#homiines

the sheer fact that , after everything , he still took aelin at her word was an aspect of rowan she would never not find humor in.      and one she would not exploit for her own amusement even now.      witnessing the joining of elide and lorcan , of aedion and lysandra , and the grand event that it should rightly be , left aelin in loss of what she and rowan had not been given.     yes their union had been officiated nearly a year prior in just a days time already , it was the hastened piece of it that left the queen feeling empty.       the looming darkness of war forced them to speed through their wedding.      if one could call it such upon a ship preparing for battle.      a joining of two in love solely for the technicalities of it in case she was to fall   —   to ensure terrasen would have a king.      but sharing her sadness with her dearest shapeshifting friend was what had spurred the idea.      a proper wedding on the day of their first anniversary.      a wedding to go down in history books.      and by all the gods aelin had banished did she lay the false trail for her husband to believe this wedding would be the most extravagant show the nation of erilea had ever seen.      and somehow he believed her every step. 

morning of the day had come , doors to the throne room closed as for the aids to ready the space in what she conveyed as what would be overly decorated and filled to the brim with guests from all corners of the nation , and aelin had sat within their chambers.      the simple dress white as terrasen snow resting atop the staghorns with a golden depiction of the lord of the north on her back , sat in the bag hanging from the changing screen.      a suit identical in color with its own take of the symbol of the northernmost territory on its lapel , a surprise for the man who she had led to believe would be wearing forest green robes for the better half of a month , resting in its own bag upon her lap as she awaited her mate.      

hand ringless for the first time shook as she waited for him to exit the bathroom.      lysandra had taken both of them as to prepare them for the event.      but without them , even for a few hours , left aelin feeling a different sort of naked.      thankfully the shaking did not last long as the door opened and eyes wicked with her own schemes locked to his.      ❛   aedion brought up your robes for the wedding while you were in there doing god knows what for so long.   ❜      arms extend the bag in his direction as she rose to her feet closing the space between the two , inhaling his clean scent.      ❛   i see you found the lavender soap.   ❜

plotted starter for @homiines for rhysand.

"i'll be right back!" her voice carries towards her sisters who were in the middle of the dance floor; sweat had begun to drip at the back of her neck and she desperately needed to refresh herself. blue orbs scan for the restrooms, still utterly memorized by the beauty of the club. perhaps it was the drinks, perhaps it was because feyre was finally in vacation mode, celebrating her late birthday, living carefree. no tamlin, no one telling her what to do.

heels click on the marble floor as she finds herself in front of the mirror of the bathroom, a hand dips into the sink to collect some water to pat behind her neck, while the other hand holds her golden brown hair up. hues poor over her outfit; a long silky black dress cuts off at her ankles, backless. and to nesta's point, it sure does hug her curves well.

A SMILE PLAYING ON HIS LIPS, he swept down to press his lips against hers. For all they had been apart mere moments, his still heart would never again not yearn for her. It wasn't the gravity of the planet he orbited, but Bella. And today was an important day, despite all of her previous grumbling about it.

@homiines​   said   ‘ so, how long are we going to stay in bed today? ’

morning after starters

ASTORIA’S   VOICE   is   the   only   sound   he   wants   to   wake   up   to   .   warm   and   inviting   ,   laced   with   affection   and   love   that   draco   knows   is   reserved   for   moments   like   these   .   his   fingers   cascade   down   her   bare   shoulder   before   curling   around   her   waist   to   tug   her   closer   ,   bare   skin   against   bare   skin   .

                             HOW DID THEY GET HERE?   ruins left in their wake, salvation sought and lost in the aftermath of a war neither of them ever wanted to be in.    for years they’d traveled down a thin line of what was right and wrong in their own respective minds, conditioned and predisposed of their ideals of who they were.   neither of them really knew they were just two sides of the same coin.  two hearts trapped in their wrong minds.     but war, war changes people.  like polished dinged by being handled, draco finally saw harry for everything he wasn’t before.   a pawn soldier boy just like he was, and maybe all the things he thought he hated was because he couldn’t find them in himself.   jealousy is an ugly color, especially on him, and draco’s trying hard not to fall victim to his old ways.  it’s hard, though, but not right now ; not when he’s been so sucked in to his book that he’s forgotten harry has been there with him.  he glances down, expecting to catch green staring back up at him.  it’s unnerving the way harry will watch him, as if he’s trying to see if there is any darkness left.  trying to discover the parts left of draco he’s trying desperate to hide.  the insecurities that often find themselves burying into his bones.  draco is not a changed man, not really.   he’s got far too much to outgrow, cycles to break.  there’s parts of him, all sharp tongue and icy silver that hasn’t quite left yet.  but with harry ...   harry seems to mellow out all the sharp edges, with calloused hands that find their way to scarred skin.  an anchor in the storm, draco catches his breath.  

