Nov 16, 2024
and now begs the question of how hard i should go on the flower themed body horror of pb chara’s design >:3c
seen from Australia
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and now begs the question of how hard i should go on the flower themed body horror of pb chara’s design >:3c
insp.
In the Bleak Midwinter {20}
A Throne of Glass Period AU: 1920s.
Summary: 2 years after Arobynn Hammel is killed by Rowan Whitethorn, Maeve has returned from Eyllwe with a vengeance. Meanwhile, Rowan is getting married, Lorcan is a father, and Lysandra is finally ready to give her heart away. There’s been peace in The Cadre’s Orynth for 2 years, but peace never lasts.
A/N: Epilogue coming soon....
All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.
**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.
Links & masterlists:
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The Cadre - 1920s AU {TOG}
In the Bleak Midwinter {The Cadre, Part 2}
For what seemed like the hundredth time in days, Aelin awoke in an unfamiliar place. The ground beneath her was damp and cool, covered in sticks and dead leaves. Once her vision cleared, she was blinking up at a surrounding of trees, bare from their fallen leaves of Autumn. She pushed herself up on her elbows, which sunk into the seeping dirt, covering her already dusty, bloody dress in thick mud.
A fluttering came from inside of her stomach, and Aelin was, once again, grateful to her baby for letting her know that they were still there, perfectly okay.
After pushing herself up on her knees, Aelin looked around. She was in the middle of the woods, but other than that, she had no idea where she was.
No fucking clue.
After taking a look around in every direction, she screamed at the top of her lungs.
There was no response.
Once she had randomly picked a direction, Aelin started walking.
With every step she took, she thought of Rowan.
Where was he? What had Maeve done since she’d left?
Left, been kicked out - same difference.
Aelin remembered very little. She was hungry, scared, heartbroken from hearing Rowan scream her name from the upstairs, wherever he had been upstairs. She could hear her name, which he shouted from the top of his lungs, through the door in which Maeve had kept her in within the basement.
Not long after, Cairn entered her room and hit her in the head with the butt of his gun.
She remembered nothing else until moments ago, when she woke up, tossed on the ground like a piece of trash.
She kept walking.
Every step hurt, she was beginning to feel dizzy.
Her hands rested on her stomach, giving her as much strength as she could muster.
Aelin felt like she had walked for hours, for days, even though the sun never set. Although it was Autumn, the sun was warm, and she was dehydrated. After a while, she decided on a break and plopped down on a log.
Her nightgown was ripped, her nightgown that she had been wearing when they stole Aelin from her bed.
Aelin forced herself to stand back up, even though her knees shook, and continued on her way. She still had no idea where she was, but she had been walking for so long that she figured she had to be getting to civilization soon.
She imagined that she couldn’t have been out long enough to go somewhere far enough away that she couldn’t find her way back. She didn’t think she had been out that long. But, then again, she had no idea how long she had really been out.
So she walked.
She walked for hours, walked until the sun began to sink low in the sky.
Then she saw smoke billowing in the distance, high above the trees.
A mangled cry left Aelin’s trembling body, and she tried to run, even though every inch of her body ached, even though she felt like she would faint.
For my baby, for Rowan. She repeated the words in her mind with every step she took, each time the ones she loved pushed her forward.
Until she fell out into a clearing.
Her house, the manor, sat half a mile away across the vast,green landscape.
Aelin sobbed.
Hours, she had spent hours wandering around through her own land, her own woods. They had brought her home. In the cruelest of ways, certainly, but they had brought her home.
Why would they bring her home?
Aelin’s blood ran cold.
Rowan had made a deal.
She had no doubt about it.
Her freedom, her to go home, for his life.
Aelin ran.
With every little last ounce of energy she had, Aelin ran across the grass, held onto her small bump as she ran and ran and ran until she was throwing open the front door.
“Gavriel!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face. “Aedion!”
“Aelin?” Lysandra was around the corner, tears in her eyes as Aelin threw herself into her friend’s arms. “Aelin! What - How - Are you-.”
“Rowan made a deal, they dropped me off in the woods, they left me for dead, on our property, they still have Ro, Lys, they have him, and they’re going to kill him-.”
“Ael-.”
“We have to go to him,” Aelin sobbed, her entire body shaking. Lysandra was practically holding her up. “We have to go to him, where are they? Where are the boys? Gavriel! Lorcan! Vau-.”
