Happy first day of Rowaelin Month! I’m so excited to participate this year, you have no. idea. Let me just say, this, more than anything I’ve ever posted, is my biggest love letter to writing and to you guys. The 40s time era is extremely personal to me, and when I write it, I hope you know my whole heart is in it. I hope you enjoy some of the only pure fluff you’re ever gonna get from me. As always, much, much love- Magee
Based on Julie London’s I’m Glad There Is You
TW: Mentions of nightmares, brief mention of war
Carolina, 1948
Aelin’s fingers shook slightly as she lowered the arm of the record player onto the record. She had flicked on a lamp, and lit a candle in their living room. Her neighbor, Elide, had lent her a pan to cook dinner with, and the warmth of the oven seeped through her shaking frame.
She had to breathe in and out, hand on her stomach, to remind herself that everything was just so. Aelin stood in the middle of the living room, watching the front door, the walls of her and her husband’s quaint home close together. Her heart ached at the memory of the day she and Rowan had put up the floral wallpaper.
Kingsflame, he had whispered in her ear, for you, Fireheart. She had turned around in his strong arms, bringing his mouth to her’s. She had thanked him thoroughly, their happiness tinging the few pieces of furniture they’d had.
Rowan had wasted no time, had promised to marry her at eighteen and got on one knee four days after her own eighteenth birthday. They’d bought this house with stars in their eyes, with the little inheritance money she’d been given by her parents after their too quick death. Her small town had been so kind to her those months she spent living with her cousin, offering her a job at the school, forgoing some of the classes she’d promised to take to get there herself.
So tragic, they had whispered. Rowan never liked it when they spoke about her, but she didn’t mind too much. She knew it was all from a good place. Especially when Rowan had been drafted, only a year into their marriage.
She’s only nineteen, all on her own. Let’s hope they have children soon, to keep her company. Such a bright girl, so sad. Let’s pray he comes home.
Even now, so many years later, she couldn’t remember those days when she would hear nothing, would tune into the radio to hear what was happening in Europe. Aelin had asked him, where will you be going? And he said: everywhere.
She died a little, that day he left. She had clutched the picture of their quiet ceremony and sobbed, her in her mother’s simple, pearly white dress, Rowan in the suit he’d taken her to prom in. Aelin hadn’t wanted to go to church in the weeks after, knowing every time she sat in the pews, she’d look up to see the place where they’d kissed and promised each other to whatever end.
It was their saying, after all the tragedy and death they’d seen in their short lives, that they would stick together, through whatever end. He had said it to her after her parents died. She had said it to him when his aunt had gone to prison. He whispered it to her when they’d sat in the hospital, her good friend Nehemia losing the battle with a long time illness. She’d written it in every letter she sent, hoping that her eternal love for him would be able to cross seas.
Now, she waited again, hoping he would be home soon. Lorcan, Elide’s husband, had come home a week ago. A week. And yet her Rowan was still gone. He’d been called seven weeks ago to rebuild in Europe again, moving around and helping people. This was the second time in his three years back from the front lines that he’d been called.
It seemed time was never on their side, because not two weeks into this trip, she had fallen terribly ill. He had gone ballistic in his letters, promising that if anything happened to her without her there, the war would look like a game compared to what he’d do. She’s only written him back, chastising him, telling him that the joke was not funny. He was too protective for his own good. Even before he’d been called for duty.
Men had always been very forthcoming in their advances towards her. She knew she should be more modest, but the leering since childhood had let her know early on that she was beautiful. Her golden ringlets, pretty curves, and what Rowan called her glow- it didn’t exactly lead her to an anonymous lifestyle. Rowan had actually fought a man once, for grabbing her on their way to the theaters. And when he came home… her husband not only had his fair share of her temper, but he also had the strength to be lethal. Her moon eyed Rowan had come back a warrior. And a warrior she’d sure he’d be once he found out the news.
Right. Her news. Anxiety flared in her stomach, and she pressed her pretty pearl ring to her belly. Her red skirt brushed her calves, and her ribbed shirt tucked into it, pressing even more. She’d swept her hair up, and applied a red lip, reminiscent of their first anniversary. By that point, they’d already known he was leaving, so they’d spent the next few weeks celebrating. Much of it was spent in bed, but they’d also gone by the docks for morning picnics and midnight dances.
Rowan and Aelin were nothing if not sentimental. The docks were their home away from Orynth Ave.
She puttered around the house fluffing pillows, and then her own hair. Aelin knew she looked a bit tired, but that was something he would just have to get used to. Gods, she was ready for him to be home. Visions of him bursting through the door to plant a million kisses onto her lips invaded her mind. She wasn’t sure if it was nausea, a hot flash, or just her mind, but her body flooded with heat.
The record stopped, and she flipped it. She’d been standing, waiting, longer than she thought. A song came on, and Aelin could not resist putting a hand on her heart and swaying to the tune. The words made her ache for him.
In this world of ordinary people
Extraordinary people
I'm glad there is you
She pressed her lips into a tight smile, the song making its way into her body, settling her anxieties just a bit.
In this world of overrated pleasures
And underrated treasures
I’m glad there is you
She was so lost in the song, she hardly heard the lock click on the front door. Hardly heard anything until a bag thumped on their wood floors.
