ethereal alli

Everything from the Temple of the Olympian Zeus and Hadrian’s Arch, to the ancient Roman Agora. Her most anticipated site, though, was the Acropolis. She’d climbed the path up towards the top of the raised outcropping and walked through the scattered remains of the ancient architecture. Aelin always loved the Erechtheion with its statued pillars of female figures, all worn from the effects of millennia. The Parthenon, mere feet away, was a sight to see; the massive structure dominated the space. Most of its pillars were still standing, but some had collapsed, were destroyed, or had been taken for the material. Aelin thought the modern construction cranes and tarps covering parts of the building created a very odd-looking juxtaposition.

Sitting on the rooftop overlooking the city, she was watching the Acropolis now. As the night got darker, large lights turned on from where they were planted surrounding its base, creating a glowing spotlight that allowed for the structures to be seen from anywhere in the city.

Her waiter brought over her drink and Aelin spent another half hour admiring the view. She watched as people continued to mill about the city center, not at all deterred by the late hour.

She pulled out her phone and sighed. It was late, and she had to get up early the next morning so she could catch the ferry in time.

She smiled giddily as she thought of what she was doing next. Tomorrow, she would take the ferry from Athens to the island of Santorini.

Aelin had always wanted to see the world, and although her answer to the question ‘where do you want to go?’ was ‘everywhere’, there were a few places she was determined to experience. Santorini was one of them. To be more specific, the city of Oia on the island of Santorini. Something about the way all the white and pastel houses sat on the cliffside by the water had always called to her. She was so excited when she found a small house to rent for the next few days on the island.

But if she wanted to get there then she had to take the ferry, and the trip was long enough—about eight hours on average—that if she missed it then she’d have to wait a day to get another one. And she wasn't going to lose a day in Santorini.

Aelin took one last look at the glowing city, grabbed her purse, and left the rooftop bar to walk back to her hotel.

***

The ship's horn blared again as the group of passengers ahead of him handed the crewmember their tickets.

Rowan made sure he had his ticket ready to go. He hated it when he was held up by someone who had to dig around their bags to find it when they knew they would need it all along. He stepped up and handed it over. The worker scanned it, looked bored, and waved him in.

He hoisted his camera bag higher up on his shoulder and pulled his suitcase behind him with his other hand.

It was early, not even seven in the morning, so he decided to find himself another coffee. It wasn't the first time he’d taken this particular ferry to Santorini. Two years prior, his company sent him here to take pictures for an article about the growing tourism on the island. Apparently, whoever was in charge of his transportation had a deal with this ferry company and assured Rowan that he’d have the same trip.

He’d admit it was nice to have a sense of familiarity. With all the travel he did, the airports, hotels, even the cities, could sometimes blur together. But having something like this, something that he’d seen and experienced before, helped slightly with the disorienting feeling.

Rowan spent his morning at one of the deck’s small cafes, looking through the instructions for his current assignment. He had been sent to the island this time with the order to: ‘Capture an enchanting moment. One that will make people rush to visit the island themselves.’ He scoffed, like that wasn't vague enough.

After getting something to eat for lunch, Rowan glanced at his watch and cursed. He still had several more hours on this boat. Feeling the need to stretch his legs, he grabbed his bags and started a leisurely lap around the ship.

Rowan had walked maybe twenty minutes when a flash of gold caught his eye. For a moment he thought it may have been a light, or someone’s jewelry reflecting the sun, but when he turned back to take a second look, he froze.

He knew that gold. It wasn't jewelry or light—it was hair.

Hair belonging to a woman he had met not once, but twice before. There was no mistaking that particular shade of blonde; it looked like liquid gold when the sun shone on it.

How? How? How in the whole gods damn world was this woman standing here?

Her back was facing him as she leaned over the railing of the balcony to take in the sea breeze. Her face turned a fraction towards the light, and he saw the outline of her profile, dissolving any minuscule hope that he was wrong.

When they met in Iceland in the dingy hotel bar—after their horrible encounter in Florence— he thought it was the strangest coincidence that of all people, of all places, she would be there. But now...again…

Someone bumped into him from behind, muttering in a language Rowan didn't understand, apparently not happy that he had frozen in the middle of the hallway. He stumbled a step, instinctively gripping his camera bag, but the sudden movement caused his suitcase to fall and the handle to clatter loudly on the linoleum floor.

He cursed and leaned down to pick it up, the impatient man already halfway down the hall.

As Rowan straightened up, running a hand through his silver hair, he heard a loud gasp from behind him. Before he could stop himself and flee the other direction, he whirled towards the sound and instantly locked gazes with a set of bewildered, turquoise and gold eyes.

