ 

She laughed a bitter laugh. “You have no idea. None of you do. None of you have ever had a mate, none of you have ever connected so deeply with someone that their life entwines with yours so completely that it is impossible to even think about losing them; because if you do it feels like the earth is crumbling around you, it feels like there is nothing but darkness and sorrow and so much pain.” She looked right at Orlon. “Don’t you dare tell me you understand, because you don’t. You never will.” 

Her mother was crying now too. 

“I’m sorry, Aelin.” 

“If you were truly sorry you would let me go and get him.”

Orlon looked pained. “I can’t let you do that. You know I can’t.” 

“Then I have nothing more to say.” 

She stormed from the dining room all the way up to her rooms where she slammed the door behind her and fell onto her bed. 

She wanted to scream, wanted to shout at the world. She wanted to let her flame roar around her. But she kept silent, her tears a steady force. 

“Fireheart?” Her mother peeked around the door and deemed it safe to enter.  

“Go away.”

Her mother ignored her and perched on the edge of the bed, her hand going to Aelin’s back rubbing soothing circles. 

“I know that you’re going.” Evalin’s voice was soft as she spoke.

Aelin peeked a glance at her mother. “How?”

“You’re my daughter. I know you well enough to know that you would not let this go.”

She sniffed. “How can I let it go? He’s in danger and Orlon just wants to let him die. If Maeve is that desperate for me, do you really think she’ll stop with Rowan?”

Evalin shook her head. “He’s scared for you Aelin. He loves you and doesn’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“I can promise that losing Rowan and living in a world where he does not exist will bring me more pain than dying a thousand deaths.” 

Her mother tried to hide her flinch. “When do you plan to leave?” 

“Tonight. I’m meeting Fenrys at the gates of Orynth at midnight.” 

“Maeve is manipulative. She will use anything she can against you. She also doesn’t play fair, she will do whatever it takes to get what she wants, and she will not let anything stand in her way. You have to be prepared for that. Your magic is strong, but it might not be enough.” 

Aelin nodded. “Fenrys used to be close to her when she was still queen. He knows enough about her that we can try and use against her.” 

“I don’t like this one bit, but I know why you have to do it.” 

“It’s not like I want to die. I plan to walk out of there alive and with Rowan.” 

“I want you to come back too, Fireheart.” Her mother crawled further onto the bed and gathered Aelin in her arms. “Please come home to me.” 

Aelin buried her face in the crook of her mothers neck, her next words muffled. “I will.” 

The two of them held each other until her mother dozed off. She glanced outside, the moon was high in the sky and she knew it was time. She tucked her mother under a blanket and left a kiss on her forehead. She lingered a moment longer before turning away. She hastily changed into her training gear and stashed a couple of daggers she had swiped from the training room a few months ago into the holster around her waist. Winter was brutal in Terrasen so she threw on her overcoat and boots and gave her mother one last glance. 

She had snuck out of the castle hundreds of times before to see Sam, tonight was not going to be any different. She was quiet sneaking through the back halls of the palace and out of the back door into the gardens. She made her way to the river which was frozen solid. She slid her way across careful not to fall as she did. Aelin did not turn back as she jogged away from the palace. She focused on the trail ahead of her and slipped away into the inky blackness of the night. 

#throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #sarah j maas #sjm #sjmaas #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan whitethorn galathynius #aelin ashryver #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #aelin and rowan #rowan and aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #lysaedion #lysandra #aedion ashryver #sam cortland

[pen-paper-and-ink]

Champagne Problems

Chapter Two

Masterlist

Aelin Galathynius was tired, but that was what you got when you decided to wake up at six in the morning. Aelin doesn’t remember how Rowan convinced her that 6:30 was a perfectly acceptable time to run in the morning, or how six a.m. really wasn’t thatearly, but she despised him for it.  She knew that was a lie, that she adored Rowan, but every time her alarm goes off, she can’t help but silently curse her best friend.  

Aelin was not a morning person.  One of the only ways she could actually meet Rowan on time most mornings was by sleeping in her leggings, or her gym clothes, that way most mornings all she would have to do was push her feet in her sneakers and pull her golden blonde hair into a pony and be out the door.  Coffee also may or may not help her get her day started.  

She had a Keurig in her apartment, and the sugariest, most creamy coffee creamer in the fridge to help her wake up in the morning.  So that how she usually started her mornings: shoes, hair, and coffee.

The caffine and the sugar in her drink wakes her up as she sips her drink on the way to meet Rowan in front of the campus library, managing to recycle the empty cup just before she sees Rowan.  

They have been going on these morning runs for nearly two years now, since they decided to put their differences beside and become friends. They hated each other when they first met, both dealing with their own inner demons and not realizing that the person they each hated reminded themselves a little too much of what they saw when they looked in the mirror. When they finally called a truce, they decided the both needed a better way to deal with their loss and the stress of the world, hence the near daily jogs.

Even though she hated the early mornings, Aelin would be the first to admit that the runs helped.  She was no longer drinking herself half to death and getting into fist fights, and instead was feeling the steady pound of her feet on the pavement and the beat of her heart as she pushed her body to its limit.  Aelin had always been active in her childhood, avidly practicing karate and mixed martial arts until she was sixteen, she didn’t realize how much she craved the endorphins of exercise and a runner’s high until she was nineteen and started to run with Rowan.

Early on into her friendship with Rowan, Aelin decided becoming friends was one of the best things she had ever done.  Together they had decided to walk the path back to the light, and it had changed Aelin’s life for the better.  Nearing the end of her Junior year at the University of Terrasen, Aelin no longer felt like that angry and bitter freshmen she once was.

Aelin noticed Rowan seemed tired as she approached him, though she supposed that wasn’t odd.  She knew from Sam that he and the guys went out get drinks last night, he usually just wasn’t quite so hung over.  As one of the “healthy lifestyle choices”, as Rowan liked to put it, that they would partake in together was to no longer overindulge in alcohol, and drink their problems away.  Though perhaps this time it was in celebration, as he was approaching the end of his senior year, and she knew how beyond excited he was about starting his master’s program coming that fall.

Though they no longer overindulged, Aelin missed drinking with Rowan.  Rowan got goofy when he drank and damn her if it wasn’t one of the cutest things she had ever seen.  Especially how he giggled when he was tipsy, and she was telling some stupid joke.  She missed him, their lives had been so hectic lately between finishing up the semester and splitting their time among their various friends.

Rowan sighed as they began their run.  Aelin glanced over at Rowan. Who was scowling his way through his morning workout, that at least was semi-normal.  Rowan was not the mostly openly happy man on the best of days, scowling while running through his hangover seemed just like Rowan. They made their way through campus and ran past some of the historic buildings of downtown Orynth.  Aelin always loved this part of the city, she liked to imagine the lives of the long-ago royals as she ran past the palace and what used to be the mansions and hot spots of the wealthy.  

The buildings still belonged to the wealthy, but now they mostly made-up high-end apartment buildings and trendy boutiques and restaurants  near the U of T campus. Aelin should know, her apartment was located inside one of the former mansions, now a trendy apartment complex, near the palace and just a fifteen-minute walk to the campus library.

Aelin and Rowan’s pace began to slow down as they reached the end of their five-mile run, they had almost made it back to the library, the halfway point between both of their apartments.  When they finally reached their stopping point, Aelin flashed Rowan a smile over her shoulder which her warily returned.

“Well, you certainly worked your alcohol consumption off now.” Aelin joked towards Rowan, who just scowled in return.  “You can now go out again tonight, and not feel guilty about all the drinks you downed yesterday.”

“I didn’t drink that much,” Rowan protested.

“Really? That’s not what Sam told me,” Aelin shot back snarkily.  Rowan just sighed, and Aelin flashed him a triumphant grin. “Will I see you at the Cadre tonight?” she asked, naming their local haunt for cheap drinks near campus.

Rowan just solemnly nodded and said “See you tonight, Ace.” As he trudged his way back to his own apartment.

Aelin smiled to herself as she strolled at a leisurely pace as she made her way back to her own apartment.  Aelin loved her apartment.  She loved the white marble counter tops in her kitchen, her sofa in her living room, perfect for lounging the day away, it was her safe haven.  Aelin purchased the place right after her freshmen year of College ended, she would soon be moving out of her dorm and she needed a place to call home, since she could not stand to be alone in the house where she and her parents once lived.

One of the newer fixtures in Aelin apartment was her boyfriend, Sam Cortland.  She had just recently given him a key, so he saw fit to come to her apartment whenever he pleased.

“I see you let yourself in.” Aelin called as she walked through the door.

Sam looked up and grinned at her from his seat at the kitchen island, “Just thought I’d check on my beautiful girlfriend, and see what she was up to today.”

“Besides finishing my English lit paper and getting out of these disgustingly sweaty clothes?” Aelin asked.

“Yes, besides that.” Sam laughed over his cup of coffee.

“I told Rowan I’d meet him at the Cadre tonight.” Aelin said, as she watched Sam’s face become closed off, as he stared deeply into his mug.

“Rowan didn’t say anything about last night, did he?” Sam asked cautiously.

Aelin snorted, “No. It seems you guys had fun last night, judging by Rowan’s hang over though,” Aelin laughed. “I’m surprised you’re up and functioning this morning,” Aelin said as she went over to poke her boyfriend in the stomach.

