#firehcart

Returning to London had not been on Rowan Whitethorns list of musts, and yet. . . His aunt grew impatient with a lack of an heir for his fortune. The duty as a Duke, meant he had obligations…one that had been left empty when his wife had been taken by the plagues nearly five years prior. Now, at the age of 25…the expectation to take a second wife was higher than ever. A duchess to stand at his side, to host the balls he loathed and be apart of the society he had withdrawn from.

Rowan grunted as his footman announced his arrival, not the first ball of the season but the third. The first two he had missed, after hearing some unfavorable gossip about his return; and scar on the side of his face. It was not grotesque, but it reached from the tip of his ear downward to his jaw. A reminder of a battle fought, won but men lost. Most looked upon it unfavorably, and he’d since grown his hair out to at least attempt to hide it. If he was truly to find a wife, she’d grow to accept the mark…but it did him no favors when attempting to begin a conversation. His well muscled frame crept out the carriage, a signature scowl on his face.

Rowan detested the ton, how they spoke of his wife after her passing…of him when he was spotted just a few weeks ago. It coiled something ugly in his stomach, but he could not act so dour. He forced a mask of neutrality, straightening his coats before he entered into the masses.

  DAGGER  RESTING  AGAINST  THIGH,  clad  in  illyrian  leathers,  the  night  court  heir  stares  unwavering  at  his  target.  muscles  moving  of  their  own  accord,  another  step  forward,  another.  closer  and  closer  to  her.  even  as  some  small,  secluded  part  of  his  mind  screams  for  his  limbs  to  stop,  essence  throwing  itself  against  mental  shields,  desperate  to  claw  them  away.  but  nyx  archeron  is  not  in  control;  beneath  the  binding  influence  of  the  crown,  he  is  a  pawn  for  koschei’s  bidding.  kidnapped,  forced  to  follow  him,  his  master’s  instructions  ring  clear:  kill  aelin  galathynius,  or  die  trying.  kill  anyone  who  gets  in  your  way. 

The pink metal mic felt cool to the touch, and Elain felt the stage light click on as they began counting her in. A live performance for a talk show, the last one for a few weeks until she began touring again. Her stomach twisted as the music began, fingers twirling a curl before releasing it to place it alongside her other hand. Her lips parted, beginning the song. The music vibrated around her, brown eyes shutting as she began to lose herself in the music.

"Think I'm gonna call it off Even if you call it love"

Elain opened her eyes, her foot tapping softly along with the music as she continued. Her lips widening into a smile as the song progressed, her hand briefly pressing over her heart as the lyrics flowed.

"And when you think about me, all of those years ago You're standing face to face with "I told you so""

Elain inhaled softly, holding the note as the chorus came in. Her eyes sparkled as they came to the end, her gaze briefly flickering over to her current security guard. Celaena. If Elain was being honest, her crush on her security guard was slowly driving her insane. Considering they were nearly attached at the hip, and it was maddening trying to figure out if Celaena had even glanced at her in a way that wasn't because she was paid. Slipping from her seat, Elain offered a few final waves before exiting.

   ‘     aunt  aelin!     ’  within  the  past  few  years,  winnowing  has  become  a  skill  the  child  has  grown  quite  good  at.  starting  with  small  distances,  nyx,  with  the  guidance  of  his  parents,  had  honed  and  practiced  his  abilities.  room  to  room,  town  to  town;  his  range  now  span  kingdoms,  allowing  him  to  visit  as  he  pleases.  most  times,  the  prince  refrains,  not  wanting  to  scare  his  loved  ones  by  suddenly  popping  into  other  courts  or  regions.  but  today?  he  could  use  comfort,  a  shoulder  to  snuggle  on  and  laugh  with.  and  the  only  person  he  desires  it  from  is  in  ANOTHER  LAND  entirely.    

NYX: forever modeling himself after the badass women in his life because they're his heroes