Rowaelin in Adarlan

Part 1

It was funny, how after months of being apart, they still fit together like matching puzzle pieces.

Aelin had received word from Rowan after her letter had been sent to Wendlyn, saying that he was coming to Adarlan, coming back to her. That had been a week prior. A week too long, it seemed. The gods knew, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was not a particularly patient woman.

When he had arrived, in his hawk form no less, Aelin had to physically restrain herself from jumping on him immediately. Of course, the sounds that had escaped up her throat had caused Aedion, Chaol and Ren to come charging into her room, wondering what the hell was going on.

They had found her pressed up against the Fae prince, both crushing each other in a tight embrace-as if to erase the time that they spent apart. And Rowan did not allow his usual hesitation towards physical affection stop him from molding Aelin's body to his, and breathing her now too familiar scent in. He had missed her-his carranam-this queen of ash and fire.

Now came the explaining...

"Aelin..." her cousin started when she finally pulled away from Rowan, his pine and snow scent lingering. Filling up the hole in her soul that had opened up during their separation, her body a pine and snow filled vessel-stuffed to the brim, and waiting to explode. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed him, missed even the smell of him. He smelled like home.

"Oh," she said, unsure of how to explain Rowan-a Fae prince, no less-to Aedion. "This is Rowan." Aelin paused, lost on how to continue-unsure of how to explain her bond and relationship with Rowan to her cousin.

"He's my..." Aelin hesitated, looking towards Rowan, his pine green eyes pinned on hers. They seemed to urge her to continue, seemed to encourage and strengthen. But how could she tell Aedion that he no longer could claim the title of being the first member of her court? The title that he had knowingly and wrongfully claimed and adored, no less.

Thankfully, Rowan finished for her. "I trained Aelin whilst she was staying in Wendlyn."

Chaol's gaze cut to hers when Rowan spoke, accusingly, almost as if he didn't trust the words that came from Rowan's mouth. That could have very well been the reason Chaol was staring at Rowan, but Aelin knew that the additional Fae presence in Rifthold was making Chaol uncomfortable.

Even if they had managed to eliminate one of the towers, with the witches helping them take down the other two, it still left all of their magic a little weakened. Aelin had just been glad that she could assume her role as Queen. A Queen without a throne, a Queen with trapped subjects, but a Queen nonetheless.

And Aelin swore to the gods, to anyone up there who was willing to listen, that she would free Terrasen-free her people-from the clutches of Adarlan. She would free Eyllwe too; free the entirety of Erilea, if she could. The scar on her palm, now joined with her bond to Rowan, was a constant reminder. Nehemia did not die in vain. Aelin would see her dreams-her wishes-become a reality. She owed it to her friend-to her country, to all those who had suffered because of her.

Aedion stepped forward, subconsciously puffing his chest out-an attempt to intimidate the Fae warrior. Not that he really needed to, not when Aedion was almost as tall as Rowan. Rowan-a few inches taller-found it slightly amusing that Aedion found him threatening enough to actually puff his chest out. Rowan's knowledge about Aedion, Aelin's childhood friend-her only friend, if Rowan had remembered correctly-was limited, but he was impressed, from the little that he knew. That is, if the ridiculous expression on Aedion's face could be classified as impressive.

"Rowan, this is my cousin Aedion. I've told you about him." Aelin rubbed the back of her neck nervously, watching Rowan for a reaction, and almost sighed in relief when he gave Aedion an approving nod. Aedion didn't seem to comprehend Rowan's gesture, but he seemed particularly intrigued that Aelin had even mentioned him to this Fae prince. She almost wanted to laugh at how strange they all looked, standing in her room, the men all facing eachother, nervous and unsure of how to proceed.