There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me
Doranelle, 1972
Rowan’s breath was heavy and echoed as he panted, locked into the small bathroom. His hands on the white sink held him up right. His knuckles were as white as the ceramic of the sink, his grip just tightening every time his mind started thinking again.
He’d stupidly thought his day would go well. That the last two days were nothing more than a bad dream and that things would be fine at work. That was until he stepped behind the bar on the side of the pool, with a direct view of the water.
She was right there. She wasn’t a fragment of his imagination, she was real and she was right there. But she wasn’t the only one relaxing into the pool in the early afternoon. Her husband was there too, his arms around her waist as they soaked into the water.
For two days, Rowan had held on. He kept his head up and pretended as if everything that happened between them was history. That it was forgiven and even forgotten. But watching her kiss him, smile at him… He couldn’t.
He rushed to the bathroom, and had been hiding there for almost an hour now. He was sure to be in trouble if a manager found him there, if they knew he left one side of the bar unattended.
It took everything in him to not punch the mirror hanging on the wall. He had to take his anger out on something, but he didn’t want to hurt his hand. If he did, cooking would be a pain to do for at least a couple of weeks.
What had he done to deserve that? He’d always been rightful, he never went out of his way to hurt anyone, and yet these entities were having fun with him lately. Why did it have to happen? Why does what he will never get had to be shoved and rubbed into his face?
A loud pounding startled him, he’d been too deep into his hideous thoughts to notice anything else. The banging on the door didn’t stop, and he heard Lorcan’s voice through the wood calling his name.
He sighed, unlocking the door, letting in his friend into the room. He closed the door behind him, resting his back against it. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He hissed. “I have been looking for you for more than an hour.”
“Leave me alone.”
Lorcan shook his head. “You’ve been looking like shit for two days now, Rowan. Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”
“I don’t particularly want to,” Rowan grilled through his teeth, splashing nearly freezing water onto his face. Maybe this would stop his brain from working, from remembering what she looked like in his arms.
“Too bad,” his friend answered. “I’m not leaving until you speak. And we both know how much you enjoy people’s company,” he said with amusement in his voice.
Bastard.
Rowan took a deep breath. Lorcan knew Aelin, he knew more than anyone else about their complicated history. His fists shook, his hold on the sink tightening even more as he said. “Aelin is here.”
It wasn’t often that Lorcan was wordless, but today it happened. He swallowed before whispering, “Shit.”
Rowan snorted. He didn’t even know the worst. “She is here with her husband.”
“Her what?”
He threw a look at his friend, he had perfectly heard what Rowan said. It took a few seconds for Lorcan to take this information in. He passed a hand over his face, letting out a small groan. Rowan huffed a laugh, at least he wasn’t the only one reacting that way. “Has she done it on purpose?”
“No,” Rowan couldn’t answer fast enough. That was the problem with Lorcan, he was always quick to imagine the worst when it came to the woman who still held Rowan’s heart years after. “She was as surprised as I was. It’s just fate screwing up.”
“Have you talked to her?”
Pain sliced through his chest as he remembered the two interactions he had with Aelin. So, so different from the dreams he allowed himself to create in the dead of the night for the last six years. “She pretended like she didn’t know me. Then her husband came in and went all territorial on her. That was…”
“Disgusting?”
“Yeah,” Rowan sighed. He still could remember how much he drank that night to try to forget the sight of her kissing his cheek. His goddamn cheek, as if she was no more than a schoolgirl in love with her first boyfriend.
And the next day, when she came to him with her chin high and they started bickering… Did no one notice that small sparkle of insecurity in her eyes? Did everyone fall for the lie she presented for the whole world to see?
He shook his head. It wasn’t his problem. Not anymore, not after what happened all these years ago. She had made her choice back then, it was too late now. The damage was done, but a small, tiny part of him wondered if it hadn’t wounded her as much as it did him.
“What are you going to do?” Lorcan asked, and Rowan shook his head, staring down at the sink.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “try to avoid her, I guess.” He sighed. He didn’t know how in the world he’d accomplish that, but he had to do something besides letting the shit storm of tension between them boil over into something even uglier than it already was.
“How well has that worked so far?” Lorcan asked derisively, and Rowan shot him another glare.
“Fuck you,” he shot, without too much venom. The brunette man just snorted.
“Fine,” Lorcan said, “I’ll let you sort out your own shit.” He roughly pushed open the bathroom door. “Just get your ass back to the bar before we both get in trouble.”
He slammed the door behind him, leaving Rowan in silence once again.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, scrubbing at his face, before standing up straight, balling that same hand into a fist. This wasn’t sustainable, he knew that. He didn’t even know how long she was going to be here.
How long he’d have to put up with her presence, pretending like it didn’t affect him. She was the one who’d ruined things, she should be the one flustered and embarrassed, the one in pain. But no matter how long it’d been, or what happened, he couldn’t wish her any sort of pain at all.
He wouldn’t.
And the truth came to him unbidden: to get through this… this ordeal, he’d have to talk to her and sort this mess out.
------
It wasn’t hard to find Aelin. Every afternoon for the past few days, she’d come to the swimming pool.
The hard part, on the other end, was thinking of a way to talk to her alone. She was constantly surrounded by her herd of women. All of them were drinking the same things, all of them dressed the same way. All of their hair was the same, their make-up, even down to their nails they all looked alike.
Aelin had fallen into that, too. And yet, she still managed to stand out to him. Everyone around him would see a group of women, while all he saw was Aelin who happened to be surrounded by other women.
His eyes were always drawn to her.
The one good thing he noticed was that her husband didn’t seem to be around her all that much, besides a few times that continued to make his stomach turn. Rowan supposed he was off with the other rich men, talking about business or other women or whatever they did to entertain themselves.
So he wouldn’t have to work around him, whose name he’d discovered to be Arobynn Hamel. He’d heard of him, surprisingly enough. Arobynn Hamel was a rich businessman from Rifthold, though what business he didn’t know. Idly, Rowan wondered how they’d met, when Aelin had decided to move to Rifthold, if that’s what had happened.
Was it after what happened between them? Just next door at the rundown beach hotel she’d probably be scandalized to stop in now?
There was so much about her life he didn’t know anymore, yet he knew it wasn’t really his place to know. But all he really wanted to know was: is she happy? It was difficult to tell, Aelin was always good at putting on an act, even if the two tequila shots she’d downed like water just the other day worried him.
He knew drinking had been a vice for her, at least it had when he’d known her briefly six years ago. Was it still? Or had she matured from that since then?
So many questions, and absolutely no answers.
None of it really mattered anyway. She’d broken his heart. The lingering tenderness left for her didn’t change that, nor change their situation. She was married; she’d be here for another week or two at the most; and then she was leaving again.
Again.
He’d set boundaries with her, and then let her go about the rest of her vacation, hopefully with both of them in peace.
He got his chance early afternoon the next day, when Aelin left her gaggle of women at the pool to head toward what he assumed was the bathroom.
“I’ll be right back,” he said to Lorcan, his eyes still on her as she headed up the nicely paved path toward the bathrooms. His coworker just grunted, and Rowan took that as a signal to go, slipping out from behind the bar and trying to casually catch up with her.
He’d be heralded as a creep if he was seen chasing after her, and likely berated by his manager or even fired if she decided to complain.
Walking quickly behind her, he got a view of her profile from behind, the only thing recognizable about her the color of her hair. Said hair was smooth and wrapped up in a clip on her head, not loose or in a braid like she always used to have it. Sunglasses were propped on her eyes, to combat the sun beating down on them, even through the palm trees placed on the path for some semblance of shade.
She was wearing a semi modest one piece, different from the bikinis she wore when she was eighteen, with a tasteful skirt wrapped around her waist as a sort of coverup.
He took his chance the moment they were finally out of view of the pool, silence creeping into the air as the trees absorbed some of the fading sound.
“Aelin,” Rowan called, slowing to a stop, and he watched as she went a bit rigid, turning to face him with a blank expression. She didn’t speak. “Can we talk for a moment?”
He couldn’t see her eyes, but her soft pink painted lips pursed as she undoubtedly considered the offer, before nodding tensely. He glanced around, looking to see if anyone was coming.
It was empty.
There were more private places they could go, but if someone managed to come across them there, it would look a lot more suspicious than them talking here, where he could excuse it away as a service request of some sort.
There was so much he’d planned to say, so much he’d had ready to demand and question, but now, looking into her unreadable face, not even being able to see her eyes, there was only one thing that came out of his mouth.
“Are you okay?” He blurted out, successfully shocking both of them. But he didn’t take it back.
Aelin lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head, her eyes narrowed slightly at the question. But now that he could see them, he could see the wariness behind the ice.
“What do you mean?” She asked, an edge to her voice. A warning to stop talking. But he didn’t.
“Look,” Rowan said, “I don’t care about what happened last time.” Lies. It was such a lie, and he was almost convinced she knew that. “I just want to know if you are doing… okay.”
She crossed her arms, looking around. “Look at where I stand, look at what I am wearing. How could I not be alright?”
“Because this,” he said, talking about her new-found wealth. “Is not everything that matters.”
Her fingers dug into her sun tanned skin where she was holding her arms, tension visibly pouring through her. “That’s subjective,” she said, keeping her chin up. “Who are you to say what matters to me?”
She was so damn stubborn. She always had been.
He huffed, trying to figure out where to go from here. He’d already strayed so far from his original intentions, but maybe this was really what he needed to set his mind at ease.
His gaze settled on the diamond ring shining brightly in the sun.
“Is he good to you?” Rowan asked quietly, and she blinked. “At least tell me that,” he continued, shaking his head. “I can put what happened behind us, and I can be civil while you’re here, but I at least need to know that you’re safe, and that you’re happy.”
Aelin didn’t say anything, her face carefully unreadable, and Rowan took the risk of stepping closer to her, slowly setting his hand on her cheek, giving her plenty of time to pull away.
She didn’t.
Her skin was smooth under his palm, and he softly brushed his thumb across her cheek, looking down into her eyes. They were wary as she looked up at him, but there was no hint of protest so he dared another step forward, only inches separating them.
They were out in the open, for anyone to see walking by, but his mind ignored it, completely focused on her. On the way her breath felt against his lips as he tilted his head down, his heart beating fast.
“Tell me you miss me,” he murmured, the tension sparking between them, “Tell me you miss us.”
“I can’t,” she whispered, but she didn’t pull away. He lightly dragged his thumb over her bottom lip, and the way her breath hitched did dangerous things to him. He leaned in even closer, watching as her eyes fluttered closed and she lifted her chin, preparing for their lips to touch.
But he couldn’t.
So he pulled away, stepping backward and putting space between them. Her eyes opened, her cheeks flushed in the heat. Clearly embarrassed, her mask went back on, leaving him staring once again at a stranger.
Or so he told himself. But it was a lie, because the woman standing in front of him was suddenly much less of a stranger, and much more the girl he used to know.
And with that, he knew he’d just made everything a lot worse.
------
Aelin couldn’t stop shaking. Sitting by the pool for the rest of the day, she couldn’t get the feeling of Rowan so close to her out of her mind. She couldn’t forget the way she’d wanted him to close that gap, to kiss her and steal her breath, make her feel everything she used to feel when she was with him.
Her stomach was a mess of heat, and her hand was trembling as she pressed it against her cheek, right where his had been only hours before.
It wasn’t fair of him to do this to her, to say that to her. Tell me you miss us.
How could he put that in her head? This was not right, and he knew it. They couldn’t talk, they couldn’t act friendly without this sparkle between them, and he knew it. He still sought her out, though.
And she had accepted to talk to him, if only because she longed for his voice. And then, he started touching her. In the open, in public. As if it was right, as if Aelin hadn’t been risking every bit of security she had fought for.
Now, all she could think about was his lips. Their warmth, their softness and how rough they could feel on her skin. All she could think about was how she hadn’t known true pleasure in six years, so much that she had convinced herself it only existed around him.
She had kept her sunglasses on her nose the entire afternoon, avoiding any eye contact with him. And even if she was almost in need of a cocktail, she wouldn’t address him or his brute of a friend she now recognised as Lorcan Salvaterre.
The less she had to remind herself of Rowan Whitethorn, the best it was. For both parties.
Arobynn would come back soon, this was all the distraction she needed. She would get ready for yet another meal in the hotel dining room. Another night of not being talked to and being shown off.
But Aelin welcomed the distraction of getting ready, the distraction of pretending for a night. She was good at that, pretending. Except when Rowan was around, then he could read her too easily.
When he was around, she was not the woman she had grown into. The woman she created, the woman she was learning how to love. No, when he was around, she was that little girl who refused to wear skirts and cried the first and only time his mother braided her hair.
Aelin hated that girl. She was so… weak. She wouldn’t be weak anymore, not ever. She was a new person now, a better one.
She looked up from her book to find Rowan’s eyes on her. Did he never have a break? She had barely seen him leave his place behind the bar the entire afternoon, actually the only time he left was when he followed after her.
But even the other days… She hadn’t seen him take a break, neither had his coworker, not that she particularly pitied that one. As teenagers, Aelin and Lorcan couldn’t stand each other and she still had enough pettiness in herself to admit she didn’t want it to change.
Another reminder of her former life.
She hadn’t worked a lot in her life. Her only work experience had been shortened by her meeting with her then-boss, now-husband. But even then, while working as his secretary, she had at least a break every few hours.
Aelin stood, gathering her belongings and informed her companions, who were just the other wives who couldn’t care less about her, that she was returning to her rooms. She wished she could leave without having to warn people, but her image was also Arobynn’s. So Aelin was careful.
On her way to the elevator, she stopped by the reception and asked to speak to a manager. Then, with a sweet smile but cunning eyes, she expressed her worries for the working staff under such high temperatures with so little time to rest.
The man she was talking to couldn’t care less, but when she flashed her diamond ring by passing a hand through her hair and slipped her last name into the conversation, she knew that he would listen. If only for the money her husband had invested in this hotel.
She hoped word of this exchange wouldn’t reach Arobynn, or anyone else for that matter.
The less questions the better, instead of leaving her husband wondering why she was suddenly so invested in workers’ rights. He certainly wasn’t. And he hadn’t married her for her intellectual prowess, he’d told her many times.
But, she left the manager with a half baked promise to see to some changes, and satisfaction at the slight fear she’d put into his eyes with a few subtle threats. She had some power, due to her social status, that she wasn’t allowed to use often.
It made it fun when she did.
Her head was still all over the place as she made her way back to her hotel room, her sandals clicking on the marble floor. Arobynn wasn’t in there when she made it to the door, using the keycard to unlock it.
Aelin had thought the plan was to go to dinner, but the note she quickly found on the coffee table in the living room proved her wrong.
Going Out. I’ll See You Later.
With his initials signed at the bottom, like she wouldn’t know who it was from.
“Okay,” she said, to an empty suite. No one replied, no other sound was made, it was silent. She sighed into the open space, kicking off her shoes.
Who knows when he’d be back. She had no means of contacting him, she was just supposed to sit here and look pretty, maybe call room service and watch a movie.
And if she sat here all night, by herself, she knew for a fact she’d got lost so far into her head, she may not make it back out.
She had to do something. She had to go somewhere.
Without thinking, she found herself quickly changing, throwing on a flowy white dress instead of her bathing suit, and grabbing her purse. She slid back into her sandals, and left the hotel room quickly, heading down to the lobby.
The hotel had some fancy cars for the guests to take on “drives” down the coast, just yet another feature they had to boast over the other resorts around here. She could take one of those, and… and do something.
She just couldn't stay here. Or she’d do something stupid. Like drink herself into oblivion, or cry, or even worse, go find Rowan and beg him to kiss her, to pick up where they’d left off earlier.
Down on the first floor, in the hallway to the lobby, she was walking so quickly, a frantic energy nipping at her heels, when she nearly ran smack into another woman heading her way.
“Oh!” Aelin exclaimed, steadying herself as she took a step back. “I’m sorry.” She blinked, pushing hair back behind her ears, and got a good look at who she’d ran into. “Clarisse, hello,” she said, forcing a smile. “Where are you off to?”
The blonde woman was all dressed up, her makeup meticulously done and her hair in a curled updo. Much more done up than she’d been earlier at the pool.
Clarisse just smiled oddly, like she knew something Aelin didn’t. “I’m going out for the evening,” she answered. “What about you? You look… nice.”
Aelin couldn’t even blame her for the lack of a compliment, because she was sure she didn’t look nice. She probably looked manic, or at least edging the line of agitation.
“Just taking a walk,” she answered back, trying to hide her still shaky hands.
“Well,” Clarisse said, beginning to continue her journey. “Have fun.”
And then she was gone, leaving Aelin wondering what the hell just happened.
-------
Within fifteen minutes, Aelin was flying down the road in a red convertible, having no idea where the hell she was going.
She’d whipped out of the hotel parking lot, probably a little too quickly, leaving her now just driving along the coastline, with no clear destination in mind, getting onto the highway even, and speeding down the streets that her mind was unconsciously taking to.
It had been so long since the last time she had been behind the wheel of a car. Arobynn refused to let her drive anywhere if he was in the car as well, and as she didn’t do much that didn’t include him, she didn’t have a lot of time spent driving.
Back when she was still eighteen, right after they had married, Aelin begged Arobynn to let her take driving lessons. He didn’t enjoy the idea but he hadn’t fought her on it either, and she had been gifted a magnificent red car when she finally passed the test.
The roads of this city seemed familiar to her, even if she had spent most of her life in Rifthold. Still, Rifthold had never felt quite like home. Doranelle always did. Maybe it was why she hated it, why she hadn’t enjoyed the idea of coming back here for this summer.
She found herself driving through the street of the neighborhood she knew too well. It wasn’t wealthy by any means, but she also knew there were worse parts of the cities. In the streets, as a kid, she’d always felt safe. Only in one house did this feeling evaporate.
Kids were playing outside, getting their last few minutes before being called inside to dinner, moving to the side when they heard her car’s engine. Some parents glared at the red, bright car. Aelin felt guilty, exposing her wealth here. She didn’t know why it was here, but it wasn’t to show off how better than anyone there she did. She had nothing to be proud of, she had just married into wealth.
But Aelin didn’t care about that. She was in a stable, calm life now. It was all she dreamed of when she played hide and seek in those very same streets.
She turned left and found herself where she spent a few years of her life. She ignored the old, plain-looking house on her left and came to a stop in front of the one on its left. Warmth spread into her as she remembered all the days she spent in that house, all the laughs she had with Rowan and his family, when they invited her to play board games with them.
A curtain fluttered in one of the windows, a tiny sign of movement, and Aelin was pressing the gas pedal, moving down the road to escape any notice of whoever may be inside. The thought of seeing his parents now… especially his mother.
Aelin didn’t know what she’d do. She wondered sometimes if Liana Whitethorn ever knew how much she truly meant to her. If she knew that Aelin wore her hair in a braid down her back every day for over a decade, just because of her. That chocolate cake became both her favorite dessert, and the dessert she could never get herself to eat.
The thought of Rowan’s mother seeing her now made shame curl in her gut, the one thing to finally get past the crusted layers of self flagellation and fear.
What would she think? What would she say?
That line of thinking brought her to another dangerous one.
What would life be like if she’d ended up with Rowan? If she hadn’t done what she’d done, and his mother was her mother too?
The path she’d rejected years ago was suddenly paved with gold.
Unconsciously, Aelin found herself not heading back toward the highway to go back to her husband, but instead circling back around and entering that quiet neighborhood yet again. And this time, when she carefully slowed to a stop in front of Rowan’s house, again ignoring the one next door, her eyes landed on something she hadn’t seen before, something hidden in the shadows of the trees.
“Fuck,” Aelin cursed, letting the language slip out. Arobynn didn’t like it when she cursed, so she tried not to around him. But she was alone.
She put the car in park, scrambling for her purse, and the cigarettes inside.
Another thing Arobynn didn’t like. But she ignored it as she used the lighter to catch the end of one, sticking it in her mouth and shakily breathing in the smoke and the nicotine it promised.
She hated this habit herself, she hated where it’d come from and what it meant for her, who it connected her to, but she was weak. And she needed it.
Because Rowan had built her a treehouse.
It was right there, built carefully into the trees lining the border between his property and hers, looking as cozy and safe as he’d promised. Promised, right before she’d left for the first time. She was always doing that - leaving. But what else was she supposed to do? It was for both of them, not just her, she just bore the brunt of the sacrifice.
But every time, it became harder and harder to push him away.
He’d built her a godsdamned treehouse. Even after she’d left. He’d built it, because he wanted her to have her own place, even if he didn’t truly understand why. Because he was good, and he cared for her, more than anyone else ever had and much more than she deserved.
“Oh gods,” she breathed, pressure forming behind her eyes, making her head hurt and feel dizzy. She couldn’t cry, she couldn’t. If she did, she’d never be able to stop.
She hit the steering wheel with her fist, before resting her forehead against it, squeezing her eyes shut to keep those burning tears inside.
Tell me you miss us.
She sighed, her voice quiet as death in the still night. “I do.”
A story co-written with the great @morganofthewildfire
Warning: Use of alcohol, language, NSFW / Word Count: 6,800
Doranelle, 1966
The sand was hot beneath his feet as he ran toward the corner of their makeshift court, just managing to hit the ball before it hit the ground, setting it up for Lorcan to hit it back over the net.
Rowan had never considered himself a volleyball person, but they’d found a ball in the makeshift “activity center” at the rundown hotel and here they were.
It certainly wasn’t the nicest place out on the coast of Doranelle, the giant resort right next door proved that immediately, but it was perfect for their quick vacation to celebrate high school graduation. Neither he nor any of his friends had any real money of their own yet, without any real plans to go to college either. He and Lorcan had picked up construction jobs for when they got back, and Fenrys was going to be working at some car place.
Connall was the only one going to college, the academic one of the group.
Rowan’s parents had floated the idea of him going, but were supportive of what he really wanted to do. He wanted to open a restaurant, at some point. But that was for the future, now was just a time to relax. Probably the last time he’d be able to for a while.
Aelin knew that sooner or later, it would have to come out. She was also aware that the more she waited, the more she pushed away the raging storm of emotions that kept hitting her in the chest since this afternoon, the worse it would be when she let go.
For now, she contained it all inside. She’d mastered a few breathing skills a couple years back, skills that proved to be useful as she sat at the huge, round table and kept her composure.
Her gown was itchy and uncomfortable, a little too tight around her ribs which made it hard to practice the breathing skills she was so fond of. Conversations were flowing around her, husbands talking business while sipping on their glass of whiskey. The wives were gossiping, as they always were.
The new scandal they adored to talk about day and night was about Mr. Allsbrook’s daughter. She ran away from the parental house and eloped with a farmer boy she’d met at the market only a month before. It was certainly unconventional in this glamourous world, but Aelin didn’t think it deserved all the nasty words that came out of the women around the table.
It had been a little more than five years since Aelin entered this new world. She and Arobynn had married fast, too. Only five months after meeting. She knew rumors had run back then. People wondering if she was pregnant, if her husband was trying to hide a bastard.
Even if she had been born and raised in a much lower class than Arobynn and everyone around here, it didn’t make such a scandal as it did for Miss Allsbrook.
Still, Aelin was acutely aware of the labels glued to her back in bold, red writing. She’d heard the whispers, Clarisse DuVency, wife of William DuVency who happened to be a close collaborator of her husband, had called her a money-sucker once, four years ago.
She knew she didn’t have any friends or allies around this table, or even outside of this hotel, back in their main residence in Rifthold. She was alone, in a room full of people.
She glanced at the door, as if she could see the outside. Aelin had marvelled all day, spending long hours walking around this hotel and admiring every sign of beauty and wealth. Arobynn had rolled his eyes, something she didn’t acknowledge. He had grown up into this wealth, it was nothing to him while it was everything she dreamed of.
And it was only attainable thanks to him. She was where she was, she was who she was thanks to his generosity and his love.
And yet, Aelin looked away, wishing she could see silver hair and green eyes looking at her in a manner that could only be described as consuming. Suffocating. Not in a bad way, there had only been pureness in the way Rowan looked at her. No, it was suffocating because she had no idea how to look at him the same way.
Every instinct in her body, in her mind and soul shouted at her to run away. To get the hell out of Doranelle and wait for her husband peacefully at their house. But doing so would require asking Arobynn for authorization, and it meant she’d have to tell him about her history with the beautiful waiter. She couldn’t do that. Because it was their thing, and she wanted it to stay that way.
But she didn’t want to face the man she’d refused six years ago, the man who had turned her world upside down not once, but twice. The man she broke, which resulted in breaking her as well.
Aelin had no idea he’d be here. If she had known, she would’ve tried to find some excuse to convince Arobynn to pick a different place for their vacation, though she wasn’t sure what she would’ve said.
This was where everyone important went, therefore it was where they needed to go as well.
That was how it went in their household. Arobynn was always clambering for more influence, and she was expected to play the part of a high society wife. She couldn’t complain, and she didn’t. It wasn’t a difficult role, and if that was what she had to do to stay in this life, to stay secure, then it was well worth it.
Even though sometimes, she felt like a spectacle of sorts. Like everyone was watching her, judging her, waiting for her to fail. Like she was on a pedestal for their amusement, spinning around and around, looking for someone to finally see the real her.
Rowan had. But despite her dreams, or her delusions, she knew that the real her didn’t deserve anything as good as him.
After all, wasn’t that all she’d learned her entire life?
Aelin glanced over at her husband, whose arm was thrown over the back of her chair, conversing with the man on his right.
She never quite knew for sure how she felt about him, how she felt about the marriage, despite them celebrating their fifth anniversary this year. Arobynn certainly wasn’t the nicest man in the world, he could be blunt, he could be sharp, but that was only to be expected from someone like him. She could handle it, she’d been forced to handle much worse.
But, he’d provided for her. He’d swept her out of a hopeless situation and offered her a life full of wealth and glamour. There was no more wondering where the next meal was coming from, no more having to fight everyday just to make it to the next one. No. She was safe, she was healthy, she was secure.
And that was all she needed.
Did that depth of gratitude equal love? She was sure it must. It was the only love she’d ever felt moderately comfortable in. Not all consuming, sweep you off your feet love that rocked the ground beneath her feet, jostling her so much that she wasn’t sure what way was up and what way was down.
This love was calmer, more… more manageable. More realistic for someone like her.
Aelin leaned over and kissed his cheek, before relaxing back into her chair, keeping a smile on her face as she looked around. But it became a bit difficult when she realized there was no one there for her to talk to.
Arobynn was occupied to her right, and the woman to her left was looking away from her, chatting with the woman on her other side, effectively ignoring Aelin.
So she simply stayed quiet, swirling the champagne in her glass as she waited for her food. They’d only been out at the pool that afternoon for a few hours, before going back inside to change for the first dinner of vacation. Social hour.
Aelin knew Arobynn didn’t personally know everyone here; why would he? They lived in Rifthold. But she did know that he would make it his business to know everyone by the end of their stay. It was his nature.
And with how expensive this place surely was (she wasn’t allowed to know much about their finances) it was clear that everyone here was from some sort of prestigious background. Except for her.
Aelin didn’t like thinking about her childhood very much, about her parents and the situation she’d ended up in, the situation she’d been stuck in until she moved out as fast as she could at eighteen, unconventional for her age and for the time.
Rowan had been the only bright spark, and well, that bright spark had been snuffed out by her never ending darkness. She didn’t mind the darkness anymore, at least not as much as before.
It was her oldest companion, and who was she to reject it? It was the most constant thing in her life.
William scoffed, rolling his eyes which only accentuated the wrinkles on the border of his eyes. She didn’t know his exact age, it wasn’t a proper question to ask, but she supposed he was a little older than her husband. Even well into his forties, Arobynn was handsome.
“This place isn’t as sophisticated as everyone said,” the older man complained. Then, with disdain and disgust he added, “Have you seen those horrors on the wall?”
