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#throne of glass
quinlars · 22 hours ago
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bitches be like oh, that’s my comfort series and it’s one where the characters suffer for 7 books straight
it’s me i’m bitches
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morganofthewildfire · a day ago
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A Little Song
Rowaelin Month Day 22 - Rowan singing (canon)
-1k words
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Aelin huffed a sigh of relief as the meeting ended, the lords beginning to stream out, leaving her alone and without responsibility for the first time that day. It was one of those days where everywhere she looked there was always something more to do, some sort of task to complete or proposal to sign off on, or endless debate to engage herself in on topics she thought were increasingly mind numbing.
But now she finally had a chance to breathe, and she leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and resting her hand on her still flat stomach, one that would soon grow. Nobody but her and Rowan knew about her pregnancy, as it was still very early, but soon she would be showing, and there wouldn’t be any hiding it anymore. Maybe then she’d have some less busy days, though she also knew herself and knew she wouldn’t want to disperse any of the responsibility that belonged to her.
Even if Rowan would try to convince her otherwise.
He’d probably fuss over her now even, making her take a hot bath and forcing her to let him massage her shoulders, chastising her for stressing herself out so much. Though that actually sounded kind of nice. As much as she teased him for his fussing, sometimes it was relaxing to have someone else take care of her.
Aelin pushed herself to a stand, making her way to the exit of the meeting room. She yawned as she headed toward their chambers, ready to spend the rest of the evening doing absolutely nothing. But when she made it to their room, her mate wasn’t there.
She frowned. His training with the new group of soldiers should’ve ended hours ago, and his schedule was a lot lighter than hers was today. He wouldn’t go to the library, and it wasn’t quite time for dinner yet… she hummed in discontent, meandering down the hallways as she looked for him.
Aelin wasn’t ashamed to admit she was feeling needy. The pregnancy hormones were kicking her ass, and she just wanted to hug him and bury herself in his comforting scent, reminding her of home. So she kept up her walk down the twisting hallways, trying to feel through the bond where he was. And then she heard… humming.
Her brows furrowed, her steps slowing as she passed by the door to the armory, pausing to listen to the musical sound. It was muffled though, even with her fae hearing, so she quietly cracked the door open, peering in just a bit.
It was Rowan. Her eyes and the bond confirmed it.
He was cleaning off some of his favorite weapons, running the cloth along the flat side of his hatchet, and he was humming, or singing, she couldn’t really hear. A small smile grew on her face and she strained to hear the words, to let his deep voice sooth her with its melodic tone.
He didn’t sing very often, no matter how much she begged him too, so she would take advantage of this rare occurrence. She closed her eyes, focusing on the song, and realized he was singing a little lullaby in the old language, one he’d sang to her once after she woke up screaming from the nightmares that still haunted her.
The sound washed over her in waves, and she basked in it, her hand resting on her abdomen, but then it suddenly stopped.
“I know you’re there, Fireheart,” Rowan said, a smile in his voice. Aelin’s eyes flipped open, meeting his green ones as they looked at her, filled with softness.
She took that as a signal to push the door open more and walk all the way in, making him drop the hatchet as she slid into his lap.
“So you’ll sing for your weapons, but you won’t sing for me?” She teased, pouting at him. Rowan just placed a kiss to her nose, making it wrinkle, before brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I sing for you,” he defended, his hands settling on her waist, and she scoffed.
“Not nearly often enough.” Her voice was purposefully lofty. He pressed another kiss to the shell of her ear, travelling with more kisses across her cheek and finally to her mouth.
“If I sing all the time then it won’t be as special anymore,” he said simply, and she scowled at the logic. His thumb caressed her stomach mindlessly, and a wicked smile formed on her face.
“Will you sing for the baby?” She asked, trying to sound innocent. “It’s supposed to be good and all, for them to hear our voices.” Rowan chuckled, but relented, sighing before starting back into his song, a soft little folk song he’d undoubtedly learned back in Doranelle. Aelin curled into him, tucking herself under his chin as he sang, feeling the vibrations of his voice through his chest.
She never felt safer anywhere than she did in his arms, and she knew their baby would agree with her. Her husband was a fierce warrior most of the time, but for his family, he was as soft as could be, and she couldn’t wait to see him as a father, to see him hold their child in his strong arms. And she knew he couldn’t wait either. Just seven more months to go.
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whimsicallyreading · 2 days ago
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For Rowaelin Month day 17
 “A sick day”
CW- PTSD, mentions of violence
Aelin considered herself a fortunate person.
She has survived genocide, her family's murders, losing loved ones, slavery, torture, and the Great War. Now she is a queen, a mother, a beloved Mate.
Her life had changed since those bleak days where she'd wondered if she would ever escape captivity—the days when Aelin didn't know if she would ever be free or find love again. Every morning she woke up curled into Rowan's side, and while she drank her morning tea, Aelin could count on her young daughter snuggling into her lap.
Yes, she was swamped most days, but that was normal for a queen. But even the moments between boring meetings brimmed with life and laughter. Rowan's hand on her thigh beneath the table. Fenrys' theatrics when conversation spiraled off-topic. And even the hardened lords thought it was hilarious when their three-year-old princess barged into councils and demanded her mother's attention.
Her family gathered for dinners at the end of every day. Aelin's little family, Fenrys, Emrys, and Malakai were the regular attendees. Aedion, Lysandra, Elide, and Lorcan joined when they were present. It was a time reserved for family only, and it was by far Aelin's favorite part of the day.
Aelin had a good life now. Her family was growing, and her country thrived beneath her rule.
So it always took her by surprise when a bad day came.
She had woken up fine. Delly had slammed open the chamber door with a gust of wind and squirmed herself between her and Rowan in the early morning. Usually, Aelin treasured the moments when her daughter joined them, but being pregnant again had taken a toll on her sleep.
Rowan tried to stop their child before she entirely collapsed onto Aelin but was a moment too slow. Delly flopped onto her mother's chest in a disarray of wrinkled nightgown and golden curls. Soft sobs were sputtering out of the tiny figure.
I'm sorry. Rowan whispered into her thoughts. He knew how hard pregnancy was on her and took his mate's comfort very seriously. It troubled him that their toddling daughter woke Aelin so abruptly.
Aelin blinks the sleep from her eyes and sends him a happy smile to assure him everything is fine.
"What's wrong, Dell?" Aelin soothes a hand up her baby's quaking form.
Adelia sniffles harder, unable to talk through the tears. She'd started to have bad dreams in recent weeks, but never had she been so inconsolable.
Aelin shifts as Adelia's arms tighten uncomfortably around her bump. Rowan sees her discomfort and reaches around to pull Dell to him instead, but it is met with resistance.
"No," Adelia finally wails. "Mama. I want Mama."
Rowan frowns. Adelia was a daddy's girl to the bone, and this was the first time she'd ever refused to go to him. Their daughter squeezes harder and burrows her face into Aelin's torso.
"Dell," Rowan leans next to her and whispers, a cool breeze brushing against her flushed cheek. "What's wrong little love?"
Adelia lifts her head, and Aelin's heart contracts painfully. Her cheeks are red and swollen from the intensity of her crying, little sobs still stumbling from her chest as Rowan settles her down enough to speak.
"Mama was gone. She was hurt, and she couldn't see me." Dell sniffles, her green eyes glassy. "Can you see me, Mama?"
Aelin tugs her daughter in closer, unable to stand the sight of her so sad. "Yes, of course, I can. I'm right here."
"You were in a box. She wouldn't let me see you," Adelia whimpers in a small voice. "She told me she was gonna keep you. I don't want you to go, Mama."
Aelin's face blanches. It wasn't possible. Her little baby couldn't possibly have seen what was coming to her mind. She looks at Rowan, and his face is pinched with worry.
