Alex: Fuck You Henry And Your Stupidly Soft Looking Hair And Stupidly Sharp Jawline And Stupidly High

Alex: fuck you Henry and your stupidly soft looking hair and stupidly sharp jawline and stupidly high cheekbones and stupidly good looks and natural elegance and rich white privilege I’ll never have because I wasn’t born into money and status like you and fuck you for looking down on me because of that or whatever even though I’ve wanted to meet you for years and still want you to notice me FUCK

Henry: oh how I long to live a humble life outside of this gaudy castle built off of centuries of genocide in which I write books and poems and use my portion of the crown’s money that I didn’t ask for to give reparations to those my family has hurt and provide shelter for those without a home while living with the man of my dreams, Alex, who hates me for some reason

just looking at them gives me a toothache

firstprince so gay for each other they can't even sit straight

Henry: I have high standards.

Alex:

Henry: Oh no, he is meeting all my standards.

Ok time to go cry now

Heya, absolutely love your writing!😍I was just wondering when you have the time and all, would you consider writing something about rowaelin where basically the same thing happens to Aelin as it did Lyria, but only modern au (Lyria never happened).

Thanks so much, it means a lot that you like my stuff!  Thanks for the prompt.  It kinda got away from me… I got in pretty deep with plot points and stuff, haha.    Based on Characters from the Throne of Glass series.

Warning: don’t let the first half fool you, there’s gonna be tears and pain.

#

All My Love

It started at seven fifty-nine on a Friday night.

Rowan Whitethorn was hurrying through the City Park cursing at the crowds of people standing in his way.  He should have remembered that the city tradition of open mike night at the gazebo by the waterfront would have made the park nearly impassible.  But did people have to stand so close together?

He’d gotten of late from his at the police station and was a short walk away from his small apartment.  Or what would have been short had the park not been infested with tourists and and locals alike.

The sun barely began its descent leaving the sky graced with gold and hues of pink.  Heat from the record high day lingered, despite being so near the lake.  Normally Rowan might enjoy the view, but there were too many people invading his space.  At least he could be happy that he wasn’t assigned the shift to make sure things didn’t get out of hand.

He moved down the stone path that cut behind the gazebo and took a shortcut back to his apartment.  As he dodged a running child, however, something caught his attention.

Actually, it was someone.

She stood in the center of the gazebo; her long and willowy limbs were leaning against a white piano while she laughed at something her companion said.  Her long, golden hair swept down her back in soft waves.  Even a distance he could tell she was beautiful.  The woman patted her friend on the shoulder and moved to sit at the piano.  And then she started to play.

The notes were slow, soft, gentle.  A tune tumbling forth with careful measure.  The song wasn’t one Rowan recognized, granted he knew next to nothing about music.  Yet the longer Rowan listened the more entranced he became by the song.  Slowly, he picked his way around the gazebo so he had a better angle on the woman as she played.

The sight was indescribable.  In all honesty, it looked like the woman had become one with the music.  She moved with each caress of the ivory keys as though she herself were dancing to the song.  Her eyes shut softly and an easy smile moved across her sinful mouth.

It was glorious.

When the end of the song regretfully came, the park erupted into cheers and applause.  A man came forward and began speaking into a microphone setup.

“The ever wonderful, Aelin Galathynius,” the man called out, his words were eaten by another round of applause.

Aelin.  Aelin.  Aelin.

She offered the crowd a dazzling smile as she politely declined to play another song.  A small band replaced her, three guys and a rustic looking guitar.

Rowan watched as she descended the small steps to the gazebo.  She greeted a few people with a wave or a pat on the shoulder.  All too soon, in Rowan’s opinion at least, she was forgotten to the new beats of a guitar and low gravely notes of the singer on stage.

There was something about her that called to him.  Rowan didn’t know what it was exactly, but his eyes easily tracked her as she moved up the path that led away from the gazebo and up a boardwalk that wrapped around the lake.  Before he could think twice about what he was doing, Rowan followed her.

He caught up easily to her and his steps on the wooden planks caused her to turn around and meet his gaze.  Her wide blue and gold eyes snagged him immediately and Rowan wouldn’t have minded drowning in them.

A slow smile slid on her lips as she eyed him. “Hello.”

She was confident.  With that smile.  With that word.  With that stare.  And Rowan found himself dumbfounded.

“You don’t usually play on open mike nights,” he said.

Aelin quirked an eyebrow. “You sound certain of that.”

“I would have remembered,” he replied.

She laughed and rolled her eyes as if his words didn’t mean anything.  But Rowan noted the soft blush rising on her cheeks.  She was flattered.  Slightly uncomfortable, but that could have been from performing in front of a crown.  Everything else about her welcomed his advances and Rowan took care to read each and every signal she sent him.

