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Tied Me to You - Prologue:

Seven

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~4.5k words

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!

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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.

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