“Aelin,” Lysandra said, her voice loud, her face close to Aelin’s. “They’re gone.”
Aelin went still. “Gone?”
“They found out where Maeve is staying, where she’s keeping Rowan, they’ve already left.”
“They’ve already left,” Aelin breathed.
“They’ve already left,” Lysandra repeated, keeping her tear-lined eyes on Aelin’s.
“They’re going to get Rowan?” Aelin whispered.
“They’re going to get him,” Lysandra promised.
“And Lucy?”
“Safe,” Lysandra promised. “Napping in her crib, Natalia hasn’t left her side.”
“I have to apologize to Lorcan, I should have protected her, when he gets back with Rowan, I have to tell him I’m sorry, I have to, he has to, Rowan, Rowan has to-.”
“He’s coming back,” Lysandra said, her voice stern, even though it broke as the words escaped her. “There’s nothing to apologize for, it wasn’t your fault, and the men are coming back with Rowan, okay? They’re coming back.”
Aelin’s lip wobbled as she fell into Lysandra’s arms, sobbing, her face buried into Lysandra’s shoulder.
Lysandra held Aelin close, clung to her best friend, sobbed alongside her, neither saying a word.
It wasn’t until those sobs died down that Aelin finally spoke again, in the quietest of voices.
“Lys?”
“Yeah?”
“What if it’s already too late?” she asked, afraid of the words. The last thing Aelin remembered was his screams, his voice, echoing through the house, terrified.
Lysandra didn’t reply.
She only held Aelin tighter.
~~~~~
The gunshot rang through Rowan’s mind.
It all happened so quickly.
He was screaming for Aelin.
Screaming, because he didn’t know where she was, his wife.
She wasn’t there, Maeve had said.
She wouldn’t tell him where she was.
His wife.
His mate.
His love.
Carrying his child.
He screamed for her, over and over again. He screamed, but no one gave him an answer.
Maeve told him that his time was over.
Rowan didn’t care.
He just wanted his wife.
Maeve told him that he was worthless, told him that it was his fault her life had gone to shit, blamed Arobynn’s end on him.
It was Rowan’s fault.
He didn’t regret it.
He kept calling for Aelin.
Her name had barely left his lips when the gunshot rang out.
It hit Rowan between the ribs.
Maeve’s face was the last thing he saw before he faded away into darkness.
Her dark, serpentine grin.
Now, he had no idea where he was.
He wasn’t in pain, though. The bullet had hurt. The bullets always hurt.
Now, wherever he was, it no longer hurt.
Maeve wasn’t there, either.
He was still wearing his dingy clothes, his shirt still bloodstained where her shot had hit him.
“Hello?” he asked.
Suddenly, he was in a clearing. He was on his feet, his feet bare atop the grass. He spun around. All he could see was trees.
“Rowan?”
He knew that voice.
He spun around.
Connall, dressed in his finest suit, was leaning up against the trunk of a tree, smoking a cigarette. He gave Rowan a mischievous grin.
Rowan had missed that grin. “Con?”
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he said, blowing a puff of smoke into the open air.
“Where am I?” Rowan asked, quietly.
Connall cocked his head to the side. “You’re still breathing, you know.”
“What?” Rowan shot back. “Where am-.”
“Maeve shot you, in the ribs, and she wants you to suffer a slow, miserable death. You’re still breathing,” Connall replied, his voice light, his eyes bright. “You could still wake up.”
“I don’t understand,” Rowan said, shaking his head.
“What’s not to understand?” Connall asked. “You’re dying. Want a smoke?”
Rowan blinked. Connall was now standing a mere foot away, holding out a box of smokes.
Rowan hesitated. “But-.”
“It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?” A new voice.
Rowan spun around.
Elide was there with that familiar, comforting smile.
“El,” he breathed, and his eyes were suddenly lined with tears as he looked back and forth between the two members of the Cadre that had been lost.
Lost, too soon, too young, long before their time.
“We’ve missed you both,” he said.
Connall’s grin widened. “Who knew becoming a father would make you so vulnerable, Whitethorn?”
Becoming a father.
Rowan wouldn’t be able to see his child be born.
Elide’s eyes softened. “You can still wake up, Ro.”
If he woke up, he’d be in pain.
What if Maeve was still there? She would stay there, smiling, watching him die.
He was a dead man.
“Not yet,” Elide said, reading his thoughts with a kind, gentle smile. “They’re coming.”