“Dorian forced me into it,” she said, “told me it would be good business for the shop.”

The way she casually referenced the mayor didn’t go unnoticed to Rowan, but he found himself more intrigued by the second part of her sentence. 

“Shop?”  

“Queen’s Place,” Aelin replied, “my bookshop.  And where I teach piano lessons.”

Rowan found himself smiling at the image of her moving through a bookshop, of her sitting with children at a piano bench, at that smile brightening everyone’s day.  

“I walk by it every day,” he said.  He wasn’t lying, but to be honest he’d never given the shop a second glance.  What a fool he’d been.

“Well, now you have a reason to actually come in.”  

#

Waking up beside her was the one thing Rowan knew he would want to do for the rest of his life.

Curled on her side with her legs tangled in his sheets, Aelin slept soundly.  Her hair was a mess and that was entirely his fault.  As were the growing marks on her neck, her collar bone, lower, lower they descended.  

Leaning up on an elbow, Rowan watched her sleep as the early gray light of morning filtered through his bedroom window.  She didn’t stir.  He watched the rise and fall of her chest, how her eyelids fluttered, and the slight pucker of her lips.  

Those sinful lips.

Rowan reached a hand out and gently brushed her hair out of her face.  

They hadn’t been together very long.  Not when you considered how often Rowan worked and the fact that Aelin ran her own business.  They were often like ships in the night.  But each time they passed by Rowan was filled with inexplicable joy.

Aelin sighed softly and reached a hand out.  Rowan captured her hand with his and brought her fingertips to his lips, kissing softly.  A slow, lazy smile spread on Aelin’s mouth and she cracked an eye open.

“Are you watching me?” she asked.

“Naturally,” he said.  He grinned as she scrunched her nose and grumbled.  When she tried to regain her hand, he tightened his grip and pulled her closer to him.

Humming happily, Aelin tilted her head up to accept a kiss.  A long, deep kiss to be sure.

“I love this,” she murmured against his lips.

“What?” he asked, his hands trailing down her bare sides.

“Waking up with you,” she said.  She threaded her fingers in his hair as she pressed closer to him.  “Mornings like this.”

It was the closest they’d ever come to admitting their feelings.  Even though Rowan was certain he was in love with her.  He had been from the moment he saw her in the gazebo playing the piano.  He wanted to tell her of course.  Wanted her to know.  But he also knew what was keeping him from doing so.

His phone buzzed on the bedside table and Aelin cursed into his mouth.  Rowan swallowed the word, absorbing the disappointment it held before pulling away to check the message.

“Work,” he said.

“I know.”

Rowan looked down at her with her eyes closed and hair a halo on the pillow.  He wanted more than anything to make sure he’d always wake up beside her.

#

Maeve Valg was not the kind of person Rowan wanted to work for.  It took him a long time before he figured out what it was about her that made him so uneasy.  She was driven, dead strong, passionate--all good things.  It took him entirely too long to see her cruelty, her pride, her bloodlust.

“All I’m saying Detective,” Maeve said as she leaned across his desk toward him, “is that your skills and specialties are remarkable.  You’d make a difference to your country if you’d consider my offer.”

Rowan stared at the woman.  She had to be in her mid to late thirties--and yet her long dark hair framed a youthful face, full red lips, and devilish eyes.  This was the third time in as many months that Maeve had tried to recruit him for her independent security agency.  Mostly because his former sergeant Gavriel--damn him--had recommended Rowan for the position.

“I’ll think about it,” Rowan lied.

In all honesty, right now was not a good time to even consider changing jobs.  Not when there was a ring burning a hole in the side table of his dresser.  Not when he’d spent the last four months convincing Aelin to move in with him.  Not when he’d just left her side barely an hour ago and he was already craving her touch, her taste, everything about her.

It wasn’t until later that night when Rowan met Aelin at that fateful gazebo that he was finally able to push all thoughts of Maeve aside.  When he was finally able to smile freely at the sight of her in a pale blue dress that clung to each and every one of her curves.

“Hey,” she said as he approached.

Whatever else she’d been about to say was cut off when he pulled her into a kiss.  His mouth slanted almost urgently against hers and he couldn’t help the way his finger dug into her waist desperately.

“Hey,” he said when he finally pulled back.

Aelin grinned wickedly and he knew she was thinking about breaking into the nearest boathouse to continue that kiss.  But all too suddenly her expression turned serious.

“What?” Rowan asked, heart stilling.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

Rowan froze, terrified that she knew about the ring. “I don’t--”

“Lorcan told me about Maeve,” Aelin continued.  She rested a hand on his cheek. “Rowan...that job sounds amazing.”

Blinking, Rowan fought against the rising panic in his gut.  He really wanted to find Lorcan and beat his ass, but he was also concerned by what Aelin thought about it.