“You!” The woman stood gaping at him in shock. He didn't think he looked any more composed. Before he could say anything—honestly, he couldn't think of anything to say—she blinked rapidly as if trying to see if he was an illusion. When she decided he was, in fact, standing in front of her, she laughed incredulously.

Rowan watched her in disbelief. His mind was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that this was actually happening.

It wasn’t that he never ran into people he’d seen during his travels, but those situations had been different. Either those people had lived in the places he’d returned to, or they were regular travelers who went a specific place year after year, or even people who traveled to where he lived who’d he’d seen somewhere else.

This…this was entirely different.

Neither he nor this woman had any personal connection to any of the places they’d seen each other. And they hadn’t just seen each other in passing, no, they had argued, and yelled, and talked.

There was no fathomable reason as to how they kept crossing paths.

It was one thing to be in the same country at the same time given how often and extensively they apparently both traveled, but to be going to the same island, on the same boat…Rowan couldn’t quite believe it.

She was still laughing moments later, but the sound was more hysterical and dazed than actual amusement. When she recovered, she stared at him for a long moment.

“I need a drink.”

***

Rowan took a long sip from his bottle of the cheap beer they bought from the main deck’s lounge. He shifted in his chair as the woman—he realized he never got her name, or rather, never cared to get it—watched him with narrowed eyes, like if she stared long enough she could figure out whatever trick was being played.

“You know,” she quirked an eyebrow when he jerked, startled to hear her voice, “I was wondering if I’d see you again.”

He looked at her warily. “You were? Twice wasn’t enough for you?”

She snorted. “As much as I adored our time together,” she batted her eyes sweetly, making him scowl as he remembered that she wore the same sickly-sweet expression when she ruined his photo in Florence. She rolled her eyes and kept talking, “it was weird that we met again in Iceland.”

Of that much, he could agree.

“Weird. Insane. Horrible.” He offered.

“Oh my gods, it wasn't like I was overjoyed to see you either.” She scoffed, probably wondering why she was still talking to him. He certainly was questioning his own sanity for choosing to sit here and carry on this conversation.

She went on, “All I meant was that we should have had our little spat in Florence, and then gone our separate ways to never ever see each other again. We should have just been another horrible anecdote for each other. And yet, somehow, we met again in Iceland. Different country. Months later. I didn't even plan to be in that stupid hotel, it was pure chance that I ended up there, and somehow, you were already there.”

Rowan winced, both disturbed and a little comforted that she seemed to be having the exact same thoughts he was about the situation.

“And now, here.” Rowan leaned back in his seat, still staring at her,

She sighed, still looking perplexed, “And now, here.”

He took another drink. “How are you here?”

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.” She said dryly, but took another sip of her drink as well and said, “It's simple, really. I was in Athens, I’m going to Santorini, thus I am on a boat from Athens to Santorini.”

He gave her a flat look and she smirked.

“Let me guess, you’re here for work” she looked pointedly at his camera bag.

Rolling his eyes, Rowan said through clenched teeth, “Yes, I am here for work. Let me guess, you’re traipsing around Europe wherever and whenever you want.”

“One,” she leaned forwards, resting her arms on the table between them, “I’ve been places beyond Europe, asshole. Two, that’s really not the insult you think it is.”

He huffed through his nose, glancing away to watch a group of tourists walk by. And even though this woman irritated him beyond belief, he took the bait.

“Where?”

“What?”

He rolled his eyes again. Gods, he’d done that more in the last twenty minutes than he had since, well, since the last time he saw her, he guessed.

“Where else besides Europe?”

“Oh,” she hesitated, eyes darting across his face like she was trying to see if he was serious or if he was mocking her. He just waited. Then she grinned, “Here, and there. I spent a week down in South Africa, in Capetown, and saw all the Cape penguins."

He raised a brow, "Penguins?"

"Oh yeah, there's tons of South African penguins. It's pretty close to Antarctica, actually." She turned, staring into the distance looking like she was trying to remember something. "Not as close as southern Chile and Argentina, but still close."

He hummed, trying no to sound too interested.

"What about you? Are you confined to Europe or are you sent all over?"

"Confined?" he asked dubiously.

She rolled her eyes, "Does your job" again with the mocking, "only send you around Europe?"

He snorted, "Most of the time, but no. I've been around."

She took another drink and looked at him expectantly.

Drumming his fingers on the table, he tried to think of the last time he'd been sent to a different continent.

