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A shrieking scream split the silent night air, violently yanking Aelin from the throes of a peaceful sleep.
It made her want to sob.
She thought she was strong enough to keep the sentiment to herself, but it would seem the exhaustion caused by a month's worth of terrible sleep had taken a toll on her. She hadn't been able to hold back the pathetic little whimper that escaped her lips. And it didn’t go unheard.
A distinctly male sigh sounded from beside her, followed by shifting sheets.
"I'll get him, love," Dorian murmured, pressing a kiss to her brow, his beard scraping against her skin. "You rest,"
Aelin barely had the energy to watch as her husband stood from bed, the cold moonlight highlighting the contours of his bare body as he shrugged on a pair of trousers that had been discarded lazily beside the bed.
He had grown into an impressive man since they had gotten married four years ago. Shoulders broader and stronger, more defined jaw, and facial hair, which Aelin had assumed she would hate but she actually liked the ruggedness it added to Dorian's face.
Even through her exhaustion, a pang of love went through her as her husband strode across their bedchamber towards the connecting room. They had grown to love one another over the years. Dorian was a good man, a wonderful husband, and proving himself to be a great father, currently going to soothe their one-month year old son.
Aelin burrowed deeper into the thick quilts. Winter was just beginning in Terrasen and the airs were frigid.
She could hear Dorian attempting to calm down young Edan from the nursery, but he was being fussy, it would seem. Even his father's sweet words couldn't soothe the boy now.
Aelin sighed and threw back the blankets, stepping into her slippers and throwing on a robe over her bare body. As she stepped into the nursery, she lit a fire in the hearth, casting light across the room. Dorian sat in the rocking chair, holding Edan against his chest. His sapphire eyes were apologetic and tired as she came up to him.
"He's probably hungry," Aelin said, voice still rasping from sleep. She reached her arms out, allowing Dorian to place the swaddled babe into them. She lowered herself into Dorian's lap, his arms wrapping around her and tugging her back against him, using his feet to rock them in a comforting, slow motion.
"Is that it? Are you hungry, my little prince?" Aelin murmured to her son as his tiny fists flailed in dainty outrage. She pushed the collar of her robe to the side, leading him to her breast and urging him to latch on. The moment he did, his piercing shrieks stopped.
She and Dorian breathed sighs of relief in unison.
"Even though he won't let us sleep through the night," Dorian's voice rumbled from behind her. "I still love him more than anything,"
"Me too," Aelin whispered, running her fingers through the small tuft of dark hair on his head. Edan truly was her joy. She would protect him to her dying breath.
"I hope we'll manage a bit more rest before all of our guests arrive," Dorian commented, running his knuckles over the curve of his son's cheek.
"Gods, so do I," Aelin sighed.
Within the week, Orynth would be bursting with guests prepared to meet the young prince, the heir of two powerful kingdoms and equally powerful magic users. Dorian's family from Adarlan would come, as would Chaol and Yrene and their young daughters. Nehemia would be traveling from Eyllwe, and even some of Aelin's cousins from Wendlyn. Yes, the fortress would be much too busy to survive on a few hours of sleep.
Edan’s lips unlatched, apparently sated for now. His eyes cracked open, looking up at his mother with matching Ashryver eyes. He gave her a gummy smile that practically made Aelin’s heart melt in her chest.
“Oh, you think waking mama and papa up in the middle of the night is funny?” Dorian teased. “I can already tell you’re going to be a handful, just like your mother,”
Aelin dug her elbow into Dorian’s stomach. “As if you’d have me any other way,”
A chuckle came from her husband before he pressed a tiny kiss to her bared shoulder. “You’re right. As always,”
Aelin watched as Edan lifted his tiny hands up, grabbing towards the pendant that swung from her neck. The pedant that Rowan had gifted her all those years ago. Her son had a penchant for the tiny charm, always taking it into his hands, and subsequently into his mouth, whenever it was in his reach.
In the four, nearly five years now, since Rowan had left, Aelin had managed to keep her thoughts of him to a minimum. It had hurt more than she could say in those first few months. Aelin couldn’t pinpoint the moment when she finally managed to let him go, but she would guess it was a few weeks after she had been married to Dorian. She hadn’t forgotten Rowan, couldn’t even if she had wanted to. Rather, Aelin had accepted her future with her new husband.