He looked at the painting hung on the left wall of the dining room. It pictured three pairs of eyes, something Aelin had been intrigued to for the entire dinner. It was more interesting than any discussion that was held around this table.
The first pair of eyes were masculine and blue, so blue they looked almost violet. The artist had done such a good job at painting the agony in those eyes that Aelin felt punched in the guts. The man suffered, that was something Aelin could be sure about.
The second pair of eyes were warmer, and yet in the way they looked away from them, Aelin felt insecurities. As if that man never felt enough, always left like lesser. Aelin could relate to him, almost as much as she could relate to the sadness clouding the violet eyes. This man was maybe like her, never fitting in.
The third pair of eyes were hazel, and they held such anger it was almost terrifying. She felt like looking away from him, by fear of causing this man anger. And yet she didn’t, because there was still that hint of hope in his eyes. Hope to be loved. Hope to belong to someone.
“I believe the artist did an amazing work,” Aelin spoke for the first time. She felt Arobynn’s arm behind her stiffen.
William frowned, “Young people call anything art these days, it’s idiotic.”
Aelin shrugged, not backing down. “Art’s purpose is to awaken feelings within you, even if they are ones of dislike. Art is only art because of the—“
She was cut off with loud laughs coming from every man at the table, soon followed by their wives. Arobynn was the last one to laugh, his arm wrapping around her shoulder and squeezing her a little too thighly.
“You’ve got a loud one right there, Hamel,” laughed an older man whose last name was Havillard, she was pretty sure. “She better not give any ideas to mine.”
Arobynn chuckled, his grip in her stiffening a little more. Loud? She’d barely voiced an opinion, one that was true and valid. But Aelin didn’t say anything, she only smiled politely as her husband answered, “That she is.”
He leaned into her to kiss her cheek, a gesture that had women around the room fawning. Aelin’s grin didn’t slip away when he breathed, “Behave.”
She shouldn’t have talked. She hadn’t been talked to, and the first rule in this kind of setting was to only speak when spoken to. She’d deserved this reprimand, Arobynn was here to make contacts, contacts that helped their fortune to flourish. She couldn’t ruin that for him.
For herself.
——
Aelin sipped on her strawberry daiquiri out of the bright pink straw as she basked in the sun out on the pool deck.
She and all of the other wives were out there that afternoon, relaxing by the pool while their husbands went golfing. She was pretty sure that’s where they were anyways, not that it really mattered to her.
She was directed to the pool, so that’s where she went.
Aelin was young, younger than some of the other women she socialized with. Young enough to be part of the other culture in Adarlan, fighting to not be entirely subjugated by their husbands.
She didn’t judge women who wanted to stay at home, that was a personal decision. She didn’t even know what she would do if she didn’t stay at home. But she at least shouldn’t feel pressured to follow her husband’s every order.
But she’d married him, and she didn’t regret that decision.
And besides, why would she complain about getting to relax by the pool at a glamorous resort? In a designer bathing suit with designer sunglasses, sipping on a delicious cocktail?
The only thing that ruined it was whose hands had mixed that cocktail.
A wave of nausea hit her and she set the drink to the side, choosing instead to lean back in her chair and close her eyes, relaxing in the sun. She was tan already, but it didn’t hurt to try and smooth out that bronze glow even more.
She had to look her best.
“Aelin, dear,” Clarisse DuVency herself said, and Aelin looked over, her sunglasses painting the world in shades of brown. “What do you think of Kaltain’s new bathing suit?” She leaned over, slightly, whispering like they were conspiring over something. “I think it washes her out completely, but I want to know your opinion.”
Aelin looked over a few chairs down, seeing the woman they were discussing. She didn’t want to admit it, but she’d already noticed the bathing suit. A bright green, too close to lime to be flattering against the woman’s paler skin. The cut was decent enough, but it edged the line toward too scandalous.
Tacky, it was tacky. Unlike Aelin’s bathing suit, which she’d bought while out shopping with Arobynn before they left. Hers was a color blocked one piece, with half of it white and half of it black, split right down the middle.
She liked it well enough, she thought it looked very classy. Her eye had been on another one, green like Kaltain’s but a deeper, richer green. Arobynn had liked this one better, so that’s what she’d ended up with.
It worked out; Aelin realized now that that bathing suit had been the exact color of Rowan’s eyes.
“It’s…not my favorite,” Aelin said to Clarisse diplomatically, trying to be honest without being mean. She didn’t like participating in the other woman’s games. Clarisse DuVency was nice enough, to your face, but in their short acquaintance, Aelin had gathered enough to say that she seemed like the type of woman who’d take down other women to get what she wanted from life.
She was pretty, that was undeniable, a mature type of pretty. Older than Aelin by about half a decade, though a lot of the women Aelin knew were. The men in Arobynn’s circle were around his age, and their wives, while all younger than them, had less of a gap than she and Arobynn did.
Aelin was twenty four though, well into adulthood.
“That’s one way to put it,” Clarisse snorted, leaning back in her own chair. “I’m going to need to keep drinking to even look at it. Speaking of that,” she leaned up again, “I need another drink.”
As if knowing he was being summoned somehow, Rowan suddenly appeared seemingly out of nowhere, a towel slung over that shockingly bright button down shirt. Aelin tried to meet his eyes, not being able to help herself, but he didn’t even look her way.
That was fair, she’d practically pretended she’d never seen him before earlier, but she didn’t know what else to do. He was just there, and she didn’t know how to handle it.
It brought up too many memories, good and bad, and it was too much.
A ghost of a sting fluttered across her cheek and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, turning her head away as Rowan collected Clarisse’s drink order, and some of the other ladies’ around them.
And then just like that, he was gone again. Like a single drop of rain in the desert, too good to be true and too painful to hope for.
“He’s cute,” the blonde woman next to her said, sunglasses tipped down as she stared after him. Aelin blinked at the statement, an uncomfortable feeling twisting in her gut. “I’d like a piece of him.”
Aelin frowned, looking at Clarisse. She didn’t like how that made her feel; she didn’t like the words themselves. “You’re married, Clarisse. You shouldn’t talk like that.”
As she said it though, she realized how insincere those words were.
“Like my husband hasn’t done enough behind my back,” Clarisse scoffed, rolling her eyes. “It’s obvious how they all look at other women, why should I be villainized for following their lead?”
Aelin stayed silent, clenching her jaw just the tiniest bit.
“They aren’t all like that,” she said, her voice softer. Weaker. The strength of her voice equaling the strength of the claim she made.
Clarisse scoffed, “I sometimes forget how young you are. How naive.”
Aelin swallowed. She had never thought about Arobynn’s fidelity, but surely he must be faithful. He had never given her a reason to think otherwise. She would have seen the signs.
Who was she to expect fidelity, anyway, when her heart belonged to another man? That fact alone made her an awful wife. She didn’t deserve him, he gave her everything while she couldn’t give him her entire devotion. Not that she ever let him see that.
The most ironic thing of all, was that she didn’t deserve the man she was desperately in love with either. She would never, not even if she went down the path of redemption this day. He was too good for her, a fact she’d been painfully aware six years ago. Maybe it was why she did what did.
“I need a drink,” she said to no one in particular. She tied her robe around her waist, thinner than it’d been this winter, all thanks to a new diet she’d tried. She hadn’t been particularly thicker a few months ago, but she wanted to look her best for the summer.
Arobynn wanted the prettiest wife, he’d set it outloud many times. In his everyday life he always wanted more than anyone, to show his superiority. It’s only normal that this desire would spread to his taste in women. Aelin had no opposition to help him make his wishes come true. Maybe it was why they worked so well as a couple. He got what he wanted out of this union, and so did she. Their dull, flat love only made things better. They never argued.
Aelin walked up to the left side of the bar, the one that was occupied by a tall, raven haired bartender. But the moment she got closer, he said something to Rowan and left for the hotel. She halted in her steps for a second, considering sitting back down and waiting for him to come back.
But it would look rather strange, and she wasn’t afraid. She was Aelin Hamel, of course she wouldn’t be scared of ordering a drink. She filled her lungs with warm, pure air and walked to the right side of the bar, her arms crossed to hide the most of herself possible, even if her robe already covered most of her body.
And it wasn’t anything that he hadn’t seen before. Hadn’t touched or tasted, even. But she wouldn’t go down that road of thoughts, whatever happened six years ago belonged to the past, a past she could easily erase from her mind and memory.
Rowan looked up and didn’t hide his surprise fast enough for her to not see it, but he mastered his emotions and features easily after that. “Hi,” she hesitated, hands fidgeting.
“Hello, ma’am. What can I get you?” He asked, his tone polite. The same one he’d used with Clarisse and the other women earlier.
Her heart squeezed, she had no idea why she felt pain at the way he treated her like everyone else. She’d been the one starting it, and yet, she regretted it.
“A shot of tequila,” she asked, throwing a look around. It wasn’t really conventional for women to order something other than water or a cocktail when they felt frisky. She’d be sure to be looked down upon if anyone else saw her now, but she didn’t plan on bringing her drink back to the pool deck. “Please.”
Rowan raised an eyebrow at that, not grabbing the bottles directly. “Trouble in paradise, ma’am?”
“Not at all, sir,” she answered with the same sass he wore in his voice. “Can't a woman only be thirsty?”
“Then, you will be glad to know we propose five different brands of water. Surely, it is enough for you to find happiness?”
“Thanks, but no,” she snapped, annoyed. She knew what game he was playing, and she wasn’t in the mood to play anything with him. “Make it two shots.”
He looked at her in the way he always did, looking further than on her skin and exterior. Rowan always read her thoughts better than anyone else, and it seemed that it hadn’t changed, even with all the suppressed feelings between them now.
He must have seen no backing down in her because she could have sworn she heard him sigh before saying, “Right away, ma’am.”
He turned to get the shots ready and she waited a bit impatiently, shifting back and forth on her feet. There was an uncomfortable restlessness inside of her, but maybe this would calm her down.
So when he placed the shots in front of her on the bar top, she grabbed them a little too quickly, downing them both. The tequila burned her throat, making her wince at the strong taste, but she just wiped her mouth, setting the glasses back on the counter.
Where a full glass of water now waited for her.
Aelin blinked at it, and blinked at him, caught off guard by the look in his eyes. That look, like he knew exactly what she was feeling. Exactly what she was thinking.
Gods she missed him.
“Rowan,” she breathed quietly, not knowing how to say anything she felt like she needed to. But- his eyes shuttered and he closed himself off to her again. Hurting her more than she expected.
“Have a nice day, ma’am.”
And then he was gone, tending to another guest, and leaving her dreadfully alone.
——-
For the rest of the afternoon into the evening, Aelin tried to put him out of her mind. But no matter how much she turned her thoughts away, those green eyes pierced through the walls she frantically built back up, leaving her defenseless to the memory of him.
Even that night, as she got ready for bed, memories of their last interaction replayed in her head, like a broken projector.
Have a nice day, ma’am
Like a godsdamned stranger. But wasn’t that how she’d treated him?
A miserable feeling settled in her gut, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she finished braiding her hair, letting it fall against her back.
“Gods Aelin,” she hissed to herself, “get yourself together.” She scrubbed at her freshly moisturized face.
“What are you muttering over there?” Her husband called from the bedroom, and she let her hands fall into her lap, meeting his eyes through the bathroom mirror. So cold and icy, too much like Rowan’s had been when she’d broken his heart.
“Nothing,” was all Aelin said, pushing herself to a weak stand. Her silk nightgown settled around her hips, and she untied her silk dressing gown as she walked over to the bed, hanging it on the hook as she passed.
Their suite was nice, really nice, with plush furniture and a beautiful ocean view.
“Good,” Arobynn said as she slid carefully under the covers next to him, staring up at the ceiling. “You already embarrassed me last night with your talking. I really don’t think you need to do it anymore.”
Aelin wanted to respond, but kept quiet, following what practically was an order. Who was she to argue though? He knew how to navigate this world better than she did, she was just a charity case, something to point at and mock. Only there for people’s amusement, no matter how much it broke her.
And the only one who’d ever treated her differently couldn’t even look at her now.
Arobynn kept talking, but she wasn’t listening, the torrent of Rowan hitting her once again. His eyes, his words, his face, his smile, his touch…
It was overwhelming.
And when her husband moved to cover her, capturing her lips in a heavy, dead, kiss, it was Rowan who she thought about instead.
A story co-written with the amazing @morganofthewildfire
Warnings: none | Word Count: 4,400
And if my wishes came true,
it would have been you
Doranelle, 1972
The Paradise Ocean Resort and Spa, located on the most beautiful part of the coast of the most expensive part of Doranelle, was a piece of shit.
Of course, it was glamorous Rowan supposed, and if he was a guest and had money, it’d be a nice place to stay. But, as he was essentially broke and slaving away for said guests, it was a little difficult to see the silver lining on that gray cloud.
Being a bartender out by the pool, which overlooked the beach and the crystal clear ocean, at least offered a view, but it didn’t offer much beyond that. He was overworked, sparsely paid, and generally treated like shit, but if he was ever going to get the money to open his own restaurant, he just had to suck it up and keep going.
His parents had offered many times to help him out and loan him some money to get a space to get his restaurant started, but he didn’t want to intrude on their hospitality, even though they were his parents. He could make his own way in the world; it wouldn’t be as satisfying if he didn’t pave his way by himself.
Besides, the last time he’d used his parents’ money was for a trip right after high school graduation, and with the way that had ended, he wasn’t really eager to repeat it. Even if the reason it was a disaster had nothing to do with who paid for him to be there.
Gods. He couldn’t be thinking about that right now. Clients were already hitting on his last nerve, and if he went down that road in his thoughts…
an: It's beginning! Me and @rowanaelinn are super excited to share this with you, and we can't wait to bring you along the journey that we've created! We'll be switching off posting chapters, so look between our two blogs to stay up to date! And let either of us know if you want to be added to the taglist!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Doranelle, 1955
At seven years old, there was a lot Rowan Whitethorn didn’t know about the world. He didn’t know why the sky was blue, or why it got cold in the winter, or what taxes were. But he did know something. Aelin Galathynius was his best friend in the whole wide world, and that would never change.
He also knew that his favorite game was to play pirates, and that Aelin’s new costume was absolutely brilliant. The dark around her right eye, the little cuts on her lips… He was jealous of it. He asked her how she got ready for their play date, because he wanted to do the same next time. But she got pissy, and only told him to mind his own business.
She could be so secretive at times. Being pissy was a major part of her personality, he didn’t mind it. He did mind the secrets, though. She knew everything about him, he thought it was only fair that he knew everything about her too.
But he didn’t push, and after she told him to shove off, he just shrugged and went to get their swords. The summer day was nice, though a little hot, which meant it was a perfect day to keep their game going.
Yesterday, they’d left off with Captain Aelin and First Mate Rowan being chased down by evil pirates, not good pirates like them. They were on their ship, The Fireheart, and had to get ready to fight the pirates and defend it. Aelin had come up with the name, and it’d stuck, though she didn’t tell him where it came from.
Another secret.
But he liked the name, so he didn’t really care where it came from. Especially not now, when they were about to be attacked!
Rowan ran back toward the shed in his backyard, trekking barefoot through the dirt as he went to go grab them. He wanted a real sword, but his dad had said no, so he’d gotten two wooden swords instead. One for him and one for Aelin. And he grabbed them both quickly, hurrying back out to where his best friend was waiting.
He found her on the swing by the creek on the other side of his house, sitting there staring at the water. She looked a tad bit sad, her lips were usually curled upward, not the other way round. But that look on her face faded the moment she saw the swords in Rowan’s hands. She got up and snatched one from him, before turning around and running toward their ship, screaming something along the lines of slaying their enemies and bathing in their blood.
That seemed a little gross, but he’d do it for her.
A smile pulled at his lips when he remembered the day he met Aelin. That had been gross by then. She was dressed all in white, her school uniform. Rowan had been playing outside, and he heard the sound of branches breaking over his head. He let out a little scream of surprise when he saw a girl of his age, five by then, with her arms and legs around a thick branch like a koala.
His noise of surprise had been enough to surprise her, too, and she let go of her grip on the woods. And then, she fell into the creek, ruining her perfectly white outfit. She’d said, “Have you never been taught to not scare the ladies?”
She had a missing tooth in the front, slurring her words. He just answered, “Have you never been taught to not trespass into someone else’s property?”
She snorted then, such an unlady-like sound. “Trespass? What are you? Fourty?”
He frowned, his head cocked to the side. “You’re awfully rude. Where are you from?”
She rolled her eyes, standing up and straight as if she didn’t fall in dirty water. “Clearly not from your side of town, posh boy.”
His eyebrows shot to his hairline, “Posh boy? Rude isn’t a strong enough word to describe what you are. I do not what to be–”
Cold water hit his skin as he spoke, some of it entering his mouth. He opened his eyes to find the improper girl splashing water at him and giggling as he did. He should be angry at that. The clothes he wore that day were very fine and soft. And yet, he only squinted his eyes at her, entered the water and started splashing her back.
And just like that, Rowan found his best friend. So, no. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d have an experience with staining liquid, and just like that day, Rowan would follow her.
-----
They spent the rest of the day playing, planning their war against the enemy pirates before-
“Rowan!” His mother called from inside the house, yelling through the front porch door. “It’s time for dinner!” A frown grew on his face, his wooden sword slumping as he dropped his arm. Dinner meant it was time for Aelin to leave.
He looked over at his best friend, ready to share in the misery. But she was looking away, back through the trees toward her house, only her hair visible. Rowan liked her hair. All the other girls on their street had their hair in such tight little curls, with ribbons hanging down from them like Yulemas gifts. And they could never get that, or their prissy dresses, dirty.
Aelin’s hair was blonde and wild, almost gold in the sun. It wasn’t usually tied up, but if it was she never cared if it came loose.
Her hair looked soft, and he sometimes wanted to touch it to see if it was, but he never did.
But that thought went completely out of his mind when she turned to look back at him, her wide blue eyes shiny with what looked like… tears? Was she crying? Though it was annoying, dinner happened every day, what was so bad about today?
He still didn’t know how she’d gotten that dark stuff around her eye, but he barely focused on that, looking at the tear that slipped down her cheek. Something in his chest tightened painfully at the sight.
“You should just stay here for dinner,” he offered, shrugging. Maybe she didn’t like what was for dinner at her house? “My mom is making a great meatloaf.” Then a great idea struck him. “You should just move in!” He smiled at her, thrilled by the idea. Then they wouldn’t ever have to stop playing pirates.
The words succeeded in making a small smile grow on her face. But then it fell, and his mood fell with it. “You don’t have another room for me,” she said, eyes dropping to the ground. She dragged her sword through the dirt. Rowan thought about that, furrowing his brows at the problem.
His mom definitely wouldn’t let her stay in his room, that wouldn’t be proper. He thought that was stupid, but he couldn’t argue. But -
“I could build you a treehouse!” He said, perking up again. “I can put it right between our houses so we can meet there when you don’t want to go home for dinner. I can bring you whatever food I’m having! It can be our own little spot.”
He grinned, proud of himself for the idea, and she smiled back, brighter than a thousand suns.
She opened her mouth to respond when -
“Rowan!” His mom cut her off, calling again, and he sighed.
“I better go,” he said, “but see you tomorrow right?” He swung his sword up to rest on his shoulder, beginning to walk backward toward his house. Aelin nodded, wiping at her face.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, “to whatever end.”
“To whatever end,” he replied back, waving at her before bounding off back toward his house. It was a phrase she’d read in a book apparently, and decided it was going to be their phrase. They said it every time they said goodbye, knowing that they’d always see each other again.
Rowan had made fun of it the first time she’d said it, and she’d threatened to beat him up for it, but now he liked it just as much as her.
He ran up the front porch steps, taking off his shoes as he walked inside, like he was supposed to, but carried his sword into the dining room, plopping down in a chair across from his dad, who was reading the newspaper.
“Hey dad?” He asked, “can we build a treehouse?”
----
“That is not fair.”
Aelin rolled her eyes but asked with a smirk, “Do you think pirates are fair?”
He shrugged, “No. But we’re good pirates.”
“We are.”
“Then why are we punishing the entire crew only because their captain is our enemy?”
Aelin crossed her arms. She was smaller than he was, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel as if she was taller. Out of his reach. “If someone was my enemy, would they be yours?”
“Of course,” he answered. Why did she have to ask? Early this morning, he’d forced his father out of bed to drag him in the woods not far away from their house, and they collected some of the wood they would use to build the treehouse.
But Aelin didn’t know that. His father said it’d take time to build, so Rowan decided that it would be her Yulemas present.
“Then, it’s the same for them. If their captain is our enemy, they all are.”
Rowan was about to answer something along the lines of things are not always being either black or white. His father always said that, even if Rowan didn’t always understand what it meant. He felt like it fit at that moment.
But Aelin’s stomach growled, loudly. They looked at each other before laughing, joking about how Aelin’s belly would scare their enemies away from their ship.
“What’s so funny here?” His mother asked, Rowan didn’t hear her coming. He was too busy laughing with Aelin. He told his mother what happened and she smiled. His mother had the kindest smile in the entire world. She also gave the best hugs. But he was a big boy, now. He didn’t need her hugs anymore. Except before saying goodnight, in the privacy of his bedroom. “You hungry?” She asked Aelin, who only shrugged, a shy look on her face. His mother winked at them both, “Come in, it’s time for a little snack, what do you think about that, little sea-terrors? I’ll even let you have some cake, does that sound good?”
They both nodded rapidly, and followed his mom as she turned to head back inside, her long skirt wrapping around her legs. Rowan didn’t usually like cake all that much, but the one his mom made was delicious.
And Aelin loved cake, and sweets of any kind. He looked back to share a look of excitement, but she had lagged behind a bit, hesitating almost. Rowan slid his hand into hers, the one not holding a sword, and squeezed it once.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s go.”
She smiled lightly at him and followed this time as they went up to his house, climbing the front porch and entering through the front door. It wasn’t much cooler inside than it was outside, but Rowan barely noticed as he headed toward the kitchen.
“Rowan, sweetie,” his mom said, stopping before she entered the kitchen and turning to face them. “Why don’t you get the cake ready for us? I want to talk to Aelin about something real quick, okay?”
Rowan looked at both of them, curious to know what he was missing out on, but he didn’t ask. Instead he just nodded and headed into the kitchen, his wooden sword in tow.
He’d just ask Aelin about it later.
——
Aelin’s hands turned moist when Rowan’s mother asked him to leave. She was half tempted to ask him to stay, or to help him get cake ready. But, from what she knew about Rowan’s mom, she was sweet but she always got what she wanted. And what she wanted now, was a conversation with Aelin.
She wiped her hands on the pants she stole from Rowan as she followed her into the hall bathroom. They were too small for him now, so he let her borrow them for one day. She never gave them back. No store was selling pants for little girls, not that she ever went to a store to buy clothes. She got what was given to her, that was all.
She winced, having entirely forgotten that her clothes were disgustingly dirty after playing for hours, and now her hands were dirty, too. It wouldn’t bother her normally, but she didn’t want to get anything dirty in Rowan’s house.
“Can you sit on the counter for me, dear?” Liana Whitethorn asked, and Aelin nodded, eyes on the floor as she climbed up to sit next to the sink. “Do you mind if I brush your hair?” She asked, her voice warm and kind, and Aelin looked up hesitantly, meeting green eyes so similar to the ones she was so comfortable around.
That made her calm down a little bit.
She shook her head, and followed her gesture to turn around, crossing her legs as she faced the mirror. She watched as Rowan’s mom leaned over and grabbed a hairbrush.
Mrs. Whitethorn began pulling it through Aelin’s wild blonde locks, smoothing it in soothing strokes.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” She asked softly, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “I didn’t see you yesterday, but Rowan came in last night asking if I could help him figure out how to get his face like yours for your pirate game.”
Aelin looked away, her face burning.
“Was it your father?” Rowan’s mom pressed, running her hands down her hair to smooth it further.
“He’s not my dad,” Aelin interrupted, shaking her head. No, he wasn’t her dad. She hadn’t seen her real dad in a few years, or her real mom. She still didn’t know why they’d had to leave her, but they did, so here she was.
But at least she’d been able to meet Rowan.
“No, of course not, I’m sorry,” Rowan’s mom confirmed, and Aelin met her eyes in the mirror again, blinking at the woman’s warm smile. “How about I braid your hair for you, how does that sound?”
Aelin nodded hesitantly, her mouth once again shut. She’d never had her hair braided before, not like those other girls on their street with their hair in pretty curls and twists and buns.
Mrs. Whitethorn just smiled again and pulled back all of Aelin’s golden hair behind her shoulders, beginning the braid.
“You have very pretty hair,” she complimented, and Aelin fidgeted, looking down. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve how nice Rowan’s mom was being. She didn’t deserve it, she heard it every day.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, “I have my mother’s hair.” She didn’t remember much about her mom, just flashes of golden hair, the smell of smoke, and the name fireheart.
“Do you know where she is?” Mrs. Whitethorn asked, her touch soft and comforting in Aelin’s hair. It felt motherly.
Aelin only shook her head, before apologizing. She didn’t want to ruin Mrs. Whitethorn’s braid, she was already so generous to use that time on her. She could be doing more useful things instead of braiding hair that hadn’t been washed in days. Shame crippled inside of her, and she prayed to every God she knew that Mrs. Whitethorn wouldn’t see the dirt on her scalp, or that she wouldn’t ask questions.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, and Aelin shrugged. She didn’t think about her parents often, it hurt too much when she started down that road.
“What flavor is the cake?”
Mrs. Whitethorn chuckled softly, the sound like a melody and Aelin’s entire body stiffened when she kissed the back of her head. Thankfully she didn’t comment on her reaction, and only answered, “Chocolate, of course.”
She smiled, her grin hurting her cheeks. “I love chocolate.”
She looked up to find Liana looking at her through the mirror, and even if Aelin didn’t know her too well, she knew her eyes were filled with worry and sadness. She bit the inside of her cheek, a habit she’d taken through the years to avoid crying. Physical pain distracted from the emotional one. “I’m fine,” she said.
Mrs. Whitethorn cocked her head to the side, a small smile pulling her lips up, “You don’t have to pretend here, you know?”
Her bottom lip wobbed and her eyes burned with tears, and yet, she said nothing.
“Do you want to stay here for the night?” Rowan’s mom asked, her light brown brows furrowed. “You can take Rowan’s room.”
Aelin was about to open her mouth and respond, a tear streaming down her bruised cheek, when a soft knock sounded at the door. They both turned to look and saw Rowan standing in the open door, looking concerned as he saw her tears.
“Are you okay?” He asked her, and if anything it made her cry more. She buried her face in her hands, doing her best to sniff back her tears, not wanting to cry in front of either of them. “Your hair looks nice.”
A sob escaped her at the sweet words, and she felt warm arms come to hug her, Rowan’s mom squeezing her tight. She hesitated a moment before sinking into the embrace.
It was the first kind embrace she’d felt in years. Even Rowan hadn’t hugged her like that, he couldn’t. This was the hug of a mother.
“It’s okay, honey,” she murmured, “it’s all going to be okay.”
——
“What do you wanna do when you’re older?” Aelin asked Rowan as he stood watch on their little ship. He stood higher than he usually did on a brick he found in his father’s shed. She said he was the first one to stand watch, and as her First Mate, who was he to refuse?
He shrugged, “Dunno. It’s so far away. What about you?”
She looked far away, as if they were truly at sea and was looking for land to sail to. She took a deep breath, gripping her sword harder. “I don’t know. Not much for me to do, is there?” She asked, a little sadly. “All I know is that I want to do it far, far away from here.”
He frowned, remembering to look ahead from time to time or she’d have his butt for not being careful enough. “You don’t like it here?”
Another shrug. He’d noticed she always did that when they talked about her. “I like you.”