                                 harry’s fallen asleep, and it’s the first time he’s actually looked at peace.   all those stress lines on his face seem to disappear, it floods draco with warmth, the kind that makes his stomach hurt so much he feels like he could be sick.  steals the breath right out of his chest.   harry potter, in all his glory, asleep with his head in malfoy’s lap.  ‘’      potter,       ‘’     it’s said so softly, as if someone is around to hear.  but it’s just the two of them for now, and his voice cracks with the weight of it on his tongue.   there’s no response, he knew it wouldn’t come ; potter’s chest rises and falls in a rhythm that screams home.  and what a revelation that is, especially when draco’s own foundation has been stolen from him. a broken home, he latches on to the first thing he can find.  malfoy manor will never be the same, not while his father is locked away.  draco’s hand itch, begging to move.  begging to touch, to map out, to explore all the things he hasn’t yet.  and yeah, it used to drive him absolutely crazy, but he’s crazy about the unruly curles of harry’s hair.  ah, well, there’s nothing else to do right now anyway.  

                                   book placed beside them, draco’s fingers find their way into harry’s hair, the soft massage of his scalp under calloused fingertips.  he deserves this rest more than draco does, and it’s these moments where he can be the most vulnerable, most open - most of himself, without having to try and hold back his sly tongue.   there’s so much he wants to say, wants to do, wants to experience - but every one he’s ever loved has been killed or hurt in some way.  not harry, not anymore - he’s been through enough.   so harry can have his mornings, his nights, his cowardice.  but draco will have these moments, the ones harry can’t remember.  the ones harry can’t judge him on.  and he smiles, god, draco smiles so much his heart could rip to shreds in his chest.  he loves him, he does.  but those are words he’ll never say.   instead he plants them as a kiss right above harry’s scar.  lets his thumb find refuge in the curves of his cheekbones.  

it was her idea , and yet as their horses leading the wagon behind moved closer to rifthold , the further she felt the weight in her chest grow.      as if a slab of iron had been piled atop her more and more the closer the once dreaded city became.      aelin , or we’ll celaena , had promised him that night she laid atop his body in that damned dungeon that she would lay him to rest with the honor he deserved.      after all he had given her , given up for her   . . .   it was only the tip of the iceberg of what how she wished she could repay him.      but like many other things , the opportunity had been ripped from her.      but no longer.      to rebuild a better world meant mending things broken , upholding promises thought forgotten , and not just castles and walls.      even if as the city walls greeted them , as the streets filled with life filled her ears upon seeing the reversed queen of terrasen amongst them , aelin felt like crumbling.      but he   —   sam   —   had fought , had never broken and never gave in.      and neither would she.      she would hold it together just a little longer. 

aelin led through the city without word or thought , knuckles near as white as terrasen snow  , clutching the reins of her horse as the solemn group who followed with wagon in tow neared the graveyard.      i can do this.      i am not afraid.      over and over words chanted to herself as the world around her faded and soon enough they neared the beautiful yet simple stone jutting from the earth marking the plot of land for whom lay below   (  a gift from another she had never gotten to relay her thanks to.   )      it’s then does aelin waste no time , passing no words , as she dips from the back of her mare leaving the others , rowan included , as if they did not exist behind as she closed the remaining distance.      only when she stood before that weathered rock did the piling weight finally claim her.      her body falling to her knees , sinking into the summer soil as hands reached the sun warmed stone before her.      aelin’s fingers tracing over the engraved words  :    sam cortland.      beloved.      

 ❛   hello sam.     i’m here to bring you home   . . .   like i promised.   ❜

it was in the dead of night that the courier delivered the other worldly letter to aelin. the rapid knock pulling her from her deep slumber causing her interactions with the innocent man to be rather brash. but there was nothing that could have prepared her for what lie beyond that sealed envelope with a deep violet seal of three mountainous peaks pointing to a trio if stars above. apart of aelin wanted to toss it to the side to read it once the sun arose. but there was a pull to it , one of which made the small drop of flame within her dance to life beneath her skin. eyes glimple towards the bedroom door that sat mere cracked across the sitting area of the king and queen's chamber , ensuring rowan had not been disturbed by her abrupt rouse from the bed. silence. silence was her answer that he slept undisturbed on the other side of the wall. aelin moved from the middle of the room , finding comfort in the soft fabrics of the couch before the dying fire in the herth , the envelope still tight in her grasp as she did.

within the light she turns over the small letter. only two words sat marked on the outside in deep ink – aelin galathynius. why had the quick spelling of her name cause her heart to jump in her chest , why did she find it so hard to open the note from the world beyond ? fingers pull away the seal , pulling out the paper as eyes move over the words. and as she did , apart of her wishes she never had. because what was written to her from the high lord of the night court , the man she'd become allies with over the years , was something that made the world spin.

no , no , no , no. aelin moved without knowing , eyes vacant as face drew pale as fire began to burn hotter and hotter in her veins so much so a coating of sweat began to bead down her forehead , closer to the bedroom door. no caution , no gentle knock. only the swing of the room slamming against the wall alerted the fae in her bed to wake. distant , hollow words filled her as her own blue hues met his tired ones. but when she tried to speak again , the floor of her magic seemed to erupt pulling the queen of fire down to her knees in response of the floodgates reopening and an onslaught of fire filled every crevice of who she was. knocking her breathless as she found her voice once more. ❛   rowan . . .   ❜