"It's not real, Dell." Rowan uses a thumb to wipe the tears off her cheek.
Adelia flinches. "Uncle Ress told me it was. He told me Mama had got stollen and put into a box by the bad lady and that she should have stayed there."
Aelin's heart stops. Nausea crawls up her throat, and Rowan tugs Adelia away just in time for her to crawl out of bed and gag into a potted plant. The sickness grips Aelin, the shudders in her arms only growing worse with her daughter's mumbled cries.
"Daddy, I want Mama to stay here." Rowan hushes her and murmurs quiet reassurances. "Don't let her get stollen."
Ress had said that? In front of her daughter? Aelin tries to close her eyes against the visions creeping into her mind. The places her scars used to be ache, and her hands pulse with the remembered pain of reconstruction.
The baby in her womb squirms under its mother's stress, and Aelin throws up again.
She should have stayed there.
Cairn brings the hammer down onto her frail knees, the ringing of cracking bone splits the air.
She should have stayed there.
Aelin opens her eyes to endless darkness. Sweet smoke wafts through invisible holes and sends her to sleep- leaving her mind vulnerable to Maeve's manipulations.
She should have stayed there.
More and more memories swarm behind her eyelids until a pair of grounding arms wrap around her shoulders.
"Fireheart, you are home. You are safe. Can you breathe with me?" Rowan sighs loudly behind her shoulder, and Aelin tries to force her own breath out.
Breathing in is harder, but Rowan's scent fills her nose and loosens the binds on her lungs. Soon, Aelin is doing the exercises independently, and Rowan nuzzles his face into her neck. His hands snake under her bump and lift some of the pressure, easing more of her tension.
"There you are," Rowan kisses her cheek as Aelin comes back around. "Are you okay?"
Aelin shakes her head and sinks into his arms. "Can you take me back to bed?"
Her legs feel like jelly, and her stomach is weak from turning. Rowan lifts her with ease. His arms are warm, and he murmurs sweet nothings into her ear as he carries his mate back to their bed.
"Adelia?" Aelin looks around for their daughter.
Rowan pulls back the duvet and reveals the sleepy from nestled right into the middle of the pillows. "She fell back asleep quickly."
"I can't believe Ress told her those things," Aelin can feel a tear slipping down her face. Ress had never forgiven her for her days as Celaena. Darrow had grown to accept her, but Ress never warmed up to having Aelin as his queen despite her efforts.
She hadn't realized the extent his hatred went.
Rowan scowls as he lays Aelin down next to their daughter. "Ress is young and foolish. I have forgiven a lot of his hostility and ignored most of his juvenile antics, but Aelin, I can't forgive this."
"He should never have said those things to Dell." Ress's words linger in her head. She tried to do right by her title and live up to her parent's legacy. Aelin took a lot of pride in listening to the demands of her people and tending to their problems personally. But the odds of Ress being the only one to feel this way are slim. Did they wish she'd never returned? Was she arrogant to take the crown just because it was her inheritance? She'd never had the formal training as ruler and relied a lot on Rowan to help manage foreign affairs. Despite the loss of her fire, many still feared her and considered her a murderer. No matter how hard she tried, Aelin's history as Adarlan's Assassin proceeded her.
Tears burn Aelin's eyes, and Rowan's scowl deepens. "He should have never spoken of you like that at all."
Aelin shakes her head, "It's his right to think what he wants. Maybe he has a point."
"No." Rowan growls, and Dell flinches in her sleep. Taking a deep breath, Rowan softens his voice. "He's wrong, Aelin. Ress was wrong to scare Dell, and he has no right to demean everything you've sacrificed. You've suffered for your people."
"I closed the lock because I had to Rowan," Aelin argues. "That doesn't automatically make me a good queen. What if I'm failing?"
Rowan pulls their duvet up to Aelin's chin, and Dell instinctively snuggles to her mother's side. Her daughter was a leach for warmth, and Aelin could feel her remaining flames writhing in her veins agitated.
"You are a wonderful ruler, Fireheart." Rowan bends down and kisses her lips reverently. "I've met my fair share of emperors, kings, and queens. None of them have given up so much to better the lives of their people. They care for you in return."
Rowan steps away from the bed, and Aelin makes a displeased noise. "Where are you going so early in the morning."
"I'm awake now. I feel like a flight through Oakwald. Go to sleep, and when you wake up, I'll bring my females breakfast," Rowan pulls on a plain white tunic. "Sleep, love. You both need your rest."
Rowan can read her too well. Aelin can feel her eyes drooping despite how much she wants to deny it. "Very well, but there better be tea and pastries."
As Aelin drifts back to sleep, she swears that a mischievous smile passes across her mate's face.
~~~
"Aelin," Maeve twirls a lock of blonde hair in her fingers. "Where are the keys?"
Cairn twists the blade in her thigh again, and Aelin screams, "screw yourself."
Aelin writhes beneath the pain and the dark queen's gaze. Her torturer goes to twist the blade again, but Maeve holds up a hand. "Wait. There is a smarter way to go about this."
"I won't tell you anything," Aelin gasps, the blood seeping from her thigh pools onto the table. "There is nothing you can do."
"Not even to spare the princess?" Maeve smiles as the cell door opens. Connall walks into the room, a squirming girl in his arms.
"Let me go," the girl screams, and the air in the room turns frigid. Her blonde hair whips around as she twists and fights. The little girl's head turns, and she freezes when she catches sight of Aelin. "Mama?"
"Adelia?" Aelin asks, confused. "You can't be here. You aren't supposed to be here." With renewed energy, Aelin thrashes against her bonds and bares her teeth at Maeve.
Maeve takes Adelia from Connall and strokes her hair. "Such a pretty one."
"This isn't real," Aelin hisses. "I wasn't pregnant when you took me. Adelia was born in Terresan."
Maeve hums a sympathetic note, "It seems you're confused." Aelin fights as the dark queen sits with a frozen Adelia in her lap. "Begin again, Cairn."
A hot iron is lain against Aelin's neck, and Adelia's screams rattle the stone chamber.
~~~
Aelin wakes with a gasp. Her chest is seizing in uncontrollable fits, and little hands cup the sides of her face.
"Mama?" Adelia's concerned face hovers over Aelin's. "Why are you crying?"
Relief washes over her at the sight of her daughter, safe and sound. She tries to take deeper breaths, but her body fights against her. The baby in her womb squirms uncomfortably. Aelin feels guilt that they are so subject to her moods. She tries to open her mouth to speak, consol her frightened daughter, but Aelin can't get any words out.
"Daddy!" Dell screams, frightened tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.
Rowan bursts through the door, "Dell?"
Adelia sniffles and kisses Aelin's face sadly, "Daddy, what's wrong with Mama?"
Aelin grabs at her chest, trying to ease the tightness there. She was scaring her daughter. What kind of mother would do that? Rowan sits beside her, and a cool wind goes up her nose and fills her lungs.
"Fireheart," Rowan lifts Adelia and sits beside her. "Is this a sick day?"
It was the code they'd come up with for the days when the past came back to haunt them. When the turmoil in their mind forces their bodies to rebel, and they can't seem to put on their usual facades. It used to shame Aelin, the days she couldn't rise from bed and do her duty. But her mate's unwavering love soon cracked that lie and eased her burden. Rowan had convincing arguments. Aelin's people needed their queen at her best, and on sick days, she wasn't able to give that to them. Their court was strong. They wouldn't allow Terresan to fall while she recovered. Aelin deserved time to heal.
Rowan must have been able to tell that she wouldn't be able to settle herself this time as his winds continued their push and pull in her chest. "Yes," she rasps dejectedly.
Dell buries her face into Rowan's shoulder. Her mate rests a hand on the side of her face and soothes her cheek. "To whatever end, Aelin. We will get through this just as we do everything else."