Half a year after they had been married, Aelin had told Dorian the truth about Rowan, about who he had truly been to her. Her husband had held her as she shed tears, comforted her when she needed it. It had been good to finally admit it aloud. It felt like closing one chapter, and opening another.
By the end of the year, Aelin had felt her feelings towards Dorian shift. Soon enough, it had become love.
It didn’t touch what she had felt for Rowan, but she knew nothing had, and nothing would. But, she was happy. She had been crowned queen not long after they had been married, and now they spent most of their time in Terrasen. Dorian hadn’t seen his family in a while, and it would be their first time meeting his son.
Aelin softly sang an old, Terrasenian lullaby her mother had once sang to her. It was an ethereal, flowing melody in the Old Language. She didn’t know what all of the words meant, but Aelin could understand enough to tell it was an old tale of devotion.
Edan’s wide eyes slowly began to droop shut until he had fallen back asleep in his mother’s arms. Aelin carefully stood, walking delicately as to not wake the babe as she strode over to the crib and placed him down.
She stood there for a few moments, just looking down at her son’s sleeping face, resting her hands on the solidly carved pine of the crib.
“Goodnight, my little prince,” Aelin whispered, running the tips of her fingers through Edan’s hair. Before she knew it, it would be full and thick. Just like his father’s.
Dorian’s hand hooked around her waist. “Let’s go back to bed, love. Your cousins will be here tomorrow morning,”
Even if Aelin wanted to, she didn’t have the energy to argue. Her eyes were practically shutting as her husband took her hand and led her back to their bedchambers. They collapsed back into bed, clinging to one another as they wiggled under the blankets. Their lips barely managed to find one another’s in the dark, indulging in a few slow, lazy kisses. Before Edan had been born, perhaps they would have made love. But time and energy for such activities since their son had been brought into the world were few and far between.
This hadn’t been the future Aelin had envisioned for herself, but despite her reservations to it at first, they had found happiness. And Aelin was content.
…
The next afternoon, Aelin sat beside Dorian, her son in her lap, who was cooing and babbling in joy as she and her husband made funny faces. There was no sound that brought Aelin more joy than the sound of her son’s laughter.
No one made Edan laugh harder than Aedion.
Her cousin was standing across the room with Lysandra, who had been married not long after she and Dorian. His three-year old son was clambering in his arms, reminding Aelin very much of his father. Aedion hadn’t liked sitting still in court either.
To be fair, even now Aelin didn’t love the posturing that came along with court. She and Dorian were seated on their thrones, side by side, both in their finery. Aelin’s dress was elegant and thick, a deep, emerald green with full skirts and a plunging neckline. She wore the antler crown on top of her intricately braided hair. Dorian wore a fine, dark tunic embroidered with silver.
The Great Hall was filled with guests and courtiers.
Edan shrieked in laughter as Aelin peppered kisses over him, from his sweet face to his chubby belly. Dorian reached over, ticking Edan’s sides, making her son’s giggles grow even louder.
It was then that noise from across the hall snatched Aelin’s attention. She looked up from Edan’s rosy face, watching as a small group of people walked in. Aelin immediately clocked their fine clothes of a style that was not of Terrasen. The group was led by a man only a few years older than Aelin, with soft brown hair, olive skin, and bright Ashryver eyes. Galan.
Aelin offered her cousin a grin. They had met once before during her coronation and she found that he was a good man. They could stand to get to know him better, but they were off to a good start.
Aelin welcomed their guests, rising to her feet to greet them. She handed Edan to Dorian, freeing her arms to embrace her cousin.
It was nice introducing Edan to her family. Not to mention amusing to watch the royals and nobility be reduced to nothing but a swooning, cooing mass in the presence of her son. Of course, Aelin’s child would be cute enough to hold such power. It wasn’t surprising in the slightest.
Edan at first adored the attention he was receiving, tugging on hair, jewelry, and other adornments, ogling all of the new faces around him. Aelin answered questions about the pregnancy, explaining that the birth had been difficult, but she had been lucky. It wasn’t nearly as bad as her own mother’s had been.
“Are you going to have more children?” Galan’s wife, Vanya, asked, bouncing Edan in her arms.