“Well, I clearly didn’t have as good of a night as Rowan did,” Sam laughed, “but I was thinking we could have a good night soon.” Aelin perked up. “How about Mistward’s next Friday night? We can invite the whole gang. It can be our celebration for graduating and finishing our sophomore year.”

“Mistwards, huh?” Aelin was skeptical, Mistward’s was one of the nicest restaurants in all of Orynth, and one of the most expensive. “Do you really think our friends would be up for that? I don’t think Lorcan can dress nicely enough to get into a place like Mistward’s.”

At the end of every school year, Aelin and all her friends would gather, usually at the Cadre, and have a huge blow out celebration for finishing up the school year.  This year was different since both Rowan and Sam were graduating, this celebration had to be better, and to reflect all of them, and MIstward’s definitely did not reflect Rowan.

“I think I can convince them,” Sam said with a sly grin.

“I don’t Know…”

“Come on, Aelin,” He was still smiling, “I got it covered.” He set his mug of coffee on the counter and got up to kiss her. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close.  She relaxed into his warmth.

“I’m surprised you’re willing to touch me; I’m covered in sweat.” Aelin mumbled into his chest.

Sam laughed heartily, “Maybe my intentions weren’t so pure, we’re both fairly sweaty now. How about I run us a shower.”

Aelin laughed and began to walk into her bathroom to run a shower for the both of them.

#throne of glass #aelin galythinius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #celaena sardothien #sam cortland #lorcan salvaterre #fenrys moonbeam #connall moonbeam #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #au #champagne problems

[laequiem]

What did I miss? [ONESHOT]

/ Vaughan goes to Terrasen after the war. Third person POV fluffy Elorcan

Lorcan turned around and immediately walked towards where the voice— female, young—came from. He was so disciplined that I almost thought it was a blood-oath order. But Fenrys had told me the three of them were blood-sworn to Aelin, and she was up in her chambers until the start of the festivities. This order was coming from someone else, someone Lorcan just ... obeyed without complaint.

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The castle of Orynth had been decorated in garlands and lights for Yulemas. Little orbs of fire speckled the opalescent towers, glistening like the falling snow. While the castle wasn't in any way back to its former glory, it looked better than it did last year when I soared across the sky, following Maeve's order to find and kill Lorcan.

The war was over for more than a year now. With the blood oath broken, I had nowhere to go. All that freedom, for the first time in centuries, felt so foreign. I traveled all across the continents, picking up random mercenary jobs until I made my way back to Doranelle to empty my coffers.

In the city that was my home for centuries, I found Fenrys Moonbeam, one of my former colleagues. He explained over a pint of ale that, as emissary to Terrasen, he came to Doranelle to discuss trades with Queen Sellene Whitethorn. He was leaving the next day to get back to his new kingdom in time for Yulemas, and offered me to tag along.

With our fae speed, and my ability to scout ahead in my osprey form, the trip to Orynth went well. When we stopped to sleep, Fenrys told me about the war. I had heard rumours, but nothing concrete. He told me about Gavriel and Connall. About Rowan being king of Terrasen, reigning with his mate. Only straight facts, nothing ever too personal. I could tell it still haunted him and kept him awake some nights.

Yet, as we stood in front of the royal palace, I felt like I wasn't ready for whatever else I would learn.

Fenrys led me inside the stone keep, down the main hallway until we reached a room full of couches and low tables. In the back corners, more private seating arrangements seemed to be hidden behind thick forest green curtains.

The white wolf sighed as he beheld the only person in the room, lounging on a large couch, reading. And as I recognized him, I couldn't hide my excitement. "Salvaterre!"

Lorcan looked up, surprised. He stalked up to us and clasped arms with me. Our usual greeting: impersonal, yet familiar.

"Lorcan. I don't use my birth name anymore. It's nice to see you again, Vaughan. "

"He's a LORD now", Fenrys drawled from behind me, earning an eye-roll from the demi-fae, "can you believe that? A lord, and—"

Fenrys was cut off by a voice coming from one of the curtained-off corners.

"Lorcan! She's done eating."

Lorcan turned around and immediately walked towards where the voice - female, young - came from. He was so disciplined that I almost thought it was a blood-oath order. But Fenrys had told me the three of them were blood-sworn to Aelin, and she was up in her chambers until the start of the festivities. This order was coming from someone else, someone Lorcan just... obeyed without complaint.

As he moved aside the curtains, I saw the source of the voice. A dark-haired female was adjusting her dress over her breast, looking down at a bundle of blankets before handing it to Lorcan. He picked it up carefully and kissed the woman's forehead before holding out his arm for her.

The female got up and followed him out of the alcove. This is when I saw what he was holding—a dark-skinned baby with a full head of black hair. No doubt about it, he had to be the father.

When the couple got close enough, I noticed the baby's rounded ears. I looked Lorcan's wife up and down. Fenrys hadn't said anything about Lorcan having a child, or a wife - a HUMAN wife. As if Lorcan's presence here was as much a surprise as my own.

I must have been staring too long, because Lorcan cleared his throat. I started.

"She's taken, Vaughan."

His wife elbowed him in the ribs. He chuckled - CHUCKLED, Gods damn us all - and motioned to the woman. "My wife, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth. The little one is Marion."

I bowed to the lady, who curtsied. I was about to motion for us to sit down to talk when we heard the bells ring for dinner.

---------------------

The meal went well. After the second serving of dessert, the younger court members left—baby Marion with the teenager who sat next to Gavriel's son and his wife—and the booze started flowing.

"For fuck's sake Fenrys, can you bark any louder?"

From spending centuries with them, I already knew how they acted drunk. Lorcan's outburst was no surprise: he always got grumpier and hornier than usual. Somehow, those two traits seemed to work in his favour, attracting a specific type of females. Fenrys, like his brother Connall, got loud and flirty. He talked to everyone, he called for shots and made everyone participate in drinking games. Gavriel and Rowan were more quiet - the former was the bummer-drunk while the Hawk had a tendency to fall asleep.

"Majesty, I thought HE wouldn't be invited to holidays! HE RUINS EVERYTHING! " Fenrys exclaimed, equally as loud as before.

Aelin laughed, but it was Lady Elide who answered. "He wasn't. I needed a nanny for Marion."

Everyone exploded in laughter, except Lorcan who frowned but had a hint of a grin. When the laughter died down, the dark-haired lady got up and motioned her husband to do the same.

"Come on, Grandpa. It's bedtime. Good night, everyone."

Lorcan got up with an exaggerated grunt, making his wife chuckle. He followed her towards the door.

"Elide," Fenrys exclaimed with a wink, "Once the old man is asleep, come knock on my door!"

Dark power started to rise around Lorcan as he made to turn around, but the Lady of Perranth put a hand on his back. As if under a spell, Lorcan's shoulders relaxed and his power crawled back inside him as they left the kitchen.

There was no denying it. This woman isn't human. She's a witch.

#throneofglass #elorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #lorcan #elide #lordlorcanlochan #sjmaas #sarahjmaas #fanfic #fanfiction #laequiem #tog #throne of glass #queen of shadows #empire of storms #kingdom of ash

[hoodwinkd1]

the stars that shine - Ch 3

Ch 2 here.

Chapter 3: I was sixteen when suddenly

“Excuse me, esteemed guests,” the herald called out. “A toast, from Queen Mother Georgina.”

The room silenced quickly, people putting down their dessert forks and picking up their flutes.

Hollin watched his mother rise, fixing her skirts and simpering at the crowd. “My dearest friends, thank you all so much for joining us for such a wonderful evening to celebrate Adarlan’s future.”

They couldn’t all be her dearest friends, could they? Considering Hollin didn’t recognize over half the faces, he highly doubted it.

“The fall harvest has produced more bounty than anyone predicted, so tonight is to celebrate the hard work of our farmers and all those who financially support them.” She paused for a moment, allowing light applause to flutter through the room.

He caught Dorian’s eye. Although the King looked engaged and supportive externally, Hollin could read the boredom oozing from him. They shared a look, both thinking that this dinner couldn’t celebrate farmers if none had been invited.

“And of course,” Georgina continued. “Tonight is celebrating my son as well. Happy birthday, Hollin. May this year provide even more success for you and the kingdom.”

She raised her glass against his, then sat down.

“Thank you,” he muttered, taking a large sip of champagne. “The dinner is...lovely.”

His mother preened. “Oh, of course my dear. Anything for your sixteenth.” She sighed and drank half her glass. “I cannot believe how grown up the two of you are. I remember, oh it feels like yesterday, when you first rode a horse--”

Her closest courtiers leaned in to hear the story, right as Hollin tuned her voice out. Only one glass, and he could sneak off while pretending to “work the room.”

Luckily, Dorian jumped in as soon as the story ended with him falling on a stable boy. “Hollin, would you join me? I spotted some people I should greet.”

His brother had been more supportive than usual in the past two year. After Hollin had begun his training, with a mortifying first lesson, Dorian had quietly stepped in to help. Although the two of them lacked the easy conversation between many siblings, they had come to some sort of arrangement. Hollin could find Dorian whenever he felt overwhelmed, without fearing judgment or scorn.

“Do you think she’s ever met a farmer?” Hollin wondered, as they navigated past tables. “Actually spoken to one before?”

Dorian chuckled. “I always forget how sheltered she’s been as Queen. Even during the damn war, Mother was too far away to interact with any soldiers or common people.”

“So was I.” The words flew out of Hollin’s mouth before he could think.