“Who?”
“Who do you think?” Connall asked, rolling his eyes. “Your men, along with Rhoe and his men.”
“They’re coming?” Rowan asked, as Elide’s hand rested on his shoulder.
“You didn’t think they’d let you die without a fight, did you?” Elide asked.
Rowan slowly shook his head. “Is this real?”
“Is what real?” Connall asked.
“This,” Rowan breathed, gesturing around them. “Wherever we are, the two of you.”
Connall tossed his cigarette onto the ground and put it out with his boot. “Do you want it to be real?”
Yes, he did. He wanted to see them, was happy to see them.
But he wasn’t ready to die.
“It’s real if you want it to be,” Elide followed, when Rowan said nothing. “You’re still breathing, Ro.”
Still breathing.
The Cadre was coming for him.
Aelin was alive, he knew it, felt it in his bones. ‘
“Live,” Connall pushed, reaching up to put his hand on Rowan’s shoulder.
The second Connall’s hand touched his dusty sleeve, Rowan’s eyes were shooting open.
~~~~~
They weren’t exactly sure what to expect when they got to the abandoned manor, but they were pleasantly surprised at one thing: they were fairly evenly matched in men, and Maeve’s men were not ready for a surprise attack.
Two men were shot before they even made it through the door. Chaol and Dorian were walking around the manor, eliminating all threats to the outside. On the inside was Rhoe, Ren, Aedion, and the Cadre, led by Lorcan and his twin revolvers.
Lorcan shot first and looked who it was after.
They were here, they knew it, and they would be getting them out.
True to Fenrys’ word, they found the closet that led down to the basement. There were a few more of Maeve’s men that were quickly demolished, but after opening up door after door, they found it was empty.
“It makes no sense,” Lorcan growled, kicking up a door that he’d already opened and searched within. “Where are they?”
“They should be here,” Fenrys agreed, shaking his head. Someone’s blood was smeared across his cheek.
“They have to be here somewhere,” Gavriel said.
“The place is massive, we don’t have much time, if I had to take a guess,” Rhoe said, his face paled. “Let’s move. Split up. Search the grounds.”
There was no time to disagree. Lorcan went with Gavriel and Fenrys as Rhoe, Ren, and Aedion searched the first floor. Lorcan was halfway up the basement’s stairs when he saw her.
She was smiling, brightly, as beautiful as she always was.
“Elide,” he breathed.
Gavriel shot him a look, but Lorcan wasn’t paying attention. He was watching as Elide whispered, “Follow me, my love.”
Lorcan didn’t hesitate. “Follow me.”
Gavriel and Fenrys looked worriedly at one another, but it didn’t stop their feet from moving, didn’t stop them from following him.
“Where is he?” Lorcan asked.
“Follow me,” Elide repeated, but she was moving quickly. They went through the kitchens and through the halls, through the foyer and into the winding hallway.
“Are they together?” Lorcan asked, following Elide up the winding staircase.
“How the hell am I supposed to know?” Gavriel growled.
“He’s not talking to you,” Fenrys whispered, with a surprise calm.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Gavriel asked, exasperated.
Fenrys didn’t answer.
“Who?” Elide asked, at last, as they neared the second floor landing.
“Aelin and Rowan,” Lorcan snapped. “Are they together?”
Elide’s brows furrowed. “Aelin is gone. Home, safe, with baby Lucy.”
Lorcan said, “Aelin is home.”
“Home? What-.”
“Trust him,” Fenrys begged.
Gavriel growled in frustration.
They followed Elide to the end of the hall where she stopped in front of a door. Before anyone could open it, her eyes widened. “Turn around!”
A shot rang out, but it missed them all, hitting the spot where Elide’s incandescent form stood in front of the wall.
They all spun, coming eye to eye with Maeve, Cairn to her right.
“It’s about time,” Maeve crooned, her heels clicking along the hardwood. “But, I’m afraid Aelin has left, and it’s too late for your leader.”
“Where is he?” Lorcan growled.
“Don’t bother,” she said, her smile remaining. “Too late.”
“Where the fuck is he?” Gavriel yelled, taking a step toward Maeve.
Cairn raised his gun.
Gavriel froze.
“Another step and it will be your last,” Maeve promised, her grin fading.
“You have a lot of nerve,” Lorcan said, quietly.
Mave only lifted a thin, sculpted brow. “Pardon?”