Aelin glanced up at Dorian. Her husband had a sweet, serene smile on his face, his hand a steady weight on her waist.
“One day, we’d like to have more,” Aelin explained. “But, not for a good while. Edan’s still a handful,”
“Just wait until he starts walking,” Vanya laughed. “Then it gets even harder. But treasure him while he’s still so small. I miss when mine were so young,”
Her daughter was about three, and was currently playing with Aedion’s son in the corner, stealing sweets when they could. Gods, once Edan was thrown into the mix, they would have a palace full of young hellions.
The greeting and entertaining went on for another half an hour before Edan began to get fussy. Most likely tired and hungry. He had a busy day, to be fair. It was best to get him to his nap before he threw a fit.
“I’m going to go put him down for his nap,” Aelin said, taking Edan into his arms.
“Do you need a hand?” Dorian asked.
“No, I’ve got it. You handle it here, yeah?”
“Whatever you need, my love,” Dorian said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Let me know if you need anything,”
Aelin held Edan to her chest and swept from the Great Hall. She pressed kisses under his ear, where he was so sweet and soft. Said ear was still rounded, but Aelin wondered if her son would get the ability to shift. The magic that people were so curious about wouldn’t manifest until he was older. Aelin couldn’t help but wonder if he would get her flames, or Dorian’s raw magic, or maybe a mix of both. Would his Fae blood allow him to shift?
Whatever happened, Aelin would teach him everything she knew of magic, of swordplay as well. She knew Aedion couldn’t wait to begin teaching all of their children combat.
The halls were rather empty, most people were mingling in the Great Hall. Aelin figured she wouldn’t encounter anyone as she made her way to her chambers.
But something made her steps falter.
There was a strange sensation in her chest, a tug, almost. It was a feeling that Aelin hadn’t experienced in years, but the way her magic jumped was unmistakable. She froze, straining her ears. Nothing she could hear, but when she scented the air… pine and snow. That was the scent of Terrasen’s air but…
Her magic seemed to urge her to turn around, and Aelin couldn’t find it within herself to refuse. She turned heel, eyes wide as she looked down the hall, immediately locking in on the solitary figure that stood there.
Aelin’s heart skipped a beat as she took in the staggering height, the broad shoulders, silver hair bright in the afternoon sun. Her lips parted as her gaze swept over the tattoos sprawling down the left side of his face, and her eyes locked with his pine green ones.
The air was immediately stolen from her lungs with a shuddering gasp.
Because Rowan Whitethorn was standing before her.
Aelin nearly couldn’t believe her eyes, that maybe her imagination was fooling her. But no, it was him. Almost exactly as she remembered.
He still wore that drab, warrior garb that she had teased him so much about in the past. His hair had grown out again, nearly as long as it had been when Rowan had first come to Terrasen, tied back in a strap of leather.
“Rowan?” Aelin rasped, daring a step forward.
There was a tense sort of pain on Rowan’s face, but he managed a smile. “Hello, Aelin,”
Her heart was racing in her chest, so loud that she knew Rowan could hear it. There were millions of conflicting emotions swirling through her it was nearly overwhelming. Aelin swallowed hard, trying to banish the lump that had crawled into her throat.
“What… what are you doing here?” Aelin asked, hoping her voice was stronger than she truly felt.
Rowan took a few, slow steps forward, as if he were unsure how to approach her. “I was in Galan’s court, training some of his guards, when he was set to come here. Your cousin invited me, to keep an extra eye on his wife and daughter. And… against my better judgements, I wanted to see you again,”
Aelin wasn’t sure what to think, what to say. So rarely in her life had she been rendered speechless, but such a surprise was warranted to do just that.
Aelin had resigned herself to the fact that she would never see Rowan again. As much as it hurt, she had accepted it and had learned how to go on with her life. But now he was here, standing so casually in the halls in which she had fallen in love with him.
“You look…” Rowan whispered, shaking his head softly. “You look just as beautiful as I remembered. As I dreamed,”
Aelin felt her eyes begin to burn at his words. “And you’re still wearing those gods-awful warrior tunics, so I guess not much has changed,”
Rowan let out a bark of laughter, but his eyes flashed towards the little bundle of blankets in her arms. “Some things have changed…”
Aelin looked to Edan, threading her fingers through his dark hair. “Do… do you want to meet him?”