Dorian stopped walking. “What? You were a child.” He turned his head sharply. “Hollin, you can’t possibly feel guilty for-”

“Your Highnesses!” A family approached them. Hollin recognized the parents as Ladies Bernice and Nerissa Finnick, who oversaw much of the sea commerce in Rifthold, leading three of their children towards the princes.

Nerissa reached out a deep bronze hand. “Excuse the interruption. If you have a moment, Your Majesty, I would like to request a meeting for next week.”

Dorian took her hand and smiled warmly. “Of course. Hollin, have you met the Finnicks yet?”

Maybe his brother didn’t have his back all the time.

“Yes, Anya and I have had some classes together.” He nodded at the middle daughter.

Anya stepped forward as the adults began some boring conversation. “These are my brothers, Galen and Sebastian.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hollin responded, shaking both of their hands. He hated the formality these parties required, since most of his peers treated him quite casually in other settings. “Are you enjoying the evening?”

Galen smiled. “The food was excellent, so I can’t complain.” Hollin had to glance up to look at him, the whole family annoying tall, tan, and beautiful.

“Have you heard any news from Terrasen?” Anya asked. “From Evangeline?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer her question, whether she simply meant to further the conversation or if she wanted a certain piece of information. “Nothing...particular, but the royal family seems to be doing well.”

“Ah, well. I’ve written to her a few times, but she hadn’t mentioned any plans to return. We all miss her so much,” Anya sighed.

Oh. Apparently everyone on this damn planet loved Evangeline and expected them to be best friends.

“I’m sure she knows she’s welcome here anytime.” Hollin took a step back. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few more guests to greet.”

He was lying, of course. Hollin snuck into the kitchens as soon as he maneuvered past prying eyes, content to finish the evening with another round of dessert and absolutely no more niceties.

---

Thick snow layered Orynth, as it always did in late winter, but the dining room inside the palace was downright toasty. Evangeline’s gaze kept catching on the massive window across from her, the white powder falling down in countless patterns and twists.

“Excuse me, Queen speaking!” Aelin called out, tapping a knife against her champagne flute to command everyone’s attention. “I’d like to make a toast.”

Evangeline started at the interruption, turning away from the snowfall, as Lysandra rolled her eyes from the seat next to her. “Just keep it brief, Galanthynius. Today isn’t about you.”

Aelin pouted for a moment, garnering laughs from the table, then shrugged her shoulders. “Fair point.” The two women shared a grin before she turned to face the larger group.

“Today is about two of my favorite people,” she began. “Lysandra and Evangeline, I am incredibly happy that we all came together to celebrate such happy news.”

Aedion leaned across the table and caught Rowan’s eye. “‘Two of my favorite people’ and we aren’t even included? Pure misandry,” he muttered. The silver-haired Fae chuckled lightly.

“Exactly,” Aelin shot back. “Now hush, male. Eva, even with the most chaotic group of parental figures, has managed to grow into one of the kindest, wisest, and most genuine young women I have ever met. I hope this year brings you joy and fancy jewelry, both of which you deserve plenty of. Happy sixteenth birthday, my darling.”

Evangeline blew her aunt a kiss. She couldn’t put into words what this entire evening meant to her, how unbelievable it was that the Queen and King of Terrasen hosted her birthday dinner. She glanced down the table, smiling at all of the family and friends that looked at her with such love in their eyes.

“Lys,” Aelin continued. “My best friend. You took care of me, and so many other people in this room, when we needed it most, giving you more than enough practice for this next chapter in your life. I think I might actually be more excited than Aedion for this baby.”

Aedion leaned back in his chair. “Not possibly, cousin.”

“Didn’t I already hush you?” Aelin scrunched her nose. Evangeline held back a giggle at their dynamic. “Anyway, I can’t wait to force Adara to befriend your child, just so we all have another excuse to spend time together. Cheers to these two beautiful women.”

“Cheers!” The whole table cried out, glasses clinking and liquid sloshing.

Lysandra tapped her glass of sparkling juice against Evangeline’s. “I’m a bit sad that you get to drink alcohol while I can't. I always imagined sneaking you liquor on a ladies’ night.”

Aedion put down his juice as well. The couple had agreed that if Lys couldn’t drink, neither of them could. “I always wanted to take her to one of the taverns in Rifthold. Watch little Eva drink her first ale while taking men for all their worth in cards.”

“I’m not that good,” Evangeline laughed. “And anyway, this is a very classy way to have my first, proper glass of alcohol.”

“Proper?” Rowan interjected, bouncing the crown princess on his leg. “Does that mean you’ve had an improper drink before?”

Aelin gasped. “My devious little angel”

“No!” Evangeline scrunched her nose. “I just meant, first drink beyond accidental sips and tasting it from your glasses. You’re all horrible.”

Aedion shrugged. “My first drink was when I was fourteen. Stepped off the battlefield and took a very large sip of something disgusting.”

Lysandra patted his knee affectionately. “That’s a terrible story. We probably all had bad experiences during our first time.”

“First time? Lys, you make it sound like something dirty,” Aelin teased. “My first time was quite romantic-”

“Really? Bringing him up at a nice dinner?” Rowan drawled. “In front of our child?”

Evangeline finally stopped trying to hold back her laughter and huge smile. She would miss this family, miss the ease and joy that came with every conversation during her next round of travels.

----

Evangeline all but threw herself onto the lavish bed, too exhausted to even consider taking a bath, though she most definitely needed one. Banjali might be the loveliest city she had ever seen, if not remarkably warm in the early springtime.

She had a week left in Eyllwe, with most of that time spent travelling. Aelin had pulled her aside before her visit, and asked her if she would be prepared for a visit to Calaculla to demonstrate Terrasen’s grief for the horrors committed there. Evangeline, of course, agreed to the detour.

As if to make up for the depressing finish to her stay, the Ytgers’ had ensured her time in the capital city was as happy as possible. The younger crown prince in particular put in the most time and effort to show her around the city. Evangeline didn’t mind, not when Deji was nice enough to look at.

She sat up at the sound of a sharp knock. “Time for dinner,” Fenrys announced from the other side.

“I haven’t had any time to change!” Evangeline protested, scrambling towards the vanity, eyes widening in shock at the state of her hair. “I thought we had an hour!”

She didn’t love that this trip was chaperoned, but Lysandra and Aedion had insisted. The ship would travel past Skulls Bay, a place where Aelin had apparently made more enemies than friends.

“We would have had an hour, if you didn’t stop for cake on the walk back.” Fenrys opened the door carefully. “Can I come into the sitting room?”

“Ugh!” Evangeline huffed, pulling her hair out of its braids. She walked over to the entrance of her bedchamber and slammed the door between them shut. “I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

She could hear him pacing around. “If we get any snide remarks for being late, I’m tattling on you to Aedion.”

Evangeline stuck her tongue out, although he couldn’t see her. She didn’t have time for a proper reply.

Seventeen minutes later, the two of them walked down to one of the smaller dining rooms. The Queen stood at the entrance, looking impeccable as always. Evangeline looked...passable, clothed in a fresh, crimson dress and golden hair somewhat brushed.

“Hello, Your Majesty,” she greeted. “I hope we aren’t late.”

The Queen waved her off. “Tonight is a rather small affair, do not fret. Lord Fenrys, I hope you don’t mind that we planned on separating the children from the adults tonight? The boys have a couple friends with them and they do hate it when we eavesdrop.”

Fenrys puffed his chest a bit at the use of his title. “Perfectly fine by me. Assuming you can handle yourself, Lady Evangeline?”

“Of course,” she responded, her polite tone at odds with the elbow she shoved into his side when the Queen turned to lead them in.

Kharis, the elder prince, walked up to them. “Good evening. May I escort you in?” He offered up his arm, which Evangeline took with one last wave to the adults.

He steered her towards another door that he opened to reveal a room with a much smaller table. She was met with four pairs of eyes, only one of which she recognized.

“This is Lady Evangeline, from Terrasen,” Kharis announced.

“Oh please, just Eva,” she insisted. “Pleased to meet you.”

One of the girls stepped forward. “I’m Athaliah, and these are my siblings, Jethro and Phebe.”

They all took their seats then, and luckily, conversation flowed easily. The three of them were not nobility, but their grandmother had served with the Queen’s father. Evangeline didn’t quite understand how he had managed to get his daughter on the throne after an alleged rebellion against the former King, but she didn’t think it polite to ask.

Phebe and Deji seemed to have some special connection, joking on a level that suggested intimacy. Evangeline forced herself to feel any sort of disappointment at their banter. Even if she thought he had flirted with her, nothing actually happened.

“Would you like a drink?” The boy of her thoughts interrupted the conversation Evangeline was currently having with Athaliah. “We nicked some spiced wine.”

“That sounds lovely,” she replied. Deji handed her a glass, seating himself next to her on the couch.

“Where will you go next?” Athaliah asked, continuing on. “Back to Terrasen?”

Evangeline nodded. “My ward, Lord Darrow, is expecting me back in a few weeks. We have some additional time, but quite honestly, I’m excited to sleep in a familiar bed again.”

“Our accommodations aren’t good enough for you?” Deji teased.

Evangeline scrunched her nose at him. “Of course not! But I am unaccustomed to this heat so early in the year.”

Jethro called for his sister, the others beginning to play a card game of sorts. She left them alone on the couches, Evangeline scrambling for something to keep the conversation going.

“Can I show you something?” he asked.

Perfect. “How far is this ‘something’?” Evangeline brought the glass to her lips, enjoying the slow buzz of the wine.