Aelin turned in an instant, and seeing him there, relief rushed through her. Tears sprang to her eyes. It’d been too damn long since that tired smile, since those green eyes of his were with her.
“Hi, baby,” he whispered. Fondness filled his eyes.
She launched herself at her husband, and he recoiled from the contact before wrapping his strong arms around her. Aelin was enveloped with his pine and snow scent, and she pressed her face close to his chest.
Her anxieties drained away, and the world was right again. It was just her and Rowan, exactly as they were the night they had met, only sixteen. They had spent the night at a school function, a large boat rented for the dance. But they had only had eyes for each other, her in a tiny velvet blue thing that still hung in her closet today. They had spent the night dancing around each other, making each other laugh even as they disgreed about nearly everything.
“Let me get you something sweet,” she had said to him, a smile on her brightly colored lips.
“I don’t do sweet things,” he had replied. She had found that outrageous, then. But she found it to be a lie hours later, when they had stepped off the boat he had asked her to dance to the sound of the far off music and waves, down on the docks. The boats and stars and night sky had watched them hold each other and promise, right then and there, to never let go.
Since then, she had been smitten with his perfect broodiness. Their hug had turned into swaying, and just like that, they were sixteen again.
I live to love I love to live
With you beside me
Aelin’s face scratched against the stark material of his green uniform, but she paid it no mind as his hands held her waist, as his breath coaxed her ear.
“Did you miss me, Fireheart?”
She held his neck closer, clinging to him. “More than you know.” He smiled against her cheek. They stayed like that for a long time, the song winding around them, peace encompassing her once more.
Even if she knew he had just been sent as aid, to help rebuild, nightmares had plagued her for weeks. Neither of them slept well unless they were tangled around each other. She knew he could use a home cooked meal, a night of her holding him. The first time he had come home, he’d been silent for days, stoic and intense. He had only confided in her once, those early weeks, after he had pushed off her advances. Rowan had told her that he had done things he wasn’t proud of, that he couldn’t say it all, and he did not feel worthy of holding her.
She told him if she wanted a perfect man, she would not have married a man who only drank black coffee. It was the first genuine smile she’d seen from him. They had spent a long, long while healing. Loneliness had crept up on her in his absence, and he had to coax her into spilling her own truths in his return. Her cousin had moved after her wedding. For those months Rowan was gone, Aelin did not confide in anyone but her diary.
When they were learning how to be them again, they would swap journals at night, sit in bed and read until one or both of their words were too sad, and they needed to hold each other again to feel alright again. She and Rowan took turns having nightmares, and she flinch-proofed their home from any sudden loud noises.
It was the same thing she’d done this week, waiting for his return. And now, everything soft, she was ready to tell him the other type of preparation they’d have in store soon.
Aelin picked her head up from his chest, bringing his face down to hers for a soft, slow kiss. Fire burned down her body, an adoration for him so strong she could barely stand it.
He pressed their foreheads together, breathing her in. Her chest beat loud enough in her ears, she was sure he could tell. Sure enough, his forehead creased, and he studied her face before leaning down to press a kiss to her savage, wild heart.
“Why are you so nervous, Fireheart?”
She studied his face, the harsh lines of it, only seeing her moon-eyed sixteen year old first love. Only love. And it brought her enough comfort to calm her nervous heart.
This role so new I'll muddle through
With you to guide me
“Rowan,” she whispered. But her nerves got the better of her, and she instead told him, “I made dinner.”
His expression changed, and he laughed, rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms. It was fall, and she was sure he was going to fuss over her warmth. “Is that why you’re so nervous? Dinner.”
She huffed a laugh onto his chest. But he took her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, and kissed her. They lingered, as if they were so inherently connected that pulling away would be more troublesome than staying together.
But his love gave her courage. He knew her too well.
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered onto his lips.
His eyes widened, and he took a step back, looking at her fully. Her heart beat up again, so loud, even through the peaceful silence of their home. He just… looked at her.
“Rowan?”
He blinked and blinked those green eyes she spent weeks imagining on a newborn.
“Rowan?”
Finally, he released a breath, his statue breaking. She saw tears in his eyes. “Are you serious?” Aelin pressed a hand to her mouth, to overcome to speak. She only nodded. His voice broke, “Aelin.”
Rowan kissed her, kissed her hard and left her breathless before kneeling down to press his wet face to her stomach. “Baby, baby, baby,” he worshiped.
Tears came to her own eyes, as her fingers ran though his cropped hair. She still couldn’t bring herself to speak. It was all working out like it was meant to, all the pain and separation they’d been a part of leading to this.
In this world where many many play at love
But hardly any stay in love
I’m glad there is you
Rowan rose to his feet, hugging her to him. “I love you, Aelin.”
She closed her arms around him, so grateful that the two- that the three- of them were all home, safe. That this is where they would stay.
“I love you, Rowan. To whatever end.”
He pressed a heavy kiss to her lips, her cheeks straining from her smile. They swayed again, caught up in each other and the music and the prospect of their family.
“To whatever end, Fireheart.”
More than ever
I’m glad there is you
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