Rowan nodded.
Aelin shifted her son, cradling him in her arms, and stepped closer to Rowan, close enough to feel the heat of his body. Edan’s eyes were wide and looking curiously at Rowan, tiny hands reaching up towards him. Rowan smiled, a sight that made Aelin’s pulse with a love that had never truly faded. He held out a finger, allowing Edan to clutch it in a little fist.
“Hello, there,” Rowan whispered. “What’s his name?”
“Edan,” Aelin explained.
“He's strong. And he had your eyes,” Rowan commented, looking away from the babe and meeting her gaze. “He’s beautiful, Fireheart. You must be so proud,”
“Edan is my heart,” Aelin murmured. “I love him more than life,”
They lapsed into silence, allowing Edan’s coos and gurgles to fill the air. He seemed to be fascinated with the Fae warrior.
“Aelin…” Rowan’s voice was so soft that Aelin could have imagined it. He straightened, brows pinched together slightly. “I- I have to know… are you happy?”
The question caught her off guard. But, it was understandable that he would want to know, would have wondered. Aelin couldn’t imagine what it had been like for him, to hear about how her life had progressed through second-hand sources, to never know what was true and what was fabrication. It must have been hell for him, to learn about the engagement, the marriage, the baby… Aelin hadn’t heard a word about him. It had been a small blessing. She was sure it would have hurt more to hear stories of him instead of actually being with him.
“Yes,” Aelin uttered. “I am happy. Dorian… he hadn’t been who I wanted to marry, but I’ve grown to love him. He’s been a wonderful husband and a fantastic father to Edan and…”
She didn’t know what else to say. Her vision blurred with tears that she was trying her damndest not to shed.
“Good…” Rowan said. “Good. You should be happy, Fireheart. You deserve it,”
“What about you, Rowan? Are you happy?”
The Fae prince tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I will be, Aelin. I will be,”
Against her better wishes, hot tears began to drip down her cheeks. Her shoulders trembled with the sobs she tried to keep at bay. She felt Rowan reach out, calloused fingers tenderly brushing away her tears.
“Please be happy, Rowan,” Aelin said, her voice painfully raw. “I need you to be happy,”
“Don’t worry about me, Fireheart. Worry about your kingdom and Edan and your husband… I’ll be okay,”
He was trying to console her, but it wasn’t working. She would worry about him, would think about him everyday as she already did.
“I was blessed by the gods to be able to see you again, Aelin,” Rowan whispered. “To be able to meet Edan… I will never stop being thankful for this moment,”
“I miss you,” Aelin admitted. “Everyday, I miss you,”
“And I miss you. I will miss and love you until my dying breath,” Rowan’s fingers skimmed tiny circles on her flushed cheeks. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering longer than most would. But they weren’t most people. Rowan pulled back, and Aelin’s heart broke at the devastation on his face. “Goodbye, Aelin. I will see you again in the next life,”
And just like that, there was a flash of bright, white light, and Rowan was gone.
Aelin let her tears fall and she pulled Edan to her chest, holding her son close to her. It was a comfort to hold him, to love him, when her own heart was in shambles. She sniffed and turned, trying to brace herself, to force some strength into her body and her heart.
It stung that he was gone just as suddenly as he had appeared. Though, Aelin knew that Rowan hadn’t popped in on a friendly visit, to chat and reminisce. He had come to ease his troubles, to answer the questions that no doubt had been plaguing him since they had separated. He had come to ensure that Aelin was truly happy in her new life.
A life that Rowan knew that he had no place in anymore.
“Let’s get you to sleep, my little prince,” Aelin whispered to Edan, starting in the direction of her chambers. It was for her son’s benefit as much as her own. She needed time to recoup from the war of emotions storming through her chest. Aelin wouldn’t be mingling again tonight, she would send word to Dorian as soon as possible.
It had been a blessing to see Rowan again, to know that he was safe, to feel his touch, one more time. She would treasure these moments until she drew her last breath. It had truly been a gift from the gods, the last gift of that kind.
Because deep in her heart, Aelin knew she wouldn’t see Rowan Whitethorn again in this lifetime.