That had him smiling. He liked her too, but he didn’t say it. Other boys at school would make fun of him if he did. Instead, he said, “Where do you want us to go?”
She turned around, stars shining in her eyes. “Us?”
He grinned. “You said to whatever end, right?”
He saw her open her mouth, but hushed voices make them turn suddenly, their gazes finding his mom talking with their neighbour, Aelin’s foster dad.
His brows furrowed. His parents didn’t like him, why would they have a conversation? Maybe to inform him that Aelin would spend the night here, though Aelin said that he likely wouldn’t mind.
But their conversation didn’t seem enjoyable, at least not from the way his mother’s back was stiff. She only stood that way when she was angry at Rowan, or when his father made jokes she hated.
Rowan had never met him really, definitely had never talked to him, but something must really be wrong for his mother to be like that.
“You’re just another bored housewife,” he spat. “Use that time to raise your kid and don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“No,” Aelin breathed, her eyes wide. “No, no, no.”
Was he talking to his mother that way? And why? Rowan tightened his hands into fists. He wasn’t a violent boy, words were usually his weapon of choice, but hearing someone talk that way to his mother… It had something burning in his throat.
And the tears in Aelin’s eyes didn’t help. His father always said that it was the man’s role to care and protect the women he loved. Aelin, she was the strongest person he knew, his captain, but he still wanted to protect her. She was his best friend, after all.
And his mother, too. It was his role to protect her if his father wasn’t there. Not that she couldn’t do it herself, he knew she could. But he didn’t want her to have to reach that limit.
He almost went over there, to do what he didn’t know, until he felt a small hand clutch his tightly. He looked over, seeing Aelin’s wide eyes, and decided his place was right there by her side.
He squeezed her hand in comfort, but watched the argument from across the yard, unable to hear most of it. Aelin took a few steps back, almost hiding herself in the bushes before he called out her name. Loud.
She still hadn’t let go of his hand, he would feel her shake. What could cause her such reaction? Adults arguing was the way of life. He didn’t particularly like it when his parents were involved but it was their business. Not the kid’s ones.
He screamed her name again, and her back stiffened before she walked out and let go of his hand. He was right behind her, eyeing warily the man who disrespected his mother and scared Aelin so much.
“Home,” he barked an order, pointing to their small house. “Now.”
“Don’t talk to her that way,” his mother said, anger burning in her eyes.
The man hissed, pointing to Rowan, “Your responsibility.” Then he pointed to Aelin. “Mine. Now, go home.”
Aelin swallowed, “I-I was going to spend the ni–”
He didn’t even let her finish before saying, “No. I won’t repeat myself a third time.”
What was his problem? He didn’t have to agree with their plans, but did he have to be so rude? His friend was obviously afraid. He opened his mouth, but Aelin stopped him with a hug. “It’s okay. I’ll go to sleep and we'll play tomorrow?”
He looked up at his mother. Surely, there had to be a way for Aelin to stay over? She pinched on her lips, shaking her head. So Rowan hugged Aelin back and asked, “Same time?”
She gave him a smile, but he didn’t think this one was real. She was too good at pretending for him to be sure, though. “Yes, First Mate.”
——
Rowan idly swung back and forth on the wooden swing, dragging his foot through the dirt as he looked over at the trees on the other side of the yard yet again. Just waiting for Aelin to appear. It was three hours past when they were supposed to meet up, past when she came over every morning without fail.
It was summer, which meant no school, which meant she could show up early in the morning and leave just before dinner. But the sun was slowly rising above the trees, and his best friend wasn’t there.
Rowan picked at a loose piece of wood from Aelin’s sword, resting it on his lap as he looked yet again.
Where was she?
The creek gurgled in front of him, and he watched a fish swimming by, a spot of bright yellow in the blue water. Like Aelin’s eyes.
He huffed miserably and stood up from the swing, deciding to go inside and figure out what was going on. He trudged through the yard, kicking up leaves on his way. It was hot outside, but his yard was well shaded, a whole canopy of trees above him.
There were always a lot of birds flying around, chirping in the mornings, and he listened to their singing mournfully as he hurried in to ask his mom what was going on.
But as he walked inside, the screen porch door clacking shut behind him, he found his mother sitting at the dining room table crying, his father sitting next to her trying to comfort her. Her head was in her hands, her elbows on the table, his dad’s hand on her back.
“What’s wrong?” Rowan asked cautiously, dropping both swords down to his side. His mom looked up, her green eyes filled with tears, looking at him so so sadly, and in that moment - he knew.
He dropped the swords onto the floor, turning and running back outside, ignoring the “Rowan!” his mom yelled from inside. He didn’t hesitate a single second as he turned left, running straight for the treeline and straight toward Aelin’s house.
He’d never been there, he never went over there, but today he was going to.
It was a tiny house, looking like it might fall apart if a bad wind hit it. It was dark, and a little sad looking, and seeing it now made Rowan realize why she always wanted to come over to his house, where it was warm and bright, and there was always fresh lemonade. Not like this.
But he didn’t pause as he ran toward the shack, hurrying up the front steps and knocking on the door rapidly. She was here, she had to be here.
No one answered.
He tried again, banging his hand on the front door as he tried to catch his breath, tears he would never admit to burning his eyes.
Still, no one answered.
“Aelin?” He yelled, moving over to a window. “Are you in there?” The curtains were open so he could see into what he guessed was the living room, though all he saw was a beat up couch and an old TV. There was a threadbare rug on the floor, and… one of Aelin’s books lying askew by the wall. That was it. No sign of anyone inside.
“Aelin?” He tried again, a tear dripping down his cheek. “We’re supposed to play pirates! I stood watch all this morning, just like I promised!”
He went back to the door, moving to knock again, when a warm hand closed around his arm gently. He froze, hoping it was her, but he turned around and it was just his mom, looking down at him with those sad eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Rowan,” she whispered, pulling him in for a hug. “They moved away. I heard this morning.” Rowan stood there in disbelief, standing still in his mother’s embrace. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, smoothing a hand down his hair. “She’s gone.”
His mother handed him a little pink piece of paper, one that he recognized as Aelin’s. She’d already left him notes with the same paper. She wasn’t a girly girl over all, but she’d confided in him that pink and red were both her favorite color.
With shaking hands he opened the note.
I’m afraid I have to go on other adventures, I would have stayed if I could.
The Fireheart is yours, Captain Whitethorn.
You are my favorite sailor and my favorite friend.
To whatever end,
AG.
And that’s when he let himself cry, sinking into his mother’s arms. And the tears came quickly, spilling down his cheeks as he sobbed. He didn’t know he could hurt this much. He always thought the term heartbreak was an exaggeration, but standing there, right then, he could feel his split in two.
Because that man, Mr. Perrington, took her away from here. Took her away from him.
Because Aelin, his best friend in the whole wide world, was gone.
This one is a big boy! Very emotional, but everything ends well. I promise! It’s very badly edited so please, don’t be expecting too much!
Warning: Violence, mention of domestic abuse, angst, tears, mentions of death | Word count: 4,700
She tried to reach for Rowan’s hand, but he walked too damn fast. He couldn’t do anything; it was too risky.
What was he even going to do? Ruin his hands? Ruin his career if his punch didn’t land in the correct way? Was he blinded by his emotions so much that he didn’t care about that?
“Whitethorn,” she hissed but nothing worked. Rowan made his way through the crowd of people, and unless she wanted to blow everything up… There wasn’t much she could do about it.
She shouldn’t have told him; she should have kept that to herself and bury it to her grave. What was going to happen anyway?
She may have a full name now, but her cousin and uncle told her that these cases weren’t the easiest to win, especially since nothing happened to her.
She had no proof other than her drunken memory that Arobynn Hamel had spiked her drink.
And now Rowan was risking everything between them for nothing. It was useless, and Rowan was still risking it all.
Twenty chapters! That’s crazy! I hope you’ll love this chapter, it’s messy but it’s a needed mess that will be resolved mostly in the next chapter <3
I’m sorry for the editing. My dyslexia is getting worse lately, so writing gets harder too. I try to edit as much as I can but… Well, just sorry ahah.
Warnings: NSFW, angst, alcohol, panic attack | Word Count: 6,000
Aelin’s lips tingled, and her entire body vibrated. She couldn’t help herself, she always felt that way when she touched Rowan.
“I need to go,” she breathed, grabbing Rowan’s shoulders. She moaned; her head tipped back when he started kissing her neck. His hand was buried in her hair, tipping her head back while his other hand grabbed her hips.
“No,” he groaned. Her hips kept rolling against his, and she couldn’t help the rush of excitement at the idea that they were in public. Granted, they were in a parking lot, but that was still in public. If anyone walked a little too close…
He dropped Helia off at Lorcan’s on the way here, and the last time she checked on her watch, he was supposed to be at work thirty minutes later. It didn’t stop her from straddling him in his car seat the moment she entered the vehicle and kissing him. It didn’t stop him from kissing her back. And now, they couldn’t seem to stop.
They were in her building’s parking lot. Rowan dropped off Helia at her godfather’s house a little earlier than he usually did, and he drove to her apartment complex. She had vibrated the entire morning since he told her to be ready to join him in her parking lot.
CW: brief implications of pedophilia, brief mentions of domestic abuse
an: it's here everyone, the last chapter 😭 there'll be an epilogue coming but this is officially the end of STT. Thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me, it's been such a remarkable and angsty ride and I'm grateful to everyone who stuck it out and is now here with me.
Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was tired of the stupid work events her parents made her go to. All she wanted to do was stay at home and dive back into the book she’d been reading, about an assassin who was secretly a lost princess, and the lonely prince who helped her find her way home. But - her parents had a different idea of what she should do with her day, particularly her mom.
She’d already told them multiple times she didn’t want to do anything with real estate, but they’d brushed her off, pretending to accept her decision. Because she still had to go to these mind numbing events.
They barely paid attention to her at all, but when they did, it was always something about work. Work, work, work. Was there nothing else in life?
At least she got to show off her new hoop earrings. Her mom had finally relented, and for her fourteenth birthday, she’d finally gotten a pair. It’d taken long enough. Most of the girls at school already had multiple piercings, and she’d only just gotten her first a couple of years ago. Not that she really cared what they thought, though she knew that was a lie.
She was already an outcast because of her family and her money, however backward that seemed. But the end of the school year party she was going to throw was going to change that. She’d use her money to make them like her.
That would show Kaltain. And maybe be just enough to get the attention of a certain black haired blue eyed boy in her language arts class. Dorian was going to the same high school as her next year, so maybe then things would change.
“And this is my daughter, Aelin,” her dad was saying in front of her, and Aelin pasted a smile on her face, ready to be introduced to the hundredth coworker of the day. It all went completely over her head, she didn’t remember a single name of a single person she’d met, but it didn’t matter anyway. They were all old people, closer to her parents’ age. And after she was passed around and chatted about, she’d never see any of them again.
“She’s about to finish up middle school, but it’s never too early to get involved in real world business, right Aelin?” Her mom said, gesturing her forward a bit with her hand on her back, and she forced herself to keep her smile up.
“Right,” she muttered, trying to sound pleasant. There was clearly some sort of businessman in some sort of generic suit in front of her, but she was watching the photographer snap a picture of a few people conversing at the food table, wishing she could be over there. Aelin wasn’t sure why the convention had a photographer, but she guessed it was just some marketing thing.
Whatever.
“This is Arobynn Hamel,” her dad said to her, and she looked over at him, blinking once. Did he actually think she cared? She just wanted to go home. “Mr. Hamel worked at our company for a few years, but now has his own.”
“Cool,” she said, not knowing what else he wanted from her.
“Aelin,” her mom admonished under her breath. But a deep chuckle just filled the awkward silence.
“It’s no matter, Mrs. Galathynius,” that same deep voice said, and she finally glanced up at the person in front of her, briefly seeing dark red hair and steely gray eyes. “Not too interested in the business then, Miss Galathynius?”
She blinked, glancing away again before looking back. The photographer had moved, but those chocolate croissants were still calling her name. “I’m exploring other options,” she said blandly.
“That’s a very diplomatic way to say no,” Mr. Hamel said lightly, with a small chuckle. And she didn’t know what to say to that, so she just stayed quiet, letting the adults take the conversation back over, fidgeting on her feet as she scanned the rest of the room.
But she still felt eyes on her and she shivered a bit uncomfortably. And she didn’t look up to meet them. Instead she just eyed the dessert again, wondering if she could sneak off and grab some.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she went to reach for it, wondering if it was maybe Dorian. But before she could look at it, she was interrupted by her mom’s arm scooping around her waist, guiding her to pose for a picture. Guess the photographer made his way over to them.
Aelin leaned into her mother, pasting another fake smile on her face, barely noticing as Mr. Hamel slid into place next to her, politely setting his hand on her back for the photo. She could feel his skin slightly through her thin blouse, and she stiffened just a little bit.
But soon enough, the photo was done. And soon enough, her parents pulled her into conversation with someone else, and the man drifted off to another group himself.
Just another person she’d soon forget.
------
“You think what?” Rowan asked, shock clear in his voice. “Pregnant?”
“Keep your voice down,” she admonished, glancing out the office door. “I don’t know for sure, but it makes sense.”
And she didn’t know how to feel about it. Rowan was already up and pacing around the room, his anxiety making her own spike.
“I’m nauseous and throwing up,” she began listing, “I’m completely exhausted yet I can’t sleep. It’s everything I experienced last time, and I know it’s not just my reaction to things. This is different.”
Rowan paused, looking at her. “When was your last cycle?”
She shook her head, standing up. “It was a while ago, but it hasn’t been regular for years. That’s not a good indicator. But trust me, I know what this feels like. It’s exactly the same.”
“So what are you saying?” He asked, his silver brows furrowed. And she took a deep breath.
“I think we need to go get a test,” she said, and he blinked before nodding, stepping back into action.
“Okay,” he said simply, “Okay, we can do that.” Suddenly, her mind was completely gone from the revelations of the laptop sitting on the desk in front of her, and it was turned completely to what may or may not be going on inside of her body.
She cleared her throat and nodded too, in a bit of disbelief herself as she grabbed her stuff, tucking it into her bag as they headed toward the door. Rowan opened it for her like always, and she smiled thinly at the few people who looked up to see what she was doing.
Most people didn’t even notice, and she slipped out of the building undetected, through the backdoor. Rowan was right next to her the whole time, his fingers laced with hers. And when they hurried into the tiny convenience store right down the street, he didn’t let go. Not as she grabbed a test, bought a test, and walked toward the bathroom in the back.
But neither of them said a word.
The bathroom was only one stall, and Rowan stood outside as she, well, did what she had to do. But she pulled him inside as they waited for the timer he set on his phone to go off. As they waited to see if she really was… pregnant.
She turned the word over in her mind, thinking about what it meant, what it could mean. Pregnant. She could be pregnant again. She could be having another baby, Rowan’s baby this time. It was a lot to process. After all, her first pregnancy hadn’t been exactly smooth.
Crippling nausea, extreme exhaustion, all tied up with a premature birth that had taken everything out of her. It’d been hard as hell, but completely worth it once she’d held Elia in her arms that first time.
It seemed Rowan was going through a turmoil of his own, his face tense but unreadable as the timer ticked away.
She couldn’t blame him, with what had happened with Lyria. Gods, she didn’t know what she’d do if she was him, how scared she’d be.
But apparently there was something else on his mind as he finally opened his mouth and asked -
“Is there any chance this baby isn’t mine?”
“What?” Aelin blinked, furrowing her brows. But he was serious, his face grave.
“I’ll stand by your side either way, of course I will, I just-” he continued, rubbing his forehead with a hand. “If you’re sick now, and you are pregnant, then the baby would’ve been conceived about a month ago, right?” She nodded slowly, staring at him until it clicked. Because yes they’d had sex for the first time a month ago, but something else happened a month ago too.
“Oh,” was all she said. “Well, that doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it?” Rowan asked, dropping his hand. “It could matter.” She shook her head, a misplaced feeling of defensiveness rising in her. Her arms tucked around her stomach.
“No,” she said flatly, “it doesn’t.”
“Well,” he said, a little exasperated. But she knew it was just from the stress. “How am I supposed to know that? I barely know anything that happened that day. And you don’t have to tell me but -“
“But what?” She said roughly, her voice thick. Rowan looked at her, his face closed off.
“I just want to know if this baby’s mine,” he said quietly, a bit of heartbreak cracking through. “And I want to know what happened to you. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
For some reason, the words nearly made her snap, sending a wave of misplaced defensiveness through her.
“You want to know what happened, Rowan?” She asked roughly, “You want to know what happened?” Unshed tears made her voice that much more emotional.
“Yes,” he insisted, stepping forward.
“Fine,” she spat, her hands clenched in fists, “I’ll tell you what happened. He brought me to that house, he took my daughter away from me, he made me strip in front of him, shower in front of him.” She shuddered, but kept going, gesturing wildly around her. “He paraded me around the fucking office like some show pony for his own gain. And then I found the videos, and he hit me, and kissed me, and -” a sob escaped her, and Rowan looked like he wanted to reach for her. But she shook her head.
“And then he dressed me in that fucking nightgown, and he tried to -” her voice failed her, but she straightened, taking a deep breath, tears streaming down her face. One of her hands clutched at her stomach. “He tried to - gods.”
“Aelin-”
She steeled herself, wiping roughly at the tears. “He tried to rape me, and I thought I’d be ready for it but I wasn’t.”
“I don’t think you can be ready-”
“So I convinced him to wait,” she shook her head, pressing on. “And then we got in the car, and we crashed.” She closed her eyes before opening them, her gaze right on Rowan’s dark green eyes. “So no, there’s no chance that this baby isn’t yours.”
Silence fell over the dingy store bathroom as he processed the news, as she watched him take in not only the revelation that he could have another child, but the revelation of what happened while she was gone.
“Aelin,” he repeated, stepping closer, but then the timer went off and he stopped, both of their gazes moving toward the test on the counter.
“I can’t look,” she whispered, frozen in place. So Rowan took that step toward the counter for her. She didn’t think her heart was even beating as she waited, everything in her stuck as she waited to hear her future. Was she to be another young, pregnant lost girl? At least in the eyes of the public.
Of everyone around her.
It’s what everyone had thought when she was pregnant with Elia, everyone in Doranelle. It’d been a mistake, and she’d been irresponsible, and should’ve just cleaned up the mess. She was a bit older now, but not by much. Two children by the age of twenty one… how the hell had her life turned into this? It was not nearly what she’d expected for her future.
And yet -
“Well?” She breathed, barely able to force the words out.
She wouldn’t have it any other way.
But Rowan was just standing there, his head hung low as he looked at the test in front of him. Aelin couldn’t see his face, so she was left with nervous anticipation as he slowly turned to face her.
Tension hung between them, his face unreadable, but then he was falling to his knees in front of her, his forehead tipping to rest against her stomach, his hands low on her waist.
A sob escaped her, tears spilling down her face even as she smiled. No, as she beamed.
“Am I -” she managed to choke out, and he nodded against her shirt, tears of his own soaking the fabric. But he pulled back slightly to look up at her, his handsome face brighter than she’d ever seen it.
“You’re pregnant,” he confirmed, grinning up at her, his dark green eyes watery. “Gods, you’re pregnant.” He laughed incredulously, kissing her shirt this time, and Aelin dropped a hand to his hair, the other covering her mouth as she let out a disbelieving laugh of her own. She couldn’t even sniff back her tears, they were unstoppable.
“I love you,” she choked out, “gods, I love you so much.”
“I love you, Aelin,” Rowan spoke, looking up at her, before dropping his forehead back to her stomach. “And I love you, too.”
She sobbed again, dragging her sleeve across her face to try and wipe some tears away. “Rowan,” was all she said, all she needed to say.
“Aelin,” he murmured back, just breathing her in. Breathing their child in. “Aelin.”
“I guess the condom didn’t work,” she joked, and a laugh escaped him.
And then he finally looked up at her, the look on his face making her tears run faster. “You have made me a father twice now, in just a few days.” His voice was completely overcome with emotion. “I don’t know what I’m ever going to be able to do to deserve that.”
She shook her head, dropping both of her hands to cup his cheeks. “You already do, Rowan.” She fell to her knees, joining him on the sticky floor. “Gods you already do.” She leaned in, touching her forehead to his. “To whatever end.”
Rowan shuddered with emotion, his breath skirting across her lips. “To whatever end.”
------
They stayed in the bathroom for a little longer, happy and exhilarated, but eventually her nauseous stomach grumbled and Rowan determined it was time to get some food. So she picked up and held the test in her hand, her other hand clutched in his as they headed out of the bathroom and toward the store exit.
Where they ran into a bunch of flashing cameras.
“Shit,” she cursed under her breath as the door fell shut behind her. And she quickly tried to stick the test in her pocket, but it was too late, the vultures were already swooping in on their prey, shouts coming at her from every angle.
“Aelin, is that a pregnancy test?!” “Aelin, are you pregnant?” “Who’s the father?” “Is Rowan Whitethorn the father?”
Even one disturbing “Is Arobynn Hamel the father?”
Was that flying around now? Lovely.
She ducked her head down and kept walking, only pausing when a certain question struck her ear.
“How do you feel now that Arobynn’s dead?” An almost familiar voice asked, and it was such an odd question, such a different perspective than everyone else, that she looked over. And she nearly passed out.
“Sam?”
----
And that’s how they ended up at a cafe a few blocks down, tucked into the middle of a block of stores. They sat in the back, away from the windows, keeping away from the media still on the prowl.
Aelin sipped at her decaf latte, trying to figure out how to break the uncomfortable silence. Rowan was next to her, a protective arm around the back of her chair, and Sam was across from her, looking nearly identical to how he’d been so long ago.
“So,” she said after a few minutes. “You’re a journalist now?”
“Yep,” he said, taking a bite of his croissant. “After I moved to Anielle, I decided to switch things up.”
“Anielle?” She asked, her voice empty. “That’s where you chose?”
He nodded. “I have family there, but after Hamel died, my newspaper sent me here to get the scoop.” She narrowed her eyes a bit, but didn’t comment, just taking another sip of her drink.
This was already awkward as hellas.
“Remind me why we’re doing this?” Rowan leaned over and whispered into her ear, and she nudged him with her shoulder, hoping Sam hadn’t heard.
“So is that what you’re here for?” Aelin asked, not able to resist prying just a little bit. “To get the scoop from me?”
But he shook his head. “I wanted to see how you were doing,” he said, “last I saw you…”
“I was about to get beat up,” she said blandly, “I know.” Rowan’s arm tightened around her shoulder. “But I was able to get away that day, so thank you.”
She made sure to keep her voice sincere, to let him know she really did mean it, and with the way Sam nodded back, she was pretty sure he understood.
“How’s your baby doing?” He asked, and a smile formed on her lips unconsciously.
“She’s doing well,” Aelin answered, taking a sip of her coffee. “17 months old and healthy.”
“That’s good,” Sam said, nodding again. “And your - other baby?” She knew what he was referring to, knew he’d seen the pregnancy test just like everyone else had. Her hand fell to rest on her stomach lightly.
“Healthy as well,” she said, before turning to look at Rowan. “We’re very excited.” He smiled softly at her, before leaning in and placing a light kiss to her lips.
“He’s treating you right?” Sam asked her, and she looked back at him, eyebrows raised just a little.
“Yes, of course,” she said, “I’m very happy.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, leaning back in his chair. He looked right in place, like a normal person in this normal cafe, but she still felt out of touch, like she was watching everything through a glass. That’s how she’d felt the whole time in this damned city, like she didn’t belong, like she was an outsider.
But she was happy. She just was pretty sure she’d be happier somewhere else.
“You know,” Sam added, and she forced herself to zone back in, paying attention to his words. Even though they quickly puzzled her. “I always had a bit of a crush on you.”
“What? Why?” She asked, a bit bewildered. “I barely ever spoke to you. I barely spoke at all.” Rowan’s arm was stiff around her.
Sam just shrugged. “I can’t explain i-” his phone rang, cutting him off, and he cursed, pulling it out of his pocket. “This is my boss,” he said, pushing to a stand. “I better take this. But it was nice to see you again,” he said, smiling at her, and she nodded weakly back. “One last piece of advice though,” he added. “Get out and tell your story before others try and skew it.”
Her smile fell a bit.
“There’s tons of people ready to get the biggest hit,” he said. “And they don’t care if it’s true or not. Let your voice be heard.”
And then he was gone.
------
“I don’t like that guy,” Rowan said, a frown on his face as they walked into the elevator in the hotel lobby, the metal doors sliding shut. Aelin just snorted, raising a brow at him. But he wasn’t joking, his face was pinched in a way that told her something was actually bothering him. “He claims to have had a crush on you, and yet sat on his ass while you were being abused until you prompted him to do something.” He shook his head.
Aelin sighed, taking his hand. “I never knew him very well,” she tried to explain, “despite his words I wouldn’t be surprised if he was trying to get on my good side to either get my story himself, or to get some of my money.” She shrugged, ignoring Rowan’s deepening frown. “Either way, I doubt he was being entirely sincere.”
He paused, but then pulled her into a loose hug, his chin resting on her head.
“Well,” he said, “we don’t have to see him again, right?” She snorted again, pinching his side and earning a hiss.
“Don’t be a jealous buzzard,” she joked, smirking up at him. “I’m carrying your baby, I’m not going to leave you now.” Rowan smirked back down at her, one of his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass.
“You get some other perks too,” he said smoothly, his voice dark. She looped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“Oh really?” She tilted her head. “I haven’t gotten these… perks in a while.”
“I can fix that,” he said, his breath hot against her lips. They got closer and closer until she finally made the next move, kissing him deeply.
And by the time they got to their floor, her hair was mussed up, and both of their lips were swollen. It would be clear to anyone what they’d been doing.
But Aelin didn’t care a bit.
——
Rowan’s thumb was rubbing light circles over the fabric of her shirt covering her stomach, his other hand draped loosely around her waist as she sat in between his legs. Both of them were on the floor in front of the couch in the hotel room, watching as Elia crawled around, playing with Feefu.
They’d been sitting there for a while, just basking in each other’s presence, and the presence now inside of her too.
“Classes start tomorrow,” Aelin said quietly, leaning her head back against his chest, but keeping her eyes on their daughter, who had started reaching toward the coffee table.
“I know,” Rowan said, kissing her hair. “Is your laptop all ready to go?” She nodded.
They’d both gotten new laptops a few days before, just to start fresh for the new semester. Rowan didn’t want to go through the hassle of shipping his all the way from Doranelle, and, well, hers was a piece of shit anyway. It was time for a new one now that she could afford it.
Her classes for the spring were a bit more promising than her first semester had been. She was actually starting to get into the business side of things, though she had a literature class as well, as a requirement to graduate. Most people got those credits out of the way in high school, but she hadn’t taken any advanced classes, so she was starting from scratch.
But she was excited for it, and had even begun toying with the idea of picking up literature as a second major. She’d have to see how it went.
It wasn’t necessary for what she was going to be doing, especially now that she had a job already. She really didn’t even need to keep going to college if she really didn’t want to, but she wanted the education. She wanted to give herself the knowledge she’d denied herself in high school.
She ignored the sinking in her stomach that thinking about her future career caused, and instead focused on something else that had been bugging her. Just a little bit.
“When are we going back to Doranelle?” She asked a few moments later, still watching Elia. “I know we said we were waiting until everything is settled here, but what does that even mean?”
“When do you want to go back?” Rowan asked, still caressing her stomach, and she shrugged.
“If I’m being honest,” she said slowly, not looking at him. “As soon as possible. I,” she sighed, “don’t like it here. Too many memories, especially with those videos we found. It’s just - a lot.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, his voice steady and rolling. “We didn’t get a chance to earlier; how are you feeling about it? About everything?”