Deji stood, holding out his free hand. “Not far. I wouldn’t dare make you walk for too long in this heat.”

She followed him out of the room, down the hall, and towards a large balcony that she hadn’t noticed before. He held open the opaque doors, gesturing for her to step out first.

Evangeline let out a small gasp at the view. From this angle, the ocean seemed endless, and the moon looked close enough to touch. Large, swaying trees framed the water’s edge. The entire scene glittered with starlight, more real than a painting, yet more beautiful than real life.

“This is...unbelievable.”

Deji leaned against the stone railing. “It’s my favorite view, especially at night. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t see and hear the ocean most days.”

Evangeline joined him on the railing. “You might have ruined me as well. I’ll miss this dearly back home.”

They glanced over each other at the same time, bringing a heated blush to her face. His skin was too dark to show it, but she prayed she wasn’t alone in this feeling.

“Can I kiss you?” she blurted out, then immediately covered her mouth with her free hand. Oh gods, she might as well fling herself from the balcony now. Evangeline wanted to blame the wine, but truthfully, one drink hadn’t clouded her judgement at all. “I’m so sorry, that was--”

Deji cut her off, grabbing her hand gently and holding it in his own. “I was afraid you were going to make me ask you.”

He leaned in then, pressing his lips against hers. Evangeline’s eyes fluttered shut, experimentally deepening the kiss and moving her mouth against his.

It was sweet, if not a bit clumsy and filled with nervous giggling. Everything a first kiss should be.

----

Dorian found him in the training ring, one morning. Hollin wanted to get reacquainted with walking up earlier, now that spring had arrived and the afternoons would soon be too warm for exercise.

"Do you need something?" he huffed, talking a second to chug some water. The endurance circuit was quite honestly kicking his ass.

His brother shrugged. "I feel bad that I didn't warn you last time, so I'm telling you in advance now. Evangeline and Fenrys Moonbeam will be staying in the palace for a few days on their way back from Eyllwe, arriving in one week."

Hollin spun on his heel, pretending to grab a towel to keep his face hidden. "It's a bit last minute for royal guests, isn't it?"

Dorian sighed. "They're dear friends, not courtiers. Perhaps we could do a more casual dinner, allow you the chance to get to know both of them better. I'm sure Fenrys would offer to train you a bit as well."

"Is that the purpose behind their visit? Give me training with a feared Fae warrior?" Hollin didn't cover the sarcasm in his tone.

"No, I believe Eva wanted to see her friends here, something she doesn't regularly get a chance to do. Are you done with the questions?"

"Yes. Fine. Whatever." He pushed himself up, abandoning the towel. A bath would do nicely for his aching muscles. "Add the required events to my schedule."

Dorian mumbled something under his breath, but thankfully turned to leave. Right before he re-entered the main hallway, he called out: "It wouldn't hurt you to have friends!"

"I have two!" Hollin called back. "Who needs more than that?"

#tog #throne of glass #fanfic #hollin havilliard #evangeline tog #dorian #eyllwe #sjm #sarah j maas #fic

[leiawritesstories]

Hi! Could you write something for Fenrys? He meets his mate in another world??

Anon I LOVE THIS THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! Yes absolutely I can ;)

Otherworldly

Word count: 2.2k 

Warnings: language, starts a little angsty BUT I PROMISE IT ENDS WELL

Enjoy!

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

Fenrys Moonbeam was lost. 

And not in the literal sense, no, he knew precisely where he was in the Palace of Orynth’s grand hallways. Had lived there enough years to know each passage like the back of his hand. Enough years to watch Aelin and Rowan slowly begin to bring Terrasen back to its former glory, bring all of Erilea back to where it was before the Valg tore it all apart. Yes, he loved the role he’d settled into as Aelin’s emissary, charming his way around all the kingdoms, and yes, he adored being called Uncle Fenrys by her and Rowan’s three children. Soon to be four, if his Fae senses were correct.

But there were still nights when he awoke drenched in cold sweat, Connall’s face blank as he impaled himself on that dagger, Maeve’s frigid cackle echoing in his ears. Even after all the years, the pain of losing his twin, the dark to his light, had never faded.

Maybe that was why his powers had been acting up lately, as if someone somewhere was nudging him, calling him. He’d dreamed of Connall too, dreamed of seeing him on the other side, dreamed of being able to reconcile with his brother. But every time his powers had called, he’d shoved them down, not ready to walk through worlds without his brother at his side if the nudges he kept feeling were no more than his own grief pulling at him. 

And yet there were nights like tonight, when he was jerked from slumber only to find himself decidedly not in his room, but somewhere else in the Palace of Orynth, with a whisper of his power fading away into the night. As if the power was defying his resistance to using it and was instead using him, pulling him, directing him to walk in his dreams if he wouldn’t walk while awake.

Fenrys...

His head snapped around, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. Looking in all directions, Fenrys saw nothing. No signs that anyone was there. No hint of any other presence save his own in this quiet, deserted back hallway. He shook his head to clear it, trying to convince himself the voice was but a lingering remainder of his dreams. Focus, Fen, get back to your rooms and go the hell back to sleep. 

He was halfway up the stairs leading to the east wing when that damned voice sounded again.

Fenrys...

“What?” he whispered aloud.

No response. No presence save his. Fenrys shook his head again and returned to his room, flopped onto his bed, closed his eyes.

He drifted off into a restless sleep, shadowy glimpses of a female-looking form, a white wolf, a black wolf, and his twin’s face flashing through his hazy dreams. The morning sunlight woke him, and he laid in bed a short while, puzzling over what the rutting hell the hazy, incomprehensible dream-flashes could have meant.

Fen? A familiar voice in his mind this time.

What is it, Your Majesty?

You know you don’t have to call me that, Fen. He could practically hear Aelin’s eyes rolling. I just wanted to know if you were awake, since you’re not down to breakfast yet and, well, Enna wants to know where Uncle Fenny is.

Uncle Fenrys will be down in just a moment, Fenrys promised.

Aelin chuckled on the other end of the bloodbond. All right. Her presence vanished.

Fenrys went down to join the royal family, laughing when Enna, the youngest princess, all but flung herself at him, squealing “Uncle Fenny!”

“Good morning, Enna! Did you eat all your yummy food?” he asked, hoisting her into his arms.

She tried to look serious, widening her big blue eyes. “Uh huh.”

“Really?” He arched a brow. “I think I still see oats in your bowl, little one.”

“I all done!” she returned, smiling a big four-year-old smile. 

“And what does Mama say about that, hmm?” He winked at Aelin.

“Mama say I need’a finish,” Enna mumbled, poking out her lower lip.

“Mhmm, that’s right, lovey,” Aelin hummed as Fenrys swung Enna back over to her seat. “Eat all your breakfast so you’ll grow big and strong.”

“Like you Mama?” Enna reluctantly let Fenrys scoop what was left of her oatmeal to the side of her bowl closest to her.

“Just like Mama,” Rowan told his youngest daughter, kissing her silvery little head. He nudged Fenrys’s shoulder on his way out. “You want to train this afternoon?”

“Absolutely.”

Rowan nodded at him and left the breakfast room, pressing a soft kiss to Aelin’s lips as he did. Fenrys didn’t miss the way his hand brushed over the queen’s abdomen, a secret smile curving both of their lips.

“Eww!” Enna squealed. “No kissy!”

Rowan laughed as he walked away. Aelin chuckled, kissing her youngest’s messy head. “Fen, can you finish breakfast with her? I need to go change.”

“Still keeping the next one a secret?” The words slipped out before he could help himself.

Aelin stared at him in shock. “You...of course you know. You’re Fae, after all, and we aren’t concealing my scent all the time.” She grasped his hands. “Yes, we’re still keeping it quiet, so don’t even think about spilling the beans, Moonbeam.”

“On my word, I won’t,” he promised. 

“Thank you.” Aelin squeezed his hands and left. 

“Okay my little princess,” Fenrys declared, plopping down into the chair next to Enna, “how fast can you finish your food?”

“And no eating contests!” Aelin shouted over her shoulder.

~

Exhausted from the day, Fenrys all but collapsed into his bed, tumbling into sleep near immediately. This time, the dream was vivid, so lifelike he could practically smell the crisp, fresh air, could feel the ancient textured oak that surrounded him. Where was he? Clearing his dream-mind, he realized he was in the heart of the Oakwald, in a remote, secluded glen that practically oozed power out its pores. He sensed a faint thrum in the air, as if the ancient magic of the Oakwald itself was alive, was watching him, might even have brought him here. 

Fenrys...That now-familiar dream voice called again, stronger than it had ever been. Fenrys turned a slow circle, scanning the trees for any sign of where the voice could be issuing from. Fenrys! He jerked around, sharply, only to find, once again, no one. 

So he did what all searching Fae do--he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, relying on his other Fae senses to perhaps give him any hints.

That’s not going to work, Fenrys Moonbeam. The voice, as he could now tell for certain, was female, and tinged with a bit of...laughter?

Stop laughing at me, Fenrys griped to himself.

Oh, I apologize, are your poor feelings hurt? snarked the voice.

Fenrys jumped. You heard me?

Loud and clear.

Who...he cleared his throat. Who are you? Where are you?

For now, in your mind only. 

How the hell?

Dreams break down barriers, Fenrys. Even those between worlds.

Fenrys shook his head, trying to process. What?

You cannot scent me, see me, or do anything but hear my voice because I am not in your world.

How am I hearing your voice, then?