“My wife,” he breathed. “Connall. Now Rowan.” He shook his head. “You’ve known us our entire lives. Why?”
“Arobynn-.”
“Why?!” He screamed, Lorcan’s voice echoing through the hallway. “You are a ruthless, worthless, piece of shit!”
“Lor,” Gavriel whispered, in warning.
“What’s she going to do?” Lorcan asked, snorting. “Shoot me?”
“Oh, I’d love to,” Maeve snapped, and snatched the gun from Cairn’s hand. It went off, the bullet hitting a nearby lamp, shattering the bulb into countless piece and the clay base into chunks.
Another shot went off.
Everyone froze.
All but Maeve, who fell to the ground.
Smoke was coming from the revolver in Lorcan’s hand.
“That was for my wife, you bitch,” Lorcan hissed, slowly lowering the gun back to his side.
Cairn stared at Maeve’s lifeless form, his lips parted.
His body joined hers soon after, thanks to Gavriel.
Lorcan had already turned and was pushing his way inside of the room that Elide had led them to. After he pushed open the door, he froze.
Then he ran.
He ran to the center of the room where Rowan was tied, hanging limply, in an old wooden chair. There was a crimson stain on his shirt, above his ribs.
“Rowan!” Gavriel growled, but Lorcan was already on his knees in front of his leader.
“Ro,” he whispered, patting Rowan on his face. “Rowan, hey, Ro, wake up, yeah?” He pressed his ear up to Rowan’s chest.
“He’s breathing,” Elide said, softly, from behind Lorcan’s shoulder. “He was here, but now he’s not. He’s ready to live.”
Lorcan looked up at his wife, and the gentle kindness in her eyes.
She was fading.
“What?” was all Lorcan could say.
“Get him to the hospital,” Elide said, as her form became lighter and lighter.
“Elide,” he breathed.
Gavriel was untying Rowan, and Fenrys stood close by, not saying a word.
Perhaps he understood.
Perhaps he saw Connall, sometimes, too.
“Goodbye, my love,” she whispered, and Lorcan knew a tear had fallen down his cheek, but he didn’t care.
Elide disappeared, and Rowan fell forward with a groan. Gavriel had loosened the bonds around his wrists, and Lorcan caught Rowan, lifting him up.
Even as he wept.
Rowan’s eyes were still shut, but the house was silent, all for Rhoe’s voice from down the hall.
“Gavriel?”
They all looked through the open door. Rhoe stood before Maeve and Cairn’s bodies, Ren and Aedion behind him.
No one bothered to ask what had happened.
Maeve was dead.
That was all that mattered.
“We need to get Rowan out of here, to medical professionals,” Lorcan said, although his voice sounded distanced.
Rowan.
Elide.
Blood.
Maeve.
Cairn.
Too much was happening.
Rowan was being lifted off of Lorcan, then Lorcan was on his feet, following the others out of the room.
Everything was in a blur.
Elide was gone.
Elide was gone, and everything was in a blur.
Elide was gone.
Gone.
He couldn’t see her ghost, not anymore.
As Lorcan followed the others out of the house, over the dead bodies in which they shot, Gavriel hung close, holding Lorcan up by the arm.
Shock.
Lorcan was in shock.
His wife’s ghost disappeared.
His best friend was shot.
He had shot Maeve.
He was following the others out of the house, but he felt like he was in a dream.
A dream, a nightmare...One of them. Either, or.
Rowan was taken from the house, put in a cab, and driven away.
To safety.
To help.
Lorcan watched.