“Yeah,” she said, a small smile on her face, ignoring his questions. She didn’t want to talk about how she felt right now. It was time to celebrate their new baby, not morosely discuss how she was being forced back into another box with this new job. How working at the company was everything she’d been trying to avoid her whole life. “We got a bit distracted.”
“Yeah,” her boyfriend said, just as fondly. “Do you think it’s a girl or a boy?”
“Hmm,” she hummed, considering the question, “I think a boy.”
“Well,” he snorted, “you’d be wrong. It’s definitely another girl.”
“Oh really?” She laughed, “and you would know?” She turned her head to look up at him, seeing him grinning down at her.
“Yep,” he said, “I already have two divas in my life, why not add a third?” He poked at her sides, tickling her a bit and she couldn’t help the giggles that escaped her as she tried to escape him.
Elia seemed to be attracted by all the commotion, and used the leg of the coffee table to pull herself up into a stand, something she’d been able to do for a good while now. But Aelin stopped laughing and held her breath as her daughter did something she hadn’t done before: let go of the table and take one shaky step forward.
“Rowan,” Aelin whispered harshly, making sure he was seeing what was going on.
“Oh my gods,” he whispered too, like neither of them wanted to risk disturbing this moment. But their daughter was walking toward them, in tiny little unsure steps, so Aelin held out her arms, inviting Elia in.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” she encouraged, “you’re almost there.” Elia’s face was screwed up in concentration as she stumbled toward her, but soon enough she’d crossed that great divide and she fell into her mother’s arms.
Aelin scooped her up into a hug, showering compliments and praise down on her. Rowan joined in too, until Elia was smiling and giggling, happy there cuddled up with her parents.
She was still young, and would be young when the new baby was born, but Aelin already knew in her heart that she was going to be the most amazing big sister.
------
Today was the day Elia was finally going to get to see the office. Lysandra had a job interview, so she couldn’t watch Elia, and with both her and Rowan having classes that morning, there was nowhere else they could take her.
But it was okay, Aelin had convinced herself the night before that it was time to stop hiding her. She couldn’t spend her whole life hiding up in a hotel. The press would have a field day, but Aelin already had a plan in the works for that too.
If she was going to be stuck here, she had to stop hiding.
One thing she liked about staying was getting to stay with Lysandra. They’d been texting a lot and had already developed a fast friendship. In fact, the brunette was the only one so far who knew about her pregnancy. She was grateful to have her.
Despite the circumstances for the day, Aelin put on a brave face for the media as she carried Elia into the office building, not caring about their questions or their statements or their prying words. Her daughter looked overwhelmed by the whole scene, her turquoise eyes wide at the sight of so many people.
But she didn’t fuss as they rode up the elevator to the right floor.
People stared at her like always as she walked toward her office, but she didn’t pay them any attention, comforted by Rowan’s arm around her waist and Elia’s quiet babbling. Rowan had been almost jittery that day, though she didn’t know why.
It was either anxiety from bringing Elia, or there was something he wasn’t telling her. She wasn’t sure which, and she didn’t know which one she wanted it to be.
But she put it out of her mind as she entered her office, seeing Darrow waiting there, like he did every morning.
But this morning, there were two envelopes lying on top of her desk, her full name on both of them. Miss Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.
“What are these?” She asked the man, taking her seat. Elia stayed on her lap, cuddling close, but was looking up at Darrow curiously. He didn’t say anything to the little girl, he was too stoic for that, but he did smile gently and wave at her briefly, making her giggle.
Aelin deemed that interaction a success, and moved back to her question.
“The one on the left is something the movers found in Mr. Hamel’s house,” Darrow explained. “I figured you would want it back.”
She furrowed her brows, and reached to open it, Rowan coming to sit down next to her. Her eyes went wide as she pulled its contents out.
“Oh,” she breathed, staring at her necklace, with its beautiful fire pendant. The one Rowan had gotten for her. The one she’d thought she’d lost forever. She turned to look at her boyfriend. “Can you put it on for me?”
“Of course,” he said, clipping it around her neck, and she held it loosely, getting used to the feeling of it again.
“Thank you,” Aelin said to Darrow, and he just nodded. The pendant was warm right over her heart, and she pressed her hand against it as she moved on to the other envelope. “What’s in this one?”
“Just open it,” Rowan said this time, and she narrowed her eyes at him, sensing the anticipation oozing from his pores. What did he have to do with this?
But she didn’t question it as she pulled a piece of paper out of the envelope, flattening it against her desk.
It was a legal document of sorts, with a line at the bottom she knew was for her signature. But she didn’t understand what it was for. Was she supposed to know? Because she didn’t.
“What is this?” Aelin asked as she scanned the page over and over, not quite comprehending what she was seeing. Eventually she gave up, sending her questioning glance up to Rowan, who could barely contain his excitement.
“It’s a proposed new branch of the company,” he explained, gesturing to the document. “A charitable branch, a foundation of sorts.” He looked over at Darrow.
“Mr. Whitethorn came up with the idea a few weeks ago, and brought it to me,” the older man continued, “but it’s up to you to sign off on it.” Her eyebrows had shot up at the word weeks, but she didn’t question the timing, her brain already off to the next part.
A charity branch. Something Kingsflame hadn’t had before, but definitely something that could look good for the company amongst all this press. Some good publicity, instead of just drama.
“What’s the charity?” She asked next, furrowing her brows. Rowan smiled softly as he answered.
“The Rifthold Coalition Against Domestic Violence,” he said, and emotion filled her veins, tears pricking at her eyes. But she just nodded, looking back down at the paperwork. “I would help run it after I graduate, but I could be remote and just fly in for meetings every so often. Because I was also thinking -”
He stepped closer to her desk, reaching over to smooth back Elia’s hair. But his eyes were on her. “I know you don’t want to work here,” he said quietly, before looking back at Darrow, “sorry Darrow.” But he just waved him off with a smile. “I know you don’t want to live in Rifthold.” His green eyes held hers intently. “And you don’t have to. You can take on a board position in the company instead, and not be actively involved. Or you can quit entirely. But it’s up to you.”
She closed her eyes, a single tear slipping out as she reached up with her free hand to clutch at her necklace. But he wasn’t done.
“It’s your choice,” he whispered to her, and she nodded, feeling those words settle in her. “We can go back to Doranelle, you can graduate, you can open up your bookstore like you’ve always wanted to.” She sniffed, tears falling faster now. “You can do whatever you want. You’re free.”
She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his, and she nodded. She hoped he understood how grateful she was for him, for everything he did for her.
“I love you,” she whispered, and he smiled.
“I love you too, Fireheart.”
-------
It was snowing as they landed at the Doranelle airport, snowing as they got into a car, driving the thirty minutes back into town. And it was snowing as Aelin walked into her new apartment, completely overwhelmed by how perfect it was.
It was cozy, yet spacious, perfect size for them and two kids. It was within walking distance of campus, walking distance of the grocery store. It was just… a fresh start, a fresh start with Rowan and their family.
It was everything she could’ve asked for and more. And she kissed him heartily for it.
But after settling in a bit, Aelin knew there was somewhere else she wanted to go too.
And it was snowing as they made their way into Mistward Cafe, toting their backpacks and laptops with them to study there after saying hi to the man who owned it. It felt so right to be back, to be home.
She and Rowan had barely needed to discuss it after speaking with Darrow. Aelin was going to take a step back, and take more of a consulting role in the company, and they were going to move back to Doranelle. Rowan was going to work with Darrow on the foundation, but he wasn’t going to do it from anywhere but right there at her side.
Lysandra was even thinking about moving out there, with her niece Evangeline in tow. She had full custody of her now, and was looking for a fresh start. Aelin was ecstatic about it, and ready to help her settle in and start a new life as much as she could.
It was the perfect scenario, better than anything she could’ve dreamed up herself. She hadn’t lost that connection to her parents, but she wasn’t trapped in yet another cage. She could do everything she’d wanted to do, be everything she wanted to be.
She couldn’t stop smiling.
Especially as Emrys finally noticed them, a bright smile lighting up his lined face. He immediately dropped what he was doing, hurrying from behind the counter to greet them.
He hugged her tightly, saying warm words of welcome, before moving to hug Rowan as well, and placing a kiss on Elia’s head, who giggled at the old man.
“Oh it’s so good to see you three,” he said warmly, “I’m so glad to see you’re all okay.”
“We’re glad to see you, too,” Aelin said, smiling herself. “I’m glad to be back in Doranelle.”
“Here, sit down,” Emrys insisted, shooing them toward an open table. Mistward was pretty busy for a snowy day, groups of people taking refuge in the warmth. “I’ll get you some coffee.”
“Decaf, for me please,” Aelin interjected, and he looked up at her. “Because I’m -”
“Pregnant,” he said with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, I read all about it in the Rifthold news. I’ve been keeping up with it since you’ve been gone.” She chuckled a little bit, shaking her head. Of course he was. “Which is also how I knew about -” he reached under the counter for something, before turning to their table. “This.”
He dropped a Rifthold newspaper down on the wood, and she couldn’t help but grin at the sight. There was her name and picture, printed in bold beneath the words:
Arobynn Hamel: The Truth Behind the Famous Name
It was the article she’d written only a few days before, an article she’d managed to get printed with the Rifthold Reporter. She was finally getting her side of the story out into the world, and all she could do was hope that the world listened.
But it was better than doing nothing, and letting everyone think that a good man died that day.
“I’m proud of you, Aelin,” Emrys said, his voice sincere, and suddenly she felt like crying. But all she did was press her free hand to her heart, trying to keep all the emotions contained.
“Thank you,” she said, “for everything.” He just nodded once, a smile on his face.
“Of course, lass, now get to work, I’ll have your drinks soon.” He waved them away, and she laughed again as she sat down, Elia in her lap and Rowan across from her. By coincidence, or by fate, they’d ended up at the exact same table they’d first met at, and she knew he remembered too, if the smile he shot at her was any indication.
But they didn’t say anything as they both pulled out their laptops, getting to work on their respective homework for the week. Elia was calm, playing quietly with Feefu, enjoying herself, and Aelin idly ran a hand down her hair as she stared at a math problem.
She’d begun her first accounting class, and the first assignment was just a pretest to see what they already knew. She didn’t know much, so she scored horrendously, but it provided an answer key afterward and now she was going back to try and understand some of them.
“Hey Rowan?” She asked, looking up from her screen.
“Yeah?” He asked, meeting her eyes, his green ones as gorgeous as ever, but so much warmer than they’d been months before.
“Can you help me with this problem?” She asked, grinning as he chuckled.
“Let me just put my tutor hat back on,” he joked, and she rolled her eyes. But she didn’t protest as he scooted over his chair to her side of the table, peeking at her screen.
“Dada,” Elia cooed, and Rowan took her and set her on his own lap, cooing back. It was a sweet scene, and she smiled softly before resting her head on his shoulder. He went back to looking at the screen and registered the problem quickly. He began explaining it to her, and she could barely pretend like she was listening, his voice soothing her into a restful state.
The snow was falling down around them, the soft music of the cafe playing lightly in the background, warm coffee seeping into her bones. And the three people she loved most in the world right there with her.
She’d come a long way to get to this moment, and she knew she wasn’t done recovering from the horrors of her past. She also knew that life wasn’t perfect, but hers certainly couldn’t get better than this.
CW: mentions of sexual assault, brief depictions of sexual assault, brief allusion to pedophilia, cursing, alcohol, mentions of physical abuse
------------------------------------------
The front door was loud as she pushed it open, the creak of the hinges ringing in her ears as she stared ahead into the foyer. Into the house she’d just finally escaped. It was different now though, and she kept that in mind as she took a step inside. Its owner was dead.
Now it was just a house.
Even just the air was different as she entered. There was more light, there was more chaos, furniture moved and boxes piled on the floor, the house getting ready to be sold. Only the first floor was seemingly touched though, one glance up the stairs revealed no boxes or any signs of movement there.
It was just her and Rowan in the house, alone and yet not. Because she was still accompanied by the memories.
Neither of them said anything as the door closed behind them, though he slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it once. Silent support.
“His laptop would be upstairs,” she said lowly, clearing her throat. Her eyes fell to the floor, tracing the marble until her gaze got stuck on a spot at the base of the stairs. But she just cleared her throat again, forcibly lifting her eyes and urging her feet forward.
Forward right to the stairs. She swallowed as she took one step up, the steepness making her thigh burn.
“I know every inch of this house,” Aelin said quietly as she took another step up those marble stairs. “I used to wander - when he wasn’t here,” she admitted, not looking at him. “And when he was here I’d generally hide out in a guest room, or in the library, reading.” She loosely gestured back down the stairs to the first floor.
“I didn’t know you read,” Rowan said, just as softly, and she turned to face him as she kept walking, nodding lightly.
“Yeah,” she said, “I love it. I love books, I love fairytales, I love escaping into a completely different world, becoming so immersed I forget where I actually am.” A small smile crept on her face despite how dark that could really be taken. But even before Arobynn, she liked to be lost. Books had been her childhood; they’d been her only friends as her parents worked long hours, her only companions.
“That’s what my degree was originally for,” she added, “to open a bookstore. I don’t think I ever told you that.”
Rowan shook his head. “No, I don’t think you did.” But then he smiled fondly. “I can picture that so clearly though, it makes sense.”
“I know nothing about business,” Aelin said, continuing climbing. “Which is why I needed to take classes for it. And the plan was, if I epically fail, then I have an actual degree to fall back on to get a real job with. Which, I now have,” she said with a dismissive shrug. “So, the bookstore is just another dream.”
Her heart panged a little at the thought.
But she was distracted as she stepped onto the landing of the second floor, faced with hallways and rooms that hadn’t been touched since that night.
“The kitchen, dining room, library, game room, gym, etcetera, is down there,” she said blandly, gesturing back down the stairs. “Everything else is up here.” She gestured loosely to the left, not following with her gaze. Her feet turned to the right instead as she rushed through her next words. “The bedroom’s down there,” she cleared her throat, “the guest rooms are over here, so is his office, and the room he made a nursery.”
She headed down that way, ignoring the open door behind her.
When she reached the office, she paused at the door. But she took a deep breath and pushed everything to the back of her mind as she stepped in. It was just a house.
“Here it is,” she whispered, forcing a smile, as she walked forward, grabbing the heavy laptop off of the desk. She ignored the feel of the carpet beneath her feet, the carpet that had been stained with her blood too many times.
But when she turned back around, Rowan was looking at her cautiously, his green eyes filled with wary concern.
“It’s just a house, Rowan,” she tried to dissuade, but she wasn’t sure how convincing she was.
“Is it?” He murmured quietly as she walked past him out to the hallway, and she stiffened, not responding as she headed toward the stairs.
It had to be, so it was.
-----
By the time she dropped off the laptop back at the office, to have a tech specialist bypass the password, she was exhausted. She’d woken up feeling bad that morning, and the trip to the house had only made it worse.
She just wanted to get Elia and go to bed.
“Thank you,” she said for the millionth time as Lysandra passed her the very child she wanted. The brunette laughed.
“Don’t worry about it,” she repeated, shaking her head. They were right outside Aelin and Rowan’s hotel room, in the quiet hallway. Aelin had texted Lysandra asking if she could bring Elia back to the hotel and meet there, just to avoid the paparazzi still waiting outside.
Lysandra with a baby wouldn’t raise any eyebrows; they didn’t know her. But Aelin with a baby, one with red hair nonetheless, would bring a storm of questions.
“How was she today?” Aelin asked, smiling at Elia’s light babbling.
“She was pretty chill,” the stylist said. “Though she wanted her dada at one point.”
Aelin’s smile grew, and she looked down at her daughter. “She’s a bit clingy sometimes,” she said with a shrug. “But as long as she wasn’t a menace.” She poked Elia’s cheek, earning a precious giggle.
“No mama,” she heard, and her smile grew even more if it was possible. Mama, dada, love, and now no. A strange assortment of words, but it was growing every day.
“Well, if that’s all,” Lysandra said, tucking her hands in her jeans pockets. “I have to go get Evangeline from school. Talk later, yeah? We need to go get coffee or something,” she offered, and Aelin nodded with a smile before pausing.
“Wait,” she said, stepping forward. “I have a question for you.”
“Yeah?” The brunette asked, tucking some loose hair behind her ear.
“Before you took the job with Arobynn,” Aelin asked, “What did you think of him?”
Lysandra looked confused at the question, but answered seemingly genuinely. “Well, I thought he was probably somewhat of an asshole, like all rich people are.” She chuckled a little, but shrugged. “But you know how the media portrays him, I thought he was a decent guy. I had no reason to suspect anything was off.”
Aelin nodded slowly, processing the information. She was right, the media portrayed him as some philanthropist gentleman, which never failed to piss her off.
“Sorry that was random,” Aelin dismissed with a laugh, “but thank you for answering. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Lysandra said her goodbyes and then she left, leaving Aelin to ponder over her words. But as she walked back into her room, she tucked it away into the back of her head to deal with later.
Rowan was sitting on the couch in the living room when she got inside, and she went to sit by him.
“Dada,” Elia said, right on cue, and her boyfriend’s face brightened immediately, reaching for her to hold.
“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted, holding her on his lap with one arm. “And hello Fireheart,” he said to her, greeting her with a kiss.
“Hey, what are you looking at?” She asked, leaning against his shoulder and peering at his phone.
“Apartment listings,” he said with a wry smile. “We need a new place to live in Doranelle after all.”
“True,” Aelin said with a cynical laugh. “A place camera-free ideally.”
“That’s the goal,” Rowan said, before turning his phone to show her. “I haven’t found any great ones yet, but I’m still looking. Do you want to check?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, “I trust you. You’ll find us all a great spot.” She kissed his cheek. “And you can spend all the money you want on it.”
Rowan chuckled. “We do have loads of it now.”
“You know it,” Aelin said, winking at him. “Better put it to good use.”
------
She couldn’t sleep.
It was the middle of the night, and Aelin was just staring up at the ceiling of their hotel room, tracing invisible shapes with her eyes as the shadows moved across the white plaster.
She didn’t know quite what was keeping her up, besides maybe the swirling feeling in her stomach that hovered somewhere between nausea and a deep sense of dread. Did she want to see that laptop? Did she want to see every little dirty secret he had?
She didn’t know. But she did know she needed to.
A dark thought had crossed her mind many times since finding out the truth about her parents, a thought that maybe that truth wasn’t even the entire truth. That maybe a crash, so conveniently placed the moment she turned eighteen, wasn’t actually an accident at all.
But in her gut, she knew it wasn’t right. Knew that she was just seeking some sort of answer for everything that went wrong in her life. Sometimes those things just happened, and it’s tragic, but it didn’t mean that it was planned by some evil force.
But that didn’t mean an evil force didn’t take advantage of it.
Because someone did, and that’s why she couldn’t sleep.
“Aelin?” Rowan’s sleepy voice murmured, his head turning to face her. His eyes were bleary, his silver hair tousled from the pillow, his bare chest poking out from under the comforter. “You good?”
“Yeah,” she said quietly, rolling onto her side. “Can you hold me?” Her voice was more vulnerable than she wanted it to be. But he didn’t hesitate before reaching for her, his arms wrapping loosely around her back as she rested her head on his chest.
“Go to sleep, Fireheart,” he murmured, “I’ve got you.”
And eventually, her eyes fell closed and she drifted off to sleep.
——-
The call came the next morning that the laptop was ready. Apparently it hadn’t been too difficult to hack into, and now every file on the drive was ready to be accessed.
They just had to go to the office. So they did, ignoring the paparazzi once again. It’d only been a day but it was getting pretty easy.
She was already so pissed off at the world it was easy to put on her biggest resting bitch face and saunter to the car, pretending like they didn’t exist at all. And when she got to the building, she didn’t even stop to speak to anyone as she walked into her office, Rowan following her. Waking up still sick to her stomach hadn’t helped her mood either. She didn’t know if she was actually going to throw up or if she was just making herself so anxious she was nauseous, but either way it was annoying.
She just wanted this to be over.
The laptop was already on her desk and she sat down in front of it. Rowan moved his chair from the front of her desk to next to hers, slotting into place at her side. Aelin appreciated it.
Neither of them spoke as Aelin opened up the laptop, her lips pursed as she stared at the files upon files on the screen. It was almost overwhelming, but she didn’t let it get the best of her, just swallowing all of her emotions down and clicking on the first file, whose title read First Floor Back Hallway #1.
Sure enough, it was videos after videos of the hallway back on the first floor by the library and game room. She didn’t know how many there were, but there were easily hundreds. Probably from every single day she’d been there.
“Here they are,” she said absently, clicking on a random day. A video popped up, surveillance footage without sound, and she clicked play, zooming forward until someone appeared on the screen, that someone being her. Her hair was long, though not quite as long as it was now, and it hung limply over her shoulders, draping over the back of one of her silk robes. And her face; it was pale, with a mottling of bruises along the side of it.
At this point, she couldn’t even remember what that was from. It was so long ago, and it happened too often for her to be able to keep track of it all.
“You’re so thin,” Rowan said from next to her, in practically a whisper. “Like a ghost.”
“Yeah,” Aelin said dimly. “You think I don’t eat now - I lost about twenty five pounds that I couldn’t afford to lose over the course of those months.” But she just shrugged. “Nothing interesting here,” she said, clicking away from the file.
Maybe she shouldn’t be so cynical and dismissive about it all, but really there was no other way for her to be without having a full breakdown.
Rowan didn’t say anything as she clicked to a different one. And so it went; she clicked through each different security camera feed, glancing through the days, just watching herself go through the motions and yet get worse and worse.
Like, in the beginning, she was still smiling, albeit hesitantly. But as the months went on, all light within her faded until she was, like Rowan said, a ghost.
There were videos of her wandering around the house, bruises clearly on her skin. There were videos of her sitting in a chair and staring at absolutely nothing, dissociating so much from her own reality that she wasn’t even present anymore.
There were also videos of her doing things like changing and showering, which made her squirm. She didn’t like the idea that that was all on video, though she’d known it would be. There was one shower video that Rowan had been especially shocked by; not because she was naked, but because of the layers of fresh and faded bruises on her skin.
Aelin was pretty sure that was from a time when he’d been stressed out about something going on at work, and she’d had the audacity to breathe wrong or some shit, so he’d taken it out on her. She remembered how showering had been painful, and it was clear on the screen from the way she was really just standing there under the stream of water.
Aelin didn’t even know what she was looking for, what kind of absolution she was hoping to achieve by digging through these things that could only bring pain. But - she just hoped she would know it when she saw it.
“What is that?” Rowan asked all of a sudden, pointing to the screen. She looked at where he was gesturing, finding an unnamed folder.
“I’m not sure,” she said, sinking back into her chair as she clicked on it. And then clicked on the first video.
It wasn’t clear at first what was going on, but she was able to identify the room pretty easily: the master bedroom. Nothing happened at first, but then she saw herself stumble onto the screen, a bottle of whiskey hanging out of her mouth as she drained the contents of the bottle.
An uneasy feeling settled in her gut as another figure appeared behind her, clearly more aware of the situation than her. Arobynn’s hands settled on her waist from behind, guiding her drunken body toward the bed in the middle of the room. It was too easy, as she nearly fell against it, the whiskey slipping out from her hand.
He just caught it and set it to the side.
“I didn’t know he recorded this,” Aelin breathed, eyes refusing to close as her eighteen year old self was set on the mattress, her eyes cloudy. It was clear she was completely out of it as he joined her on the bed, beginning to kiss her neck. One of his hands slid under her shirt, pulling it up her body. And the other dipped lower, vanishing beneath the waistband of her shorts.
Aelin didn’t think she was breathing, her heart pounding brutally in her chest. She couldn’t watch but she couldn’t look away.
Suddenly, though, Rowan reached for the computer, exiting out of the video. But there were more, so many more. She was going to be sick.
“Are you okay, Aelin?” He asked her quietly, and she blinked, realizing she’d been staring at the screen aimlessly. “We don’t have to look at this anymore.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head and sitting up. “Let’s keep going.”
She clenched her jaw as she took back over, scrolling farther and farther down the page of the file, seeing dozens and dozens, stretching into hundreds of videos.
“Gods,” Rowan breathed behind her, but she didn’t comment, steeling herself as she finally reached the end. But it wasn’t the end, because at the bottom of that page was another unnamed file. She didn’t know what it was, but a bad feeling settled over her as she clicked on it.
This. This was what she was looking for.
It was pages after pages of information on her: from basic biographical information, to news stories about her family, to her fucking grades in school. And her discipline records too, with comments from her high school principal such as:
Spoiled, troubled, too focused on socialization and not enough on her schooling
She had no idea how the fuck he’d gotten this information, but here it was, staring her right in the face.
“How far does this go back?” Rowan asked the question that she wasn’t sure either of them really wanted to know. She felt nauseous, but she kept scrolling down. Pictures were scattered between the documents, pictures taken from her social media or her parents’ social media or just wherever the fuck he was stalking her from, and she got younger and younger in them until she hit the last one.
It was another picture, and she clicked on it to expand it, not really comprehending what she was seeing.
But Rowan cursed from next to her, and she realized what it was.
It was at some sort of business conference, Aelin could tell. Her parents used to take her to them all the time, despite not wanting to go, and she could easily recognize the convention center she was standing in, as well as the bustle of business people behind her. And on her left was her mom, one arm around the waist with a smile on her face, with Rhoe on her left.
But on Aelin’s right… was Arobynn.
His arm was respectfully high on her back, but the look in his eye that Aelin was sure only she could really recognize, was decidedly not.
“How old were you?” Rowan asked, and she wanted to look at him but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She didn’t even remember this, but how was she supposed to? She’d met so many people at those things, her parents introduced her to everyone they knew. And of course she already knew she’d known of him before the funeral, but she didn’t realize that she’d actually met him before.
But he clearly hadn’t forgotten. Because whatever he thought that first time he met her, whatever feelings he’d had, had been enough to keep tabs on her until she turned eighteen. To take that opportunity of her parents dying to swoop in and be her hero. And then her ruin.
“I was - “ she said, furrowing her brows and trying to identify her age from the photo. Her hair had been shorter, her face rounder and more youthful, her smile brighter than it’d been in a long time. But what really sold it was the earrings, her first pair of hoops that her mom had given her on her birthday which she’d refused to take off until she’d lost one less than three months later. Which meant - “Fourteen.”
“I was fourteen,” she repeated, feeling the words settle in. “Fourteen,” she said one more time, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Well,” she said. “He did always like to make me look younger. He’d dress me older when I was out to make people forget how young I was, but then when it was just us - he made me look - not my age.”
“Aelin -” Rowan said, but she already realized how bad that was. Nausea suddenly struck her, and she clutched her stomach.
“I’m going to be sick,” she managed to force out, and Rowan barely had time to grab the trash can before she was retching into it.
She vomited into it as he grabbed her hair, rubbing her back with his other hand.
“Just let it out,” he said, murmuring words of comfort as she emptied the contents of her stomach. She could barely catch her breath between gags, bracing herself on her desk for support.
“Gods,” she groaned as she finally leaned back, wiping her mouth. “I don’t even know what to do. Or think.”
Rowan just shut the lid of the laptop, grabbing the hair tie off of her wrist to pull her hair back into a loose ponytail. It didn’t do much, as her hair was easily at the bottom of her ribcage, but it kept it back from her face as she tried to clean up the remnants of the vomit.
But then her stomach lurched and she gagged again, retching into the trash can.
“What the hell,” she complained, resting her cheek on the edge of the desk. Her boyfriend’s cool hand pressed against her forehead.
“Did you catch a fever?” His brows were furrowed. “You said you were feeling nauseous this morning too.”
She opened it to respond, but shut it immediately as a thought crossed her mind. Her brows furrowed and she sat up.
“What day is it?” She asked, turning her head slightly to look at him. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t. And yet -
“It’s the third,” he answered and her eyes widened as she turned all the way to face him. “What?” He asked, concerned.