Your power allows you to do more than just walk between the worlds, Fenrys.

Call me Fen, please.

All right, Fen, because you can walk between worlds, you can also hear between the realms under certain circumstances.

Such as in dreams?

Yes. Dreams, and some locations where the worlds align.

Fenrys blinked in shock, viewing his surroundings in a new light. So here, in the middle of the Oakwald, is one of those places?

Whatever the Oakwald is, yes.

The forest where I am. But that still doesn’t answer my question. Why am I having these dreams?

You have not used your power in a very long time. 

I have not.

Why?

Fenrys went silent for a long, long moment. And then, Connall is dead.

I can tell from your voice that this Connall meant a great deal to you. I am so, so sorry. Oddly enough, he felt a wave of her sympathy, as if her voice itself could carry emotions.

He was my twin. He shared my power. I have not walked since his death.

You must.

No. I cannot.

Cannot? Or will not?

A pause. Both.

At least you are honest, she snorted, ever so faintly amused. We shall see how long it takes for you to walk, Fen.

The hell does that mean?

Your power has been confined for too long, Fenrys. If you do not use it, it shall use you, and you will only regain control when you step forward and take control of your walking.

And I’m supposed to walk while I’m dreaming? When I’m not actually conscious and therefore don’t actually know I’m using my power? he snarked.

Are you dreaming?

I...yes?

She snickered. Well, when you can distinguish dreaming from consciousness, we can talk some more. And she went silent.

Fenrys’s eyes sprang open, taking stock of his surroundings. He was still in his room, the walls familiar, everything dark and quiet in the silence of the wee hours of the night. Flopping back against his pillow, he groaned, frustrated, unwilling to admit that the female was absolutely correct. He could not keep tamping down his power. Even Rowan had said so, while they were training that afternoon, warning him of the dangers of his power spiraling out of control if kept down for too long.

He breathed deeply, reached down into his mind, searching for the shadowy door between places that he had avoided since Connall died. All his senses numbing, he approached the door, cautious. 

Within arm’s reach of the shadowy portal, he froze, the memory of Con’s death blaring across his vision, and retreated, unable to reach any further into his power.

I cannot, he cried to whoever was listening in his mind. I cannot. 

He fell once more into slumber, willing any and all images of Connall’s blood spilling onto Maeve’s tiles to stay the rutting hells away from his dreams. The last thing he remembered as he dropped off the edge of wakefulness was a rush of shadow closing over him...or was it just his eyes closing...

~

Batting at whatever damned water was dripping onto his forehead, probably another leak in the gods-damned skylight above his bed, Fenrys blinked blearily, unwilling to actually wake up.

“I’m’wake,” he grumbled, voice raspy with sleep, “damn leaky window, must have rained on me agai--” His gesturing hand hit sleek, soft fur. “Fleetfoot?” He cracked his eyes open.

And yelped.

“Shit! You’re not Fleetfoot!” He froze, terrified, laying flat on his back in the strangely soft grass, his eyes locked on the glittering obsidian eyes of the absolutely fucking massive silvery-grey wolf that stood over him, its drool dripping onto his forehead.

“Fenrir! Down!” A clear female voice rang across the great open space. Fenrys sucked in a shocked breath. He knew that voice. Heard it in his mind. Had spoken to the owner of that voice in his dreams. The wolf loosed a whine and stepped back, almost reluctantly.

A tall, dark-haired female wearing fitted trousers tucked into high, fur-lined boots and an open jacket over a loose, laced-up shirt strode over, a deadly-looking spear in her left hand. “What have you found there, Fenrir?” The wolf backed up a few more paces, stilling by the female’s side. She was barely a head taller than his back; the wolf’s head rose higher than hers. Her captivating, green-brown eyes locked onto Fenrys’s, widening in incredulity. “Fenrys?”

Dazed, he could only nod.

They stared at each other, equally stunned. Finally, she broke the silence, crossing the short distance to where Fenrys still lay in the grass, extending a tanned hand to him. “My name is Talia Larsdottir.”

“Fenrys Moonbeam,” he breathed, clasping her hand and pulling himself to his feet, “but you already knew that.”

A faint grin curved the side of her full lips. “Indeed I did.” Hand clasped in his, she held his gaze, drinking in his form just as he was drinking in hers.

Something electric raced up Fenrys’s arm from where their hands were joined, jolted his heart, struck a chord in his mind. Talia sucked in a quick breath, her whole body tensing. Carefully, he released her hand, afraid he might have accidentally grazed her with some remnant of his power. 

“What was that?” she wondered aloud, flexing her hand.

“I don’t know,” Fenrys admitted. Was it some spark of my power?

“Walking powers don’t work like that, Fen,” she scoffed. Is he an idiot? sounded in his mind.

“Now don’t be mean, Talia,” he chided laughingly, her gorgeous name rolling off his tongue. Her fierce eyes snapped back to his.

“You heard me.” A statement, not a question.

“I heard you.”

They felt it then, a deep, reverberating thrum settling between the two of them.

Talia’s beautiful face slackened in perfect shock. “Fenrys,” she gasped, unable to form a coherent thought other than his name.

“Talia,” he croaked, wonder breaking over his face, “I’m your mate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

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#my writing #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x oc #answered prompt #anon

[imaginedhaven]

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Eight

Link to Masterpost

Surprise chapter! Got it finished earlier than I’d thought.

~*~*~

The rest of their journey to Adarlan’s capital passed without incident, much to Aedion’s vocal and Aelin’s quiet relief. They arrived two days ahead of the date they had agreed upon with the royal family, and Aelin grinned as they reached the rooms they would be staying in until they made their formal appearance.

Lysandra fell onto the bed they would share for the next two days, sighing happily. “I know I was glad to leave the palace for a while,” she said into a pillow, “but remind me next time that traveling with you is far more dangerous than it needs to be.”

Aelin laughed, drawing her knees up against her chest as she sat beside her friend. “Would it be an adventure if there wasn’t any excitement?” she teased.

“We clearly have different ideas of excitement,” Lysandra grumbled. “Excitement is finding a lovely piece of jewelry at a steep discount. Almost dying is a different thing altogether.”

Aelin winced. “Well, I’ve only ever heard good things about the Rifthold markets,” she pointed out. “Would an afternoon of shopping be an acceptable peace offering? I need to find something to wear when we meet the royal family, after all.”

Lysandra lifted her head just enough to expose one eye and stare at her. “Just us? We’re leaving the males?”

“Unless you want Aedion to make himself useful and carry things.”

Her friend laughed at that, and finally stood. “Just us. It’s been too long since we had the chance.”

Aelin carefully didn’t mention that if the males wanted to find them they would have minimal difficulty. Aedion had tracked her down by scent a handful of times in the past, and she had no doubt that Rowan’s senses were even more keen. Instead, she linked arms with Lysandra and led her friend into the streets of Rifthold.

Though it was slightly warmer here than in her native Terrasen, once they reached the markets it was similar enough to walking through the streets in Orynth that Aelin allowed herself to relax slightly. The colors here were different, of course, with more reds and blues in use in decoration, but the stone buildings looked familiar enough and the bustle of people around her was almost exactly the same.

It took them almost no time to locate a shop that sold gowns, and soon enough they were leaving with a neatly-wrapped package containing something she could wear to face Dorian and his family when they were to officially begin their courtship.

Her primary goal accomplished, Aelin allowed her gaze to wander around the area, just another foreigner taking in the marvels of the city. They were far enough away from the palace that it was out of sight, and just a few streets away she could see the beginnings of the city’s darker alleys. It was too risky to venture there now, when the magic that normally surged through her veins was still mere embers and moving too quickly still led to aching joints. Even if she had felt comfortable doing so herself, she knew Lysandra would be unlikely to forgive her for dragging her along to a part of the city that would feel entirely too familiar to the shifter. And so instead, she marked several buildings in her mind as locations of interest and turned to her friend. “Shall we make an afternoon of it?” she asked. “That didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would.”

“I think we should,” Lysandra replied, green eyes gleaming. “You haven’t nearly made it up to me, after all. One of the girls at the dress shop told me there’s a particularly good jeweler a few streets away, and I think nothing would please me more than making you spend your own money to let me dress you up for your big day.”

Aelin laughed. “They’re hardly going to expect me to be looking my best after a long journey.”

“Oh, I know. Which is why we need to make certain you’re absolutely stunning,” Lysandra grinned.

Her friend had a point. Image was everything, and if Aelin presented herself as the princess she was she had a better chance of the meeting going smoothly than if she showed up in riding leathers. Still, she let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, I suppose,” she drawled. “But only if we also stop by that stand I saw across the streets selling chocolates. Do you think I can convince Rowan to eat one? I don’t think he’s ever eaten a sweet in his life, and we can’t have that.”

Lysandra laughed at that, but it wasn’t until Aelin prompted her with a quirked eyebrow that she managed to reply. “Oh, I think if anyone could get him to do anything, it’d be you,” her friend wheezed.

“You’ll tell me why that’s so amusing to you later,” she demanded before allowing herself to be led into the jeweler’s store.

A few choice purchases and absolutely no answers from Lysandra later, Aelin finally managed to drag the shifter over to the stand she had seen to peruse the selection of chocolates that were on offer.

After so long eating whatever they could find during their travels it was difficult to decide which she wanted more, and equally difficult to stop herself from buying some of each kind. Instead, she decided she would select one type for each of her companions.