Watched, and waited, and hoped for the very best.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@mariamuses @garnet-29 @writer-reader-traveller @rowaelin-cressworth @space-buns-arsinoe @negativenesta @empress-ofbloodshed @the-regal-warrior @starseternalnighttriumphant @westofmoon @sammyjojaaaa @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @carbconnoisseur @acer6437 @lorcansalvatearupmyheart @cool-ish-nerd @mynewdreamwasyou @mourning-razorlust @thespiritualrider @rowaelinforeverworld @didsomeonesayviolin @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @queen-of-glass @the-dark-swan @http-itsrebecca @holdingon-21@babycardan @tswaney17 @mollycateoc @chemicha @bat-wing-rhys @exersize-me-i-dare-u @thespiritualrider @luna-the-little @morebooks-pls @shyvioletcat @hermajestyanna @a97girl @stardustsroses @queenofthemoon22 @alifletcher2012 @awkward-avocado-s @faerie-queen-fireheart @cwheart @lovemollywho @emilyrose111294 @nerdperson524 @sleeping-and-books @cursebreaker29 @flora-and-fae @feyrethedarklady @the-dark-swan @rowaelinforeverworld @sjmsstuff @januarystears @mis-lil-red @acourtofmoonlight @rowaelinforeverworld @courtofmaasdestruction @jjellybean @thewayshedreamed @wind-drinker @aelin-rowan-whitehorn @starseternalnighttriumphant @hurema @http-itsrebecca @lorcansalvatearupmyheart @cityofchelsea16 @januarystears @iliketoasterstrudels @lightitup-bryce @yikesitsmaddie @feyrethedarklady @i-love-all-books @keshavomit @sleeping-and-books @scarznstars @http-itsrebecca @cat5313 @moondancer-204 @booklover242 @belamoonbeam @they-call-me-cuatro @b00kworm @mu-si-ca-l @thegayerpotato @abraxos-is-toothless @keshavomit @musicdreamer003 @superspiritfestival @sailorsassley @mymultiversee @alxanxah @viviaannvu123 @mysweetvillain @theghostlyharrypooperfan @highqueenofelfhame @shyvioletcat @maastrash @the-third-me @rinad307
PB AU, Part 6: White and his pupil
leSBIAN ARAGORN/ARWEN PRINCESS BRIDE AU??? 👀👀~peredain
YES i have the whole thing plotted out in extreme detail,, with lots of twists that get me very excited, but i’ve already got SO many WIPs.....!!!
Me? Making fake Phantom Blood manga and anime screenshots? It’s more likely than you think.
In the Bleak Midwinter {19}
A Throne of Glass Period AU: 1920s.
Summary: 2 years after Arobynn Hammel is killed by Rowan Whitethorn, Maeve has returned from Eyllwe with a vengeance. Meanwhile, Rowan is getting married, Lorcan is a father, and Lysandra is finally ready to give her heart away. There’s been peace in The Cadre’s Orynth for 2 years, but peace never lasts.
A/N: So, uh, next chapter is the last chapter...
All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.
**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.
Links & masterlists:
Fanfic Masterlist
Ask me
The Cadre - 1920s AU {TOG}
In the Bleak Midwinter {The Cadre, Part 2}
Gavriel’s hand hit the sergeant’s desk with a thump.
“We need to know where she is, and we need to know where she is, now.”
“I have no information,” Sergeant Nazari said, through gritted teeth. “I’ve told you as much ten times now, I don’t know when it’ll get through your head.”
Sergeant Nazari had been on the Cadre’s payroll for the past five years. He’d been incredibly helpful through the years, had saved all of their asses a million times, but in this particular situation, Gavriel was about to lose his shit.
He opened his mouth, prepared to scream at the man on the other side of the desk, but Vaughan’s hand gently rested on his shoulder.
Vaughan was right.
Nazari had never lied to them before. He was loyal.
If he was saying he didn’t know where Maeve was, he really didn’t know where she was.
“Fine,” Gavriel breathed. “If you find anything out-.”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Sergeant Nazari promised.
With a nod, Gavriel and Vaughan exited the station, pulling out their cigarette cases the moment they stepped out into the street.
“I don’t get it,” Gavriel began, shaking his head. “Someone in this damned city has to know where Maeve has holed herself up.”
He met Vaughan’s weary gaze.
“I know,” Gavriel sighed. “We’re running out of time.”
Vaughan nodded his agreement, his shoulders slumping, but his pace remaining steady as they walked back to their horses. After they mounted their saddles, they were hurrying out of town, back toward the estate.
When they returned, Rhoe and his men were standing outside, smoking, a worried Lysandra pacing in front of them.
“News?” Gavriel asked, before he even hopped off his horse.
Before anyone could answer, a car came speeding up the dirt drive, and Fenrys had the door open before Lorcan had it parked.
“They’re at the old Cartwright Manor!” he yelled, chest heaving, as if they’d been hurrying. Which, with such information, they should have been. “Since Cartwright died last year, it’s been uninhabited.”
The Cartwright Manor was only a few miles west.
“Let’s go,” Gavriel said, readying to mount his horse, yet again.
“We need a plan,” Lorcan said, turning off the engine.
“Like hell we do!” Gavriel yelled. “We’re running out of time!”