“I -“ Aelin said, barely processing the idea. “I think I might be pregnant.”
Here’s a little outtake from STT in celebration of Mother’s Day! This takes place about five years after the events of the story 👀 make of that what you will.
———————————————————–
When Rowan woke up that morning, he did so ever so carefully, trying his very best not to wake up the woman slumbering next to him. Not that that was difficult; these days she slept so heavily it would take a lot more than him shifting around to wake her. Especially at such an early time of day.
Aelin’s golden hair was strewn across the sheets, her face tucked into his shoulder with her arms wrapped around him. He carefully extricated himself from her grip, rolling away slowly and replacing his body with a pillow.
She stirred a little bit then, but quickly fell back to a deep sleep, cuddling around the pillow instead. Rowan took the chance to climb up out of the bed quietly, waiting one moment before deeming himself safe.
To apologize for how long the next part of this fic is taking, here's a short little Rowan pov, picking up right from the end of part 26. Just a little insight into what he's thinking right now, his thoughts on everything. It's not much, but he has a lot on his mind.
dedicated to you @rowanaelinn , wishing for some good news soon ❤️
Aelin fell asleep right there in the bathtub, completely drained from the events of the past few days. Rowan couldn’t blame her, he was exhausted and he hadn’t been through nearly a quarter of what she’d experienced.
She was so strong, she’d survived so much, and he was grateful to be here to help her when she needed him to.
The more she’d told him, sitting there in the boiling water, the more he wanted to go back and find a way to resurrect Arobynn, just to kill him again, even more brutally than the car wreck that had finally ended his wretched life. And he didn’t even know everything. Aelin had spoken about some, but Rowan knew there was a lot missing from the day she’d spent back with that man, that day she spent in hell.
He’d let her come to him when she was ready, not a moment before then.
Besides, what she had told him was already enough to turn his stomach. He’d known that there’d been cameras around every inch of Hamel’s mansion, but Aelin’s apartment. The place that’d finally been safe for her, her first space of her own, and he’d -
Ruined it.
Though Rowan was going to try hard to convince her that it wasn’t all lost, that the times they spent there weren’t tainted, despite Arobynn being a silent observer for every single moment they’d ever shared there. Including, well, including when they’d said their “i love you’s”, when they’d kissed, when they’d had sex.
There was an intruder in those private moments, which had filled him with so much rage when he first heard that, when he first realized that. But he also realized that despite Aelin’s assurances, his anger was not what she needed right now. Especially not with where she’d just come from, the anger she no doubt experienced there.
Gods, she looked so haunted. Rowan wanted to pull every bad memory out of her brain and replace it with a good one. But he couldn’t, so he’d just do his best to make sure the good ones outweighed the bad.
He was careful to keep her leg from getting wet as he helped her out of the bathtub, Aelin only stirring a little as he grabbed a plush towel, drying her off carefully. He avoided any bruises on her body, including the ones on her face as he toweled off her hair.
Her nose was tender, bruises skirting around it, and her eye was too, blue and purple clouds scattered across her pale skin. And her neck… it was clear that she’d been strangled to some extent. And it was clear who caused all of it.
He felt sick.
But he shoved his own feelings to the side as he helped her into a spare t-shirt of his, one of the ones he’d picked up after his third day in the hospital. She hadn’t had a chance to go out and buy any of her own clothes yet, but he knew for a fact Lysandra was planning on taking her. Which Rowan was glad about, she could use a female friend, she could use a friend in general.
She’d been deprived of so many of those simple things in life that everyone took for granted: friends, freedom, happiness, support, loving parents, anyone who cared about her enough to make sure that she was safe. He was happy to fill as many roles as he could, but he couldn’t do everything. He shouldn’t be everything for her, it wasn’t healthy.
So maybe Lysandra could help.
“I love you,” Aelin said sleepily as he picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom, setting her gently on their bed. Their bed. He loved how official it sounded.
“I love you too, Fireheart,” he said quietly back to her, with a fond smile on his face as he combed through her hair softly, before braiding it loosely down her back and tying it with a hair tie. She was already asleep by the time he kissed her cheek, so he stood up carefully, tucking the comforter over her gently.
His love looked so peaceful, and he hoped it would last as long as possible.
It was just then he heard a bit of whining from the other room, and Rowan smiled again, leaving and shutting the bedroom door quietly behind him as he headed toward the next one. And sure enough, when he got inside, Elia was awake and fidgeting, despite having been put down just less than an hour before.
“Hey sweetheart,” Rowan cooed, lifting her up out of the crib and holding her against his chest, bouncing her softly. “What’s the matter? Everything’s alright.” He paced around a little bit, rocking her back and forth, hoping the motion would be soothing for her.
With one hand, he held her close to him, and with the other he caressed her red hair gently, shushing her softly.
“Mama’s okay, you’re okay,” he murmured, “I’m okay.” Elia whimpered quietly, though she was quieting down. “Do you just not want to go to bed, huh? Is that it?” He chuckled lightly. “I know you’re secretly stubborn, just like your mama. But it’s okay, because I love both of you, with all of your stubbornness.”
He looked down and found Elia blinking up at him with wide turquoise eyes, full of curiosity. He felt tears prick his own eyes at the sight, at the pure innocence looking back at him. He loved Aelin desperately, he loved being around her, loved spending time with her, hearing her laugh, just being by her side. But one of the things he loved the absolute most about her was the fact that she’d brought Elia into his life.
And they both irrevocably changed his life, certainly for the better.
All he could do now was prove to them that he deserved the honor of being by their side.
The next couple of weeks went by quickly, and horrifically slowly at the same time. Aelin went to the office every day, spending hours poring over paperwork she didn’t understand, getting lectured about aspects of her parents’ business that she didn’t even know existed, just to trail back to the hotel every evening and pass out by nine. Right after she put Elia to bed, she’d crash too, sometimes on the armchair right by her crib, too tired to even make it all the way back to her bed.
She’d always wake up tucked under the blankets, though, sometimes even with pajamas on and her hair braided back. That’s how tired she was.
Aelin always thanked Rowan with a soft kiss when he did that, proving time and time again how selfless he was. She also always woke up held safely in his arms, her head tucked under his chin, their legs entwined. She didn’t know who sought who out over the course of the night, but chances are it was both of them.
She needed to feel his comfort, to feel safe, and he needed to feel her to make sure she was still there. Aelin knew that he was focusing on her, putting all his energy toward helping her, but she tried to make sure that he knew that she was there for him as well.
She wasn’t the only one going through shit, and she wanted him to know that she understood.
Something they’d started to try to do was take breaks, take time for themselves. Yulemas had been a good break, just the week before. They’d had a small celebration in their hotel room with Elia, though she wasn’t even old enough to know what Yulemas was. But it’d been fun nonetheless.
It was easy to get wrapped up in the allure of the distraction of work, but it wasn’t good for either of them to sit there and pore over documents for hours on end, or take phone calls or sign things or have meetings - all the shit they’d been doing.
So at least once every day, they did something as a family. Something that wasn’t work. And that more effectively pulled her thoughts away from the dark still inside of her head.
It’d been a few weeks since the day in hell, but that wasn’t nearly long enough to forget what happened. And she wasn’t sure how long it would take.
School would be distracting soon enough; the spring semester started the next week. But Rowan and her had contacted the university and gotten special permission to do the first few weeks online, until they were settled back in Doranelle. Her story wasn’t public yet, but the school hadn’t needed much convincing once she’d given a basic summary of why she needed to be in Rifthold.
The university had known she’d come from money, but hadn’t known the circumstances surrounding her departure from that money. The Galathynius’ had been under the radar as much as possible, so the drama surrounding her family was really only circulated in Rifthold and the surrounding areas. Maybe across the rest of Adarlan too, but not all the way out in Doranelle.
But she was sure her peace there would come to an end once the story about the car crash broke. Because everyone knew the name Arobynn Hamel.
That had been Rowan and Lorcan’s special project that first day. They’d taken it upon themselves to go and convince all the necessary parties to hold back on publishing any sort of information about what had happened. The world knew that Arobynn Hamel was dead, and they knew how he died, but barely anyone knew that she had been in the car too.
She was grateful for that little bit of privacy, though she didn’t think it was going to last much longer. And then the swarms of paparazzi would be upon her. Because that’s the kind of drama they’d be seeking. Not about the money, no one but her cared about the money. They all assumed she was still rich anyway, a wealthy Galathynius, because no one knew the truth.
No, they would want the juicy details about why the hell the only Galathynius daughter was in a car with Arobynn Hamel in the middle of the night, halfway up a mountain in the pouring rain. That had gossip written all over it, and Aelin wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready for those prying questions.
She didn’t know how he’d kept their relationship a secret for so long, but she was sure it wasn’t going to be a secret much longer. And she didn’t know how she was going to manage all of that.
But - it wasn’t time to worry about that. Because it was time for dinner.
Rowan was taking her out to a fancy restaurant in downtown Rifthold, after making sure it wasn’t one that she’d ever been to with Arobynn. They’d discussed the idea of bringing Elia with them, but Aelin didn’t want to risk any paparazzi catching sight of her. She didn’t want her daughter being a spectacle.
So it’d be just the two of them. And Aelin was wearing the perfect dress.
It was the velvet green one she’d gotten while out shopping with Lysandra, who was actually babysitting Elia that evening as Elide and Lorcan had flown back to Doranelle. Aelin hadn’t had any occasion in mind when buying it, but this was the perfect time to bring it out.
She’d curled her hair all nice and pretty, and had even put on some makeup, though that was mainly to cover up the last dredges of the fading bruises on her skin. They were almost gone completely, but she didn’t even want to think about them tonight. So she just covered them up.
“Aelin?” Rowan’s voice sounded through the bathroom door, with a light rap of his knuckles against the wood. “Are you ready to go? Our reservation is in half an hour.”
She did one last check in the mirror, before smoothing her hands down the fabric of her dress and opening the door. “Yes,” she said with a smile. “I’m ready.”
His expression was almost comical, the pure wonder and admiration on his face making her blush. He looked like he’d never seen something more beautiful in his life.
But she couldn’t help but admire him right back, with his nice dress pants and dark green button up that perfectly matched her dress, and the suit jacket that hugged his arms just right. Gods, she could devour him. She wanted to devour him. And he was looking at her just the same way.
“You are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Rowan complimented, his hands reaching to hook around her waist, pulling her closer. Aelin just hummed, her hands coming to hook around his neck, smirking up at him.
“I know,” she said flippantly, and he chuckled, leaning in to steal a kiss.
“Well then, Miss Galathynius,” he teased, “will you do me the honor of making me the best accompanied man in all of Rifthold?” He stepped back, holding out his arm for her to take. Aelin rolled her eyes but accepted.
“Well then, let’s go, Mr. Whitethorn.”
———
The restaurant was crowded, and Aelin found herself grateful they had reservations as she saw the sprawling line outside. Especially as the sun faded, leaving a chill in the air that forced her to wear a coat over her dress. When they got to the door, all they had to do was walk inside and they were immediately shown to their table, no waiting involved.
“What can I get you two to drink?” Their waiter asked, holding his hands together in front of his apron. Aelin smiled politely back.
“I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay,” she answered, and she could feel Rowan’s shock radiating from him. But she just looked at the waiter.
“Can I see your ID miss?” He asked, and Aelin blinked, before reaching for her purse, grabbing her University ID. It had her birthday on it, that should be good enough. It’s not like she had a drivers license to show anyway, this would have to do. “Okay,” the waiter said with a smile, handing it back, “and what about for you mister?”
“Just a water, please,” Rowan said, smiling tightly at the man, who then nodded and left. There was a moment of silence before - “wine?” He asked, “you’re comfortable with that?”
It would sound judgmental to anyone else, but she knew him well enough to know that it was concern lining the words, not superiority.
“Yeah,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I mean- I was staying sober mostly because I’d used alcohol as a method of self destruction, and then because of Elia. But I’m not really breastfeeding anymore, and I’m trying to put everything behind me right?” She shrugged, trying to figure out the best way to explain her thought process. “I want to be able to enjoy a glass of wine at dinner, and I should be able to. Especially now that he’s - gone.”
“So - “
“So yes,” Aelin chuckled, “I’m comfortable with it.”
“Good,” Rowan said with a smile, leaning back in his chair and picking up the menu. Aelin did the same, running her eyes over the dozens of entrees lining the pages. It all sounded absolutely delicious, though maybe that was just because of how starving she was.
The lighting in the restaurant was soft and dim, giving everything an intimate and romantic air, especially with the way each booth was tucked into its own little corner. It was just her and Rowan in their own little world here, except when the waiter brought them their drinks.
They both thanked the waiter, and then they were left in quiet peace again, sipping their drinks and reading over the menu. Well, she took a single sip of the wine before cringing at the taste, her face twisting in disgust. She set it down lightly and ignored it after that, sticking out her tongue at Rowan’s teasing chuckle.
She’d tried, which was important to her. Sobriety hadn’t been some huge milestone to her, it’d just been necessary for multiple reasons. She’d self-destructed because of Arobynn, now that she was trying to move on, she could move past that frame of mind.
“Thank you,” Aelin said after a moment, breaking the silence.
“Hm?” Rowan asked, brows furrowed, “for what?” She couldn’t meet his eyes, her cheeks flaming at the vulnerability she was feeling. Not that she had to be self-conscious in front of him, but she was.
“For being by my side,” she said quietly, finally looking up at his understanding face. She couldn’t describe what passed between them in that moment, but the feeling settled firmly in her chest, glowing warmly like a crackling fire.
He just took her hand on the table and squeezed it once. There was no need for any other response, that said enough.
“So what are you thinking of getting?” Aelin asked after another minute or so, her eyes back to perusing the menu, her blush fading.
“I’m not sure,” Rowan said, leaning back in his chair, his dress shirt pulling tightly against his muscles. “I live with a college budget,” he laughed, “I’m not used to this.”
She smirked, resting her head on her hand and cheekily running her foot up his pant leg. “I’m your sugar mama now,” she joked, “you don’t have to worry about a thing.”
He let out a bright laugh, his handsome face twisting into a smile, and she found herself smiling too at the sight. At how happy he looked.
“Speaking of college,” he said after a moment, “are you ready for your second semester?” She smiled, raising her brows at him.
“Are you ready to graduate?” She asked right back and he sighed, the mood dropping a bit.
“Am I ready to figure out what the hell I'm doing after college?” He said a bit cynically. “Not really.” Aelin narrowed her eyes and looked at him, deeming the negative thoughts unacceptable.
“What the hell do you mean?” She asked, and he blinked at her. “If you managed to forget, I am now the owner and CEO of an international commercial real estate company, with a shit ton of connections and opportunities. I may have been joking about the sugar mama thing, but I’m here for you in every way I can be.”
She tried to make her voice sound as sincere as possible, and she watched as the words sank into him, his shoulders relaxing.
“You really don’t even have to work if you don’t want to,” she continued, chuckling a little. “I can be the breadwinner of our little family.” She didn’t miss the way his eyes warmed at the word. Family.
“No, I want to do something with my time,” he said, smiling, “I’d get restless if I didn’t. I just haven’t quite figured out what yet.”
“Well let me know when you do,” Aelin said fondly, looking back down at the menu. That was another benefit of all of the money, they had a chance to actually relax. It wasn’t in either of their natures to not work at all, but while everything in their lives were being shaken up, it was nice to have that security.
“What do you want to do?” He asked, and she paused, a small bolt of panic running through her. She was saved from answering by the waiter coming again, and they both placed their orders efficiently, smiling at the man as he left them alone again.
“What?” She asked, purposefully vague.
“I know you, Aelin,” Rowan said, his voice calm but serious. “I know you’re joking about this and you’re going to try and accept this new responsibility because you feel like you need to, but what do you actually want to do?”
She didn’t know, and that was the problem.
“I’m figuring it out,” she finally answered, taking another sip of her wine, though it tasted just as bad as it had the first time. “Just give me some time.”
“Of course,” was his response, and she knew it was sincere, so she didn’t respond, letting silence fall before they slipped into a different, lighter conversation.
Soon enough, their food came, and Aelin got to take a bite of the delicious looking chicken parmesan she’d ordered. Except, when she started chewing on a piece, she frowned. There was something weird about the taste that she couldn’t identify. It wasn’t bad, just weird, and she cringed a bit as she swallowed.
She didn’t eat another piece, just pushing it around on the plate with her fork as Rowan devoured his own food. They’d both been starving. Except, she wasn’t very hungry anymore, a different thought swirling in her mind, one that’d been deep in there for a while now, just not having the right moment to make itself known.
But it was now.
“Do you think Elia’s developing too slowly?” Aelin asked, staring at her gross chicken.
“What makes you say that?” Rowan asked, setting his fork down and looking up at her. She just shrugged noncommittal.
“She’s almost a year and half now, and she barely speaks at all,” she said, conveying the worry that’d been slowly eating at her. “She can crawl and she can stand but she can’t walk. And it just makes me feel like it’s a problem, that I haven’t been doing enough and she’s behind becau-”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” he interrupted, gesturing with his hand. Aelin looked up at him, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Babies develop at different speeds, they hit these milestones at different times. Just ask Elide, she knows all about this. And you can try and help of course, but there’s only so much you can do, okay?”
She hesitated but nodded.
“She’s just taking her time,” Rowan insisted, “we just have to give her a little more of it, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Aelin said, spearing another piece of her chicken with her fork. It seemed like they all needed a bit more time.
——
Aelin’s arm cut through the warm water as she swam backwards through the pool, enjoying the feeling of the water surrounding her body, the feeling of being weightless. It was dark out, and they technically weren’t supposed to be out there, but the pool was heated and it just looked too good to resist, so they’d snuck in, both her and Rowan, and Elia.
Her daughter was loving the experience, too thrilled by something new to be too tired.
The idea had struck Aelin while leaving the restaurant, so they’d stopped at the nearest store, picking up bathing suits for all three of them, and a baby pool floatie for Elia to sit in and float around. She couldn’t swim yet, but if there was something supporting her she could enjoy the water too.
She sighed, closing her eyes as she floated around, ending up back by where Rowan was pulling Elia around. The little girl was laughing in delight, earning soft laughter from Rowan too.
He looked absolutely mouthwatering in his bathing suit, his abs and muscular arms completely on display, but she’d held herself back, just preening in the looks he gave her in her own bathing suit. They’d seen each other naked, many times, but it still felt intimate the way he looked at her, like he was admiring not only her body, but her very soul too.
She sank under the water, keeping her eyes closed and blowing air out her nose to avoid getting water in it. It was peaceful under the water, it was quiet and dark and calm.
Her ears were muffled, and when she did open her eyes, all she saw was pale light swirling through the water, like a beautiful tapestry spun with golden thread. She could stay down here for hours, just basking in the silence.
Until that silence was broken by a precious giggle.
A small smile grew on her face, and she pushed upward, breaking the surface of the water right by the source of that giggle.
“Mama!” Her daughter cooed and Aelin reached out and tickled her side a bit, earning another laugh.
“Hi baby,” she said, swooping in and kissing her head. “Enjoying the pool?” She giggled again, smiling brightly, and Aelin smiled back, grabbing her floatie and spinning her around a bit.
Rowan came to stand next to her, kissing her wet hair, and Aelin hummed in content, leaning into him.
“She’s just so cute,” she said quietly, and he chuckled.
“I can’t say you’re wrong,” he admitted, and she looked up at him, meeting his grin with a matching one. The soft lights from the pool glowed across his face, and she stood up on her tiptoes in the water, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, feeling the slight stubble against her lips.
He hadn’t had as much time, nor thought, to shave lately, and Aelin had half a mind to tell him to stop doing it so much, to leave the stubble. There was something endearing about it, though maybe that was just because of how desperately in love with him she was.
If someone had told her, only three months ago, that her stuck up tutor would be the love of her life, she would’ve scoffed. If someone had told her that she’d find it in herself to trust someone like this again, to give someone her heart so willingly, she would’ve thought they were absolutely batshit crazy.
Rowan had walked into her life an unwelcome stranger, and now was completely here to stay. And Aelin would forever be grateful for it.
She had no idea how long they’d been staring at each other for, lost in each other’s eyes like the lovesick fools they were, but she was pulled out of her reverie by a simple word.
“Dada,” Elia cooed, and she could see Rowan freeze. A smile grew on her face. They both turned to look at their daughter, seeing her moving her little arms and legs in the floatie like she could actually move to him.
But Aelin watched her boyfriend out of the corner of her eye as Elia repeated the endearment. A million emotions passed over his face, and she could see the tears lining his green eyes as it finally processed. A gorgeous smile broke out on his face and he reached for her, lifting her out of the floatie and holding her in his arms.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” He asked, “what do you want?” But she seemed satisfied just to be close to him, and he kissed her hair, rubbing her back softly before looking over at Aelin.
Aelin smiled softly at him as he sniffed back the tears undoubtedly trying to spill, and she mouthed i love you, which he repeated back to her.
She knew how much that simple word meant to him, for more reasons than one, and she was happy she was there to witness the moment, even if it hadn’t been when she’d expected it to be.
Elia had first said it over three weeks ago now, almost a month, that’s how long it’d been, and she hadn’t attempted to say it again before now. But, like Rowan had said, she was just taking her time.
------
The next day was like every other day had been so far. She and Rowan woke up, got ready, got Elia ready for the day, got her to Lysandra, and then headed down to the lobby to leave the hotel and head to the office a few minutes away. But when they got downstairs that morning, Aelin knew it wasn’t going to be that simple.
Because right outside the door, right outside on the street…
Cameras. Everywhere.
“Shit,” Aelin cursed, slowing down to a stop in the lobby. Rowan paused behind her. She could practically feel him frowning. She hadn’t checked her phone yet that morning, but she guessed the news had broken. So now - the reporters were swarming.
“What do you want to do?” He asked her in a low voice, but she just stood up straighter, steeling herself.
“Let’s just go,” she said tensely. “They can’t get anything out of us if we just ignore them.” She started walking again, her heels clicking against the marble floor, staring straight ahead as the doors opened in front of her. Rowan was in step right with her, and she took strength in his presence as she headed toward the car waiting for them.
“Aelin!” “Aelin!” She heard shouted by reporters as she passed, pulling her coat tighter to herself to protect against the windy chill in the air. “Miss Galathynius!”
She blinked at that one, stumbling over her steps for a second before taking a breath, keeping her chin up as she reached the car, her hand reaching for the door handle.
“Do you have any comment on the news?”
“Why were you in the car, Aelin?”
“How did you feel being the only survivor?”
Question after question hit her, the snaps of the cameras filling her ears and eyes, but she kept the panic low, climbing into the car and sliding over to let Rowan in too. He shut the door behind him, and silence fell.
“Aelin-”
“It’s fine,” she interrupted, waving him off. But inside… she was stewing.
By the time they pulled up to the curb outside the building, she had a fully fledged suspicion, but more paparazzi was waiting for her, so she crafted her face into cool composure and ignored them as she strolled inside. And they weren’t allowed inside, so it was quiet the whole way up to her floor; to her office.
Darrow was already there, getting what she needed to do set up for the day. He’d been a real godsend throughout this whole process, but her attention focused on his legal assistant: Ren.
“Ren,” she addressed, “can you do me a huge favor?” He blinked, but nodded. “I don’t know how much you have access to,” she continued while walking, everyone following right in step, like she was the boss in some blockbuster corporate movie. “But can you get me every single official document related to both me and Mr. Hamel?”
“Like what?” The young man asked, and she answered, trying her best not to sound suspicious.
“Like birth certificates, passports, marriage licenses… just official things like that,” Aelin said cooly, “there’s something I want to check.”
Rowan was looking at her oddly, like he knew what was going on in her head. And he probably did. But she just kept going, stepping into her office and collapsing into her chair. Ren had gone off to fulfill her request, Rowan sat in his own chair across from her, and Darrow remained standing, though he shut the door behind him.
He didn’t seem to be questioning anything like Rowan was. But her boyfriend had the good idea not to bring it up with the other man around. Besides, Aelin didn’t want to get into it until she could make sure she was wrong. Or right. She didn’t know which she wanted to be true.
“The media have gotten a hold of what happened,” Darrow said, unhelpfully, and she frowned, rubbing her thigh through her pants. The injury was still bothering her, as it’d only been a few weeks. However determined she was to pretend like it hadn’t happened, her body said something different. And with all the activity recently, it was flaming up a bit.
“I can tell,” she said flatly, before sighing. “It was only a matter of time anyways.”
Darrow didn’t look offended by the sass, just continuing on with his musing. “We need to do something about it, make a statement or something, otherwise it’s going to bring too much unwanted attention.”
Aelin scrubbed at her face with her hands, resting her elbows on her desk. “It’s already bringing too much attention,” she grumbled. Both the men remained quiet, and eventually she leaned back in her chair, her face drained as she looked at them. “Okay,” she admitted, “what should we do?”
------
It was a few hours later, a few hours filled with plotting, strategizing, and endless circles of what now? by the time Ren got back, carrying two files. Aelin thanked him as he set them on her desk, and he quickly departed, back to whatever duties his actual job entailed, leaving her and Rowan alone.
It was silent as she flipped open the one on top, seeing her own face looking up at her.
Aelin really hadn’t known how much she’d be able to access, and she assumed these were only copies anyway, but she supposed she could access any of her own information, and since Arobynn had left everything he’d ever owned to the company, they effectively had access to all of his information too.
Hence the second file.
“What do you think you’re going to find in there?” Rowan asked as she looked through the documents in her folder. There wasn’t much of interest there, just a copy of her birth certificate, a copy of her parents’ death certificates, information about the wreck itself, etc. There were some legal documents she supposed pertained to her inheritance and her share of the company, but she didn’t have the brain power to look at those right now so she set them aside, searching for one thing.
“Aelin-” Rowan repeated, and she snapped the file shut, her mouth pressed in a thin line.
“I’ll let you know when I find it,” she said, reaching for the other. Arobynn’s slimy face appeared when she opened it, and she flipped away from it quickly, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t want to deal with that right now.
Adrenaline was racing through her, faster and faster, as she looked through everything, flipping pages almost manically as she searched for what she needed to find. Eventually, everything in the file was spread across the desk, and she was standing over it, shuffling papers around as she desperately looked for the one document that mattered.
But eventually she had to admit -
“It’s not here,” she said flatly, her face blank.
“What’s not here?” He asked, his eyes narrowed.
“Our marriage license,” she answered, her voice wavering. “It’s not here.” She shook her head. “And I don’t think it exists.”
She let her eyes fall closed, taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly. Without opening them again, she answered his unspoken question.
“I had the idea when that reporter called me Miss Galathynius earlier,” she admitted, “it got me thinking: as prying as everyone in the media is, how in the world would he be able to hide something that concrete?”
Her eyes snapped open, and she looked at Rowan, who’s own face was grim as he came to the same conclusion.
“People can be bribed, files can be stolen, information can be leaked,” she said, “it’s not possible for no one to know that there was a marriage between us. That we were married.” She nearly spit the words. “It’s just another lie.” Her hand curled around her own file, frustration brewing inside of her. “Just another fucking lie!”
In a burst of anger, she threw the file across the room, panting as all the papers fell out of it, floating down to the floor.
“I want to know everything,” she spit, looking over at Rowan. “I want to know everything he knows, everything he’s kept from me. I want to see everything he was fucking looking at and storing on his fucking laptop, everything he’s ever known about me.” She slammed a fist on her desk.
Maybe she should be a bit embarrassed by the outburst, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be, not with the anger still racing through her. Such an immediate change from their peaceful swimming the night before. They were supposed to be healing and moving on, as a family, but more and more shit just kept getting piled on.
“I need to know,” she finally whispered, and Rowan just nodded once.