“I’m not taking it,” he said flatly.

Aelin scowled. “Yes you are.  It’s higher pay for one.  Better control over your work.  Most of it sounds like a security detail.”

“I’m not taking it,” he repeated.

“Babe,” Aelin insisted, “it sounds like a great opportunity.  Why not?”

Rowan shook his head and pulled away from her.  This wasn’t how he wanted to do this.  Not really.  But with the sharpness to her eyes, the determined tilt of her chin--he had to do it.

“Because of you,” he whispered.

“Don’t,” Aelin said, “don’t put this on me.”

Rowan reached out automatically and grabbed her hands tightly in his. “It’s always been because of you.”

And then he was down on one knee while fumbling in his pocket for the ring.  

Aelin gasped and whispered his name.

Rowan looked up at her, the ring in his fingers and tears brimming in his eyes. “I first saw you here.  And I knew then and there that I was going to love you for the rest of my life.  If you let me.  Aelin Galathynius, will you marry me?”

She let out a small strangled noise that was a cross between a sob and something else that Rowan couldn’t decipher but the frantic bob of her head was enough for him to understand what the answer was.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she whispered.

Rowan slid the ring on her finger and his lips on her mouth.

#

When Rowan took the job he still wasn’t sure about it.  But most of his friends were on the crew along with two kids who had just come back from Pakistan.  They were given weeks on end together to learn how they could become a team.

Aelin liked to joke that Rowan had gained five work wives now.  Rowan tried to tell her she was wrong but his words held no meaning.  Not when five out of seven days a week any of the boys in the crew ended up sleeping on the Whitethorn-Galathynius couch.  Usually Fenrys.

Unfortunately those nights grew few and far between as the year went on.

“How does Aelin feel about you spending your honeymoon with us?” Connall asked through an earpiece as they stood stationed around Senator Erawan’s reelection fundraiser.

Rowan could hear the grin in his voice.

“Yeah,” Fenrys added, “didn’t even have time to--”

“Stop talking.” It was Gavriel who spoke this time.  Rowan could see him across the hall walking behind the Senator and his wife. “Especially about my niece.”

The twins cackled.

Rowan shook his head and contained a smile.  As much as he’d been unsure about this job--it had given him some of the best friends he knew.

A gunshot rang out through the hall.

Immediately Rowan had his gun unholstered and turned to the source of the shot.  Out of his peripheral vision he saw Gavriel and Vaughn cover the senator and his wife.  Lorcan cursed over the comms.

“Lost him!”

“Got it,” Rowan replied.  Up on the second floor, a glass balcony overlooked the rest of the hall and a shape darted out of eyesight.  Running to the nearest stairwell, Rowan instructed his team on what he saw.

“Wait for backup,” Gavriel ordered, but Rowan was already gone.

#

He arrived home three days later to a royally pissed off Aelin.

Rowan knew it was bad when he walked into the kitchen to find three perfectly frosted chocolate cakes sitting out of the counter.  One had strawberries lining the top, another almonds, and the third a chocolate cookie crumble.  He was utterly screwed.

“Fireheart?” he called out hesitantly.

He heard the bathroom door shut down the hall and Aelin stalked toward him.  Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and bright red splotches colored her cheeks.  Tears rimmed her eyes.

“Baby,” Rowan said as he stepped toward her.

She shook her head and walked around him to the cakes.  There was already a piece missing from the one with strawberries and she cut another piece off and flopped it on a plate.  

“I am so mad at you,” she said as she stuffed a large bite in her mouth.

“I know,” Rowan replied.

“Fenrys told me what you did.  Gavriel told you to wait and you went charging after the man.”

“I know.”

“You could have died.”

“I know.”

Aelin nearly broke the plate when she threw it down on the counter.  Rowan stared into her brilliant eyes and waited for his next reprimand. “Stop saying that.”

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Rowan said quietly.  He set his bag on the floor and crossed into the kitchen until he stood across from his wife. “We both knew what the job entailed.  And I had to catch the man.

“I was terrified Ro,” Aelin whispered.  She ran her fingers beneath her eyes and sniffed loudly.  “We can’t lose you.”

“I know,” he said, moving so he stood just before her.  He was going to say something else when Aelin’s words caught up to him.  “We?”

Aelin let out a strangled laughing as fresh tears washed down her cheeks.  She looked up into Rowan’s eyes, one hand going to her belly.

“We.”

#

Despite the chaos of his job and despite the chaos of his pregnant wife--Rowan Whitethorn knew that everything was going to work out in the end.  

With Aelin being nearly eight months along, they’d decided together that it would be best to start over.  For Rowan to leave his risky job behind and find something closer to home.  They’d both spent weeks thinking about it, talking to each other, and they’d come to the same conclusion.  They needed their family to stay together.