“And if we go in there with no plan and create chaos, we’re all going to fucking die!” Lorcan replied, slamming his door shut behind him.
Gavriel knew that Lorcan was right, but it still pissed him off to admit it. “Then what, pray tell, is the plan?”
Lorcan ignored Gavriel’s sarcastic comment. “I don’t fucking know, but I know we need one.”
“Before we all start fighting, because that’s where I see this is headed,” Fenrys began, stepping between them. “I have an idea.”
All eyes landed on him.
“I went to the Cartwright Manor, often, as a kid, Con and I,” he began. “I know the layout pretty well.”
“Why?” Gavriel asked, curiously.
“Is that information necessary right now?” Lorcan muttered.
“Our father was good friends with Mr. Cartwright,” Fenrys answered, plainly. “The servant’s entrance is in the back. There’s this creepy, narrow old tunnel beneath the kitchens, I assume they’re probably being held there. Con and I used to joke that that’s where old Cartwright took his prisoners. Through the servant’s entrance, just to the left, there’s a door. Most mistake it as a coat closet, but it’s a staircase that will lead you downstairs.”
Lorcan nodded, slowly. “We have no idea how many of Maeve’s men are there.”
“True,” Fenrys agreed, and nodded to Rhoe and his men. “But we have them, and plenty of ammunition.”
“So, what?” Gavriel asked. “We break through the servant’s entrance and start shooting?”
Fenrys blinked, shrugging. “Do you have a better idea?”
Gavriel blew a puff of smoke into the air.
No.
No he didn’t.
“We’re all going to die,” Lorcan muttered.
From there, no one said a word. Maybe Lorcan was right, maybe they’d all get shot, maybe Maeve’s men would completely overpower them and everything leading up to this point would be all for nothing.
Elide’s death.
Connall’s death.
Every night they had laid awake, unsure of their futures.
Every anxious day, every agonizing hour, every trip to the hospital or sighting of blood.
But they wouldn’t leave Aelin there, wouldn’t leave Rowan there.
He was their leader.
So Gavriel tossed his cigarette into the dirt and stepped on it. “Let’s reload.”
~~~~~
Rowan had always hated Maeve.
When he was younger, he used to have nightmares of Maeve as an old witch who lived deep in the woods, eating children, like the one from Hansel and Gretel. As he grew older, he felt foolish for ever feeling such a thing, but now, he was right back to imagining her as his living nightmare.
His head hurt, dominantly from the gash on the side of his head. His vision was blurred, blood trailing down his chin. He was fairly certain he had lost a tooth.
Or two.
He could deal with teeth, though. It was the least of what he was about to lose.
Although he had no idea what time it was, he had caught glimpses of the sun high in the sky as he was dragged out of his room with Aelin and brought into a different one. She had cried, screamed as they took him, but he had told her that he loved her, that he would see her soon.
Even though he had no way of knowing if that were true.
He was tied to a chair, weak, weaponless, waiting.
The walls around him were covered in wallpaper, although the windows had been boarded up. He was somewhere upstairs, somewhere in the main living area. There was an oil lamp on a small table not far from him, but aside from that and his chair, the room was empty.
And the old, Persian rug beneath his feet.
The rug that was splattered with his blood.
He groaned, just wanting it all to be over. Everything had gone on for too long, and he was over it, done.
Waiting was the worst part, and all he had been doing for months now was waiting.
He could hear her slow, steady footsteps before she appeared in the doorway.
“Hello, nephew,” she crooned, meandering inside until she was standing only a few feet in front of him.
“Where’s Aelin?” he asked, although his swollen lips had trouble moving.
“Does it matter?” Maeve asked, shrugging. “Wouldn’t stop crying, though. Had to muffle those sobs before I went insane.”
She cocked her head, her eyes glowing.
She had gone insane long ago.
“She goes home.”
Maeve watched him for a moment in silence before a humorless laugh shook her petite frame. “Are you bargaining with me?”
“Let her go home,” Rowan repeated. “Her, and the baby. Let them go home, safely, and I’ll do whatever you want without a fight.”
The room fell into silence, Rowan’s declaration, his promise, echoing in the minimal space.
“I’m beginning to think you’re delusional,” Maeve said, slowly.
“Aelin,” he repeated, a growl underlying his tone. “Gets to go, unharmed.”
“You’ve repeated that, over and over again,” Maeve said, her pretentious grin disappearing. “It’s growing old.”