Aedion was easy enough to consider, as she knew he preferred the saltiness of roasted nuts encapsulated in chocolate when she could convince him to indulge with her. Lysandra was equally easy, as she would initially protest but then happily consume the caramels the vendor had on offer.

Rowan was much harder to choose for. She hadn’t been joking when she’d told Lysandra that she was convinced the male had never eaten anything unhealthy. If he had, it was obviously decades ago. With that sort of pressure riding on her choice, she wanted to make sure it was something he would enjoy. Something simple, certainly, he didn’t seem to enjoy a lot of fuss around food, but…

She looked up to Lysandra to request her opinion, and dropped everything when she saw her friend had gone pale, staring into one of the alleys nearby.

~*~*~

It was like staring into a window to her own past, Lysandra realized as she saw the little girl standing in the alley. She looked to be ten or eleven, a pretty little child with golden curls and eyes the color of citrines. Her clothes, though worn, were clearly made to last, and she had a list in her little hand. No doubt she had been sent to run simple errands.

All of that wasn’t enough to catch her eye. Pretty little girls were common enough in the streets, after all. No, it was the brand on the girl’s hand that had caught her attention, the dark snake that had been tattooed into her flesh. Though not identical, Lysandra bore a similar one herself. It had since been marked over, but no matter what shape she took she could never be rid of it. The mark of a courtesan, or one in training.

The girl was young enough that she still had to be in training, and Lysandra wondered how young she had been when the mark had been etched into her skin. She wondered how it had come to be there, whether her parents had willingly given her or whether she had been taken off the streets. She knew all too well that either was possible.

Lysandra had been snatched off of the streets herself, but it was only through chance that she hadn’t been sold or even given away first. Her mother had struggled to raise her without her father, and then at a young age she had made the mistake of shifting in front of the worn woman and immediately found herself on the streets.

While shapeshifters such as herself were generally disliked and mistrusted, it hadn’t taken the brothel owners of Orynth long to realize that a protégée who could take whatever form her client wished was a valuable prospect. As a child she had accepted the bargain they offered, of shelter and food and an education in exchange for her services once she came of age.

As an adult, of course, she had learned the value they assigned for raising her and taking her in from the streets. Were it not for Aelin having run into her in a chance meeting as she was passing information to Sam, she would likely still be paying off her debts. Instead she was living in the castle as a trusted advisor and friend to the Crown Princess of Terrasen, no matter how many of her older advisors disapproved of a shapeshifter and former courtesan taking on such a role.

It had been a relief to leave the castle and all of its constraints for a short time, but the last thing Lysandra had expected was to have this sudden reminder of her own past thrust into her life. However, while she had made her choices and was currently living with them, there was still a chance for this girl to live free of the expectations that came with being raised by courtesans.

She glanced over at Aelin, who subtly nodded, and Lysandra felt a rush of relief at having her friend’s support. It was enough for her to approach the girl and crouch in the dust beside her. “Hello,” she said softly. “What’s your name?”

The girl stiffened, likely having been instructed not to speak with anyone strange while running her errands, so Lysandra carefully uncovered the mark on her own wrist and allowed her to see it. “I don’t mean you any trouble,” she reassured her.

The girl finally nodded, hands wringing together. “Evangeline,” she whispered.

“Evangeline,” Lysandra repeated quietly. “That’s a lovely name. Mine’s Lysandra. Have you been training long?”

The girl—Evangeline—shook her head. “My parents died last month,” she said quietly. “Clarisse found me after that.”

Lysandra bit her lip as she thought. A month of food and shelter and training was manageable, but if she was going to win the girl’s freedom she would have to make her undesirable to this Clarisse. And that meant…

She had to ask Evangeline first, though, or she would be little better than the girl’s current mistress. “Do you want to be able to leave?” she asked.

“I can’t,” the girl replied. “I’ve already been living there for a month, and I have no way to pay them back unless…”

“There is a way, if you want to come with me instead,” Lysandra explained. “See that lady over there, with the golden hair? That’s my friend Aelin, and she’d be able to cover your costs. But first we would need to make it so this Clarisse doesn’t want to keep you. It’ll hurt,” she warned. “But if you want a way out, we can give it to you.”

She watched as the girl thought over their offer, doing her best to keep her expression blank. She knew what she hoped for, of course, but Evangeline had to choose this for herself just as she had.

Finally those warm eyes blazed with determination and Evangeline nodded. “I don’t care if it hurts,” she said. “I want to be free.”

Lysandra smiled and drew a small knife that Aelin had gifted her, before then proceeding to buy her freedom. “We’ll have to do this quickly,” she explained. “For anyone to believe this wasn’t deliberate, I’m going to have to yell and act as though I’m angry with you. Then… the easiest way to make sure this Clarisse is willing to be rid of you is to mark your face, I’m afraid.”

Evangeline nodded quietly, and Lysandra thought quickly. They were still close enough to the markets that there would be witnesses to her actions, but near enough to the slums that she couldn’t see any guards in the area.

With one last look at the girl that Lysandra hoped was reassuring, she brandished her knife and shouted, “Thief!”

~*~*~

Once they arrived back at their rooms for the evening, Aelin watched with a smile as Lysandra introduced her new ward to Aedion. Soon, though, she slipped away to give the three of them time to get acquainted.

It seemed Rowan had had a similar idea, for as soon as she had changed into a loose tunic and trousers there was a knocking noise at the window. She smiled, and opened the shutter to let in his hawk form. “Did you leave, or were you asked to leave?” she asked as he shifted.

“I left,” he replied. “The child overexcited herself and fell asleep in my bed.” Despite his words, his expression was thoughtful rather than annoyed. “I was under the impression that the two of you were simply walking around town. How did you collect a child?”

Aelin laughed and sat on the edge of the bed before lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “Lysandra adopted her. All I did was threaten a few people and pay a fee.”

Rowan huffed out a laugh and sat beside her. “That doesn’t actually answer my question. I would presume you don’t ordinarily collect children on your outings, or the castle would have many more than it does.”

“This was… somewhat unique, yes,” Aelin sighed. “Evangeline—the girl—reminded her of herself at that age, and I helped Evangeline like I helped Lysandra.”

A period of silence followed, and then the mattress dipped as Rowan leaned back as well. “I think your friend intends to stay with your cousin tonight,” he said.

Aelin turned her head and grinned at him. “It’s just as well,” she decided. “It’ll make tonight easier.”

Rowan frowned, pine-green eyes narrowing in her direction. “You’re certain you want to move tonight?”

“I am,” she replied, “but we can talk about that later.”

Before he could say a word she grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together, his right to her left, just as they had done in the forest what seemed like an age ago but was only a few short days. Though the lack of a blood connection meant that his power remained separate from her own, she could swear she still smelled a trace of pine and snow in the room. “So,” she whispered. “Carranam.”

“So it would seem,” he replied just as quietly, and she could read hesitation and concern in his expression.

Now that she had allowed herself to think beyond the joy of sharing magic with someone as powerful and as skilled as Rowan, she could admit that she shared those concerns. No matter how compatible their magic was, he was still a foreign warrior and she was still working to become queen of Terrasen. He would have to go back to Doranelle, and he likely wouldn’t be able to avoid telling Queen Maeve what they were. That was a serious vulnerability for both of them, and one she wasn’t entirely certain how to address.

Even though it presented several potential problems for both of them, though, she found it utterly unthinkable to even consider regretting that they had found each other in this way. It seemed he felt similarly, for though his hand had twitched within hers when she’d taken it he hadn’t snatched it away either. “It’s funny,” she said quietly. “When you first came to Orynth I couldn’t stand you, and now…”

She trailed off, uncertain of how to continue, but he nodded as though he understood regardless. “I didn’t think I would ever find something like this,” he admitted. “It’s incredibly rare to find either a mate or a carranam within even our longer lifespans. To find both, whether in the same person or in two different people… almost impossibly so.”

“Are they usually different people?” Aelin asked, suddenly curious.

Rowan nodded. “As far as I’m aware, yes. It’s not impossible to share both bonds with the same individual, theoretically, but I’ve never known someone to have found both at all, much less with one person. My queen would likely know far more than I on the subject, but…”

But it would be unsafe for him to ask, she realized. He was doing what he could to protect them both. And so she changed subjects into territory that would be somewhat safer. “So if so few Fae ever find their mates, is that why your birth rates are so low?”

Rowan snorted out a laugh and turned to properly face her. “Hardly. We marry, just as humans do. I don’t know if your lineage is dilute enough that it’s no longer a problem for your family, but Fae have a difficult time conceiving and an even more difficult time in childbirth.”

Aelin winced in sympathy. “I wouldn’t know,” she admitted. “My mother rarely spoke of that part of our heritage. I only know that I have magic and I can shift, and my cousin lacks both of those abilities but has heightened senses.”

“You likely won’t know for a few years yet how your Fae blood affects you,” he acknowledged. “Even your cousin is another year or two off from the time when he would Settle, if he’s going to.”

Aelin nodded, and a few more moments passed in silence. Finally, she looked over at him again. “We might as well try to rest while we can,” she said quietly. “We’ve a long night ahead, after all.”

Rowan nodded in silent reply and closed his eyes, seeming to fall asleep almost immediately in the way that only a trained warrior could. Aelin wasn’t certain if he was actually asleep or simply relaxing, and she didn’t dare to ask lest she disturb him.