"I was in Mexico a few years back, down in Cabo. Not really my scene, but the food was great."

She perked up at the mention of the city.

"I love Cabo." No surprise there, Rowan thought. "Last time I was there, I went skydiving."

And so they went back and forth, exchanging anecdotes from their travels. It seemed this was neutral ground, enough so that didn't yell at each other for the remainder of the ferry ride.

***

“Attention passengers.” A loud, crackling voice thundered through the speaker system. “Docking will begin shortly. Please keep a hold of your belongings and make your way to your designated exit.”

It was as good a reason as any to finish their conversation. They both got up, tossing their bottles in the closest bin.

“Hang on a minute.” She called out as he started walking away. Rowan adjusted his bags and turned back towards her.

“What?”

She smirked and took a step closer to him. “After all this,” she waved her hand in the air, “do I at least get your name?”

He raised a brow at her.

She rolled hers and said, “When I tell my friends this story I’m sure you’d appreciate me referring to you by name and not by some of the more creative titles I’ve thought up.”

He sighed but relented. “Rowan.”

Her smirk turned saccharine, “Rowan, was that so hard?”

When he glowered, she laughed.

“Aelin.” Her grin widened as she said her name. He nodded, doubting he’d forget it.

They both stood there watching the other for a long moment, then they turned and walked off in separate directions.

***

Aelin spent two days exploring the island. She visited the red sand beaches in Akrotiri, and the black sand beaches in Perissa. She made sure to eat at the small, local, family-owned restaurants and tried delicious lamb souvlaki and dolmadakia—lamb kabobs and rice wrapped in grape leaves. She loved being able to immerse herself in the local culture, and food was almost always at the heart of it.

Her second night, while walking the streets of Fira, she found a bar that seemed popular but not too crowded. When she walked up to order a drink she watched as the bartender handed over a baseball helmet to one of the women a few seats down who gleefully put it on. Aelin watched with apprehension as the bartender reached behind him to grab a baseball bat, raised his arms, and swung, hitting the woman squarely on the head. The small crowd around her cheered and the woman removed the helmet with a grin, happily accepting the shot the bartender handed her, free of charge.

When the bartender turned towards Aelin with raised brows, noticing that she watched the previous exchange, he offered her the helmet. After a moment’s contemplation, Aelin grinned.

“Fuck it.” She took the helmet from him, “Why not?”

He waited until she had it secured and nodded. She watched as he poured her shot then grabbed the bat and swung. Her whole body shook with the impact and her teeth ground against each other—maybe she should have taken a shot before getting hit with a baseball bat. Removing the helmet, she quickly downed the alcohol, hoping it would lessen the ringing in her ears. It helped a little. Her next few shots helped even more.

By the end of the night, Aelin collapsed in her room, very happy with how her day had turned out. And even happier that she had managed to wash down the taste of Ouzo with tequila.

***

Everywhere Rowan went, he was surrounded by friendly people and bright shops. He’d tried setting up his camera on the balcony of his hotel room, hoping to get some candid pictures of tourists and locals walking around. He’d learned early on that some of his best photos were when the subjects were being unselfconsciously themselves.

He thought he had a few good shots that lived up to his expectations, but he needed more.

One afternoon, after getting a coffee at a small cafe, he took a series of shots highlighting the contrasting cerulean blue domes with the bright white of the buildings and the vivid, colorful flowers.

That night, Rowan brought his tripod down to the main lookout point on the tip of the island, hoping to get some good photos of the sunset. When he returned to his room afterward, he knew he needed to go back to that lookout the next night. The lighting and colors were amazing, but he wanted to forgo his tripod and free-hand some shots.

Satisfied with his plan, he looked forward to the next night, hoping he could find a single shot that would capture the essence of his assignment.

***

Stepping out of her small rented apartment, Aelin locked the door and strolled down the cobblestone streets of Oia.

She had loved the last few days of exploring the island, but this town was her favorite. She smiled as she watched people hurry along past her towards lit-up shops selling art, clothing, souvenirs, and spiced foods.

As she walked further towards the water the buildings opened up to expose winding streets along the staggering levels of the cliffside. In one spot, she could see the slope of houses, domed rooftops, and balconies placed carefully on the edge, curving around the side of the island.

But it was almost sunset and there was somewhere else she needed to be.

Trying not to get lost in the maze of streets, Aelin finally came out farther down the island where the tip of the city met the ocean.

According to her research: countless guidebooks, internet searches, and tips from locals—this was the best place to watch the sunset.