This one is quite a ride, so enjoy:) Sorry for the little delay
Warning: Angst, NSFW content | Word Count: 5,800
Aelin threw one last glance into the mirror and smiled at her reflection. Her hair was tied in a loose bun on the back of her head, some strands of hair falling over her face. She wore a shirt with the logo of her favorite band, the shirt was tucked into a red plaid skirt and some pair of ripped thighs.
She was pretty, and she was herself.
She grabbed her bag and slid her toothbrush into it, smiling even harder at the reminder that she wasn’t coming home tonight. This hadn’t been in the plans at first, but Aelin wasn’t going to complain about it.
Rowan texted her the day after their night out, delivering news that had her grinning for the entire day. Helia was up for Aelin to join in her Monthday. Aelin wasn’t just happy about the fact that she’d see Rowan for an entire evening. No, Aelin wanted to spend that moment with Helia. The girl had been so nice to Aelin… It wasn’t surprising considering who was raising her.
Rowan was the human being that showed Aelin the most kindness and acceptance. She could never repay him enough for it, for making her feel like she was enough.
Voices were loud in the kitchen, and Aelin assumed that Dorian came home from wherever he picked his friend up. Her lies were creatively crafted to explain her missing presence. Using Aedion wouldn’t do, Lysandra and him were too close. She couldn’t take the risk of using Gavriel as an excuse either, there was always the possibility of Aedion saying one thing about his father for Aelin’s lies to fall. Saying she was at her parents wouldn’t do. She didn’t move out of their house to spend all her free time there.
Elain Archeron.
She was her lie.
Aelin hadn’t seen the woman in almost a year now, but she always loved her. She was the sister of one of Aelin’s childhood friends: Feyre. Aelin already spoke of her before to her roommates, she had plenty of pictures with her to post at least one this weekend to pretend, and Elain was such a discreet woman that all her social medias were in private.
It was the perfect lie, no way for her roommates to find something strange in her behavior.
She didn’t like to lie, but it was a small price to pay to see Rowan.
She grabbed her coat and left her room, a small smile on her face. She couldn’t wait to see Rowan. Her taxi should be there any minute now, and she had some of her notes in her bag to read on her way there.
“You want a beer, man?” Dorian asked as Aelin entered the living room, seeing him with another man who only showed her his back.
“You already know the answer,” the mystery man answered.
Aelin’s heart nearly stopped, the voice was so, so familiar. She barely noticed her phone falling on the floor, her entire and sole focus on the man who turned around at the loud noise.
Chaol’s eyes widened when he saw her, and she was struck dumb. If there was someone she never expected to see in that fucking apartment it was Chaol Westfall. Why had Dorian invited him? How did they know each other?
“You alright, Aelin?” Dorian asked, retrieving her phone from the floor and handing it to her.
“What the fuck, Dor?”
“What is it, Ae?”
“What are you doing here?” Chaol asked her, now in the living room.
Shock started fading away, leaving place for an emotion Aelin could barely recognize. She didn’t know what to feel. ‘’What are you doing in my apartment?”
He turned to Dorian, “She’s one of your roommates?”
Dorian was the perfect portrayal of confusion, and she might have laughed at his face if the situation wasn’t so fucked up.
“You two know each other?”
Aelin turned to Dorian, pleading in her eyes to get Chaol far away. She didn’t want to have to deal with that. She was supposed to have a good day. “Dipshit ex who I caught fucking someone else? Congrats, you found it.”
“It?” Chaol asked. “Very mature, Aelin. As always.”
She wanted to punch him. Should she do it? It seemed like the best idea in the world for now.
“What’s that outfit anyway?” He asked, disdain in his voice so clear and evident that Aelin had to fight against the urge to physically hurt him. “You look like a fifteen years old who-”
“Hey,” Dorian stopped him before he could say something else. Aelin’s eyebrows shot up, she never heard Dorian sound that way. “Leave it, alright?”
She was so thankful for her friend now. She knew she could snap something and win whatever argument would happen, but was it worth it? Not when there were more pressing matters waiting for her on the other side of town.
Helia and Rowan. Yeah, that was what she had to focus on now. Not clawing Chaol’s pretty face.
She glanced at her phone, groaning when she saw the broken screen. Amazing. Her cab was still not there, her only escape route.
“How do you two know each other, anyway?” Aelin asked, searching in her memories for any moment Dorian could have hinted at knowing Chaol.
Aelin didn’t remember ever saying Chaol’s name, only referring to him as many kinds of nasty names with Lysandra. Fuck! She was so stupid to think life would let her go on with her plans without any obstacles.
“Childhood friends,” Chaol explained.
She crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side, “You never told me about him.”
“We didn’t speak for years,” Dorian explained the moment Aelin got a text from the taxi driver.
“I need to go,” she put on her coat as she walked for the door, but Chaol grabbed her wrist.
“Let go.”
“We need to talk,” he pleaded.
“I think me avoiding your phone calls for months explains clearly enough how I feel about that.”
“Please, Ae. Give me a-”
“I have better things to do, Chaol. Good-bye,” she said, closing the door behind her and rushing into the yellow car.
—
Rowan’s smile was bright when he opened the door, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased when she saw him. She let out a small sigh of relief, rushing into Rowan’s arms. She didn’t care that she would probably look clingy, she just needed to feel him.
He closed the door behind them, trapping them in the warmth of his home, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
He placed a delicate kiss on the top of her head. “What is it?”
She didn’t answer, only squeezing him harder. She had no idea what and how to feel. She was so adamant about forgetting about Chaol that… Everything she felt that day came back.
Rowan kissed the crown of her head one more time and she let go, feeling more relaxed than before. He cupped her cheek in his hand, and she leaned into the touch. “What is wrong?”
“Nothing,” she answered.
He snorted, “You’re such a liar.”
He helped her take off her coat before disposing of it fairly quickly. He kissed her cheek and led her to the kitchen, where two glasses of red wine were already served. He placed one in her hand, and Aelin didn’t wait before taking a sip of it. Fuck, it was a good one. He looked at her knowingly.
“Are you going to keep me waiting?”
“Maybe I don’t want to talk about that,” she answered.
He raised an eyebrow, “You know you can talk to me, right?”
He sighed, “Of course, I do, Ro. You know I do. I don’t know, I just keep coming here to complain and I don’t want to do this today. It’s a special day for your kid and I don’t want to ruin everything with insignificant problems.”
“I will sound like a broken record, but I don’t care. Aelin, if something’s bothering you then talk about it,” he told her encouragingly. “Nothing’s insignificant or bothering us. You need to work on that, people don’t see you the way you see yourself.”
She frowned, “What is that supposed to mean?”
He let out a long breath, placing his glass of wine on the counter. “You think you’re a bother and a waste of space, so you automatically assume that’s how everyone sees you.”
She placed her own glass right beside Rowan’s and crossed her arms. “You don’t know that. You barely know me, and that’s some deep stuff you’re assuming about me. I’m not like that. I like myself just fine, thank you.”
“Yeah?” He asked, and the tone changed. Aelin didn’t like it one bit, but between Chaol and this… Yeah, it wasn’t a good day. “Sure, Aelin. I mean, everyone who loves themselves will ruin their health to study something just to please their parents, right?”
“You know why I do that,” she snapped. “But sure, Rowan. You want to speak about things we shouldn’t do if we really loved ourselves? At least I didn’t stay married to someone who cheated on me.”
She saw the blow landing before she could realize what she said, and of course, Aelin kept going.
“But I know why you did that, and I’m not judging you for it. Maybe you should take notes.”
“Judging you?” he frowned, and she was quite impressed at how his anger was voiced without him actually raising his voice. She didn’t know where Helia was, but he probably didn’t want the girl to hear them. Aelin felt the same, and she didn’t want to scream at Rowan either. She kept her voice on the same level. “You think that’s what I’m doing? Judging you?”
“That sounds a hell lot like it.”
He huffed a laugh, and Aelin was mixed between wanting to wrap him into her arms and never speaking about it again to keep lashing at him. Knowing herself, she’d always choose the latter option, not that it was the choice she preferred. Just… The easiest.
“It doesn’t. You just get mad the moment someone points out the obvious about you. That wasn’t a critic, for Mala’s sake. I was telling you I didn’t see you that way and yet, you felt it like a declaration of war.”
She swallowed, looking away for a minute. It took a lot in her not to lash out and ruin everything there was between them. Twice already she’d used his marriage against him, what kind of person was she?
One word and she knew she could end it, ruin this thing that was growing and kept growing. Was she scared of it? She was. She was fucking terrified of it. But when she looked up to find him looking at her, his eyes not full of anger like she imagined them, she quickly realized she couldn’t hurt him. Even if it was her own way to protect herself against what scared her, she just… couldn’t. Not to him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that, or just snapped. I just do that sometimes, I don’t know why.”
“You don’t know why?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. She shook her head in answer. He sighed, “Well, I had a little idea but if I speak you’re gonna bite my head off.”
She rolled her eyes as he chuckled a little, “C'mon on, old man. Speak your mind.”
He came closer to her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re a fight or flight kind of girl,” Rowan said, and Aelin frowned.
Was she?
Her first instinct was to deny it, but then… She cut off all her friends when Celaena died, she fought with Aedion whenever he tried to tell her something, she and Chaol kept arguing and the moment she caught him cheating… She flew.
Oh.
Rowan chuckled as he saw the realization on her face, and she gave him a gentle slap to the shoulder. He shook his head and brought her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her head curled on his torso as he played with her hair. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
He kissed the top of her head, “It’s alright. You were right on some points.”
He lifted her head and his lips caught hers. She sighed into the kiss, grabbing the back of his head to keep him just right there. He wasn’t her professor, or a man much older than she was right now. No, he was just the solution to everything wrong.
She could be addicted to the way he made her feel, to the way it was so easy to forget her problems when he was around. He gave her lips one last peek before pulling away, a silly smile on his face.
“Where’s Helia?”
“Her highness is having a party tea with her friends and we are under strict interdiction to enter the room.”
Aelin raised her eyebrows, “There are multiple toddlers in that house and it’s that quiet?”
He shook his head, “Hell, no. Whenever I have her and Eliott at the same time I’m already losing my mind. We’re more talking of stuffed animals kind of friends.”
“Ah,” Aelin smiled. “The best kind of friends.”
“I agree,” he said. “No drama and they’re quiet. They could even be my best friends just for that.”
She chuckled, her head falling on his shoulder.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how we didn’t speak of what was bothering you.”
“I wasn’t kidding myself, don’t worry,” she said.
“Do you want to talk about it now?”
She lifted her head and shook it. “Later?”
He nodded, “As long as you speak about it one day it’s fine.”
—
“She’s here!” Aelin said excitedly when Helia came downstairs. She was dressed in a replica of Snow-White’s dress. “How was the tea party?”
The little girl gave her a small smile, hugging her father’s leg. “Mr. Huggy made a mess! He spilled tea everywhere.”
Rowan’s eyes widened, “Mr. Huggy would never!”
Helia nodded with such a serious look on her face, “He did.”
Rowan frowned, “That’s not very nice of him.”
“Who’s Mr. Huggy?" Aelin asked.
“My best friend!” Helia all but screamed in excitement. “Wait! I’ll show you!”
And with that, she was running back to the stairs, probably back to her room. Aelin’s smile was big when she looked back at Rowan. “It’s the cuddly toy I bought her when she was born,” he explained. “She loves it.”
“It’s cute.”
Helia came back with a huge cat, a full black one. She started telling Aelin about Mr. Huggy’s stories, how messy the toy was and how it always spilled tea everywhere. Aelin listened to every word the toddler said and didn’t miss one.
“I have a little gift for you,” Aelin said. “I’m afraid it’s a little melted, but it’s to thank you for inviting me today.”
“What is the gift?” Helia asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
Aelin took off the ice cream container from her bag and handed it to Helia. If Rowan was gonna buy the toddler’s silence with ice-cream, Aelin was going to help. The girl jumped, screaming: “Chocolate! Chocolate!”
“You like chocolate?”
“Yes!” Helia nodded. “It’s the best.”
“I entirely agree,” Aelin said, and she found Rowan looking at her funny. “Is everything okay?”
“Dada doesn’t like chocolate,” Helia snitched on Rowan. “He only eats vanilla ice cream.”
Aelin booed him, and surprisingly, Helia joined in. Rowan looked at her as if she was a traitor, and she only laughed. She kinda liked teaming up with Helia.
“Chocolate is the only valid ice cream flavour.”
“Quiet and stop bringing fattening things to my daughter,” Rowan joked, grabbing the ice cream and putting it in the freezer.
“No!” Helia screamed in protest. If Aelin had to guess, she’d say the little girl really loved ice-cream.
They ordered food, and obviously it was Helia who chose. She picked sushi, and Aelin cringed internally. She wouldn’t say anything, but she really disliked eating fish.
But somehow, Rowan knew and he ordered things on the side for Aelin. She smiled brightly at him, making a mental note to kiss him when Helia was in another room. She only told him once that she didn’t like fish, and he remembered.
“Do you wanna choose the movie?” Helia asked, holding the television remote to Aelin.
She smiled at the question, and said, “You sure?”
Helia nodded, taking a mouthful of her sushi. She spoke, her mouth full of food: “Your favorite movie!”
Aelin snorted at the way Rowan scowled her for speaking with her mouth full. The little girl held her ground, though. She thought it was lovely, at least it was a good indicator on how Rowan treated her if she wasn’t scared of him.
Not that Aelin doubted he was the best father in the world.
“My favourite movie has lots of songs in it, do you like that?”
Helia nodded, “Like princess movies?”
“Almost,” she smiled. “But it’s better.”
Rowan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her toward him, and it felt so natural as she laid on his side. She put on Mamma Mia!, unsure on if Helia would like it.
She shouldn’t have worried, Helia started singing and dancing along, and when Aelin’s favourite song played, she stood with Helia.
She couldn’t help but laugh, such a deep and enjoyable emotion, when Rowan took his phone and recorded Aelin and his daughter dancing together. That was happiness. She never wanted to leave.
—
Aelin was waiting for him, in his bed. In nothing but black lace covering a few parts of her body, nothing much, really. It left her exposed for him to see when he’d come back from tucking Helia in. This was her own way of taking the matter into her own hands.
She couldn’t help herself when she saw the lingerie in her drawer before leaving, and she knew that it was the perfect thing to wear tonight. It was all straps and lace, something that helped Aelin feel empowered.
After what he told her the last time she was here, Aelin took it like a challenge to make him fall for her.
In reality, Aelin wanted what he wanted, too. She wanted to scream her pleasure, to keep touching him for an entire night without a single moment of break. She really wanted that, but she was realistic.
Rowan was the father of a daughter while being a surgeon, too. While Aelin was a busy med student. All these parameters didn’t look good together, and she didn’t think a night free from any obligation was in their futures.
And Aelin didn’t want to wait.
She wanted him in her, wanted him to feel the soft caress of his skin against her. She wanted their breathing to become one and the same, she wanted to hear these noises he made…
So, Aelin thought that waiting for him half-naked in his bed was the best way to go.
And when Rowan entered the room and spotted her on the bed… His reaction was priceless. His eyes widened, and he stopped in his steps.
Seconds turned into a minute as his eyes drew around every curve of her body, his breathing slightly uneven as he admired her. She didn’t say anything, keeping her arms braced over her head and her legs slightly crossed over the other to keep her body just the way she wanted it.
“What is that for?” Rowan asked, and she couldn’t help the chill that his deep voice sent down her spine.
“I don’t know, Rowan,” she breathed. “You tell me.”
He walked closer to her, standing on the side of the bed. He kept his eyes on her body and yet, he still hasn’t touched her. “Looks to me that you’re so impatient you couldn’t even wait for me to come back.”
“What if I was?” She asked, her voice slightly slurred.
He sat next to her, his eyes finally finding hers and Aelin’s entire body heated when she saw how dark they were. Hungry. He looked hungry, and it was all for her.
His fingers brushed the curve of her waist, slowly tracing the lines of her body. Her breathing quickened and she closed her eyes, parting her lips.
He chuckled darkly, and she pressed her legs together for some friction at the sound. “I’ll never get over how easy it is for your body to wake up to my touch.”
“Rowan,” she breathed once he traced the outline of her bra. His fingers burned on their path on her skin. She wanted more. No, she needed it. He was setting her aflame and she needed him to fuel her.
“What is it baby?”
“Please,” she let out a small moan when he traced her nipple over her underwear, his touch hard enough for heat to pool in her core.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said, bullshit so clear in his voice. “Would you mind using your words, Aelin?”
She cursed him inside, her eyebrows pitched together when two of his fingers closed around the hardened peak of her left breast, and she moaned.
“Hm? I didn’t quite hear that.”
“Fuck,” she breathed as Rowan did the same to her other breast. “Please, Rowan.”
“Please, what? As much as I’d love to, I can’t read that beautiful mind of yours, Aelin.”
“Please, fuck me,” she opened her eyes to find him with a victorious grin, her core tightening.
“Wasn’t I clear enough last week?” he asked, “I want you screaming beneath me.”
“You had no problem with my lack of screaming when you fucked me in a bathroom,” Aelin snapped, which only earned a chuckle from him.
“You’re right, I didn’t. But maybe I want a change.”
She raised an eyebrow, “And is it a one time thing? You’ll have me screaming, but today I need you.”
His eyes darkened even more, and she was surprised it was possible. “Beg some more and maybe I’ll give it to you.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly. Hadn’t she begged enough? It wasn’t like her to do so, but for him she wanted to. “Rowan, please. Please, I need you.”
“Not quite convinced sweetheart,” he whispered on her lips as he lowered himself. He captured her bottom lip between his teeth and pulled, tearing a moan out of her.
“Rowan, please, please,” she breathed when his hand grabbed her breast. “I need you to fuck me, I want you so much.”
He growled and kissed her, both of them moaning as they finally took that step. She loved kissing him, loved the way his tongue teased her lips before she let him in, and loved how hungry he was for her.
Her hands grabbed his shoulders, not waiting before she undid the button of his shirt before tearing it out of him.
He growled as he looked down at her body, kissing her neck and collarbone, nipping at her skin. She bit her lips, not risking making any noise.
His hands slid from her ribs to her back, and he undid her bra, throwing it away the moment it was undone.
“Gods, baby,” he breathed, lowering his head and grabbed a nipple between his teeth. “I love you tits, so pretty.”
She threw her head back and moaned at this, her core already clenching at his dirty words. He sucked on the peaked end of her breast before doing the same to the other, his fingers roughly playing with her breasts.
She loved his mouth, but she loved it even more when he released her nipple with a popping sound before kissing his way down her body.
He groaned when he saw her underwear, his finger slowly tracing her slit over the material of her clothing. Just this, the lightest touch, was too much for her. She moaned softly, hating herself for not being able to keep it in.
He chuckled and told her to raise her hips. She obeyed and Rowan pulled down her panties, leaving her naked and bare for him to see.
He parted her legs, and gods she blushed at how exposed she was. He looked at her with such an hungry look that it added to her blush. And Aelin Ashryver Galathynius never blushed. Unless this devilish man was around.
He used two fingers to part her lower lips, his head resting against one of her bent knees. “You’re so pretty, you know that, right?”
“Rowan…” Aelin urged him to do something, anything that would release some pressure.
“What is it, baby?” he asked, looking up at her flushed face. “You like hearing how pretty your pussy is? Is that it?”
“Oh my Gods,” she breathed, looking away. This man had the dirtiest mouth she ever heard.
He chuckled and kissed her hip bone. His middle finger traced around her clit, applying enough pressure for Aelin to cry out. He kept doing that, until he pressed on her bundle of nerves. Aelin had to bite her lips to avoid making too much noise.
He kissed his way up her body and captured her mouth in a dirty, messy kiss as he slid one finger inside her. She moaned into his mouth, grabbing his shoulders as she waved her hips, trying to get more.
Rowan chuckled at her eagerness but gave in, entering her with two fingers and curling them just the right way. He swallowed her moans as he thrusted his fingers in her, sending bolts of pleasure through her body.
“Ro,” she breathed, eyes closed.
“Come for me, baby,” Rowan encouraged her.
His fingers kept hitting that place deep in her, and she hit her climax when she opened her eyes to find Rowan’s eyes fixed on her, drinking in the sight of her body.
Rowan’s hand was still between her pressed together legs, and he was kissing her shoulders when she came down from her high.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. She doubted that. Not when she was climaxing. “I mean it. I could spend my days admiring you.”
She swallowed, “Why don’t you do something more useful than watching?”
He grinned at her, kissing the tip of her nose. “Such an impatient little thing,” he breathed when he settled on top of her. “Maybe I’m sleepy. We should sleep, don’t you think?”
“Don’t you dare,” Aelin gasped, taking his head between both hands and kissing him. He opened his mouth instantly, letting her in.
They both moaned at the taste of each other, Aelin’s legs wrapped around his waist, forcing his hardness to collide with her softness.
She moaned at the contact, rolling her hips and grinding against his erection. She was blind in need, the only thing she was aware of was wanting more and more and always more.
Rowan got rid of his pants and underwear quickly, leaving them skin to skin. He was so beautiful, Aelin marvelled. She never understood how men could be beautiful before she met him.
It was a shame he had to wear clothes all day, because it’d be a blessing for everyone if he could show that glorious body around. Though, Aelin thought, she’d rip to shreds anyone who laid eyes on him. Hers. He was hers, she didn’t care about anything else.
She wrapped her hand around his cock, causing him to curse loudly as she pumped him. He stretched to open the drawer of his nightstand and grabbed a condom.
He kneeled between her parted legs, opening the condom package and never broke eye contact as he put the condom on.
He grabbed her thigh and raised it to his waist as he laid over her, one hand holding himself to avoid crushing her.
He grabbed his shaft and teased her entrance without ever sinking in. She rolled her hips, trying to get him where she wanted him.
“Tell me how much you want it,” Rowan breathed into her ear, kissing the skin under her ear. “Tell me, Aelin, and it’s yours.”
“Fuck me,” she gasped when he entered her a little, just his tip, before pulling back. “Fuck me, Rowan, please. I need your cock,” she wasn’t feeling shy about her words anymore. She just wanted him.
He groaned, capturing her lips in a kiss and entering her. She gasped, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as he filled her.
She forgot how full he made her feel, how delicious the stretch of his cock made her feel. She was already pulsing around him, and he growled with his head buried between her neck and shoulder.
Her nails were clawing at his back when he pulled out and pushed in, and then repeated the action over and over again.
It was so much. He was so much. She couldn’t bite her lips anymore, her mouth open as he pounded into her. His hand came onto her mouth, blocking any noises.
“You’re so good,” Rowan moaned into her ear. “Fuck, Aelin, so tight.”
Her cunt was pulsing around him, and it got worse when his fingers pressed on her clit. She came then, his praises felt so good.
She was still coming as Rowan kept thrusting in her, prolonging her orgasm. His fingers still played at her clit, pinching and pressing on it.
“Good girl,” he panted, and he was close to his own orgasm. She felt it. “Gods, such a good cunt, Aelin.”
“Rowan,” she cried out when he hit really deep in her, and her hips started rolling, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, “Fuck yourself on me. Good, such a good girl.”
His thrusts were sloppy, losing his rhythm. She captured his lips in a messy kiss, both of them panting into each other’s mouth. “Gods, Aelin, I’m gonna-”
He came then, and gods, the noises he made. Rowan wasn’t quiet, and the long groan he let out sent shivers down her spine and was almost enough to send her climaxing again.
He was still gasping when he pulled out, and she thought he’d join her for cuddles after he took off the condom, but he didn’t. No, instead he grabbed her legs and spread them, laying in between. And he buried his face between her thighs, licking a long strip of her sex.
She moaned, covering her own mouth as Rowan pushed two fingers inside her and fucked her with them, as his tongue and mouth were ravishing her bundle of nerves.
She gasped his name, and when his fingers curled just the right way, Aelin came. She orgasmed, not even feeling her own body as she felt waves and waves of pleasure hit her.
She was in Rowan’s arms when she came back to the world of the living. He was naked and sat her on one of the stools in his bathroom. He left her side for a second to start running water in the bathtub.
He kneeled in front of her, massaging her left leg. She was still shaking, the aftershock of her orgasm still rocking her world.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked softly.
She frowned, “No, of course you didn’t. Why?”
He parted her thighs and ran his fingers down three little finger shaped marks that were already bruising. She hadn’t even noticed, she told him so.
He nodded but didn’t seem convinced. She grabbed his hands, holding them close to her. “Hey, Ro,” she breathed, sitting at the edge of her seat. “You didn’t hurt me, I promise.”
“Would you tell me? If I was too rough?”
“You know I would,” she answered. “Why are you asking this? Is this something you’re scared of?”
He shrugged, turning to look at the bath and sliding his hands under her body and then placing her in the bathtub.
He sat behind her, and Aelin sighed in contentment as she was wrapped in the warmth of his arms and of the water.
“You did so good,” Rowan praised her, kissing her cheek.
She smiled, sinking deeper into his embrace. “Why were you scared of hurting me, Ro?”
He sighed, “You won’t let that go, will you?”
She smiled and shook her head. He chuckled, kissing the back of her head. “I just… I don’t want you to think I’m saying this to influence you or something.”
“Spill it out, buzzard.”
“I’m enjoy rough sex,” he said, chilling the bones in her body. “Like, tying a woman up, blindfolding her and doing whatever I want to her body kind of rough.”
Aelin swallowed, doing her best not to imagine herself in that position. Her mind was stronger than her will, though. And heat started to pool in her belly again. She grabbed Rowan’s hand as he kept speaking.
“Lyria wasn’t into it, which it’s more than fair and I never pressured her into doing things like that. But one day during sex, I don’t know how, but it got too much for her. I stopped right when she said something but the fact that I didn’t notice… Fuck, I never forgave myself for that incident, and I would never forgive myself if I hurt you.”
Her eyebrows were pinched together, and she turned her head to look at his beautiful face. “Is this why you were so adamant about me using that color code?” He nodded, and she sighed. “You can’t hate yourself for something you didn’t do on purpose. I’m sure she wasn’t even mad at you-”
“She was,” Rowan said. “For weeks.”
Aelin frowned, remembering him saying that if Lyria was alive she would blame him for her accident. She took a deep breath, “Is this something she did often?”
He shrugged, grabbing a loofah with soap in it and started washing her skin that wasn’t under water. “Only when I deserved it.”
“Not paying attention to something doesn’t deserve a weeks-long punishment.”
He shrugged again, “Can we not talk about this? Please?”
Aelin nodded when she heard how hesitant and vulnerable his voice was. He kissed her cheek and kept washing her. “I wouldn’t mind, you know,” she whispered. “If you didn’t hold back with me in bed.”
His body stiffened behind her. “You’re young.”
“And?”
“You said yourself you didn’t have a lot of experience. I don’t want to scare you away.”
She turned to look at him, “How about you let me decide that?”
He looked in her eyes, probably trying to find any hint of insecurity. He wouldn’t find anything. She wasn’t sure to like this, but she sure as hell wanted to try.
He sighed, kissing her neck. “Slowly, then. Alright?”
“Anything you want, buzzard.”
“This nickname will never go away, will it?”
She shook her head, grinning so damn hard. “Never.”
He captured her lips in a kiss. “I guess I just have to start thinking about one for you, hm?”
Hello! This is another quick update because I have another two weeks of exams and then my semester is over! I need to work so I won’t be able to update.
Warnings: NSFW, tad bit of angst | Word count: 4,600
It took her a few seconds to recall where she was when she opened her eyes. The bed was empty, a shame if anyone asked her. She smiled when she remembered how she fell asleep last night, how Rowan had thoroughly exhausted her because delicately laid her on his bed and wrapped her in his arms to fall asleep.
She didn’t feel out of place, though she really wished Rowan was there to help her wake up, to kiss her shoulder and neck and then cheek.
She wished she could steal one more moment in his warmth.
She got up quickly, too quickly considering it was fairly early in the morning, and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. She couldn’t help but chuckle when her stomach grumbled loudly at the smell in the air.