Of course, Maeve didn’t understand why Rowan would want to leave.  Not that he could make her understand.  Not that any of them could.  Even the rest of the team had understood the decision.  Rowan needed his family.

“Fine,” Maeve relented one day.  She sat behind her desk looking absolutely bored one day.  Running her hands over her desk she sighed. “I’ll let you go, Rowan.  But I just need you for one more job.”

Rowan stiffened at the sheer pleasure in her eyes of what was to come.  She tossed a folder at him.  He opened it and frowned.

Archer Flynn.  

A high end hooker for hire.  Known especially for sleeping with Senator Erawan.

“I need him arrested,” Maeve said.  She sounded as though she were requesting he buy lettuce from the store.

Rowan continued staring at the picture of the man. “I thought we were keeping an eye on Cairn.”

“Don’t worry about Cairn,” Maeve said.  “Mr. Flynn is far more troublesome.  Besides, Cairn is going to be taken care of.”

Rowan didn’t like the dismissive way that Maeve addressed him.  Nor did he like the smile that rested on her lips.

“And just like that,” he said, “ you’ll let me end my contract?”

“Absolutely,” Maeve promised.

For some reason, Rowan believed her.

He left with Lorcan the following day, assuring Aelin everything would be alright.  It was only an arrest after all.

When he and Lorcan found the apartment that was serving as Flynn’s hideout, Rowan should have known something was wrong.

The door was broken in, wood splintered across the floor.  A pool of blood was rapidly growing beneath a form tied to a chair.  Rowan and Lorcan rushed to room to the young Archer Flynn.  His blonde hair was plastered over his brow with a mix of sweat and blood.  The stab wounds in his legs and side were less than ideal.  Looking at all the man’s injuries, Rowan knew there was nothing that could be done for him.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” Lorcan muttered while Rowan continued tending to Flynn’s wounds.

This wasn’t right.  This couldn’t have been right.

When Flynn began to speak, Rowan almost thought it was the man’s dying breath.

“S’lied to me,” Flynn rasped, his words to muffled to understand, “to all of us.”

Rowan lifted the man's chin. “What are you talking about?”

“Cairn was always the problem child,” Flynn whispered.  And then with a final breath--Flynn died.

Rowan let Flynn’s head fall.  What the hell was going on?

His phone rang in his pocket but he ignored it.

“Lorcan, he’s dead,” Rowan called out.  His phone continued ringing.

Lorcan reentered the room, phone pressed against his ear.  The man’s dark eyes were wide and a frown deepened his already deep scowl.

“Lorcan?” Rowan asked.

Clearing his throat, Lorcan shook his head. “We gotta get back home.”

#

Rowan had never liked hospitals.

They were death traps in his opinion.  Everyone he loved would always go in and never come back out.  So for the first time in a very long time, he found himself praying.  Praying that for once, he would be wrong.  That for once, something good would come of the hospital.  That for once, he wouldn’t be left alone.

“She was stabbed multiple times in the chest,” a doctor said, “they’re working on her now.  But you need to prepare yourself.”

They baby.  What about the baby?

The words never left his lips.  He couldn’t bring them too.  Or maybe he did say them and the doctor ignored him.  Either way, Rowan’s mind was churning too much.  Something had gone wrong.

“It was Cairn,” Gavriel said from beside him.

Rowan had no idea when the man showed up but he didn’t really care.  He stared at a wall advertising things for sale and brochures for various recovery programs.

“He got to her somehow.”

Maeve was supposed to take care of the man.  She’d said so.  Rowan didn’t say the words aloud.  They wouldn’t do much good.  Because as much as a bitch Maeve was, there was no way she could have predicted this.  No way she could have known that Aelin would be dying.

And where had Rowan been?  Off doing a damn job that didn’t even need him.

It wasn’t until three o’clock in the morning that Rowan learned that his wife was dead.  The baby too.

It wasn’t until three o’clock in the morning that Rowan allowed himself to cry.  Silent tears.

It wasn’t until three o’clock in the morning that Rowan heard the snip-snip of heels across linoleum.  Echoing through the halls.

“Oh, Rowan,” she crooned. “I am so, so sorry.  You have to know I never imagined this to happen.”

“Do you know where he is?” Rowan asked.

Maeve’s brows shot in the air. “What?”

“Cairn,” Rowan repeated, “do you know where he is?”

A smile spread over Maeve’s cherry red lips. “I promise, I will help you find him.  No matter what it takes.”

It wasn’t until three o’clock in the morning that Rowan said good-bye to his wife and made one final vow to her.

He would never forget.

#

as always, thanks for reading my dears!

tags:  @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire  @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx

How can a human being be so beautiful??? Look at her eyes!!!!