Rowan kisses the side of Dell's face. "Little love, do you think you can go to the kitchens and have someone bring Mama tea?"
That fae instinct to fuss rears its head in their child. Adelia perks up at the opportunity to do something useful. "Yes!"
Rowan sets her on the floor, and she takes off in a blur of untamed hair and swishing skirts. They wince as a gust of wind slams the doors of their chambers against the wall.
"She's a handful," Rowan talks, aware of the soothing effect his voice has on her. "But we always knew our children would be. I can't wait to see what kind of chaos our son brings into our lives."
Aelin wraps her arms around him as the remnants of her dreams finally fade away. "You think it's a boy?"
"I know so," Rowan pinches her side, and Aelin smiles. He'd also been confident that their first child would be a girl. His smugness after Adelia's birth was unbearable.
"Rowan," Aelin whispers. "Can we just lay here today?"
"I could never deny you anything," Rowan leans against their headboard and kicks off his shoes. "You don't need to ask, Aelin. It's okay to take time for yourself."
"What if I'm just proving Ress right?" The insecurity slips from her lips before she can stop them. "What if there is someone more capable?"
"Ress won't be a problem anymore," Rowan rests a hand against her bump, and the baby withing kicks at it, bringing a smile to his face.
Aelin narrows her eyes, "What have you done?"
"Nothing that anyone will blame me for," Rowan assures. "He would be in a lot more trouble if the rest of the court learned what he said in front of Dell. Ress should be grateful I didn't do a lot worse."
Aelin sighs, "I don't understand why I can't just let it all go. Why do I allow myself to be so haunted?"
"It's not that simple," Rowan shakes his head. "I'm hundreds of years old, and no matter how many years pass, there are things from my past that haven't healed. The mind is different from the body, and sometimes it takes longer for it to recover. There is nothing wrong with that. You gave up everything for the people you loved."
"Because I had to," Aelin contradicts.
A hardness comes over Rowan, "because no one else could."
Rowan rolls over her body into a plank and looks deep into her eyes. "No one else that day would have made the same sacrifices out of love. Not even me. I was too selfish to let you go. You gave up everything, and by the strength in your soul, you came home to me. In all my decades, I have never met someone so remarkable, and I never will again. Take as many years as you need to recover, Aelin. This world owes a debt to you, and I will make sure it pays. You deserve every happiness."
His hand threads through one of hers and drags it up to rest on the bump between them.
Happiness.
Dell darts back into their room, a cup of tea sloshing in her hands as she runs. "Daddy, I put extra sugar in it. Uncle Fen is coming with more cups, but I made this one special."
Rowan pulls away from her, and the laughter on his face is contagious.  
Aelin smiles and accepts the tea from Dell's hands. She even manages a few sips without cringing from the sweetness. Fenrys follows behind her shortly and sets a fresh cup covertly on her bedside table.
There may be hard days, Aelin realizes as her family gathers around her, but the love they showed her every day made it all worth it.
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snelbz · a day ago
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Tempting the Fates {Chapter 9}
Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?
A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.
Word Count: 3378
Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.
Tempting the Fates Masterlist
Shelby’s Masterlist
Tara’s Masterlist 
***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!
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Hestia
– Goddess of the hearth, home and family
Mondays and Wednesdays always seemed to drag.
Thanks to her lack of Rowan in class, Aelin’s classes were boring and she found herself thinking of other things, rather than the notes she was supposed to be taking. Like the way Rowan’s eyes had been on her as she went down on him in the shower earlier than morning.
At his insistence, she’d begun using his shower for more than just sex purposes, as she’d so eloquently explained to him the week before. She was regularly staying over, getting ready for her own classes in the morning, just as he was. But whenever one of them followed the other into the tiled shower, it was used for practical reasons.
As well as sexual ones.
Suppressing a whine as she thought of the way Rowan had pinned her up against the cool tiles that morning, Aelin crossed her legs and checked her watch. Only another twenty minutes and then she had her break between classes. She wasn’t hungry, thanks to the protein bar she’d eaten just before this class started, and she was close to the gen ed building, so she decided she would drop by her mythology professor’s office. She had a few questions about the homework he’d assigned yesterday and face-to-face was always better to her than an email.
Once her anatomy professor was wrapping up, Aelin was tossing her books into a bag and hauling ass across campus. Rowan’s last class was wrapping up, too, and she didn’t want to miss him before he hurried off to do whatever else.
She could’ve texted him to stay put, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
She made it to his building and dodged by those who were hurrying off to their other classes or their beds, and stopped at Rowan’s office door before giving it a halting knock.
It took him a second to answer, but when he did, he was handsome as ever.
His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the button down tucked into his trousers. When he saw it was Aelin at his office door, a silver brow lifted.
“Aelin,” he began, clearing his throat. “How may I help you?”
“I have some questions about the homework,” she began, voice low, even though no one else was around. “Can I come in for a second?”
Rowan moved aside before she had finished her question. With one last glance down the hall he shared with a few other first-year professors, he shut the door, sealing them into his office. The blinds were open, but on the third floor, it wasn’t like anyone could see the private meeting he and his student were about to have.
Even if he didn’t know what kind of meeting it was about to be.
“Are you on your lunch break?” She asked, leaning back against his desk.
He nodded. “Didn’t plan on taking lunch, but I’ve got a couple hours before my next class. Was going to work on some grading. Why?”
He had stepped closer, pausing beside one of the chairs he kept in front of the desk for students to sit in.
Aelin clearly had other ideas of where to sit though. With a smirk, she reached out and lightly gripped his shirt, pulling him towards her.
“You had questions about the homework,” he breathed, leaning away as she tried to kiss him.
It wasn’t that he wouldn’t kiss her. He just wanted to see her squirm.
And squirm, she did. “You know very well that I turned in the homework yesterday afternoon.”
She tried to kiss him again, but he fell away, even though his arms were around her waist.
“I don’t recall that,” he taunted. “Maybe you could remind me.”
“I turned it in just before I did this,” she crooned, and her lips found his.
Aelin kissed him, slowly, her arms snaking around his neck. She swore she would never tire of the feeling of his mouth on hers.
“Oh yeah,” Rowan muttered, against her lips. “Now I remember.”
It only took him a second to grab her hips and set her on top of his desk.
There was a clattering of something tipping over, probably a cup of pens or paper clips from the sound of it, but neither of them cared. Not as he gripped the outside of her thigh where her legs were wrapped around him, or her hand found its way into his hair. He was both frustrated and very glad she’d worn leggings today. While he wished she was wearing something with a bit easier access, it was probably a blessing in disguise that he couldn’t get his hand between her legs.
Or his mouth.
Or any other body parts.
That wasn’t stopping Aelin from rubbing against him, looking for friction, as their tongues battled and teeth occasionally clashed. She let out a quiet moan and he tugged on her hair, pulling her lips from his.
“We’re not fucking in my office,” he breathed, looking her in the eyes. “It is way too dangerous.”
She nodded, knowing and accepting the fact, but it didn’t mean she was done kissing him.
“Was this morning not enough?” He smirked, trailing his lips down her throat instead of returning to hers.
“It’s never enough,” she gasped. “Every time I’m away from you…”
Her words trailed off as their lips met. It was true. It was never enough. She was so fulfilled with Rowan, and the second he was gone, she longed for him.
“Come over tonight,” Aelin begged. “Stay with me tonight.”
Rowan groaned as his tongue slipped between her lips.
They stayed at Rowan’s nearly every night. The only times Aelin stayed at her own apartment was when she had an exam or homework she had to work on, without Rowan distracting her. Lysandra and Aedion had met Rowan over dinner a few nights before, though Aelin had insisted take out was much more her friends’ speed than a fully home cooked meal. However, Aelin had a lab due the following morning, so after dinner, Rowan had gone back home.