Rowan was in his kitchen, looking absolutely sinfully tempting as she cooked shirtless with gray sweatpants resting low on his hips.
So low that she couldn’t look away from that line of dark hairs that started at his navel and disappeared under his pants.
Her mouth watered at the sight of his abs. She never saw him that way before, she had only guessed what was under his clothes. Even that night in the closet she barely saw him, hidden by all their layers of clothes.
She crossed her legs to relieve some of the ache that took place between them as she stood, her shoulder resting against the wall and she watched him cook.
It didn’t take long for him to spot her, and he smiled warmly at her before his eyes traced her body over his shirt, he lingered on her legs.
He was shamelessly checking her out, and she couldn’t complain because she was doing the exact same thing.
“Good morning,” he spoke, his voice deep and rough. He mustn’t have woken up too long before her. “How did you sleep?”
“Amazing, you?”
“You snore,” he said.
She flipped him off, “I do not.”
He laughed, shaking his head.
Aelin walked to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist, the touch tentative. She didn’t really know where they stood and what they were, but the contact didn’t seem to bother him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her close to him as she flipped up the pancakes.
She kissed his shoulder, then his neck. His breathing hitched slightly, something she might not have noticed if she wasn’t so close to him.
She smirked, her fingers starting to trace small, random patterns on his waist and her lips delicately exploring the skin of his neck.
When she lowered a little, her mouth grazing his collar bone, Rowan’s hand on her shoulder tightened its grip.
She let her teeth brush his skin, her tongue licking there and there as she explored the upper part of his torso.
“Aelin,” he breathed.
She looked up at him, her eyes were innocent. “Yes?”
“Stop this,” he almost ordered her.
She bit her lip, keeping eye contact as she slid onto her knees before him, her hands wandering all over his torso.
She wanted to taste him ever since she met him, and had wanted him in her mouth for years now.
He was hard, something that sent jolts of pleasure into her body. She traced the shape of his member over his sweatpants, and Rowan grabbed the counter behind Aelin, trapping her. She liked it.
She let her lips kiss the skin just over his waistband, teasing him.
She looked up at him to find him already looking at her, his eyes so dark she wondered if there was still any hint of green.
She winked at him before laying a kiss right on the head of his sex, still over the clothes. She hated that, she wanted his skin and taste in her mouth. But she also enjoyed teasing him.
His breathing was ragged, “You don’t have to-”
She cut him off by palming him through his sweatpants and she decided she had enough. She tugged them down, delighted to see he hadn’t been wearing underwear.
She saw the precum on the head of his cock and she had to lick it, moaning at the hint of his taste. He cursed, one of his hands was holding her shoulder firmly.
“You like that, Aelin? You like being on your knees for me?”
She nodded but never looked away from him. He was big, so much that she was sure she couldn’t fit all of him in her mouth.
But she’d try her best. She gave him kitten lick to his tip and then his length. He cursed, doing a much better job than she did yesterday at staying quiet.
Her hand was wrapped around his base while her other one held herself on his thigh. And then, she took the head in her mouth.
She loved doing this, she loved having men in her mouth. But she found out she loved it even more when it was Rowan. He wasn’t shy, his pleasure written all over his face.
She sucked on his head, her tongue teasing the slit of his cock. He groaned, and when she looked up at him she felt herself clench around nothing at his face.
He was so beautiful with his eyes clenched, his lower lip between his teeth. She took more of him, opening her mouth and throat to let him in.
She tried to get everything in her, her eyes watering as he hit the back of her throat.
“Fuck!”
He let go of her shoulder and brushed her hair out of her face, “You’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby.”
She closed her eyes, forcing him a little deeper into her throat. He gripped her hair, hard. She adored it, adored feeling him deep inside of her throat.
She pulled back when it was too much, trying to get her breathing back to normal while she stroked him. She kissed his thigh before going back at it, wrapping her lips around him. She stayed still, looking up at him. His eyes darkened when he understood what she wanted. “You want me to fuck your mouth?”
She hummed around him, making him curse. He started thrusting in her mouth. She took his balls in hand, rolling them. His breathing hitched as he started being more confident with his thrust, but she still felt like he was holding back.
I’m not going to break, her eyes told him.
His hand pulled at her hair before he did just what she fantasized about. He fucked her mouth, using her to reach his peak of pleasure.
She tried to slide a hand between her thighs but whined at the contact. Rowan went hard on her yesterday, she was still too sensitive to touch herself. Which was a damn shame because having him in her mouth, thrusting and hitting the back of her throat every time had her wet.
She grabbed her breast under her shirt, pulling at her nipples to try to relieve some of the tension in her body. Rowan saw that, and a deep growl left his lips. “You like that, Aelin? You like sucking me off?”
She wouldn’t pull back to speak so she let her eyes do the job for her, I do.
“Fuck, baby. Such a good mouth.”
His thrusts were erratic, and she knew he was close. She tentatively squeezed his balls harder, her teeth grazing his member.
He couldn’t contain the loud moan that left his lips. “Aelin, I’m so close.”
He gave her the opportunity to pull back. She wouldn’t. Instead, she bobbed her head and took him deep in her throat, her muscles squeezing him.
He came with groans and moans, the taste of his release was strong in her mouth. He pulled out of her mouth, and she looked up at him as she swallowed his seed. His eyes rolled in the back of his head.
She wanted to do it again, and again, and again. But Rowan forced her to stand and kissed her senseless, his lips so rough and yet soft on her mouth.
She opened her mouth, and couldn’t help but moan at how the taste of himself didn’t bother him. Chaol refused to kiss her after she blew him.
The thought of her ex-boyfriend faded away quickly when his hands grabbed her hips, slowly raising her shirt. She stopped him, already breathless. “Ro, don’t, please.”
He stopped, “Are you alright?”
She blushed as she admitted, “I’m a little… sore.”
He grinned at this, kissing her. “You did amazing, princess.”
She gave him another kiss, looking behind her. The pancakes were burned, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. Rowan did, too. His head fell on her shoulder and they laughed.
He kissed her shoulder, looking at the clock on the wall. “I need to wake her up. There’s school, soon.”
She forgot that this wasn’t a weekend. Aelin had class today. She didn’t want to go, she wanted to stay safe in this house. She cried, “I don’t want to go.”
He kissed her head, pulling his pants back on. “You’ll be able to rest soon.”
“Not with the exams.”
He smiled sadly, “I know. I’m sorry, but you’ll be grateful for it at the end of the semester.”
She rolled her eyes. Maybe she would, but for now, she hated all of her teachers. She was still debating whether or not she included the man in front of her.
“Maybe I should just skip today.”
He frowned, “I’m not sure your anatomy professor would enjoy this.”
She smirked, “Yes, well. If he is so against it, let him punish me.”
Rowan’s eyes darkened once more and she was about to tell him she didn’t care if it hurt, she wanted him to fuck her right now on that counter.
“DADA!” Helia screamed from upstairs, a sign that she woke up. He quickly kissed the side of her mouth and excused himself.
Aelin set the table for the three of them. The breakfast was probably for Helia but she was hungry, so she would steal some of the food from the little girl.
It took quite some time for her to find her way into the kitchen, but when the father-daughter duo came down the stairs she was fairly sure she now knew where the plates and glasses were placed.
Helia waved at Aelin, sitting at a children’s chair at the table and Rowan replaced her closer to the table. He kissed the top of Aelin’s head and told her to sit while he threw away the burned pancakes and prepared more.
Helia turned on the TV to watch some cartoons, and Aelin was on the verge of tears as she experienced what happened in the morning with a normal family.
No parent was leaving quickly for work or hadn't even come home from work. Her parents never cooked for her, it was always the maids or her nannies.
She wanted to stay here forever.
—
Her day barely started and yet, Aelin was already tired. She didn’t get much sleep last night, not when she kept remembering how Rowan had treated her the day before. And how she thanked him yesterday morning.
Sitting in his class yesterday was hard. She kept having flashes of his head between her thighs, of how he looked at her when she had his cock in her mouth just a few hours before.
Her cheeks flushed in the metro when her mind kept reminding her of it.
When she walked into the hospital she was scowling at herself. She was here to work, and it wasn’t like school where they didn’t have to interact directly.
Many people were around and still, Aelin sometimes felt like it was just the two of them. She couldn’t act like he was more than her professor, not with so many people around.
No thoughts about sex. No thoughts about kissing him or how normal it had felt to have breakfast and leave in the same car with him and his daughter.
She knocked on Rowan’s door with no answer. She frowned, looking at her watch. She was late, as she always was. But Rowan was never late, and his office was empty.
She wasn’t so late that he would have left his office without her, especially not when he insisted that she come in consultation with him today.
He wanted to show her the other side of his job. He spent more time in consultation than in the OR, and still, that was the forgotten part of this job.
Should she text him? Technically she got his phone number for these specific kinds of situations, and they were way past the uncertainty. Still, she didn’t know if she should text him.
They both liked to ignore who and what he was to her outside of their bubble, and what if someone else had his phone? She knew that her message would be innocent, but she didn’t like the risk of being caught.
She decided that she was going mad and texted him, asking him where he was.
“Can I help you?”
Aelin turned her head to the right, finding a tall, blonde man standing beside her. He had his arms crossed, highlighting the curve of his muscles.
His hair was as long as hers, though his was wavy. He had two small scars on each of his cheeks, and she didn’t pay them any attention.
It wasn’t possible with the smirk he was flashing her. He was beautiful, truly. From his dark blue scrubs, Aelin knew he was a surgeon.
“I should be the one asking you this,” she replied, her voice in the same sweet tone. “Why did you interrupt me?”
His smirk deepened, “You look lost, that's all.”
“Well, I’m not.”
He threw a glance at Rowan’s door before saying, “Consults are one level lower. I could guide you there.”
It was her turn to cross her arms, turning to face him. “Do you usually hit on patients?”
“Only you, darling,”
“Do you have any idea who I am?” She didn’t like to play this card but… She looked enough like her mother for everyone to know who she was.
He shook his head, still flashing her a seductive smile. She might have played into his game if it wasn’t for Rowan and this thing between them. “Hopefully I could call you mine for a few hours.”
She frowned, ready to snap something at him when Rowan’s voice came from behind her. “Miss Ashryver Galathynius.”
The man’s eyes widened a little at her name and she couldn’t help but chuckle. Rowan was glaring at the man as he said, “Fenrys.”
It took her a second but she remembered. Fenrys Moonbeam. One of the twin friends of Rowan, chief of peds. One of his friends had just hit on her. She wanted to laugh.
“Rowan,” Fenrys replied, quite oblivious to that sparkle of anger Aelin saw in Rowan’s eyes.
“Professor,” Aelin greeted with an inclination of her head.
“Yo-You’re the chief’s daughter?” Fenrys asked.
She smiled sweetly at him, “I sure hope your… methods are not popular in this hospital, Doctor Moonbeam.”
Fenrys winced at Rowan and Aelin held in her laugh. It wasn’t mean of him, she just enjoyed making people uncomfortable.
Rowan ignored him and held her light blue scrubs. She raised an eyebrow and looked up into her professor’s eyes.
“I’m afraid blue isn’t my color.”
The corner of his lips twitched but he kept his face unreadable as he snapped at her, surprising her. “You’re even lower than an intern in the natural order in this hospital, Miss Ashryver Galathynius. So take this or leave and stop wasting my time.”
Her eyes widened, and he didn’t let her say anything before he added, “Two minutes, Galathynius. You can change there.” He nodded toward a restroom.
She grabbed the clothes out of his hands and went there and changed, her movements rushed by hunger. She went to open the door, her normal clothes in her hands. She was pushed back into the bathroom and someone entered, closing the door behind them. She barely had time to see Rowan before he grabbed her face and kissed her.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed onto her mouth. “I had to treat you like every student. I’m not exactly known for my kindness around here.”
She kissed him back, her teeth scratching his lips. “You were awfully mean.”
That wasn’t true. He’d been rude at worst, but Aelin always loved the dramatics.
He groaned on her lips, grabbing her lips and pressing her close to him. It was good to know he was as desperate to have her as she was. “What could I do to be forgiven?”
She hummed, throwing her head back and letting Rowan kiss her neck as his hands slid to her backside and grabbed her there.
She moaned into his mouth, pulling roughly on his hair. “Maybe I should punish you, you don’t deserve to touch me.”
He groaned, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, half expecting him to fuck her right there instead.
But he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. They were both breathless, and Aelin rose on her toes to kiss him quickly.
“We’re late,” he said.
She nodded, “I know.”
“I missed you in my bed last night.”
This brought a smile to her face. “You could take me back to yours tonight.”
His smile turned to a wince and Aelin’s entire mood changed in a second. Her body stiffened, and Rowan explained. “I’d love to. I really do, Aelin. But Helia…”
Aelin understood, nodding to him.
“She asks questions about you, and about us. I barely know the answers myself, I don’t want her to be confused. She’s my priority. Maybe we should stick to daytime visits for a while? I’d like for you two to get to know each other.”
Aelin smiled brightly. “I love this idea.”
He returned her smile. “We need to go.”
She nodded.
“Go first, and wait for me by the elevator. I’ll join you in two minutes.”
The hall was quite empty so Aelin wondered why he needed two minutes. She asked so.
“I can’t have anyone seeing us,” he explained. “And, well…” he looked down at his crotch and Aelin bit her lips to avoid laughing. She kissed his cheek and left, making sure no one saw her doing so.
—-
Rowan was clearly treating his patients differently than his students. She supposed it was a good thing, no one would want an asshole to get into their brain.
Rowan smiled warmly at the redhead as he greeted her. “I’m not happy to see you here, Ansel.”
Ansel waved at Rowan dramatically. “I just missed you so much, Whitethorn.”
He rolled his eyes but sat on one of the stools, facing Ansel who was sitting on the edge of a hospital bed. Aelin stayed at the entrance of the room, observing this interaction.
“Sorry for being late, I was in surgery.”
“It’s alright, Doc. I know how busy you are.”
He nodded in thanks and said, “This is Miss Ashryver Galathynius. She is a student and if you’re okay with it, she’ll stay here today.”
Ansel turned to face Aelin and she was impressed with the redhead’s beautiful features. Ansel nodded, “I’m not calling you all these names, though. It’s way too long. You’re AG now.”
Aelin chuckled and nodded, “More than fine by me.”
“Alright, Doc. What do we have here?”
Rowan took off scans from the table and placed them on the wall. He switched on the light of that wall so they could see what was on the scan.
Aelin’s heart sank when she saw what was in the imagery. There were three tiny rumors in the frontal lobe. Rowan’s face was unreadable, and she wished to know if he knew about this before he entered the room.
They seemed close, she doubted he called every patient by their first name.
Ansel’s face fell for a second before it was brightened once more by a smile. “It’s back.”
“It is,” Rowan answered. He threw a look at Aelin and explained. “Ansel already had three surgeries in this hospital to take them off. She was my first solo patient.”
Aelin’s eyes were threatening to spill tears but she just nodded.
“There are only three this time, isn’t it a good thing?”
Rowan sighed, “It’s probably because we have more regular scans. That’s the reason why you come here every month, so we could be early on it.”
“Oh,” she said. “Okay, what’s the plan then?”
“Where’s your mom, Ansel?”
She waved the question away, “I’m an adult now, she doesn’t need to be here anymore. Or so she says.”
Rowan apologized, and Ansel told him it was okay.
“We can try chemo again-”
“No more chemo,” Ansel snapped, so at odds with the way she spoke before. “I’m done with this. I told you so last time.”
Rowan nodded, “I know, but it could help.”
“Or I could spend my last weeks wishing I was dead. No chemo, Doctor. That’s it.”
“Alright, there is still surgery.”
“Now we’re speaking.”
“You know the risks.”
“That I do, Captain. I trust you.”
He gave her a small smile. Something flashed in her eyes before she gasped, “Wait! Can I do something I saw on TV?”
He gave her a weird look but said, “I couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to.”
She grinned and turned to Aelin. “AG, what are the symptoms of my cancer?”
She swallowed but answered, “Tumors in the frontal lobe can cause behavioral and emotional changes; impaired judgment, motivation or inhibition; impaired sense of smell or vision loss; paralysis on one side of the body or even reduced mental abilities and memory loss.”
Ansel nodded appreciatively. “That one’s good, Whitethorn. Why are you always complaining about students?”
He rolled his eyes, “That wasn’t half bad, I agree. And well over what she should have learned by now.”
Aelin smiled but it fell quickly as Ansel and Rowan went back to discussing what course of action they would take. She listened, taking mental notes of things she didn’t know to call him later.
Rowan excused himself for a minute for a phone call, and Aelin supposed it was about Helia. He wouldn’t interrupt a conversation if it wasn’t for her. Aelin only hoped that the little girl was fine.
“What year of med school are you in?” Ansel asked.
“First.”
She frowned, “I never heard of first-year students assisting doctors.”
Aelin winced but she decided to explain, “My father is the chief of surgery. This is propaganda for me to choose surgery at the end of the road.”
“Damn,” Ansel said. “At least daddy blessed you with a sexy as hell doctor. You could be following one of the old ones.”
Aelin burst out laughing, and so did Ansel. The redhead kept going, “What? That’s true!”
Aelin raised her hands as a sign of innocence. “Nothing will leave my lips.”
“No need to,” Ansel said. “That man has us all on our knees.”
She was right, sometimes more literally than others.
Aelin knew Rowan was attractive. She liked being his secret. He wasn’t seeing anyone else, and while they weren’t dating, Aelin knew she was the only one for him for now. It made her a little proud.
—
“Are you alright?” Rowan asked after they left Ansel. They were walking in the hall, side by side, and yet not a single inch of their skins were touching. No matter how much she wanted to.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “That was just a lot. I feel bad for her.”
“I do, too. She is strong, I only saw her cry once.”
“Did you know? You didn’t look surprised.”
He nodded, “Yeah, we got her scans back yesterday. We knew there was a possibility for the cancer to come back but it’s always hard to take it once it’s actually there.”
“It must be hard for you, too. You two seem close.”
He shrugged, “That’s how my job is, you know. I met her right when my marriage started to fall apart, and she was so happy that… I don’t know. It rubbed on me a little when she was around. Some patients mark you more than other.”
“Do you want coffee?” Aelin asked quietly. “We could drink it in your office.”
He nodded, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
She held back her smile. She liked this idea. “Was everything okay with He-”
“Aelin!”
Dorian’s voice echoed from behind her. In a reflex Aelin jumped a little away from Rowan. She turned around and smiled warmly at her friend. “Hey.”
In true Dorian fashion, he hugged her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “How’s my lovely girlfriend going?”
Aelin threw an alarmed look at Rowan who was clenching his jaw, his eyes glaring dagger at Dorian’s back. This was strangely familiar to the look he threw Dr. Moonbeam earlier. Of course, Dorian chose his day to keep going with that fake-dating thing.
Dorian’s eyes were wide when he let go of her and saw Rowan stand right there. “I’m sorry, Dr. Whitethorn. I-I didn’t see you there.”
“Nice to see you again, Havillard.”
Dorian winced and Aelin asked, “Why are you there?”
He sighed dramatically, “I was just let go. I’m exhausted.”
“McBastard annoying you again?”
Dorian coughed, looking at Rowan as for reminding her who was in their company. Ironic considering he was the one who didn’t see him.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “McBastard? Who’s that”
She winced, “No one.”
“I already know, so just answer.”
“Why asking, then?”
“To damn you.”
She rolled her eyes. She’d have annoyed him a little more if it wasn’t for the audience.
“He let me go, yeah. He was paged by Dr. Hamel. Are you done for the day?” Dorian asked. “I could drive you back home.”
“No, I-”
“Yes, we are,” Rowan said.
Aelin looked at him with a surprised look. She looked at Dorian and said while she gestured at her clothes, “I’ll get my clothes in Dr. whitethorn’s office. We meet in the parking lot?”
Dorian nodded and kissed her cheek affectionately before leaving. She turned to Rowan and asked quietly, “Are you mad at me? Have I done something?”
He took a deep breath, his hand slightly shaking. “No- No you didn’t. I just want to get back home quickly, after all. Helia had a little accident and her grandparents picked her up from daycare.”
“Oh, okay. It’s just that… The timing, you know.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Why did he refer to you as his girlfriend?”
She let out a shaky breath, “Because of his father. He’s… Mean, to Dorian. And he’s leaving him alone a little more now that he thinks Dorian is dating his chief’s daughter. Everything is platonic between us, I swear.”
“That didn’t look platonic,” Rowan argued.
She rubbed her eyes, tiredness taking over her body. “Dorian is very touchy, but he’s that way with everyone. I promise, Rowan, there’s nothing more than a friendship that I hold dear to my heart.”
He nodded, letting out a long breath. “I’m sorry, it’s just-”
“I know,” she answered because she did. Lyria had cheated on him, of course, it caused him insecurities. She should have known, and she should have rejected Dorian’s physical contact.
“Go with him, we’ll get that coffee soon, alright? We’re both tired, and it’s good for you to spend some time outside of studying with your friends.”
“But you’re not mad?”
He shook his head, “I’m not. I swear.”
She smiled, happy that things were settled. She didn’t want any problem between them, “Alright. But call me?”
an: I haven't changed too much, so if you've read the original prologue you'll recognize most of this, but the few changes I did make are important so I felt like reposting it was worth the effort.
That had been FBI Agent Rowan Whitethorn’s first thought about Celaena Sardothien.
She was beautiful, and she knew it.
That was his second thought. He could tell from the singular picture they had up on the board. From the way she had her arms wrapped around her elbows, showing off her collarbones and the slight dip of her cleavage in those dresses she always wore; the way her chin was tilted slightly down and to the side, her rosy lips curled in a little smirk, like she was trying to look innocent while also making you imagine all the dirty things she could do to you; from the way her golden blue eyes glinted with a promise of something more, whatever that more may be.
Yes, he couldn’t deny that she was one of the most gorgeous women he’d had the pleasure of seeing, but if anything, that just made her more dangerous.
Because from what he knew of Celaena Sardothien, which wasn’t much, she used her beauty like a spider used a web. She waited until some unsuspecting gentleman got a little too close, and then watched as they got stuck in her trap.
But Rowan couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t her looks that made her who she was, it was the brain behind those alluring eyes, the one that set up these frauds and these thefts in a way that left them absolutely nothing to work with. It was infuriating, and while there was a small part of him that admired her, a larger part was pissed off at the nerve of her to commit all these crimes. What kind of lowlife spent their life profiting off of other people?
It was ridiculous, and - he wouldn’t hesitate to say - pathetic.
Unfortunately, his coworkers didn’t all think so, with one glaring example. Fenrys Moonbeam was an interesting case, an agent that didn’t really have the wherewithal to be one. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do his job, he just did it with a sort of lightness and dismissal that frustrated Rowan, and he treated this case with that same flightiness as always.
He was an admirer of Celaena Sardothien, or an admirer of her assets more like it, so he didn’t take any criticism of her as seriously as he should. Celaena was a thief, and Rowan was perfectly willing to admit it, which made him the perfect candidate for the interview they were about to do.
Archer Finn was in their field office, having reported his bank account “hacked”, but Rowan was pretty sure he was another victim of Sardothien. She was surprisingly inactive on social media, despite having millions of followers, but after talking to Finn for five minutes, he’d found out he’d been hanging around Sardothien for the past few months.
That was always the pattern. She found someone new, kept them around, and then poof they were gone and so was their money.
Rowan just didn’t know how. But this was his case. He was determined to solve it no matter how long it took, or what he had to do to get there. From the first time it’d been brought to his attention, he’d been caught in her web himself almost, but in a different way. He wasn’t prey, he was the gardener trying to get the rotting predator out of his own backyard.
And maybe Archer Finn could help.
------
“I’m telling you!,” Finn shouted in exasperation, frustrated at the agents, “I don’t know how my money is gone, but it is! It was there last week, and then this week my account was drained!”
Rowan kept his calm, flipping through his file folder to pull out the picture they had of Sardothien and Finn, one of the only they’d been able to find. He slid it across the table to sit in front of the other man, leaning back in his chair.
The interrogation room they were in was barely an interrogation room at all. It was cushier, with nice chairs and a nice table, with glass walls that made it look more like an office than a jail cell. It was for witnesses that came in of their own free will, for victims, even if they were still fishing for information. Because Finn may have been stolen from, but something locked inside his head could be the key to convincing everyone else in the damned field office that this was worth something.
“Why don’t you tell us about her?” He said, keeping his cool. Lorcan huffed next to him. He wasn’t convinced that the girl was the one behind all of this, sure that her cushy upbringing and obvious wealth meant she didn’t have the grit to scam anyone for even more money. All bullshit hypothetical in his opinion; they barely knew anything about her upbringing, and who says she hadn’t been running this scheme from the beginning?
“What about her?” Archer asked defensively, “She doesn’t have anything to do with this.” Rowan wasn’t dissuaded.
“When did you first meet Ms. Sardothien?” He asked diplomatically, opening the file to a notes page.
“About four months ago,” Finn huffed, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms.
“And when would you say your relationship began?” Rowan grabbed his pen, jotting down what the man was saying.
“About a month after that,” he answered, “what does this have to do with anything?”
“Great question,” Lorcan muttered, but Rowan didn’t stop.
“When did Ms. Sardothien end your relationship?” He asked, eyes dropping down to the picture of the two of them. Archer and Celaena were walking down the street together, a few months before when the winter season was still going strong. Her bundled up arms were wrapped with his, and she was looking up at him with what seemed like an adoring expression. But Rowan could see the conniving nature behind the charm.
Finn frowned, scoffing at the question. “I broke up with her for your information, she’s fucking crazy!” He shouted, seemingly exasperated. “Yeah, she’s pretty of course, and has a great body, but she’s psycho! Not worth the trouble.”
“When did you end the relationship then?” Rowan interrupted, not in the mood to listen to this man’s “advice”.
“Saturday,” he answered, and Rowan tried to temper his triumphant smile. Lorcan’s brows shot up. But Archer kept going. “She threw my fucking phone into a fountain, I mean who does that?” He threw up his hands, ignoring what was happening to the cops in front of him. “Apparently I wasn’t spending enough ‘time with her’, whatever the hell that means, I -”
“And your reported ‘theft’ was the Sunday after that, wasn’t it?” Rowan interrupted, writing down the date hurriedly. He watched Archer’s face turn from anger, to confusion, to utter bewilderment.
“Yeah, but-”
“I think that’s all I need to hear right now,” Rowan said, a satisfied smile as he stood up, collecting everything in his file and pushing his chair back under the table. Lorcan followed suit, albeit a little more slowly. He trailed behind him as Rowan left the room, the door falling shut behind him as Rowan turned and said -
“I want to go undercover.”
-------
“Are you sure about this, Whitethorn?” Fenrys asked, tapping his pencil against the conference room table as they waited for the director of the field office, Maeve, to walk in. Rowan was going to give his proposal on why he thought he needed to go undercover, why he thought this whole string of robberies was all linked back to one person. Celaena Sardothien.
He loosed a breath as the door opened, as Maeve waltzed in, a sour but contemplative expression already on her face. Rowan stood up, about to open his mouth, but she lifted a hand, cutting him off as she walked over to the head of the table and sat down.
“I already know, Whitethorn,” she said tensely, “Don’t even bother.”
He shot a glare over to Lorcan, who didn’t look apologetic in the slightest. He hadn’t hid his disapproval over Rowan’s plan.
“So?” He asked, looking back at his boss. “Will you approve it?” He regretted his pushy tone immediately, with the scathing glare he got from Maeve.
“If I did, what makes you think you’re the best option?” She questioned, her head tilted. “I could easily send Fenrys instead.” Panic shot through him, and he leaned forward, bracing his arms against the desk. That panic turned to annoyance as Fenrys winked at him, smirking at the thought of messing with him.