A large stone wall rose above the curving path at the edge of the walkway. She followed the crowd of people around the curve and saw more of the white and pastel houses, each stacked atop another with winding staircases and small, private pools. Near the top, sat a windmill-looking structure that looked like the perfect finishing touch on the scene before her. All the houses faced the bright blue water that stretched out towards the horizon.

Aelin made sure to get a few pictures before wandering back up the path. Putting her phone away carefully, she surveyed the large stone wall. She noticed a few pieces that were poking out and used them to climb the few feet it took to get onto the top of it. Thankfully it was decently wide and she could comfortably sit on its edge.

Just as she was about to sit down, she stopped.

From her higher vantage point, she caught sight of a certain silver-haired photographer who was leaning up against the front of the wall. She must have just passed him when she was down there but hadn’t noticed with the bustling crowds of people.

She debated with herself for a moment. She should ignore him; she should let him do his thing and she would do hers. They would both leave the island and not have to be bothered with each other again.

And yet...

And yet, they kept seeing each other.

Maybe she shouldn’t ignore him. Maybe she should see why the universe kept throwing them into each other's paths. He was irritating and infuriating and rude, but she’d promised herself a long time ago to keep herself open to signs. Maybe seeing him again was a sign. A sign that she needed to out of Europe for a while.

And what was the worst that could happen? They’d argue again and they’d both leave. Nothing different from any of the other times they’d seen each other.

Before she could overthink it even more, Aelin was nimbly prancing across the top of the wall and quietly sitting down on the edge next to him. She let her legs dangle, her feet swinging lightly by his shoulders when he didn’t so much as glance up.

Before she could say anything, she heard him let out a long-suffering sigh.

His head turned up and she met his unamused pine-green eyes. Sighing again, he ran a hand over his face and crossed his arms.

“Of course, you’re here,” He grumbled to himself but loud enough for her to hear.

She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Yes, I am. Another coincidence, maybe?”

He chuckled dryly, “that, or you’re stalking me.”

“Please, haven't we also already established that that isn't worth my time.”

Aelin was quiet for a few minutes, content to watch the sun get closer to the horizon as the sky began to change from blue to purple to red. Sneaking a look down at Rowan, she realized she needn’t have tried being subtle; he was absorbed in his camera.

“Do you always use your camera?”

“What?” He brought the camera away from his face and readjusted some settings, “Of course I do.” He looked at her like she asked the most idiotic question. “It’s my job.”

“No shit.” she swung her legs up to sit cross-legged on the wall, “I mean, do you always watch the world through your camera lens?”

He tilted his head up to look at her and when he didn’t respond right away, she went on.

“You go to all these unique, beautiful places to take pictures, which is for your job,” she mocked in a horrible imitation of his voice and he rolled his eyes before she became serious again, “but do you ever just put the camera down and take in something with your own eyes?”

The intensity of her gaze left him momentarily speechless.

He… he hadn’t, not really. Sure, he was always grateful to be able to travel to amazing places, but it was for his job, so he never went anywhere without his camera. It would be just his luck that the one instance he didn’t take pictures, would be when he sees something truly spectacular. If he missed it, he’d never forgive himself.

But her words snagged on something in him, something he hadn’t realized he’d been wondering himself. Had he missed things? Had he missed them not in the actual sense of not seeing them, but in the sense that because he was always so focused on getting the technical aspects right, like the angles or lighting, or wondering if a particular photo fulfilled his assignment—had he missed simply experiencing it?

Aelin’s words circled around in his head. It was obvious she didn’t think he would answer her. When he looked up, she was leaning forwards with her hands resting on her crossed legs, her hair spilling across her shoulders. The soft light from the sunset made her skin appear to glow.

But what really stopped Rowan from responding was the look on her face.

Aelin was staring out towards the water, her eyes jumping back and forth along the dark waves, painted sky, and pastel buildings. It was like she was trying to memorize every detail of the ever-changing scene in front of her. The colors that were constantly blending into one another. It was as if the whole world fell away, all the people around them disappearing, and all she could see was the sunset.

So very slowly, Rowan lifted his camera once more. This time, instead of aiming it towards the water he focused on Aelin’s face. She was too enraptured with the view to notice him. Rowan took a couple shots, managing to capture her face and the buildings behind her catching the light.

Capture an enchanting moment.

He carefully placed his camera back into its protective bag and placed it on the ground between his feet and the base of the wall. Then he leaned back and watched the sunset.

***

Aelin sat on the stone wall until the last of the sunlight faded away. She took a deep, shuddering breath, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by all the emotions coursing through her.