Alone.
“We have class tomorrow,” he replied, lips still on hers.
“So we’ll make sure we get up early.” Dragging her teeth across his jaw, she gripped his shoulders. “Bring over everything you’ll need to come straight to class.”
Rowan hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“We don’t live on campus,” Aelin said, quietly. “It’s not like I live somewhere surrounded by students.”
Rowan pulled back and met her gaze. “It’s important to you?”
Aelin nodded, arms still wrapped around the back of his neck. “I love being cooped up in your apartment. I really do. But, sometimes I wanna be cooped up somewhere else, too.”
Rowan huffed a laugh. “Alright.”
“Yeah?” Aelin asked, a soft smile painted across her light pink lips.
Rowan couldn’t help his own smile forming as he leaned forward and pulled Aelin closer to him as he kissed her, softly. They went on like that, dwelling in those slow, prolonged kisses. There was something personal, something exceptional about a long, slow kiss. Something sensual that made Aelin’s stomach feel like it was going to explode, even though it lacked that animalistic passion they had come to find within one another.
A quick knock at the door had them jumping apart, Rowan dragging a quick hand through his hair, not having a chance to reply before the door opened.
“Hey, Rowan, I was hoping you could— Oh.”
The pretty woman froze in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her.
It was innocent enough, though Aelin’s lips were swollen from their kisses. That could easily be explained away, especially as her teeth found the bottom lip and gnawed on it.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had an appointment,” she said, eyeing Aelin, who had thankfully gotten off the desk before she’d entered.
“It wasn’t officially booked,” he explained, slightly stepping in front of Aelin to keep her shielded. “Miss Galathynius had a few questions about the homework I assigned in class and about an upcoming project. She stopped by during her lunch break, since her schedule is so busy.”
Silence built in the office, and after a second, Rowan cleared his throat. “Did you need something, Remelle?”
“Maeve sent out an email about a mandatory department meeting for Thursday night,” she said, slowly, still looking at them both suspiciously. “A couple of us in the building were going to get drinks after, wanted to know if you wanted to come.”
Rowan cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll plan on it.”
“Good,” Remelle said, a little too quickly. “And check your mailbox in the office. It’s full.”
With another look at Aelin, then at Rowan, Remelle left and the door fell shut behind her.
Silence enveloped the room.
Rowan slowly turned around to look at Aelin, whose face was pale.
“You couldn’t have locked the door?” she whispered.
Rowan scoffed. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t have been suspicious, being locked in here with a student.”
For some reason, the word student felt like a jab coming from him in that moment. Aelin’s back straightened. “I wasn’t aware that the receptionist randomly barges into your office. If a student found it locked, they probably wouldn’t think it was weird, at all. Offices around here are locked all the damn time.”
Rowan sighed and nodded. He stepped towards her and ran his hands up and down her arms, pressing a soft kiss to Aelin’s forehead. “You should go. There’s only so much we can talk about homework.”
Nodding, Aelin wrapped her arms around his waist, and he wrapped her up in his own. “I’ll see you after class?”
“I’ll run by my place to grab some things and pick up dinner on the way,” he promised, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’ll see you later.”
She nodded and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. Grabbing her bag from the chair, she adjusted her messy bun, which was only a little messier than it had been before and slipped out the office door.
Leaning back on the spot Aelin had just been sitting in, Rowan took a quick moment to breathe before setting his desk to rights and heading down to check his community mailbox. It wasn’t full as Remelle had implied, but there were a few things in it, mostly department memos and notes from other professors. He ignored her suspicious look as he made his way back up the stairs to his office and settled behind his desk to work on the grading he’d planned to do during his lunch.
He was halfway through an essay from one of his upperclassmen when his email dinged on his laptop. It had gone off a few times since Aelin had left, but he’d ignored them, assuming they were automatic replies to Maeve’s email about the meeting.
Tapping on the track pad of his laptop to wake it up, he kept reading over the essay as his email came to life, but he waited until he was done to look over at the most recent notifications.
Freezing, Rowan’s eyes flashed over the subject of the email from Maeve three times before he actually had the nerve to open it.
Meeting in my office after your final class of the evening.
We need to have a talk.
*
Aelin felt as if she had been holding her breath for hours.
Which was exactly how long it had been since she had received her text from Rowan.
As someone who was not nervous or paranoid by nature, she hated the feeling of being so freaked out that she was nearly about to vomit. She had already cleaned her apartment once, and was pouring herself a glass of wine as she was deciding what she could clean next. Maybe she would clean out the fridge.
After downing her glass of wine, she did just that, throwing open the refrigerator door and emptying out what had been in there for over a week.
She didn’t even hear the front door open, nor did she hear her roommate and cousin walk into the kitchen.
“Ace?”
Aelin yelped, jumped, and spun around, nearly knocking over her glass of wine on the counter nearby. “What the hell?” she yelled. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that! Doesn’t anyone realize how fucking rude it is to just barge in?!”
Aedion’s brows shot up as Lysandra stepped forward. “Uh, everything okay?”
Aelin’s face fell into her hands as she leaned against the countertop. “Does it look like everything is okay?” she asked, words muffled.
“What happened?” Lysandra asked, gently prying Aelin’s hands from her face.
Her eyes were still shut, as if she could shut out the world. Taking a deep breath, she released it, answering in one, quick burst. “I think Rowan and I got caught.”
She heard something hit the floor, clearly dropped by Aedion, but Lysandra’s hands went slack on her wrist. “What do you mean?”
Letting her head fall to the countertop, she groaned once before standing up straight and looking at them. Aedion had indeed dropped the bag of pretzels he’d pulled from the cabinet.
“We both had long breaks today, so I stopped by his office to see him for a minute. I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I mean… Yeah, I kinda did. I kissed him first.”
“I don’t need to hear about this. Lys can fill me in,” Aedion muttered, scooping the bag of pretzels off the floor and heading for Lysandra’s bedroom.
“We didn’t fuck or anything,” Aelin sighed after he left. “But we did make out on his desk a bit. It was barely even PG-13.”
“So what happened?” Lysandra asked, getting another glass down and refilling Aelin’s glassed wine and filling one for herself. “How did you get caught?”
“The secretary walked in,” Aelin said, staring at a spot on the hardwood. “She didn’t see anything, we broke apart before the door opened, but… I don’t know. She sounded suspicious, looked suspicious.” Aelin took a sip from her glass. “I mean, seriously, who knocks but doesn’t wait for a come in before they open the damn door? It’s rude as hell.”
“I don’t wait before coming into your room,” Lysandra said.
“That’s different, we live together,” Aelin said, unable to control her chuckle.
Lysandra smiled, but it faded as she shook her head. “That man needs to learn how to lock his office.”
“That’s what I said!” Aelin agreed, and topped off her glass before it was even halfway empty.
“So, what?” Lysandra went on. “She came in but didn’t see anything. Maybe she just always looks suspicious. I’m sure nothing will come out of it.”
Without another word, Aelin took her phone out of her pocket and slid it across the counter. Lysandra slowly picked it up and read Rowan’s text.
Got an email from Maeve. I have to go to her office tonight. Says she needs to talk to me. Sounded urgent.
Aelin had texted back. Did she say what it was about?
No, Rowan had replied. But it doesn’t sound good.
“Have you heard from him since he sent these?” Lysandra asked, setting the phone down.
“No, but we’ve both been in class.” Aelin let her head fall to the countertop again. “He’s supposed to come over after he gets out. But now I’m wondering if that’s such a good idea. What if someone sees him getting here?”
“It’s not all students, and we’re not exactly social butterflies. We don’t know any of our neighbors,” Lysandra said, clearly trying to soothe her.
Aelin just shook her head. “I like him, Lys. A lot. I can see a future with this guy, but… What if this is all too much? It’s too dangerous. We’re jeopardizing our futures.”