She did her best to carefully ignore the fact that his fingers were still laced between her own. After all, if she moved at all at this point she risked waking him. However, she couldn’t quite banish the warmth in her chest or the fluttering sensation in her abdomen at the realization that he felt comfortable enough beside her to possibly fall asleep like this.

That warmth lingered with her as she finally also allowed herself to rest.

~*~*~

Aedion wrapped an arm around Lysandra as they both glanced over at the bed where Evangeline lay sleeping. Thanks to how close she was to him, he could feel the faint tremble in the shifter’s hands. In an attempt to calm her nerves, he smiled. “I almost feel bad for giving her Whitethorn’s bed,” he said quietly, “but I’ll admit I think this is preferable.”

Lysandra looked up at him, startled. “I thought you liked Rowan well enough.”

“I do,” he agreed. “But you’re prettier than he is.”

She laughed, as he had hoped she would, but then her face turned serious. “I know this isn’t something we ever talked about,” she began, only to fall silent when he set a finger against her lips.

“I’m not upset,” Aedion said quietly. “I’ve wanted a family with you for years. This isn’t how I expected it would happen, certainly, but I know what this means to you and I’m glad you did it.”

Lysandra slumped against him, relief clear in her features. “I still wish we’d had the chance to talk about it first,” she admitted. “After all the grief I gave you over assuming things about me in the beginning and not asking me first, it seems wrong.”

Aedion laughed, tucking one of her chestnut curls behind her ear. “That’s life, dearest. You told me as soon as you could. It’s not as though you would be happier if I followed you everywhere.”

He had tried to do just that when they’d first met and he’d felt the pull toward his mate. That idea had ended in Lysandra shifting into a great clawed beast and snarling in his face until he had finally admitted it was a terrible idea, he recalled. It had taken weeks for her to even speak to him after that, and first among her conditions was that she required he talk things over with her instead of assuming based on what his instincts told him. It was something that was a struggle for him at times, especially at first, but he had worked hard to earn the trust she now had in him and it was something he wouldn’t trade for all the world.

As he looked back at the girl who was still sleeping across the room, he realized that this was truly a display of the trust she had in him. She had been nervous about his reaction, and he understood why, but she had brought Evangeline home regardless. It would be difficult for all three of them, he was certain. Having been orphaned young himself, he knew that no one would be able to truly replace the family Evangeline had lost. He and Lysandra both had little experience with children, and were certain to make mistakes along the way. But a glance back at his mate revealed the determination and affection in her face as she watched the girl sleep, and when he looked back at Evangeline he recognized those same emotions in himself.

They may not be the girl’s parents, and they would never try to replace them. However, they would do their best to make sure she had the best life they could give her.

He tightened the arm he’d wrapped around Lysandra’s waist, pulling her closer. “So does this mean you’re staying with me tonight?” he asked.

“I think so,” she replied, “but I should check with Aelin first. Make sure she and Rowan are all right.”

“Better you than me,” he chuckled. “I love my cousin, but there are things I don’t need to know about her.”

Lysandra’s eyes gleamed with mirth. “So you do think they’re interested in each other.”

Based on the way Whitethorn had behaved on their trip, he suspected their bond went beyond interest, but he wasn’t about to admit as much to Lysandra just yet. “I’m not willing to discount the possibility. I’m also not certain they haven’t killed each other. It could go either way; you didn’t have to watch them training.”

“Was it really that bad?” the shifter asked. “I know she was complaining about it constantly, but…”

“It was brutal,” he answered. “I think he’s more used to training soldiers, and especially in the beginning it was as though they absolutely hated each other. I don’t know what they may have said to each other, but… I thought about breaking up their training sessions more than once, based only on how they fought.”

“What stopped you?”

Aedion shrugged. “Even when it’s dilute, those of us with Fae blood require strict discipline to work past our instincts. I’ve never trained with magic, I don’t have any of my own, but I know that fire is known to be especially unpredictable. I assumed, or perhaps I simply hoped, that it would be for the best.”

Lysandra was quiet for a moment, thinking over his words, before asking, “Do you know what changed?”

“I don’t,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Maybe they had a conversation I wasn’t present for, or maybe one of them finally realized the lines they were crossing. You might have better luck asking Aelin.”

She laughed. “Aelin won’t tell me anything about it. She’ll work the conversation back to Evangeline, and you, and then I won’t realize for another hour that she never really answered my question.”

It was true, and Aedion knew it, but he sighed regardless. They both loved Aelin dearly, but it had become obvious in the past couple of years that she was hiding things from them. She still hadn’t told Aedion exactly how she and Lysandra had come to meet, though Lysandra had told what he suspected was an edited version of the tale.

Aedion shook his head, running a hand through his hair. That was a problem that wouldn’t be solved overnight. Perhaps this trip would help, but he was far from naïve. He knew that Aelin likely wouldn’t tell him until she was ready, if she ever was. “All right,” he said. “Go check with her, if that’s what you want to do.”

As Lysandra stood, Aedion watched her leave with a smile. It had truly been a stroke of luck that she was already friendly with his cousin when they had met; he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if his mate had hated Aelin. He was glad he didn’t have to find out.

His musing came to a grinding halt as Lysandra rushed back into the room. “They’re gone,” she whispered frantically.

“Gone?” Aedion repeated, numb with shock.

“As though they were never there.”

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world

#rowaelin #rules of engagement #haven writes

[bookocd]

Light as Air

Hi guys this is a Fenrys Fanfic that is set in the aftermath of Kingdom of Ash. I’m literally so excited about this and I have such a clear vision for where this is going to go. If anyone wants to be tagged when I update or has any thoughts for me PLEASE feel free to reach out. 

Summary: Fenrys see’s a powerful fae female after Aelin’s coronation and is given the task of finding her. Only he doesn’t know the secrets and chaos that he is about to unleash upon Orynth and himself. (A longer summary will be provided after this chapter! I just didn’t want to give any spoilers away)

Thank you for reading :)

Links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: 

Ever since she was a little girl, she only ever dreamed of two things; a beautiful night sky with different constellations then she had ever seen in Terrasen, and a pair of violet eyes, only a shade darker than her own. She never understood these dreams, but it always felt as though someone was watching her, not in a scary way, but in a safe nurturing way. Like she would always have someone guarding her and giving her direction. 

This past night she had still dreamt of the same stars and darkness, but instead of purple eyes looking back at her, she was staring into eyes of onyx. 

She didn’t understand her sudden need to go back into the city gates and find the golden man and she sure as hell didn’t understand that feeling in her heart, in her soul, that he was also searching for her. That while she was dreaming of his eyes, he may be dreaming of hers. 

Obviously he was a warrior and a male of worth, he was literally blood sworn to the most powerful queen in history. 

What would he ever want with me, she thought to herself as she laid in her small bed. I’m nobody and I will always be nobody. Her insecurities clouded her mind, like a summer storm cloud.

The female looked around and saw just how much of a nobody she was. Her room was actually a hidden cellar, and past the shelves of vegetables and ale, her small bed was in the corner. The bed was for a child, not a fully grown fae female. When she slept at night, she either had to curl up into a ball, knees to her chest, or let everything past her knee go over the end of the bed. There was a small worn dresser with drawers that squeaked when opened, that had all the clothes she owned. Having never learned how sew or stitch, her wardrobe consisted of her fathers pants, which had never been long enough, loose white shirts, which also didn’t fit, and one single hooded cloak. The cloak was a deep navy blue that almost seemed black, and it was the one thing that fit her and the only reason her father had gifted it to her was so she could cover her ears, facial features, and her lean muscular body. It was also perfect for hiding her assortment of knives and other weapons. 

Her father had only ever given her three things: the cloak, her array of weapons, and the skills to fight and always win. It wasn’t just physical fighting either, he educated her until she knew history, mathematics, and science, he made her able to adapt to any situation, he made her witty and able verbally spare with anyone. He did not just gift her weapons, he molded her into one. 

She ran her rough crooked fingers down the soft cotton fabric, and thought about her father. He was a warrior turned scholar, and somehow knew that dangerous times were coming, so he moved himself and his only son, Smyth, along with some of his books into a small cabin. The extensive forests west of Orynth became their home and soon after the female’s home as well.

Pushing out the thoughts of her family and the impeding misery, she tried to figure out what to do next. It was obvious that she needed to wait until the other royals left before she could make her move. With so many powerful people, she would be too much of a threat, a risk, and if she was provoke… Her body shuttered with memories of torn flesh, burnt skin, and silent screams of terror. She willed her hands to stop shaking. 

She would wait until all the royals were gone, then she would go into the city and see if any opportunities presented themselves, and if these opportunities came from the golden male, she wouldn’t be upset. 

—

He had gone into the city and the surrounding areas every day for two weeks. He told Rowan and the others that he wanted to help with the initial rebuilding, while they were working on goodbyes and more diplomatic matters. Lorcan and Elide both did their calculating stares, Aedion coughed while saying “bullshit” which had Lysandra smothering a laugh with her hand, and Rowan pulled him aside and gave him a “stay safe” lecture. 

Aelin caught up to him when he all but ran out of the room. She pointedly grabbed his elbow and forced him to look her straight on. The three blinks she sent his direction, meaning Are you all right, immediately calmed him, but also brought him back into a dark place. He could never lie to her, so he responded with two blinks, No.   

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on in that thick head of yours or do I need to use force.” Aelin’s eyes sparkled with the treat looming in the air. 