The sunset had been beautiful—perfect. It was everything she hoped it would be. This was another one of those moments that she had looked forward to for so long, and one she knew would never forget. She took another breath and collected herself.

Moving her legs, trying to get feeling back into her toes, Aelin noticed that Rowan was still standing there, staring out at the water. She’d forgotten he was there, and she definitely didn't expect him to still be there now. But he seemed caught up in his head, almost unaware that she was there.

The movement of her standing up seemed to shake him out of his stupor, though. He shook his head and looked almost confused at how dark it was as if he didn't realize how long he’d been standing there.

“Well, that's it for me,” Aelin said quietly, unsure if she was telling herself or him.

He glanced up and caught her eye as she turned to walk down the length of the wall until she reached a part closer to the ground.

When she found a spot low enough, Aelin hopped down from the wall, catching herself before she stumbled on the uneven street. Before she could walk away, Rowan was there, having grabbed his camera and walked around the wall as she maneuvered down it.

She nodded at him and started to walk away but he followed her. When she paused and raised an eyebrow at him he just said, “I’m this way, too.”

She wasn't in the mood to argue so she simply shrugged and kept walking. He kept pace easily.

They didn't talk. Both caught up in their own thoughts. Or maybe, they were both content to just be neutral with each other instead of throwing barbs and insults.

A few minutes later, after leisurely following the path, she made to turn down a side street.

“I haven’t.”

She stopped, startled by his voice after walking in near silence. But he was standing at the intersection of the street, staring at her with a look she couldn't describe.

“What?” Aelin asked him, unsure of what he was talking about.

His brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, he looked almost distraught. “I haven't. I haven’t seen things without my lens.”

She waited for him to say something else. He didn't, he just stared at her. Aelin got the feeling that what she’d said earlier struck a nerve and now he was trying to figure out why she said it in the first place.

Another moment passed and Aelin looked at him thoughtfully.

“You did tonight.” She saw how he was looking out at the water, directly where the sun was swallowed by the waves; she knew he watched it.

“I did.” Rowan ran a hand through his hair leaving it standing on end.

“Try it some more.” Aelin considered Rowan, maybe she had misjudged him. Maybe he just needed to open his eyes a little. “There are some things you just can't capture on camera.”

Rowan didn’t respond, he just kept staring at her.

So with that, Aelin turned away. She walked three steps before pausing and looking back over her shoulder to where Rowan had not moved.

“Goodbye, Rowan.”

It took her another five steps before she heard his voice echoing along the cobblestones.

“Goodbye, Aelin.”

***

Part 2 | Part 4

*****

Taglist:

She recognized his silver hair and that tattoo.

She knew she was looking at the same man whom she met in Italy.

Aelin didn't remember most people she interacted with mostly because she was around so many people all the time—but she couldn't forget this man.

The man she spent two hours standing in line behind waiting to get into the Uffizi Gallery; the one who refused to move when she wanted to take a picture of Florence. Part of her felt a little bad about how she handled that last bit, but he had been so infuriating that her guilt didn't last long.

But there was no way it could be him. That had been almost two months ago, and yet…

She recognized his face when he turned, catching a glimpse of his scowl and those green eyes.

Okay, it was undeniably him.

He didn't seem to notice her, and Aelin watched as he got into a car and drove out of the lot.

How the hell was she seeing someone who she interacted with not once, but multiple times, weeks ago, in a totally different country?

How was she seeing him in Reykjavík, Iceland?

***

Aelin tried her best to shake off that bewildering incident. The longer she thought about it, the more easily she could convince herself that she made it all up.

Leaving Reykjavík, Aelin drove around the southern edge of the country. She stopped at least once an hour to see the waterfalls or geysers, or even to get up close to some of the adorable Icelandic ponies.

So far, her favorite waterfalls had been Seljalandsfoss because she could walk on a path behind the waterfall and it made her feel like she was in some fantasy novel in a hidden cave; and Skogafoss because at the base of the falls she watched a bright, vibrant rainbow form.

By her third day, Aelin drove towards the southwestern edge of the island to Vatnajökull National Park where she had booked a spot on a glacier hike. Fitted with gear, she and a few others hiked on top of a retreating glacier. The ice was so solid that it looked bright blue, not letting any other light through it. Her favorite parts were the tunnels carved into the ice by the water flow and not a small part of her wanted to slide down it.

Aelin loved the memories she made on her trips, and already, Iceland was looking up to be one of her favorites.

***

It had been a few years since Rowan had visited Iceland. He remembered going to the Blue Lagoon and swimming in the hot springs, but he mainly stayed in Reykjavík.