“Then agree,” Rowan snapped.
“You see, this is where you’re mistaken,” Maeve began, pacing back and forth in front of him. “You’re not in the place to make a bargain. Either way, you die, and Aelin’s safety means nothing to me.”
“Surely you don’t hate me that much,” Rowan said, meeting her gaze. “Let Aelin go free. Please.”
Please. He was sincere when he said it, a word he had never used sincerely with his aunt before. If he wasn’t tied up to a chair, he would be down on his knees, begging, pleading.
Maeve watched him for a long moment, the room going back into silence. Rowan could hear her men walking around downstairs, their boots heavy on the wooden floorboards.
With every step he heard, his heart beat a little faster.
“Maeve,” he growled, when the silence became too unbearable.
Her eyes darkened as her lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Aelin has already been….released.”
There were a lot of different words Maeve could have chosen, but released was one that confused Rowan, pissed him off.
It was a word that could mean so many different things, but every meaning Rowan thought of only made him feel sick to his stomach.
His jaw locked. “Where is she?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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In the Bleak midwinter {17}
A Throne of Glass Period AU: 1920s.
Summary: 2 years after Arobynn Hammel is killed by Rowan Whitethorn, Maeve has returned from Eyllwe with a vengeance. Meanwhile, Rowan is getting married, Lorcan is a father, and Lysandra is finally ready to give her heart away. There’s been peace in The Cadre’s Orynth for 2 years, but peace never lasts.
A/N: Coming in close to the end!
All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.
**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.
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The Cadre - 1920s AU {TOG}
In the Bleak Midwinter {The Cadre, Part 2}
Aelin didn’t know how long she and Lucy had been in that room, but she knew that she was cold, achy, and terrified. It took a while for Lucy to notice. She was a curious one, and pretty independent, so she could make herself comfortable in most places, especially once they had food. But, now, Aelin was running out of comforting conversation topics to have with a toddler as anxiety and fear thrummed through her veins.
The food they were given hours ago had made her sick, although she tried to keep everything down, for Lucy’s sake. Meanwhile, every horrible outcome of what was taking place outside of the four concrete walls she sat inside had her heart beating faster.
“Ae Ae,” Lucy began, and Aelin looked over at her, trying her best not to cry.
“Yes, Luce?” she replied, quietly.
“Dada,” Lucy whispered, her lip wobbling, but before she could cry, the door was unlocked, and pushed open.
Aelin quickly snatched Lucy up as she stood and held the toddler tightly in her arms.
Cairn stood there, looking as deadpan and serious as ever. “Come with me.”
“Where to?” Aelin asked, not moving a step.
Cairn showed no emotion. “Come with me, or I’ll lock you in here, again. It’s your choice.”
Aelin hated that she didn’t hesitate. Instead, with Lucy in her arms, she followed Cairn out of the little room and through the winding hallways.
The rest of the building wasn’t any better than the little room they had been trapped in. The stone walls continued, and Aelin didn’t feel comforted at all as they followed Cairn through the narrow hallways. Lucy was whining, which didn’t comfort Aelin either. Aelin should have been the one to comfort her but her own nerves were spiraling out of control.
Their walk seemed to last forever, but eventually, they came to a door. Lucy clung to the neckline of Aelin’s dress, and Lucy was grateful for it, it was the only thing that was keeping Aelin connected to reality.
Even though that reality was horrifying.
Cairn pushed open the door and gestured for Aelin to enter. She was smart enough not to fight back or be stubborn, even though she so desperately wanted to both be stubborn and fight back.
Maeve knew it, too, judging by the horrific smile on her red-painted lips as they entered. Aelin, Lucy in her arms, stopped just inside of the door with her chin raised high.
“Mrs. Whitethorn,” Maeve crooned, as Cairn shut the door behind them. “How are you enjoying your stay?”
“Food is shit,” Aelin said, plainly. Lucy’s whines had turned into a silent cry, her face buried into Aelin’s shoulder. “Is my husband on his way?”
Maeve’s eyes narrowed. “To the old train station, yes. In fact, he’ll be leaving that ungodly mansion of yours shortly.”
“Whatever you’re asking him for, he won’t give it to you,” Aelin said, shaking her head, but even as the words left her mouth, she knew she was wrong. For his wife, and his niece, Rowan would give Maeve whatever she wanted.
As her dark eyes lit up, Aelin knew that she knew it, too.