Lysandra’s eyes softened. “The secretive part of your relationship is only temporary. Besides, he’s head over heels for you, too. Would it really be worth it to give that up?”
“What if Rowan is about to lose his job?” Aelin shot back. “Lys, I would never be able to forgive myself. I have to do something.”
“Always the hero,” Lysandra muttered. “Look, the best thing you can do right now is stay here, drink wine, and let it all play out. Rowan is a big boy. He can handle himself.” Aelin said nothing, so Lysandra went on. “I just want to see you happy. Does he make you happy?”
“Beyond. Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but… I care about him.”
“And it’s pretty damn clear that he cares about you, so sitting and waiting sucks, but that’s what you’ll have to do.” Lysandra crossed the kitchen and wrapped her best friend up in a hug. Aelin’s forehead fell to her shoulder. “I can send Aedion to get more wine if you want.”
Aelin nodded.
Lysandra chuckled and said, “Then that’s what we’ll do. Why don’t you—?”
A knock on the front door had Aelin’s head snapping up and she hurried from the kitchen. Throwing open the door, she found Rowan standing on the other side. Before he could say anything, she pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Gods, I’ve been so fucking worried.”
To her surprise, he laughed quietly, and it only caused Aelin to lean back, eyes wide. “What could possibly be funny right now?”
“I’m not I’m trouble,” he whispered, arms going around her waist. “We’re safe, we’re fine.”
Aelin blinked, all anxiety fading from her body only to be replaced with confusion. “Why did Maeve call you into her office, then?”
“She just wanted to check how things were going.” He shrugged. “Being new, and her nephew, she just wanted to check in.”
“Gods, Rowan!” She shoved his chest, lightly. “You couldn’t have texted me that? I’ve been a nervous mess!”
“She’s not exaggerating,” Lysandra mumbled from behind them. “Hi, Professor.”
Rowan rolled his eyes. “Hi, Lysandra.”
As Lysandra headed towards her room, he looked down to where Aelin was staring at his chest. He tilted her chin up until she was forced to look at him. His brow furrowed and he was surprised to see silver lining her eyes. “Everything is okay, baby. Why are you crying?”
She shook her head and blinked, but wasn’t able to stop the single tear that spilled over. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I thought we got caught, that I had ruined your life.”
His heart nearly broke. “Aelin…” He wrapped her up in his arms again, holding her as tightly as he dared, as if he could keep her from falling apart. After a second, he leaned back so he could look at her, but didn’t let her go. “Being together isn’t a decision that just one of us has made. We both went into this relationship knowing the consequences. If something were to happen, if someone finds out, you aren’t ruining my life.”
Aelin snorted, and framed his face in her hands. “So we’d both be ruining your life?”
“No one’s life will be ruined,” Rowan promised. “I’m going to be with you, Aelin. Now, and when you graduate, we can have a normal relationship, whatever the hell that means. If you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s a big promise to make so early in our relationship,” Aelin breathed, running her thumbs across his cheeks.
“I have a good feeling about us,” Rowan followed, melting into her touch.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, but pulled back and smirked. “But maybe I’ll start locking my office, just in case you decide to make another unexpected visit.”
Aelin threw her head back and laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she rose up on her toes to kiss him again.
The day had stressed them both out, but throughout it all, there was only one thing Rowan could think about: he didn’t know what his future held, but there was one thing for sure.
He wanted Aelin in it.
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fullmetalneverland · 2 days ago
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"You cannot pick and choose what parts of her to love. Just as you cannot pick which parts of me you accept."
-Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire
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sydneymack · 2 days ago
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Rowan and Aelin - Throne of Glass
Artist: @whimsicalillustration
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llyncooljones · a day ago
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happy toddler, happy life - rowaelin month day twenty-one.
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ao3 || masterlist || rowaelin month masterlist || day twenty || day twenty-two
author’s note: the fic is cute, oh so very cute. btw, if you want to be added to the tag list please please please send an ask. i don't check my replies etc frequently enough to double-check. asks are easier and simpler.
word count: 932
trigger warnings: language.
tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp @rowanaelin @surielandiareendgame @fireheartwhitethorn4ever
the streets of terrasen, midday.
Rowan Whitehorn is famed for many things.
Honourable things like murdering a man by ripping a table leg from a table and stabbing a man with it, like flattening cities and towns and villages at the snap of his fingers, like shedding blood so far and wide that nobody isn’t aware of who he is.
He’s famed for his brute strength, the ten-year absence he had from the world after the death of his wife and unborn child, for the tattoo that tells a story tears always accompany.
But these days, these happy, happy days, he’s famed other, much more honourable things.
More honourable things as keeping his young daughter with him, carried against his chest in a sling, at all times he could – whether in court, training the guards, walking through the bustling streets of Terrasen. It doesn’t matter, young Princess Ariden Whitehorn-Galanthynius is always with him.
As the houses of happy citizens pass by in his peripheral. His hand stays glued to the covered back of his toddler, the size of his hand allowing it to span her whole back and around her front as well. Her cheek is smushed into the green tunic he wears, her little, fisted hands hanging limply by her side, swinging ever so slightly as they walk.
Her blonde curls make a mess atop her head, the ringlets crazier than her mother’s hair after she fell asleep with damp hair, a mistake the Queen makes very rarely.
He pulls his eyes from the light of his life, just in time to avoid a rouge cat as it runs through the streets, hopped up on adrenaline. He lets out a low chuckle, smiling as his daughter’s head knocks with the shakes of his chest.
“I’ll never understand it, Ro, how that daughter of ours…” His wife trails off, her eyes smiling as her lips stretch to form a mischievous grin.
“How this daughter of ours, what?” He knows it’s bad, if she’s grinning like this, he just knows he’s going to end this conversation blushing and shaking his head affectionately at his wife.
“Seems to prefer her father’s tits to her mother’s—”
Aelin’s words are cut off when Rowan lets out a loud laugh, eyes turning to face him as he both covers his daughter’s ears (lest she be corrupted by the foul mouth of her mother) and damn near doubles over with the force of his laughter.
“—It isn’t even like yours give her anything. Mine, my tits? They sustained her life for many, many months of nipple torture. And not the kind I like, big man. And here she is, lying her cute little head on yours and not mine. The audacity of this one-year-old, I can’t.” Despite the nature of her words, the attention they draw from the small crowd in the streets, her face is stone-cold now, not a hint of the humour they held just seconds ago.
Rowan knows it’s only a façade, knows she only does this to garner his sweet, sweet attention. Make him feel guilty (lovingly, obviously) and pull attention and affection from him.
A kiss to the crown of her head, a tug on her braid of her ponytail, a light swat of her behind, even the brush of his wind against her.
Any of that and she’s all smiles and laughs again.
“Aelin, the love of my godsdamn life, I promise you. She very much appreciates your tits, but you have to face it, no matter how hard it may be. Mine are better.” His tone is cheeky, a smile evident in his tone.
At the loud, booming laughter of her parents, little Ariden rouses from her sleep. Her eyes stay screwed closed while her mouth opens in a gummy smile, her tongue poking out slightly. Her head shakes left to right, her hands fisting tighter than before and rising up to whack him in the chin.
After a few moments of waking up, Ariden’s eyes pop open, the turquoise ringed by gold, light in any darkness. Framed with perfect, blonde lashes, she’s an angel sent from heaven and Rowan and Aelin have never felt so blessed.
Aelin leans over her mate, placing a sweet kiss to their daughter’s temple and running her nails softly over her mess of curls. Aelin then scoops her daughter up and out of the sling, swinging her high and then placing her on her hip.
Pressing a hand to his heart, like a scandalised mother, Rowan stares at the love in his mate’s eyes. He loves the light his daughter draws from Aelin, the shine in her eyes that only he and his daughter can place there.