Now, he was being sent to the eastern side of the island, near Egilsstaðir, to work on a piece about the Eastern Fjords of Iceland.

Having arrived early, he rented a car and drove through Thingvellir National Park. It wasn't very far from Reykjavík and he could still catch his later flight at the small regional airport.

Rowan drove around the park, making time to see Silfra Lake which was forming at the continental divide as Iceland was sitting on top of two separating tectonic plates, and wishing he had the time to rent the scuba gear and go diving in the water.

Eventually, he made it back to the small airport and flew across the island, ready to start on his next project.

***

All Aelin could see was white. White road, white field, white mountains…white snow. It was very disorienting. No matter where she looked, or how hard she concentrated on the road, she felt like she was driving nowhere. The only reprieve from the void was the occasional farmhouse every dozen miles or so.

Ugh. Aelin normally didn’t mind driving. Granted, she never had to do much of it living in the city and then traveling around the last few years, but normally she found driving to be relaxing.

She was seriously reconsidering that now.

Aelin had already been behind the wheel for almost five hours, on top of the last three days of making her way along the southern border.

A flash from her GPS caught her attention. Either she could take the coastal route and be at her hotel in two and a half hours, or she could take the inland route and be there in an hour and a half. Clicking her screen to choose the shorter route, Aelin settled back into her seat to drive the rest of the way.

The road was winding, and she had to go extra slow to keep on the road around the turns. Gripping the steering wheel tight, Aelin tried to refocus her eyes again, accepting already that she would go blind from having to stare into the endless white abyss.

She passed by a small sign placed far away from the road. For a moment she thought she was already losing her mind, unable to decode the words on the sign, but then she realized it was written in Icelandic. Almost every other sign she had seen had been in both Icelandic and English, so she assumed it must not be important if it didn’t have a translation.

Aelin should’ve remembered what people say about what happens when you assume.

She made it about half a mile past the sign when her tires got stuck.

Aelin pressed the gas again. And again. She pushed the pedal all the way down, and still, the car wouldn’t move.

She wouldn’t panic.

Putting the car in reverse, Aelin tried to back out the way she came.

Only for her tires to spin in place.

Shit.

Shit.

Fucking Shit.

“Okay,” Aelin muttered out loud, trying to keep calm. “Okay, I am stuck in the snow, I can’t get out.” She looked out all the car’s windows, “I can’t see any houses around. I’m in a country where I don’t know anyone.”

The briefest flash of silver hair crossed her mind before disappearing.

“I’m in a country where I don’t know anyone that would help me. Think, Aelin. You’re not helpless.”

She closed her GPS and pulled up a larger map. Great, she was miles away from any town. It was too cold to try to walk somewhere, and with this luck, she would end up falling into a snow ditch.

Taking a deep breath, she spotted the wrinkled keychain hanging off the key fob. Yes, the emergency numbers!

“Okay, Aelin, just call the emergency number and everything will be fine. You absolutely will not freeze to death out here.” She glanced at her gas level and mentally thanked the gods that she thought to fill up the car this morning. At least she could keep the car running and the heat on until help came to tow her out.

The good news was that a tow truck would be able to pick her up and bring the car to the closest town. They said they wanted to check the car out because the road wasn’t meant for any cars to drive on, let alone her tiny two-wheel-drive car that wasn’t equipped for the mountains.

Apparently, the sign she deemed insignificant said the road ahead was closed and to turn back around. Hearing that, she felt not only unlucky but embarrassed.

But, in her defense, she couldn’t read Icelandic.

Although…if her argument was that she couldn’t read a sign in the native language of the place she was visiting, spoken by the people of the place she was visiting…well, that made her feel like another tourist who expected everyone else to speak her language. And she didn’t like that.

The bad news was that it would take a tow truck almost two hours to get to her.

Annoyed, mostly at herself, she accepted that she would be stuck in her car for a while and tried to take a nap.

Aelin was woken up by an older woman knocking on her window. She quickly grabbed her things and went to sit in the tow truck while the lady connected her car to the hooks.

The driver delivered Aelin’s car to an auto shop with a guarantee that it would be ready for her tomorrow. She then brought Aelin to the main hotel—the only hotel—of the town. Aelin had spent the drive canceling her other room reservation and calling this hotel to book a room for the night.

After paying way too much money for the tow, Aelin hefted her bag over her shoulder and went to check-in.

***

Rowan flagged the bartender over and asked for another beer. He was sitting at the sorry excuse of a hotel bar trying to edit some of the photos he’d taken that day.