“I plan to test that theory,” she said, at last, her nails clicking on the hard desktop she sat behind. “Cairn.”
Lucy was being removed from Aelin’s arms before she could even have a second thought. The second she was in Cairn’s arms, she was wailing.
“No!” Aelin cried, taking a step forward to fight for her niece back, but a gun was cocked, and Aelin froze.
Maeve didn’t hesitate as she pointed her pistol at Aelin’s head. “One more step, and you die, which would just be awful for all of us, wouldn’t it?”
Aelin put a protective hand over her stomach, then looked at Lucy, who was being held by Cairn at Maeve’s right hand side. Aelin couldn’t help the tears that lined her eyes as she listened to Lucy cry.
“Edward!”
The door opened and a man Aelin had never seen before entered the room and took Aelin’s arms behind her back.
“Fuck you!” Aelin yelled, spitting at Maeve.
The woman snorted and set her gun down on her desk. Then, she nodded her head, and Aelin was hit in the back of the head, the rest of the world going dark around her.
~~~~~
“They’re late,” Lorcan grumbled, his hands opening and closing at his sides.
Rowan pulled the pocketwatch out of his breast pocket. Lorcan was right. It was two minutes past.
“They’ll be here,” he snapped.
Gavriel stood just behind them, watching the other side of the old abandoned platform, waiting, calmly. Fenrys was there, too, his jaw locked. They had left Aedion at home, watching and waiting in case anything happened there. Lysandra was with him, along with a hysterical Natalia.
Just as Rowan’s patience was running short, he saw them coming. A sleek, black car was driving up, followed by one that was nearly identical. Rowan had no doubt to whom the cars belonged to.
No one moved, no one said a word as those cars pulled up to the other side of the broken tracks.
They waited for a moment, and Rowan was about nearly to combust as the door to the first car opened and Cairn came out. He ascended the platform, and met their gazes as he approached.
Alone.
Before Rowan could open his mouth and spit out a retort, Cairn said, “Maeve sends apologies. She couldn’t make it, she was otherwise occupied.”
“Where are they.” It wasn’t a question, but a demand. Rowan’s voice was low, calm. He didn’t want to even start thinking about where Maeve’s attention was.
“Depends which one you’re asking about,” Cairn replied, simply.
Rowan froze, and it was Lorcan that growled, “Stop dancing around the subject, tell us the fucking conditions so we can get on with it.”
Cairn stared at them, perfectly happy with Lorcan’s outburst. It’s why he let the silence ensue before saying, “Mr. Whitethorn comes with me.”
Gavriel’s shoulders tensed as Fenrys snorted. Lorcan had begun to say no, but Rowan interrupted them all, saying, “And Lucy and Aelin come back?”
“I have Lucy in the car,” Cairn replied, simply, and when he didn’t go on, Rowan asked, “And my wife?”
Cairn just smiled, slowly.
“Well?” Rowan asked, after Cairn said nothing.
“Lucy comes back to you now,” he said, quietly. “Aelin will be sent back to the estate when Rowan is safely delivered to Maeve.”
“No,” Lorcan breathed, even though Rowan knew it hurt him to say it. “We find another way.”
“Lucy needs to be safe now,” Rowan said, quietly. “And Aelin needs to be safe now. I’ll be fine, and I’ll figure something out, but they need to be home, where I know they’re okay.”
Lorcan stilled, but Rowan said, “Bring Lucy to Lorcan and I’ll come willingly.”
“That undoes everything that we’ve fought for so far,” Fenrys muttered.
Rowan closed his eyes, knowing full well he was thinking of Connall. But Rowan wouldn’t have another death on his hands. Not his niece. Not his wife. He was done watching those he loved die, those that his family loved die.
He was over it.
Done.
Cairn waved a hand and the door to the second car was opened. A man in a suit came out, carrying Lucy, who was looking around with big, round eyes. The moment she spotted Lorcan, she began to cry, scream for him, but the second Lorcan took a step toward her, a gun was pointed at him.
So he stilled, and waited, even though it killed him to do so. The second Lucy was in his arms, though, he was clinging onto his daughter for dear life.
“Dada.” She wept his name, and if Rowan had any sort of hesitation, Lucy’s little voice pushed him over the edge. Without looking back at his men, he took a step toward Cairn, then another, and another.
Before anyone could say anything otherwise, Rowan was shoved into a car and being driven away from the abandoned train tracks.
Toward his aunt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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