Rowan Week Day 2: Rowan and the Cadre @rowaelinscourt
A little comic relief set during Empire of Storms. Gavriel and Fenrys reflect on how much Rowan has changed since meeting Aelin.
~850 words
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“Maybe she put a spell on him.”
Gavriel brought up his sword, bracing against Fenrys’s half-hearted attack. “Does it really bother you,” he said, panting as he stepped backwards, “that much?”
“I have known him”—Fenrys advanced across the ship’s swaying deck, and stabbed—“for over a hundred years.” Another swing. “Not once—not once have I seen him act like this.”
“They’re in love,” Gavriel sighed. “It’s not complicated.” He punctuated his exasperation with a slice to the left, and then to the right. Fenrys parried until Gavril had the advantage. With a quick roll of his arm, he raised his sword and brought it down in a battle-ending attack—
“She has to have done something to him.” Fenrys shook his head and dropped his sword to the deck.
With a gasp, Gavriel only just managed to reroute his strike—and only just managed to avoid beheading his friend, who was now frowning at the blue sky, totally oblivious.
“Moonbeam,” he half-yelped. “Always keep your eyes on your enemy’s weapon!” Heart beats now coming quickly enough that Gavriel couldn’t tell them apart, he sheathed his sword. “Do you understand how dangerous it is to allow yourself to be distracted—”
Fenrys waved a hand in unbothered dismissal. “Not as dangerous as whatever dark magic the Lightbringer used on Whitethorn.”
Just then, the pair in question finally emerged from the lower decks. It was well past noon, but Fenrys had informed Gavriel that they’d been awake since the crack of dawn. Poor Moonbeam shared a wall with them. A thin wall.
Gavriel wouldn’t be surprised if Aelin had assigned the cabins like that, purely to put Fenrys through hell.
Rowan’s eyes were bright and a flush remained across Aelin’s cheeks and neck, which only got darker when Rowan brought his free hand to her lower back. They were carrying an assortment of foods between them, and though he didn’t judge, Gavriel wasn’t sure if it was meant to be breakfast or lunch.
“It’s disturbing,” Fenrys declared as the queen and her prince sat down on the steps to the quarter deck, shoulder-to-shoulder. The couple was dressed for sparring, but it was doubtful that they’d get around to it before running back to their room. “A violation against nature.”
Gavriel didn’t roll his eyes—that never worked well with the Moonbeams—but he really would have liked to. “Rowan’s nature has always been gentler than he lets on,” he said.
“Right,” Fenrys snorted before pointing a blatant finger at Rowan’s face. “You expect me to believe that the male who only ever used to smile when he was threatening to cut out my tongue has a soft side—did he just giggle?”
Aelin had leaned in close to whisper something in Rowan’s ear, and the prince had broken into vibrant laughter that echoed across the deck. Their grins were infectious—or would have been, were Fenrys’s sour attitude not ruining it.
“You know what he said to me the other day?” Fenrys spat, like he was disgusted by the memory alone.
Gavriel turned a long-suffering sigh up to the sky. “No. What did Rowan say?”
“How are you?”
A pause. “I don’t understand—”
“He smiled at me,” Fenrys spluttered, “and then he said, ‘How are you?’ What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“I think it means … what it’s supposed to mean.”
“You don’t get it.” Fenrys shook his head passionately. “He’s always been such a bastard.”
Gavriel smiled crookedly. “That’s just because Rowan doesn’t particularly like you.”
In response, Fenrys gestured wildly at Rowan. Like the sight was evidence that the male had lost his mind. The prince didn’t even notice their scrutiny. He was too busy kissing Aelin’s neck. Gavriel looked away as Fenrys made a gagging sound.
“You cannot pretend that this isn’t bizarre,” Fenrys insisted. “You have to admit it’s shocking.”
Gavriel considered it. “Of course, it’s strange to see him so changed,” he conceded. “But I don’t think it’s magic or manipulation that brought them together.” Gavriel thought of that visit to Mistward, the first time he’d laid eyes on the missing queen. “Even when Rowan was still … warming up to Aelin, he was fixated on her. He told me he hated her … and yet I hadn’t seen him care enough about anything to hate it in centuries. There was something about her from the very beginning.”
And even if they would one day stand on opposite ends of a battlefield because of it, Gavriel didn’t begrudge Rowan the change. He’d been adrift for far too long.
Fenrys was silent for a long moment, but ultimately scrunched up his nose. “I just didn’t think he’d be so gooey now.” As he spoke, the couple indeed did sneak off back to their room.
No sparring today, then.
“He threatened to kill you just the other day,” Gavriel pointed out.
“But he didn’t mean it,” Fenrys whined. “She did something to him. I know it.”
“Well,” Gavriel patted his friend on the back, “you let me know when you figure it out.” Then he walked away, leaving Fenrys no less disturbed, confused, or suspicious.
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