He opened his mouth, a deflecting comment on the tip of his tongue, but she interrupted and said, “Rowan told me what you said, about someone else joining the court.” Fenrys’s head whipped toward the door they had just existed and swore he could feel the bastard male in there smiling. 

“Oh don’t get all pissy about it. It’s my gods damned court and I get to decided who joins it.” He knew she was being playful by the light in her face, but he couldn’t help the sharp words as they came out of his mouth. 

“I know that” 

Aelin then moved her hands to her sides and widened the gap between her legs. A fighting stance. She was wearing pants and a loose black top, and her leather boots were stained with mud. 

He didn’t want to fight with her, not with the one person who understood his pain. He didn’t want to push her away. 

Letting out a rugged breath and running a hand down the back of his head nervously, he said, “It’s nothing I just can’t figure out if I think this girl is a threat or one of us”

“One of us?”

“A dreamer.” Clarity finally filled Aelin’s eyes and her body changed from taunt to fluid. She ran forward and put her arms around Fenrys’s neck. He grabbed her and pulled her close with his arms around her middle. 

Hearing a growl, the two turned and found Rowan glaring and baring his teeth. Fenrys couldn’t help, but laugh, even if the result was a fist to the face. Rowan started toward Fenrys, but Aelin ran to him, jumped up, and put her legs around his waist. 

Rowan’s fury washed away into something more heated. 

Aelin turned one last time, “Go find her Fen. This group could use another female, all the males and their territorial bullshit is getting old.”

Chuckling as Rowan poked his queen in the ribs, Fenrys decided it was his time to leave. 

With his fae ears he could just make out what Aelin said to her husband. 

“Oh how I’m going to make you beg after that performance.” The returning purr told Fenrys that Rowan wouldn’t mind that type of punishment. 

—

It wasn’t quite spring, but Fenrys was still sweating. His tan skin glistening in the sun, while nailing boards onto The Tadpole Inn’s roof. The innkeeper, Annie, a sweet human girl who had inherited the inn from her parents, who had both fought and died in the final days of the war. Fenrys had never asked her age, but he guessed she was in her twenties, and with her blond hair tied back into a long elaborate braid, she never shied away from hard work. Fenrys instantly liked her the moment she picked up a shitty wooden hammer and worked along side him, asking him questions, and even telling him to leave when she had mastered what had been taught. 

She was one of those closest to the outer wall, and Fenrys constantly found himself up on the barges. The surrounding area’s were still all a battle ground, scars and all, but the forest and freedom called his name. 

His keen eyes searched and scanned the land in front of him, and then he turned and looked toward the streets of Orynth. In the past weeks, he had found himself getting more and more anxious at being cooped up in the palace. It wasn’t the company, but the confinement. But he would be lying to himself if he said that was the only reason for being out and scanning the winding streets every spare moment. 

A phantom wind lifted his hair, and he turned toward the strange warm breeze.

Fenrys froze. 

The wind was blowing into his face now and it hit him. 

Cinnamon. 

He shifted in a flash of light and ran south, toward the smell. 

Gods he hoped it wasn’t a pastry.

—-

Every time she was in this city, she kept to the shadows. When she was younger it was based on fear, now it was to observe. She kept far away from the palace, from the queen inside it. She didn’t want that yet, she wanted gossip. 

Her father taught her that people always talked, and if you listened hard enough, the truth would always emerge. 

She watched a woman with graying hair and winkles around the cornes of her dark brown eyes, slowly move wet laundry to a clothes line. The conversation with her neighbor included sharp clipped words and it rubbed the female the wrong way. 

“I’ve seen the queen every single day with that male of hers,” she scoffed at the word male and violently gripped her clothing. 

She continued with every word dripping with distaste, “I feel like the fae are going to be her priority, if her choice in companions says anything.”

The female thought out the words and analyzed the tone. The truth came to her fairly quickly: the woman was panicked. Their city and Terrasen, had been in a war and that has effected everything and everyone. She was scared that her and people like her, would be a second thought to their queen. The female didn’t blame the fake distain for the fae males in Aelin’s court, but the thing that did stick out to her was that the woman had seen the queen everyday. 

Those are the actions of a queen who cares, for not just the city she rules over, but the individuals as well. A queen who wants to look within, fix what has been broken, before moving forward. 

She didn’t know what to do with the information, but she had been hearing the same thing all morning. The queen was caring and wise. Someone that could be trusted. 

It was enough.

Looking around at the smiles, even with their city so broken, these people were resilient and they would come back stronger than before. 

Stepping out of the shadows for the first time, in broad day light, the female felt lighter somehow. She had no idea that her good mood translated to her manipulating the wind. All around her the air started to breath and stir, seeming to wake. 

Tomorrow, she decided, I will—

The screaming cut off her thoughts and ended her rare reign of the wind. Unlike others she ran toward the commotion and started to yell at people to get inside. It wasn’t until she saw what was coming down the stone street at a sprint, that she lost her voice. Standing in the middle of the road, it was impossible for her to melt in-between buildings or become a shadow. 

The golden wolf bounded toward her, and the scratching of its elongated claws against the ground was deafening. The muscles on its legs were straining with effort and its coat was near radiant in the beating down sun. 

The wolf stopped mere inches from her, panting and staring into her soul, giving her a clear view of its knife like teeth. The sheer height of the beast sent a shiver down her spine. The near black eyes reminded her…

Blinding light surrounded her with a feeling of warmth. It was too bright for her not to quickly put her hands in front of her eyes as a shield, a shield from the sun like rays. 

A heartbeat later, the light was gone and the female slowly moved her hands down and opened her eyes. 

The golden male was standing in front of her. And he had a shit-eating grin on his face. 

She was in fucking trouble.

#throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #tower of dawn #sarah j maas #Sarah j Maas boys #fenrys moonbeam #rowan whitethorn #aedion ashryver #Lysandra #lorcan salvaterre #elide lochan

[shyvioletcat]

'do you want to feel the baby?' / 'did you feel him/her/them kick?' (because they go together) for Rowaelin please? and can it be canon? 🥺💜

Your wish is my command...

~~~~~

It was a quiet evening in the palace in Orynth. For the first time in a long while it was just the royal family staying in residence, besides of course those who also lived there. Everyone else had returned to their territories and homes for the time being with no urgent business to deal with in the capital. They would undoubtedly be back in a few months when the new prince or princess arrived. But for tonight the only ones in the royal quarters were the queen, her mate, their young daughter and Fleetfoot who lay in front of the fire.

Aelin read, seated on the plush couch tucked into Rowan’s side, one of his arms draped around her and in the other hand he held his own book. He wasn't getting much reading done though, he was putting his book down every few minutes as Elspeth brought him something to look at. She sat on the rug in front of the fire, an array of toys, books, paper and pencils around her. Rowan would drop his book into his lap when she would come over with a drawing or a toy, babbling away with sentences he only half understood, and dote on her. The smile on her face as she walked back to her things made Aelin‘s heart want to burst. Elsie had now decided to play with Fleetfoot, using her as a mountain for her toys to climb. The dog just lay there, tail wagging slowly, eyes still closed.

Aelin ran her hand over her stomach, the baby inside there had been quiet most of the day but it seemed they were now starting to wake up.

“Rowan,” Aelin said and she felt him shift so that he was looking down at her. “Give me your hand.”

Rowan put his book down and Aelin took his hand and laid out on her stomach, right where she expected the next movement to come from. And there it was. Rowan’s chuckle tickled her neck, making Aelin shiver.

“Elsie, love. Come here,” Rowan said and their daughter patted Fleetfoot’s head before she ran over to her father, resting her head on his knee. “Do you want to feel the baby move?” Rowan asked as he ran a hand over Elsie’s golden head.

“Yes, Papa!” She said excitedly

“Come over here then,” Aelin said and took Elspeth’s hand, guiding her to stand in front of her. Then Aelin took that tiny hand and pressed it to her stomach, her hand covering her daughter’s. Elsie’s brow furrowed as she got impatient but then the baby kicked against her hand, her face breaking into a smile so wide Aelin could have counter all her teeth. “Did you feel them kick?”

“Mama, I do it!” Elsie said, then she pressed a kiss to Aelin’s stomach.

The gesture took Aelin by surprise and she let go of Elsie’s hand as she went back to playing with Fleetfoot. Aelin just watched her daughter for a moment, she was such a kind and gentle little thing and although she would just be a shy a few months of being three when her sibling was born, she would make a wonderful older sister. Rowan's arms tightened around her and kissed the top of her head as Aelin lent back into his embrace. The world was calm and quiet, and in these precious, long fought for moments Aelin was content to bask in the warmth of her mate’s arm and just take it al in.

~~~~~

My apologies if this kinda sucks... words aren’t cooperating today...

Tags:

@fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleep-and-books // @average-girl-at-best // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @sleeping-and-books // @ttakeitbacknoww // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @empire-of-wildfire // @camerooonchiu // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @tswaney17 // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @flowerspringsea // @chaoticskyy // @the-regal-warrior // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @chemicha // @meltalgel-ig // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @queen-of-glass // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge

[acourtofcouture]

An Insider’s Guide to Throne of Glass: the Kingdom of Terrasen, 1/?

#throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #the assassin's blade #the kingdom of terrasen #an insider's guide to throne of glass #terrasen #orynth #the royal palace of orynth #the palace of orynth #the library of orynth #allsbrook #perranth #caraverre #suria #ilium #eldrys #rosamel #oakwald forest #oakwalk #the florine river #the florine #florine river #perranth mountains #the north sea #north sea