“This is my case,” he insisted, “I’ve been following it from the beginning.” If Moonbeam was in charge… he’d sooner fuck Sardothien than arrest her. No, Rowan couldn’t have that happen. Not after all this time finding leads and gathering enough proof to make this damn proposal. “I’ve found all of the proof and all of the leads, and I -”
“What proof?” Maeve said as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen any come across my desk.”
“What about Archer Finn’s testimony?” Rowan asked and she scoffed. The rest of his team just watched their exchange like it was a tennis match: back and forth, back and forth.
“Archer Finn is a fool,” she replied, drumming her dark purple painted nails across the lacquered conference table. Outside the glass walls, the rest of the field office bustled around like it was a normal day, when it was anything but for him. “And besides, his testimony doesn’t paint a picture of the most conniving criminal.”
No, she wasn’t wrong. Even after they’d left him in the room earlier, he’d apparently kept complaining to other agents about her, about how possessive and how desperate and how needy she was. According to him, she was a jealous, psycho, ditzy girlfriend, not a criminal mastermind.
But wouldn’t that be exactly what she wanted people to think? Rowan knew there had to be more.
Clenching his jaw, he reached down and rushed through the file he had on the table in front of him, removing a handful of photographs.
“Then what about Dorian Havilliard?” He placed his picture down. “And Chaol Westfall?” Another picture. “And Tern Nelson?” Fenrys’ brows were through the roof, Lorcan’s were furrowed as much as humanly possible, and Maeve’s - well her face was perfectly blank. This was unsanctioned research he’d done, trying to find the link, and it could backfire on him if Maeve decided it was insubordination. “They’ve all reported the same thing: they break it off and then they’re money is gone. Maybe not the day after, but within the same month period.”
But it was worth the risk.
“Just trust me on this one,” he almost pleaded, looking directly at Maeve. “I know what I’m doing, and if nothing comes of it, then I’ll take whatever repercussions I deserve.” A hush fell over the room, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall, as if an omen signalling his demise. Because if this failed, if he wasted this much time and bureau resource’s - then he would certainly be fired.
Maeve was unreadable as Rowan waited desperately for an answer. A few moments went by, and then she was smiling. A sardonic smile, not one of pure joy. No, she didn’t feel joy.
“Well on your own head be it,” she said, and despite the implication of the words, he smiled too.
Here was his chance, and he was determined not to waste it. That spider was finally going to meet her match.
The clicks of the cameras were almost overwhelming, the flashing lights of the paparazzi could have been blinding, should’ve been blinding. But Aelin wasn’t overwhelmed, she wasn’t scared of the attention, she craved it. She craved all the eyes on her, all the ears clambering to listen to her music, all the mouths begging her to tell them more.
And as she stepped out of the limousine, her dress swinging around her legs, she put on a wide smile, waving at the crowd. She’d taken a long time to pick the perfect outfit for the Grammys, but settled on a loose, black beaded dress, hanging just around her body to give the suggestion of curves without being glued to her skin. Paired with a pair of heeled boots and feathers tied up in her hair, she looked the equal mix of glamorous and free.
“Aelin! Aelin!” She heard shouted at her as she left the car, beginning the walk down the famous red carpet toward the theater. Other stars were circling around her as well, at various stages of publicity. Some were merely taking photos, others were talking to interviewers, or even ignoring them all, continuing on their way toward the doors at the end.
Though she wasn’t quite as experienced as some of the other artists, Aelin acted like she was, exuding the confidence that some of them lacked. Step by step she strutted down the carpet, unaccompanied, alone, unattached. Her boyfriend couldn’t make it this evening, but it was okay. This was her night, her time to shine. Even if she didn’t win the awards she was nominated for, who gave a fuck?
Though, who was she kidding? She was going to win.
She’d already won Best New Artist the year before, officially the youngest person in history to have, at the young age of 21. Before her, the record had been 26, only a few years before her at the 10th annual Grammys, but she’d swept it away easily. Along with sweeping the song of the year, and the best pop album of the year, though she’d scoffed at the classification.
She’d been nominated for best album overall, but hadn’t quite snatched it. Aelin was hoping this year she would.
The crowd seemed to think so as well.
“Aelin!” One young journalist shouted at her, and Aelin slowed to a stop, deigning to pause for her questions. Hey, her music catapulted her here, but the publicity certainly didn’t hurt. Not that she really needed it with how good her second album’s sales had been.
It’d set a record with first week sales, something she and Lysandra had been particularly excited about. Despite her confidence, Aelin had been a bit nervous about the public reception of her sophomore album, lovingly called Ultraviolence, but Lysandra had assured her it’d be even better than her first. And she’d been proven right.
“How are you feeling this evening?” The journalist asked, almost shouting to be heard over the general clamber. “How does it feel to go up against all of these amazing artists? Anyone you’re particularly worried about?”
Aelin put on a dazzling smile, flicking one of the strands of feathers over her shoulder. “I’m not worried. I’m confident in the music that I produced, and if the recording academy doesn’t see it, then that’s their loss, not mine.”
The journalist laughed, a light, tinkling sound that started off joyful and then morphed into something darker, something twisted. Aelin’s smile fell, her brows furrowing as her ears began to ring.
“And how would the recording academy feel knowing you have no third album coming?”
And the world fell from under her feet.
“What?” She asked, but her voice swirled around her in a cloud of noise. Everything became hazy, the world mixing into a storm of colors, and Aelin stumbled back, shaking her head faster and faster.
“You’re failing, Aelin,” the fake journalist’s suddenly deep voice boomed in her ears. “You’re a failure.”
Aelin stumbled again and then she was-
falling…
Falling…
Falling…
———-
She woke with a start, her nightgown stuck to her skin with sweat as she panted. Her curtain bangs were plastered to her face, her hair wrapped around her neck like a noose as she fought for air.
Aelin closed her eyes for a second before snapping them open, trying to focus on one thing in her bedroom, choosing the mirror across from her, her reflection wavy from the shape of it.
She stared at that as she willed herself to calm down, eventually sitting all the way up and pulling her hair away from her skin. It was dark in her room, and pitch black outside, the hour still way too early to even contemplate being awake.
But - she was now. So she stood up out of bed, snatching a claw clip from her nightstand to pull her sweaty hair up as she headed for the notebook sitting on her dresser, snatching it and a pen before practically collapsing onto the floor, the light carpet soft beneath her legs.
She didn’t even bother turning on a light as she hurriedly opened to a free page, staring intently at the paper. She was breathing heavily, her hand shaking as she brought it down to the page, willing the words to come. They were in there, somewhere.
But they wouldn’t come.
“Godsdamnit!” Aelin shouted, anguished, throwing the pen across the room. She watched as it hit the wall and clattered to the floor, leaving her breathing as the only sound in the apartment.
She hadn’t written a single song. She hadn’t written a single lyric since the release of her second album. Not one.
She’d been lying, she’d been hiding this absolute failure, but there would come a time when her luck would run out.
She couldn’t let the world know, she couldn’t. Not after coming so far.
From signing to a record label and releasing her first album at the young age of 20, to becoming a Grammy winner and an established name in the industry with her second album by the age of 22, how in the hell was she supposed to let that go?
She angrily wiped at her face, slamming the notebook closed and pushing herself to a stand. She’d worry about this in the morning.
——-
“So, are you ready for the Grammys?” Lysandra asked her, leaning back in her seat as she took a sip of her brightly colored smoothie. Aelin smiled confidently, her sunglasses hiding her dead eyes as she answered.
“Are the Grammys ready for me?” She said, with an air of bravado, sipping on her own pink smoothie. There were strawberries, pineapples, some sort of protein energy boost, she didn’t know honestly. And she didn’t really care. It tasted good, that’s all that mattered.
Her best friend laughed at the words, only a bit louder than the general clamber of the cafe around them. It was a busy place, right on the beach, but Aelin loved the chaos. Especially when people came up and asked for her autograph, picking her out from the crowd.
Her bodyguard, sitting at the table behind her, absolutely hated it, but she loved the popularity.
It boosted her more than any drug ever could, more than this stupid power smoothie. Every time someone came up to her, begging for an autograph, it reminded her that people still liked her, people still liked her music. Aelin was constantly in a battle between her confidence, and the secret that ate at her, and her fans fed the side she wanted to win.
“Do you have your dress ready to go?” Lysandra asked, her brow raised, and Aelin hummed in confirmation, resting her sunglasses on her head. They’d stayed close friends throughout her catapult to fame, and the brunette had taken it upon herself to become Aelin’s de facto manager.
Aelin appreciated it, the other girl had always been more organized than her, it was nice to have someone to keep her in line. She wrote the music, and Lysandra made sure she was put together enough to share that music with the world.
Speaking of being put together, Aelin glanced around before reaching into the top of her one piece bathing suit, pulling out a little travel sized vodka bottle from between her breasts. Making sure no one was watching, she unscrewed the top, dumping the contents into her smoothie.
Lysandra rolled her eyes, but Aelin just winked at her as she tossed the bottle into the nearby trash can, taking a long sip of the now spiked drink.
“You’re lucky if that doesn’t end up on the cover of Daily Mail tomorrow,” her friend lectured, “there’s probably paparazzi with long range cameras out there.”
Aelin just shrugged. “What’s wrong with a little vodka? Besides, the publicity, good or bad, might be helpful right before the show.” Lysandra just sighed.
She looked to her left, into the belly of the cafe, and made eye contact with a guy about her age, obviously trying to figure out if she was who he thought she was. Aelin cocked a golden brow at him, smirking slightly.
His cheeks flushed, but he smiled back at her, his handsome face lighting up with the expression. She winked again and his smile turned a bit dirtier. They exchanged a few more glances, but right when he looked like he was about to get up and come over to her, Aelin looked away. Right into Lysandra’s calculating face.
“So how’s it going with Mr. Basic, bland, and boring?” She asked, leaning back in her chair, and Aelin groaned, rolling her eyes.
“You know I don’t like it when you call him that,” she complained, but her best friend just shrugged.
“But it’s true, is it not?” She asked. “Are you two having trouble in paradise?” Aelin narrowed her eyes at her.
“How are you and my dear cousin?” She asked, flipping the conversation around. “Still dancing around each other like idiots?” Lysandra narrowed her eyes right back before laughing once.
“Fair enough, let’s move on. No more talking about our disastrous love lives.”
“Cheers to that,” Aelin said, raising her smoothie, and Lysandra mockingly clicked it with her own. Then she relaxed back into her chair, basking in the sun coming in through the open window. Until she groaned, seeing the faint reflection of the guy walking toward her, a cocky smile on his face.
“Aelin Galathynius, as I live and breathe,” the guy said, “what are you doing in our little hole in the wall?” He was trying to act suave, his brown hair windswept and his tan skin on display in his bathing suit, his shining white teeth visible in his tilted smile. He was classically handsome, but Aelin wasn’t buying the charm he was trying to sell, despite the mutual looks earlier.
Besides, she had a boyfriend.
So she tilted her head to the side, smiling cooly back at him. “I’ve been coming here since I was nineteen,” she said smoothly. “In fact I own it. So what are you doing in my cafe?” Bullshit, but it got the effect she was intending, the man’s brows shooting up in shock. “Now are you going to leave me alone? Or does my man over here have to have a little talk with you?” She gestured to her bodyguard behind her.
The guy looked confused, but properly scared, and she just smiled sardonically at him, dropping her sunglasses back over her eyes as he scampered away. Her smile dropped as she looked back at Lysandra.
“Men,” Aelin said, shrugging. “They’re all the same. Ridiculous, horny fools.”
Her best friend hummed in acknowledgement, lifting her smoothie glass again. “Now that, is something to cheers to.”
--------
Her head was pounding as she walked into the recording studio the next morning, her sunglasses slung over her eyes as she made her way inside, protecting them from the harsh fluorescents. Each step was slow too, her boots heavy against the wood floor. If she moved any faster, there was a good chance she’d fall over.
Because maybe, just maybe, she was a bit hungover.
After the beach the day before, she and Lysandra had gone clubbing in their bathing suits, before sneaking back out onto the sand and crashing someone’s bonfire, stealing all the drinks they could find. No one had recognized her, though she wasn’t too surprised. The more unlikely something seemed, the more determined people were to convince themselves that it wasn’t real.
But Aelin hadn’t gotten back to her upscale apartment until well after four in the morning, and here she was at ten, not exactly ready to go.
But, such was the life of a rockstar, and she managed to get the rest of the way into the building and into the room she needed to be in, collapsing into the well worn armchair against the wall, her eyes immediately falling shut.
“Wow, Aelin,” a familiar voice said, and she blearily opened her eyes to identify the source. “You look like shit.”
Her vision was hazy, but she eventually focused her gaze on the male figure sitting at the table across from her, a teasing smile on his face. Dorian.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said back, her voice croaky. “I look stunning, just as I always do.” The quip earned a laugh, which made her wince. Damn her head.
“Of course,” her friend and coworker teased back. “What am I saying?” He spun around in his green velvety spinny chair once, and her eyes followed him before moving to land on the figure next to him, who was already staring at her.
“Can we get started, Miss Galathynius?” A different voice asked, “We’re already half an hour behind schedule.” Her smile faded, and she narrowed her eyes at Duke Perrington, who was sitting next to Dorian with an unamused expression. He wasn’t the boss of her record label, and he wasn’t a producer either, like Dorian was, so she was a little surprised to see him. But she didn’t let it phase her.
“Before we start,” she drawled, “can I once again ask why the hell we’re here?” She leaned back in her chair. “Ultraviolence came out less than three months ago, I haven’t even gone on tour yet, and the Grammys are three days away.”
Perrington, the smarmy man, just raised a brow. Dorian was the only one who needed to be here if she really was to record something. With Perrington here, just another limb of Havilliard senior himself, it wasn’t a recording session, it was a business meeting.
Gods she was too hungover for this.
“Better to get a jump with the publicity and start promoting soon,” he said, “the sooner we have something, the more excitement we’ll build.”
“We get less excitement if we bombard the fans with music,” Aelin argued, looking to Dorian for support. Her friend just shook his head once.
“It’s up to us when that music gets disseminated,” Perrington said, leveling his dark gaze at her. “We just want to make sure we have it in hand, especially when the artist is… less than reliable.” He gave her a look and she just glared right back. He was saying the words nicely, but she could pick up on the subtext. She needed to produce something for them, soon. Now would be ideal, they wouldn’t be giving her a lot of wiggle room.
Maybe her fault, it’d taken her only a month to write Ultraviolence once her first album hit the radio, they’d gotten used to the fast paced timing. And now that she needed more time, now that she was hitting a wall for the first time in her career, they were expecting something that she didn’t have.
“So, Miss Galathynius,” Perrington continued, “what do you have for me?”
Absolutely fucking nothing.
----
The door slammed shut behind her and Aelin collapsed against the bathroom sink, breathing heavily. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, her entire body trembling, and with shaky hands she dug in her purse, searching for her box of cigarettes.
When she couldn’t find them, she cursed, flipping the bag over and dumping the contents onto the counter. She dug through it, finding her lighter and the pack of Camels she’d stuck in there the day before.
The beads of her purse shook as she tossed it to the side, shakily pulling out a cigarette and flicking open her lighter, catching the end of the cigarette until it was lit. Closing her eyes she stuck it in her mouth, bringing in the smoke and releasing it slowly, relishing in the comfort the nicotine brought her.
Maybe not a good habit, but who the fuck cared?
Aelin had bolted from the room right after Perrington started interrogating her on her next album. Did she have a single written? Did she have a title picked out? Did she even have a concept?
The answer to all of those questions was no, but she couldn’t tell him that. It was ridiculous of him to expect anything from her so soon, especially when she still had a whole tour ahead of her, but Havilliard studios functioned like a machine, and she needed to meet their schedule or else she was falling behind.
She didn’t even want to be signed to this fucking label, but they’d been the only one to take a chance on her when she first started reaching out. She’d been too risky of a gamble for other people, she hadn’t “proven” herself.
“Fucking assholes,” Aelin muttered, her cigarette hanging loosely in her hand. Her head fell back to rest against the tile wall, but her eyes fell sideways to look at the spilled contents of her bag. There was her flaming red lipstick (which she needed to reapply), her ID and cards, some cash, and -
A picture.
She blinked, taking another blow of smoke before reaching for the old polaroid. About four years old this summer, to be exact. Gods, she needed something stronger than just the nicotine. But her weed stash was back at her apartment, not anywhere near here, and she wouldn’t dare ask Dorian for some with Perrington there waiting like a shark.
That would only add to his image of her being unreliable. The drugs didn’t impede her, they enabled her. They allowed her to explore her creativity to the fullest, which she’d discovered with her second album. And gods would they need to come in handy for her third.
Aelin bent down and grabbed the polaroid gently, running her thumb over the side of it as she stared down at it, a long gone grin staring back. Half soft, half dirty, it was just the right mix in a smile. A smile she missed, and one she knew she’d likely never see again.
It’d been a one time thing, a fling in the back of a car on the beach, four years ago when no one knew her name. But he’d known it, and she’d known his. Rowan.
Gods, she missed him.
As many years as it’d been, she’d never found someone who understood her like he had in those few hours, even the boyfriend she’d been with for almost a year. Rowan would understand her now, he’d help her. He wouldn’t pressure her, just be by her side.
They’d had no expectations when he left, neither of them had harbored any hopes of seeing the other again, which was why they’d taken these very photos. Rowan had a polaroid of her, laughing into the wind on the sandy shore, and she had a polaroid of him, grinning at her from in front of the camera.
It was a token of remembrance… but secretly she’d held the hope that he’d find her. But he hadn’t. It’d been four years, and despite her being a full fledged celebrity now, easy to find… he just hadn’t.
And now here she was, alone.
But she wasn’t alone, she had a boyfriend. So why did it feel like she was?
And with that morose thought, she cleared her throat, standing up straight. She needed to get herself together.
So Aelin took another drag of her cigarette, shoving the photo back into her purse, along with the rest of the spilled contents except for her lipstick, which she reapplied in the mirror, the bright red popping against her tan skin. She adjusted the neckline of her crochet halter top, making sure everything was covered, before fluffing her blonde hair a little bit, fixing her sunglasses where they were perched on the top of her head.
She was hungover, yes, but she wasn’t going to look like a slob. And she wasn’t going to let Perrington dictate her musical creativity. No, fuck him.
She was Aelin fucking Galathynius, she wasn’t going to let any man tell her what to do.
---------
The day of the Grammys was both everything she was expecting and everything she wasn’t. Lysandra had come over and helped her get ready, along with her whole team of stylists, just waiting at her beck and call to deck her out for the show. It was televised after all.
And when she got there, it was just like her dream and yet it wasn’t, as she stepped out of her car, her heeled boots clicking against the pavement. The noise was deafening, the shouts of the paparazzi, the clicks of the cameras. It was almost overwhelming, but Aelin just smiled and waved, her beaded dress swinging around her.
She’d done the exact same thing in her dream, but in her dream she’d had a false sense of security, nothing was going to go wrong. Now, Aelin was very aware of the fact that something could. But honestly, what was the worst that could happen?
A reporter asked her about her third album? She’d just deflect. She hadn’t even gone on tour yet, she had plenty of time.
Right? Right.
She shoved her nerves far back in her brain, burying them so deep they couldn’t possibly be visible as she began walking down the carpet toward the entrance to the theater. Paparazzi lined the sides, taking pictures of her as she posed intermittently, switching between a bright smile and a smolder, turning to show off her brilliant dress.
The lights from the cameras flashed against it, lighting up the beads like a disco ball. Aelin was a bit biased, but she knew she was the best dressed here. She’d most certainly top the best dressed list, based on other people’s outfits she could see.
She needed to remember to send Essar, her stylist, flowers after this.
Manon Blackbeak, who she saw about ten yards away from her, was well dressed, she had to admit. The black leather pantsuit complimented her lean body well, her pale hair and dark makeup contrasting nicely. The rest of her punk band was scattered around her, the guitarist Asterin doing an interview with a journalist nearby.
Punk rock wasn’t Aelin’s music taste, but she admired them for sticking to what they wanted to do in an industry that wasn’t very kind to women.
They had to be allies, and though they hadn’t talked much, Aelin knew they supported her just like she supported them. A fact proven by the nod Manon shot her way when they made eye contact, to which Aelin winked back.
As she posed, some journalists were shouting at her, trying to get their questions out, and she ignored most of them, except for one young woman standing to the side, not aggressively calling for her. So Aelin headed in her direction, smiling.
“Good evening, Miss Galathynius,” she greeted, and Aelin nodded back. “Thank you for stopping to talk. How are you feeling about the show? Going up against all of these amazing artists? Anyone you’re particularly nervous about?”
The journalist held her microphone toward Aelin and she spoke into it, her stomach twisting at the words that sounded so familiar to the ones in her dream.
So she answered the same way too, because why not?
“I’m not worried,” Aelin answered, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I’m confident in the music that I produced, and if the recording academy doesn’t see it, then that’s their loss, not mine.” The quip earned a laugh, just like she’d expected it to.
She had a persona, one she’d perfected since catapulting into fame, and everyone on the radio and on TV was used to her attitude, her bravado. It was her image, it was what was expected of her. So no one was going to blame her for her snarky answers.
The public loved it, her fans loved it, her record label didn’t. She’d barely managed to get out of the studio the other day without giving any information about her next album. Instead of coming up with something on the spot, some bullshit to throw at Perrington, she’d distracted him with a different idea.
A special edition 7 inch vinyl, with an acoustic recording of her song, Brooklyn Baby, from Ultraviolence. They announce it right before the Grammys, the publicity for the album shoots up just when they need it to. It wouldn’t sway the results, but it would add to her popularity, add to how many people were talking about her at a given time.
And it was perfect publicity for her tour. She was only going to a few different cities across the country, as it was supposed to be an exclusive tour, but her team was open to booking a few more dates if there was enough demand for it.
And there would be demand for it.
“Let’s talk about your amazing outfit, then,” the journalist continued with a smile, gesturing to her dress. Aelin followed the gesture, spinning a little to show off the beads. “Who are you wearing today?”
She smoothed down the sides of her dress, flashing a smile to the camera nearby. “I’m wearing Essar. She’s done wonderful work for me, and I’m very lucky to be wearing her design.”
There. That was better than flowers.
“Well, you look absolutely stunning,” the journalist added, her dark hair gleaming when she shifted. “Which leads me to my next question, no man on your arm tonight?”
Internally, Aelin scoffed, but externally she shrugged with a sideways smile. “I don’t need a man. I can walk up the stage to get my award all by myself in these shoes.” She laughed at her own joke before adding on, nodding once. “In reality, my boyfriend couldn’t make it tonight. So I’m on my own.”
The journalist laughed politely, but a sinking feeling sat in Aelin’s gut, and she cleared her throat, looking away. Her gaze latched on the doors to the theater, which were slowly beginning to open. And all she wanted to do was sit down.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, nodding in dismissal, before turning away from the reporter, heading down the carpet toward the doors.
And she didn’t stop to talk to anyone as she found her way to her seat.
“Thank you,” she murmured to a waiter, accepting a glass of champagne. No one else was at her table yet, but she didn’t care, pulling out a cigarette from her purse and lighting it, holding the smoke in one hand and the glass in the other, alternating between the two.
Her eyes fell closed, and she breathed in the smoke, her head running through her nominations.
Record of the Year
Album of the Year
Song of the Year
Best Female Pop Vocal Performance
Again, she’d scoffed at the last one, but if it got her another Grammy, she’d take it.
She sat there, calmly, people slowly filtering in, until someone she did recognize sat down next to her.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she crooned, leaning back in her chair. She took a long sip of her champagne, staring at the gorgeous face of Fenrys Moonbeam. He smiled devilishly back at her, throwing his arm over the back of her chair.
He looked particularly handsome that night, in a velvet dark blue jumpsuit, with bell bottom pants, something only he would be able to pull off. Fenrys had dabbled in singing, and acting, and pretty much anything you could think of, but his real claim to fame was modeling. He was a full fledged celebrity because of it, which was how he’d scored a ticket to an event like this.
“Oh Aelin, Aelin, Aelin,” he crooned back, “the Grammys dragged me in. They can’t get enough of me. Just like you, right?”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she laughed and pushed him away, rolling her eyes. “Gods, Moonbeam,” she teased, “and I thought my ego was bad.”
They’d met at one of her first awards shows years ago, he’d seen her and taken the step to introduce himself. Well, he’d introduced himself by judging her outfit, claiming her bright red pants clashed with her shirt. She’d given some snarky response back, and here they were two years later.
Besides Lysandra, he was probably her best friend. And Aelin was sure there were plenty of rumors out there about their “status” and if they were really just friends. She herself had suspected at one point if he felt that way about her, but she knew he didn’t because -
Another familiar face slid into the seat on her other side, a face she’d seen just the other day. Fenrys shot a wink to Dorian as he settled in on her right, a sly grin on his face.
-That’s why.
It wasn’t any of her business what Fenrys did or didn’t do, or who he did or didn’t do, though they’d had a good laugh once Aelin had admitted her suspicions.
But they barely got time to talk then because the lights in the theater began to dim, the rest of the table filling in with seat fillers as the lights turned to the stage.
It was showtime.
-------
Her feet were aching as she stepped off the stage, her sky high boots not doing the same favors to her muscles as it did to her body the longer she wore them. Yeah, she looked damn good in them, but they hurt like hell.
But she was so exhilarated she barely felt it, as she stepped off backstage, passing her guitar to some attendant on the side. She could still hear the ringing of the audience’s applause in her ears, bringing a tired smile to her lips as she headed back to her seat, not bothering to change.
About midway through the awards show, it’d been her cue to head back and change into her costume for her performance, one of the many stars that put on a show throughout the evening. And, if her red carpet outfit was black and beaded, all dark and mysterious, then her performance outfit was the exact opposite. It was white and flowy, but short, and fairly sheer, with strategically designed rhinestones that covered anything too important, and feathers on the hem of her sleeves. She was floaty, she was free.
It was yet another outfit she loved.
So she didn’t bother changing back as she took her seat back at her table, sitting down with a huff. Right in front of the two Grammys gracing the table in front of her. Best Female Pop Vocal Performance and Song of the Year.
“Nice show, fire girl,” Fenrys teased, pinching her arm, and she stuck her tongue at him. They were on commercial break, the show transitioning into the next award, so they could talk freely. “Though I still think you should’ve sang the lovely ninth song off of your album.”
Aelin let out a sharp laugh at that, clapping her hand over her mouth. She could only imagine the reaction.
“Wait,” Dorian interjected, “which one is that?” They both just stared at him, waiting for him to catch up. And it was clear when he did, his eyes going wide. “Well,” he said, “that would’ve been quite the show.”
“Maybe I should,” Aelin suggested, blasé, “it could’ve guaranteed me that last award.” Record of the Year. She hadn’t quite snatched it, which she was desperately trying to be casual about.
They all shared a laugh at her joke, but quieted down quickly as the lights once again dimmed, the show entering its final award.
“Here,” Fenrys whispered, passing her something under the table. “To make the last award a little more fun.” Aelin grabbed it from him discreetly, feeling the distinct shape of a weed edible.
“Gods,” she chuckled under her breath, “You’re trouble, Fenrys Moonbeam.” But she chucked it in her mouth anyway, chewing and swallowing it quickly before any of the cameras caught her.
He wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t anything too scandalous, nothing she hadn’t done before, but the calm of the weed would help her stay relaxed in case this didn’t go the way she’d planned it to. The way she needed it to.
Because despite her lazy and confident exterior, she needed this.
Which was why, despite the drugs, she was shaky, her breaths tight, as the announcer listed out the nominees for Album of the Year. Well, she kind of tuned them out until she heard -
“Ultraviolence, Aelin Galathynius.”
She was the last one listed of the nominees, which meant it was time for -
romaincrisis
snowghoul
2087