His current assignment involved capturing the Eastern Fjords of Iceland. Most of his photos turned out well. The coastline was jagged and he managed to capture miles of it in a single photo.

Rowan felt, more than saw, someone walk up to the bar and sit a few seats down from him. From the corner of his eye, he could tell it was a woman. But when she spoke, giving her order to the bartender, the sound of her voice nagged at something in him—like he knew it from somewhere. Saving the picture that he was working on, he looked up.

And choked on his beer.

His loud sputtering and coughing drew the attention of the woman who had sat down on the other end of the bar. The blonde woman with gold and turquoise eyes.

Her eyes met his and Rowan watched as they immediately widened, and her mouth gaped open in shock.

“Wha—”

“You—"

“How—,” Rowan couldn’t get a coherent thought out.

“Oh, my fuc—," It seemed she felt the same.

“How the fuck are you here right now?” Rowan blurted before he could think better of it.

Her mouth snapped shut and she glared at him. She was already having a crappy day; she so didn’t need this.

“I could ask you the same question.” She closed her eyes and tried to take a calming breath. “This is just my luck. It's official, the universe hates me.”

Scoffing, Rowan’s disbelief turned into frustration.

He never imagined he would see this woman again. The bothersome, vexing woman who had refused to take her pictures anywhere besides directly in front of his camera. When he finished his assignment in Florence, he was more than glad to be rid of her, seeing as she kept popping up where he went.

Apparently, that was still true.

Some-fucking-how

“No, really, how are you here? Why are you here?” Rowan couldn’t figure out how this woman who had driven him crazy in Italy was somehow sitting next to him in Iceland. Two months later.

Aelin was tired. She really did not want to question why the universe had pushed her into the same hotel as the insufferable photographer.

“In Iceland?” She sighed, “Or sitting at this bar in the same hotel as you?”

“Both. How are you here.” At least they both seemed exasperated to see the other again.

Rolling her eyes, Aelin took a long swig of her drink and plastered an obviously fake smile on. “I am here,” she looked around the empty bar, “because my car got stuck in the snow and I had to be towed to the nearest town. It was by pure luck that I now have the wonderful privilege of seeing your cheerful, smiling face.”

Rowan scowled which only made her smile all the more saccharine.

“Fine.” He grumbled. “Then why are you in Iceland? Why now?”

Aelin took a second to look him over. He wore a button-up long sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top button open, tucked into jeans and a nice pair of shoes. When she first got a good look at him in Italy, she thought he was extremely attractive. He still is, she begrudgingly admitted to herself.

But it didn’t matter because every time he opened his mouth it made her grind her teeth and want to bang her head against the wall. Or maybe his head.

“Gods, you make it sound like I’m following you.” She said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

He raised his eyebrows as if to say yes, that’s exactly what I’m implying.

She snorted and rolled her eyes again, “Oh, please, don’t think so highly of yourself. Like I would spend my time and energy tracking you down and follow you to some random country? For what? Why would I want to do that?”

He paused to exaggerate thinking. “Maybe to apologize for being a she-devil in Florence?”

“Excuse me?” Aelin looked at him in outrage. “As if you weren’t equally dick-ish.”

“Dick-ish?”

“Yes, dick-ish. You don’t like that title? How about an insufferable ass?”

“Whatever.” Rowan couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. “You were the one who ruined the photo that I was taking—for my job.”

“Ah yes, the long-exposure shot,” She mocked. “Well, you’re the one who ran into me, insulted me while we waited in line, and monopolized a public lookout.”

They both stared at each other for a long minute, neither backing down.

Finally, Rowan loosed a long breath and dragged his fingers through his hair. He turned back to the bar and downed the rest of his drink. He could feel her eyes on him the whole time.

Aelin smirked faintly.

“Are you here for work then?” She tried to not sound so hostile.

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” He looked at her skeptically. Her tone was more inquisitive than insulting and he was trying to figure out if he should be prepared for more of her snark.

“I’m just trying to figure out what your job is exactly.” Aelin paused. While this man ferociously got on her nerves, she was interested in what kind of job sent him abroad to take pictures. Magazine photographer? Film Location Manager? Hobbyist pretending he’s a professional?

After another moment’s pause, Rowan said “Travel Photographer. I work for a Travel Agency’s Magazine.”

Aelin nodded, “I knew it.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow.

“Yeah, you have the look. And the temperament. Let me guess, you were working just now, or, you know, before we started this lovely conversation.”

“What do you mean I have the look?” He decided to dodge her barb about his temperament. “And it doesn’t matter what I was doing before you came in.”