Standing in place, Aelin shakes her body a little, her hips moving in order to jiggle their daughter from side to side, up and down. Laughter bursts from their child, shrieks of laughter and happy giggles interspersed within the witch-like cackles she favours.
A fact Manon adores, if their child has no witch blood, Manon will settle for a classic witchy cackle.
They continue their walk through the suburbs of Terrasen, stopping and saying high to frequent visitors, popping into shops and buying bits and pieces for themselves, for their daughter, for friends, and for family.
By the time they reach the castle, Ariden is asleep again, against Rowan’s chest, and Aelin is leaning sleepily into his side while his other side is weighed down with their shopping and gifts from citizens.
All in all, the day was simply perfect, and he wouldn’t exchange it for the world.
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morganofthewildfire · 2 days ago
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The Magic of Snow
Rowaelin Month Day 21 - rowaelin and their toddler princess (canon)
-1k words
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“Mama!”
Aelin rolled over, burying her face into her sheets, but the voice persisted, beginning to drag her out of the nice long sleep she’d been having.
“Mama!” She groaned, cracking her eyes open, seeing her husband still blissfully asleep, knowing their daughter was calling for her not him. Their daughter. A soft smile rose to her face and she rubbed at her eyes, looking toward the source of the voice.
“Mama! Wake up!” Princess Eliott Whitethorn-Galathynius said, and Aelin reached out a sleepy hand, brushing back hair and tucking it behind her daughter’s ear.
“What’s wrong, little bird?” She asked groggily, but the little girl was jumping up and down, not showing any signs of distress.
“It’s snowing!” Eliott exclaimed. Aelin shifted her head to look out one of the many windows lining the queen’s suite, and sure enough, it was. The ground far below had turned into a field of icy white powder, the sky dusty with fluffy clouds, looking soft enough to be a nice comfy pillow. Or a playground, which was likely what her daughter was thinking.
“Oh is it?” Aelin asked, leaning over to heft the little girl up onto the bed. Eliott squealed in laughter, stumbling as she landed on the comforter. And she didn’t quite get her feet under her, falling into Rowan with adorable giggles. Her liar of a husband caught her, showing he’d probably been awake since the door first cracked open. He was like that. Always attentive, always aware.
But Rowan didn’t let their daughter go, tickling her sides instead. Eliott squealed again, fidgeting as she moved to get away.
“No, dada!” She laughed. “Let me go!”
Aelin was dying of laughter, and so was her mate, and so was their little princess, making her heart warm. It was nice that after all this time, all she’d been through, she got to have moments like this.
Rowan finally relented, but Eliott was still giggling, burrowing herself in the comforter between them. “Can we go play?” She asked, and Aelin tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear.
“In a little bit baby,” she answered quietly, still waking up. “It’s too early. The sun’s not out yet.”
She pouted, turning to face Rowan instead, a hopeful expression forming, but he chuckled and shook his head too. “Like your mom said,” he answered, “we’ll go in a little bit.” Eliott whined but conceded, sliding under the comforter to cuddle in with her parents. Aelin relished the connection, pulling her in closer, with Rowan wrapping his arms around both of them, keeping their little family safe.
-----
The next thing she knew she was outside in the snow, laughing as their daughter tried and failed to throw a snowball at her. Eliott cried out in frustration, her little blonde locks hidden under her knit cap, and the next one she threw, Aelin knew her mate helped her out a bit, his magic sending the snowball right into her face.
“Agh!” Aelin spluttered, wiping her eyes as her daughter clapped and giggled. Aelin looked at her, a mischievous grin growing. “Oh it’s on now.” She bent down, collecting some snow to squish into a ball. Eliott squealed as her mother threw it, hitting her gently on the shoulder. And Aelin went to throw another one, but Eliott ran, making her chase after her, until…
“I’veee got you!” Rowan yelled jokingly as he grabbed Eliott and yanked her into the air, making her squeal again. Their daughter wiggled in his arms, laughing and giggling as he swung her around. Rowan even went so far as to throw her, making her scream, but caught her on a little cloud of his magic, making her eyes grow in wonder.
“I’m flying mama!” Eliott exclaimed. “I’m flying!” Aelin couldn’t stop the giant smile on her face, her heart too warm to be chilled by the cold as she watched her daughter.
“Yes you are, my little bird!” Aelin said happily, and Rowan used his magic to move her around, the little princess spreading her arms like wings to flap around as he made her fly. “You’re flying so well!”
Aelin’s magic didn’t have much place in the winter wonderland, but she still made a little hawk out of flames to fly alongside the girl, making her smile grow. Rowan spun her around a few more times before setting her gently on the ground, though Eliott stumbled on her little toddler legs, falling butt first into the snow.
Despite her insistence on a snow filled playtime earlier, the little girl was apparently unprepared for the cold and wet of it, because her lip started trembling, tears filling her eyes as she started shivering.
“Oh darling,” Aelin cooed, dropping to her knees in front of her. “It’s okay, it’s just a bit of snow.”
“I’m cold,” Eliott said, her voice small. “It’s too cold.” Aelin smiled softly, flames coming to her hand as she held them up to her daughter.
“Here you go,” she said, “here’s some warmth.” She sent her magic trickling over her daughter, warming her up and drying her off. Eliott sniffed but stopped crying, falling into her mother’s arms when she held them out.
“Can we go inside?” She asked, and Aelin chuckled, standing up and looking over at Rowan, who smiled back at her.
“Of course we can,” she smacked a kiss to Eliott’s forehead. “We can go inside and you can take a hot bath and then we can have a little lazy day in bed, how about that?” Eliott nodded, burrowing into Aelin’s neck, and Aelin rubbed a hand up and down her back, starting the walk back into the castle.
It was something she’d never thought she’d be able to have, a family, but here she was. And she wouldn’t give it up for the world.
taglist:
@lexflame @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @shecriesallthetime @rolltide7 @sleeping-and-books @tottenhamboys20 @firestarsandseneschals @yesdreamblog @jlinez @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @booknerdproblems @1islessthan3books @ireallyshouldsleeprn @imaginedhaven @fangirlprincess09 @lauraisfae @claralady @sassys-world @booksbqueen @aelinashryvergalathynius18 @sexy-dumpster-fire @http-itsrebecca @perseusannabeth @throneofmak @emilyoftheshadows @poisonous00 @thegoddessofyou @highqueenofelfhame @chieflemming @thesurielships @annejulianneh111 @tomtenadia @aflickeringsoul @woollycat22 @empire-of-wildfire @jesstargaryenqueen @gracie-rosee @wanderingjpg @cicada-bones @shyvioletcat @thewayshedreamed @rowaelinismyotp @miserablesmusings @grandma-noob-lord @myworldofbooks @danibutterr @wordsafterhours @vanzetanze @dangerouscherryblossompenguin @sailorsassley @rainbowcheetah512 @live-the-fangirl-life
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whimsicallyreading · a day ago
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Prompt for Rowaelin Month days 21 and 22
“A toddler princess” and “Rowan Singing”
Credit- The songs belong to “Oh Hellos”
"There will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword. He will tear your city down a lay a lie oh lore."
Aelin stays quiet in the doorway as she watches her mate swing their daughter around the kitchen. Adelia's skirt floats around as Rowan turns in circles, his melodic voice echoing through the empty room. She giggles into her father's shirt as his feet move faster and faster. Winds whip around the room, and Aelin's fire flickers in her soul as it aches to join in her mate's playfulness.
"There will come a poet whose weapon is his words. He will slay you with his tongue a lay a lie oh lore."
Dell belts out the chorus with Rowan, and Aelin has to stifle a laugh with her hand. This was their third rendition of the song, and they still hadn't noticed her presence. Aelin was in no hurry to make herself known. The sweetness of the moment filled her heart with such contentedness.
There was a deep peace on Rowan's face as he gazed at their daughter. Dell's golden hair and sea-glass eyes were the perfect mixture of the two of them, unmarked with tragedy or sorrow. Seeing her daughter so carefree and happy renewed Aelin's hope every day.
Encouraged by Dell's belly laughs, Rowan lifts her above his head and spins. "There will come a ruler whose brow is beat and worn. Sealed with a mark like Brannon's child a lay a lie oh lore."
"A lay a lie oh lore," Adelia sings between fits of giggles. Rowan tosses her in the air, propelled by a gust of wind that lowers her safely back into his grasp.
As their song fades to the end and Rowan's dancing slows, Adelia wraps her arms around his neck. Aelin could feel tears in the corner of her eyes at the look of surprise on her mate's face.
He was so undone by his baby.
Aelin herself was sometimes overwhelmed by the amount of love their daughter brought forward in them both. Dell was everything good thing they had left in their souls personified. It was just so startling to see a legendary warrior brought to his knees by a child. Her heart throbbed with love for them both.
"I love you, Daddy. Can we do it again?" Dell looks up at him, and Aelin knows there is no way Rowan will refuse her.
"Only if Mama can join us too. I think she is feeling left out," Rowan looks at Aelin with knowing.
Rowan had known she was standing there the whole time. There was no pulling any wool over his eyes when it came to his mate.
Aelin smiles and walks up behind him and wraps her arms lovingly around his waist from behind. Dell smiles down at her mother as she stares down from her father's arms. "Daddy sing another song?"
"Only if he sings my favorite," Aelin whispers conspiratorily.
Rowan hums and turns so that he can pull Aelin into his chest. Once his family is wrapped securely in his embrace, he begins to sway to a much calmer rhythm.
"Hello my old heart, how have you been? Are you still there inside my chest? I've been so worried, you've been so still. Barely beating at all."
Aelin lays her head against his chest and tightens her grasp. Swaying in time to her mate's voice as it washes over her.
Dell's lays her head on the opposite shoulder, and her eyes droop as her excitement quickly weans to sleepiness. Rowan's voice had always calmed her. Even when she was just a restless babe still in her womb.
"Oh, don't leave me here alone. Don't tell me that we've grown, for having loved a little while. Oh, I don't want to be alone. I wanna find a home and I want to share it with you."
Aelin closes in her eyes and soaks in her family. For now, they weren't royalty or soldiers. They didn't have a destiny, and their pasts did not exist in this room.
It was just them.
Their little family and the love they shared.
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ganseys-jane · 19 hours ago
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friendly reminder that sam cortland loved celaena so much that he made arobynn promise he'd never lay a hand on her again as the price for his forgiveness
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ninamorozova · a month ago
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I saw this challenge on twitter and I love it!
I choose the amnesia pill but I doubt between the sacrifice pill or the travel pill.
Tagging @melhavilliard @darklingswhxore @darklings-simp @zoyalai @lilisouless @clubofthestarlesssaint @nihilism-sophia @theoncomingeasternwind @zoyaslai @nerdvanafandomheart @koroleva-nazyalensky
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writtenonreceipts · 2 days ago
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Rowaelin Month Day 20: Rowaelin and their toddler
Rowaelin Month Masterlist My Main Masterlist
notes: thanks for reading my dears!
The Peace of the Heart
“Ma! Ma? Mamama!”
The little voice was impossible to ignore. Not that Aelin would ever ignore it to begin with, but the cheery little cry echoed through the palace halls and rang with such intensity that everyone would know who was speaking and who would respond.
Aelin smiled as she quickened her pace and turned down one corridor heading deeper into the castle, desperate to follow that little voice.
She'd spent the better part of the morning in meetings and training sessions and the like.  It wasn't as though Aelin disliked her duties as Queen. Most of the time she loved it. She loved knowing her home was safe, her home was happy, that her home was hers.
Yet sometimes, it was the hardest duty she would ever fulfill.
Especially when it felt like she never had time for her mate or her daughter.
“Ma, ma, ma.” The chant continued with a litany of song.  Aelin shook her head amazed at how loud the girl was, even with Aelin’s Fae senses--her daughter was quite energetic.  Every day Maira was becoming more and more like Aelin, so of course she was loud and brazen and confident.  All at the age of two.
She found herself in a familiar part of the palace while following the mate bond. She tugged on the cord that stretched between her and Rowan. A chuckle ripple down in response.
Whatever her mate and child were involved in, Aelin was sure it was no good. But she couldn't resist as she snuck toward the great hall.
Typically the great hall was only used for major gatherings or visits from foreign dignitaries that weren’t Dorian or one of their other friends.  
At the moment, the hall was empty except for the hanging chandeliers. Wide stained glass windows took up one wall and allowed for a scintillating array of color to lapse in the room. Greens and blues and yellows and reds all came together in a lovely display.
As magnificent as it was, Aelin had eyes only for one thing.
Her mate. 
Rowan stood in the center of the hall, moving slowly from side to side. In his arms he held the small form of their daughter on one hip. 
“Da, dance,” Mairi said.
“Aye little one,” Rowan murmured his deep voice soft but still strong enough to them through the room. “We’ll dance and show, Mumma.”
Aelin watched as her mate spun in a circle causing Mairi to break out in a fit of giggles.
“Again,” Mairi said and Rowan obliged. Again and again.
“Mama! We dance,” Mairi shouted suddenly.
Aelin froze, instantly outed by her snooping. 
“Look at you little princess,” Aelin called out with a grin. She shouldn't have been embarrassed by the scene but there was something about watching her mate dance with their sweet babe that had Aelin’s heart in a stumble.
“Fireheart,” Rowan greeted, his eyes bright as Aelin moved across the stone floor.
“Well who knew you were so talented, dear king,” Aelin teased as she reached them. She gave Mairi a tender kiss on the forehead before reaching up to capture Rowan’s mouth with hers. 
The warmth in her chest burned hot and Aelin placed a hand on Rowan's cheek melting into him
“No kisses!” Mairi yelled urgently.  Her little hands tugged desperately at her parents to push them apart. “Dance!”
“Dance?” Rowan repeated. “We've already danced, little love.” 
“Again,” Mairi declared, her blonde curls bouncing in her face. She pouted and despite her bright green eyes she looked exactly like her mother. “Again. With mama.”
Aelin ran a hand over her pregnant belly and laughed. Mairi seemed to sense things would be changing and that she would be sharing her parents' attention. 
It was strange, Aelin had decided, to think about their growing family. To have another babe so soon. A miracle among the fae to be sure and yet Aelin couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at the thought of having another child in her care. And while she already loved the baby growing in her womb she continued to doubt her abilities as a mother.
A small draft of air chilled her neck.  Far too direct and distinct to be from a window left open.  Aelin narrowed her eyes at Rowan.
He raised a brow in response. 
“Fireheart.”
“Buzzard.”
Rowan pulled Aelin close with his free arm, close enough that Mairi was nearly squished between them, but the girl didn’t seem to mind at all.  Rather she hummed happily and snuggled deeper into her father’s chest.  Slowly, Rowan began to move in a lazy sort of dance.  One of unpractised steps and uncounted measures.
“You are incredible,” Rowan murmured, looking down at her. “An incredible Queen, and incredible Mate, and an incredible mother.”
Aelin blinked back the inevitable tears that threatened. Her emotions had been rampant ever since the start of the pregnancy and now was just as bad.
“No talking, dancing,” Mairi said. She wiggled in Rowan’s arms emphatically.
Chuckling, Rowan spun the three of them again keeping the turn easy and light for Aelin’s nausea.  
“Mama,” Mairi murmured, sleep already coming over her.
“Yes, little princess?” Aelin whispered back.