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to give her an alternative to what he had been doing. He didn’t.

Smirking, Aelin went on. “You have this whole…” she waved her hand vaguely at him. “I’m trying to look professional, but not too corporate; comfortable, yet still put together kind of vibe. And it seemed to ruffle your feathers whenever something didn’t go your way, but in a way that you seemed very much done with having to deal with bullshit,” She paused to give him an innocent smile that he rolled his eyes at. “As if you had no choice but to stick to someone else’s agenda.”

Rowan just stared at her. “I can’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult.”

Aelin just shrugged and took another sip of her drink. “Take it however you like, it’s still true.”

“Fine.” Rowan finished his beer, trying not to dwell on how spot-on her observation had been. “So, your car got stuck, that’s why you’re at this hotel. But why are you in Iceland?”

She seemed surprised he was voluntarily still talking to her. He was a bit surprised, too.

Aelin blinked once. “I got a notification that flights to Reykjavík were on sale, I bought a ticket, and here I am.”

It was Rowan’s turn to blink. “And what job do you have that you can just hop on a plane and travel anytime you like?”

“I don’t have a job.”

Rowan snorted. “I knew it.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Aelin turned to face him fully, crossing her arms over her chest.

Smirking, Rowan said in a poor imitation of Aelin’s voice, “You have the look. And the temperament.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “You know nothing about me.”

He smirked and waited for the bartender who came to pick up Rowan’s empty bottle to leave. “You have this whole… I’m out to travel the world, and experience life for myself by trying to be some sort of down-to-earth backpacker, while I pretend not to be running away from my responsibilities,” He paused heavily, “or lack thereof.”

They both stared at each other. They kept staring as the bartender came back with a fresh drink for both of them.

This time, Aelin broke their staring contest and chuckled to herself. She lifted her glass and looked back at him.

“Cheers,” She waited until he hesitantly raised his own bottle, “to strangers you hope to never see again”

He barked a laugh, “To strangers you hope to never to see again”

They shared a sardonic grin before each taking a sip.

Aelin got up, threw some bills on the counter, and gave Rowan a mocking salute.

He sat at the counter watching as she left the bar. She was exasperating, but Rowan couldn’t help but wonder if there was a reason he’d run into her again.

No. It was just a bizarre coincidence.

He paid, picked up his laptop, and turned in for the night trying his best not to think about the frustrating woman who had, against his will, left an impression.

***

There were times when Aelin questioned the workings of the universe. Like how she could meet someone in one instance and then again in a completely different place, time, and circumstance. It made her wonder if there was something greater at play, or if she just had really bad timing.

It was something she had thought about every day since she left that hotel.

After picking up her car, she finished her trek around the island. She had to cut out some of her planned stops to make up for lost time, but that was fine. She still managed to go on a whale-watching tour up in Húsavík, and a guided horseback ride on an Icelandic pony in a small town outside of Akureyri.

Aelin made it back to Reykjavík for her last night. After a brief trip to the Icelandic Phallological Museum—because how could she not go?— she settled into her room and made a plan for how she would accomplish her last, most important, task.

There was one thing that truly drew Aelin to Iceland, something that she had dreamed of seeing for years, and something that would make coming here in the winter and dealing with the gods-forsaken snow all worth it.

The Northern Lights.

***

Aelin sat on the hood of her car and waited. She had driven an hour out of Reykjavík, taking the underground tunnel back north towards Akranes, making sure to get as far away from the light pollution of the city as she could.

She found a small observation point to pull her car into and climbed onto the hood with a water bottle, some snacks, and a blanket she snagged from her hotel room. She was ready to sit out here all night if it meant she would see the lights.

Afterward, Aelin would look back and remember this experience as one of the most incredible things she had ever witnessed.

Almost numb from the cold, Aelin watched as the lights began to form in the sky, slowly getting closer and closer to her. It was unlike anything she'd seen. Unlike the photographs.

The lights were alive. They were dancing through the sky, never staying in one place for more than an instant. If she was ever going to believe that magic existed in this world it would be in that moment.

She was in awe; she cried, she laughed, she didn’t take her eyes off them—couldn’t.

She let herself get lost in the beauty. And for the first time during her trip, she began to wonder if the universe had something special in mind for her. As she watched the ethereal, ghostly lights, she wondered if maybe things happened for reasons beyond coincidence.

What Aelin couldn’t have known was that on the other side of the island, from a small lookout near the eastern fjords, Rowan was watching the lights dance across the sky and thinking about coincidence, too.

***

Part 1

*****

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