“Love you.” The little voice had lost the gusto from earlier and began winding down.
Aelin didn’t bother trying to hold back the tears in her eyes. “Love you.”
Rowan pressed a kiss to her forehead and hummed softly, a familiar tune that Aelin often played on the piano he had gotten her long ago.  Aelin pressed her forehead into Rowan’s shoulder and sighed.  She couldn’t help but marvel at what the fates had given her, that after all this time she had found peace.
tags:
@morganofthewildfire // @aelinchocolatelover // @sexy-dumpster-fire​ // @bamchickawowow //  @ireallyshouldsleeprn //  @courtofjurdan //  @sassys-world  //  @sleeping-and-books  //  @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard //   @firestarsandseneschals //  @rapunzel1523  //  @booksofthemoon  // @fangirlprincess09  // @highladysith  // @tillyrubes10  // @bri-loves-sunflowers // @rowaelinismyotp // @sheharahu // @1islessthan3books // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @vanzetanze // @jlinez // @foughtconquered // @thenerdandfandoms // @acciowests // @cassianscool // @thegreyj // @acourtofsjmtrash // @story-scribbler  // @hellasblessed // @rowaelin-cressworth // @jesstargaryenqueen  // @amoretheiwa // @jorjy-jo // @danibutterr @live-the-fangirl-life // @foreverfallingforthestars // @strangevil321 // @pastasiren // @beanco8 // @whimsicallyreading // @infernoqueen19 ​ // @mis-lil-red ​ // @lemonade-coolattas ​ // @themoonthestarsthesuriel // @scribbled-semantics // @realbookloverproblems // @ghostlyrose2 // @rainbowcheetah512 // @story-scribbler // @tanvee1231 //
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llyncooljones · 2 days ago
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you're sick, not superwoman - rowaelin month day nineteen.
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ao3 || masterlist || rowaelin month masterlist || day eighteen || day twenty
author’s note: this, this i am proud of. i kinda love it. also, if I had a man like rowan, who took care of me like rowan, i simply would not let him leave. ever.
word count: 1291
trigger warnings: language, illness.
tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp @rowanaelin @surielandiareendgame @fireheartwhitethorn4ever
the castle, the early hours.
Early mornings are the work of evil.
No one will ever convince Aelin that early mornings serve a purpose beyond making people pissed off and upsetting those in the world who need more than a couple of hours of sleep to function, let alone be a nice person.
Let alone be a fucking Queen.
As she lies flat on her back, her pillows propping her head up slightly and keeping blood flow around her body (or so healers have told her in the past), she curses the existence of early mornings. Because, why?
She feels the sweat beading on her forehead, she feels the matted, tangled roots and ends of her hair, she feels the fever as it flows through her, she feels the nausea as it swims vicious cycles in her stomach and lower belly.
She rests a hand against her stomach, allowing her fingers to spread out and cover more skin. It feels more soothing when Rowan does so, the way his hand provides an icy release from the constant fever she has while ill.
Today, however, Rowan isn’t at the castle.
He, his intoxicating presence, and her will to fucking live, have been gone across the country for three weeks. Three, long and suffering weeks. Three weeks of feeling this illness creep up on her, the faintest symptoms to begin with up until last night when her fire had burst out from her, the virus attacking her ability to control her magic, to control the rabid flame that exists within her.
Moaning quietly, she turns to her side and curls her legs up and into her chest, like a child. Every inch of her aches, her skin ablaze while somehow the same temperature of ice. All she wants is a firm arm around her, the whisper of the Old Language in her hair, the pine and snow scent of him, him.
All she needs.
Knowing she won’t get it, knowing he isn’t back for another three weeks is all the motivation she needs to get out of bed. Hugging a hand to her side, and the other at the small of her back, she takes a few stumbling steps to the bathroom. Stood before the mirror and basin, she looks like hell.
She kind of wants to cry, the amount of magic it will take to make her appear disease-free and happy to be alive will take all her energy out of her, the only remaining kernels working to ensure her kingdom doesn’t burn down alongside her insides.
Brushing her hair and splashing some cold water on her face pulls energy from her like nothing else, her arms aching with the effort to hold the brush high in the air.
Ten minutes, later she’s emerging from the bathroom looking somewhat presentable. Holding her head high, in practice for the way she must whilst in meetings and other such events.
The dress in her closet is simple for a queen, but she’s never been too interested with looking like a pile of diamonds and silk. More in how effectively she can reach the knives placed on her body while the dress is on her should she happen to be attacked. By an attacker who made it past her security measures, Lorcan, Aedion, Fenrys, and her mate (when he’s in-country).
Slipping it on, tying it up and facing herself in the mirror once more, Aelin sighs heavily, tired and brought down. Her shoulders are sinking in, she seems shorter as she hunches against the pain.
She dons a pair of slippers on her feet and shakes her head, as if to shake the thoughts from her mind. Stepping from the closet she and Rowan share, her nerves are shaking in her body, everything aching something fierce.
Before she can open the door to their chambers, a blast of icy air hits the small of her back—a slight reprieve from the relentless fire of her fever. So welcome she almost doesn’t realise what it means.
Upon realising, she draws in a heavy breath and turns quick enough for her weak head to spin, her body crying out when she lays her eyes upon the massive frame of her mate, her husband. The way his hair is shaggy, his eyes bright but tired, the way they speak to her.
“Aelin, what in the name of all the Gods are you doing out bed. I can feel how weak you are through the bond. Fireheart, you shouldn’t be moving right now. Let alone preparing for meetings and a day’s work.”
“I’m fine, you insufferable buzzard, I’ve suffered through worse. You won’t catch me in bed until I physically can’t move.”
“Aelin,” he intones, his voice conveying his annoyance as well as his concern, “I was close enough to you when you did get out of bed, to know you were cutting it so very close.”
Frustrated with her husband, she turns her back to him once more, her face sad and her eyes telling a story she doesn’t want him to see, she doesn’t want him to realise just how sick she’s been without him here, without the strength he can lend her.
“Bed, right now. I don’t give two shits that you are the queen. I knew you when you couldn’t shift to your fae form, I knew you before all of this grandeur. Don’t think you can pull queenly duties and get away with neglecting yourself. I won’t stand here and let you.” While she wants to protest the fae male bullshit, she can’t help the way her heart blooms at his words, the way her body lights up ever so slightly at the way he cares for her in a way no one else does.
She still refuses to turn, refuses to move and sit back on the bed. She remains (barely) standing with her arms folded and a scowl set upon her features. It isn’t until she registers the slow and methodical steps towards her, that she realises Rowan really won’t take no for answer.
His scent invades her, bypassing her blocked nose and her lack of smell and taste as a result of her current state. He bends at the torso, one hand under her ass and the other cradling her spine and middle back. With very little effort, he lifts her onto his shoulder gently and rubs one, calloused palms along her spine in greeting.
Aelin wants to protest, but she’s so weak in the arms of the male who loves her, and she loves back, that she can only sink into his body and let him carry her away to their bed. The cool sheets meet her body as he places her onto the royal bed, bending slightly to place a kiss against her temple.
With the gesture, she’s out like a light.
the castle, around midday.
Her eyes are heavy as they blink open, tired and weighed down by the side effects of the infection. Her head throbs as the light of midday meets her, her body lethargic and languid. She feels the bulk of an arm wrapped around her, anchoring her to her husband. The bare skin of the torso meets the bare skin of her back.
Realising Rowan must have stripped her once she had fallen asleep makes her blush. For what reason she doesn’t know, the things he does to her bed should ensure such a menial task doesn’t bother her not-so-delicate sensibilities.
Maybe it’s the care he gives, the way he disregards the contagious symptoms of her disease and cuddles her close–refusing to leave her cold and alone.
She smiles faintly, as his arms wrap tighter around her middle, and closes her eyes again.
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