horses in motion

Romeo and Juliet


Warning: It gets kinda smutty ;)

“I’m so excited to meet them.” You admit as your sister Grace checks her reflection in the mirror. She looks amazing in her dark purple dress. She smiled at you in the reflection. You were so excited for your sister, having found the love of her life. You hadn’t seen her so happy since before your father died. You hadn’t actually seen her much at all since it happened, her working all the time and you in school, so you were just happy to be with her again. “Based on what you’ve said they sound like fun.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up if I were you; they can be a rather rambunctious group.” She said, making sure everything was ready for the wedding. You walked over to her, fixing her veil.

“Afraid I won’t like them?” You teased, staring to fuss with your own periwinkle dress.

“No, I’m afraid you’ll like them a little too much.” You both laughed at her comment, although you knew she was probably right. “Y/N, I’m not kidding. Be careful. Please.” You sister begged you.

Keep reading

(Don’t) Touch Me Like That: A Rowaelin Short Story

So here’s the first winner of the survey many of you guys took. ***Warning: Does contain mature content*** in case you weren’t aware. I spent 3 MOTHER FRICKING DAYS ON THIS. I gave up sleep, put aside my homework, everything. So I hope you all like it!

Please like and reblog, and feel free to tell me what you thought! I really did spend a lot of time on this so it means more than you could imagine having people appreciate it and tell me how much they enjoyed it. Alright, this post is long enough as it is, ENJOY!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Aelin again read over the letter she had received just yesterday. She had read it so many times that she had now memorized the words. And yet, it felt as if she still couldn’t comprehend them.

“Aelin?” Aedion asked quietly.

She didn’t turn to him as she said, “Rowan and I will set out for Fenharrow tonight. I want you and Lysandra to stay here and watch over the apartment. We don’t want Lorcan to pay an unexpected visit.” It was silent for a few moments, and Aelin could feel Aedion’s annoyance at not being chosen to accompany her rolling off him in waves, but even he was wise enough to not push Aelin at this time.

As much as she didn’t want to, she knew choosing Rowan to go with her was the wiser choice. She would much rather pick Aedion.

When the Queen of Terrasen finally turned to her cousin, he read all that and more in her eyes.

Aedion nodded, eyes somber as he murmured, “As you will it.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Aelin stuffed an extra cloak, a few pairs of pants, shirts, boots, and sweaters to keep out the winter chill into her pack before clasping it. She didn’t need to pack too much as she and Rowan shouldn’t be gone long and she certainly did not want the extra weight on her as they traveled.

Just as she was finishing strapping on her knives, blades, and other deadly weapons, she felt Rowan’s presence behind her. But she didn’t pause, instead choosing to grab a few more daggers and sheath them at her thighs.

“Are you ready to go?” His voice was cold, stilted.

Finally turning to him, Aelin couldn’t look him in the eyes as she said, “Let’s go.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

They had been travelling for three days, and Aelin had still not spoken a word to him. She hadn’t really looked at him, spoken to him, or acknowledged his existence ever since—Ever since that day. When he had pushed her away.

“Don’t do that. Don’t—touch me like that.”

Rowan shook his head as if to rid his mind of all the thoughts racing about in there. He hadn’t been able to stop replaying those moments before he had rejected her. How her eyes had seemed to glow with want, the warmth of her hand as she had caressed his tattoo…

And then the moments after. Hurt had flashed, unabashed and unexpected, on her face. He had hurt her. And then she had covered it up, made it seem like it was nothing but…He knew she was angry. He knew he had emotionally wounded her.

He knew all this…And yet he had yet to apologize for it.

“We’ll set camp here for the night.” Her voice cut through his thoughts. Rowan looked up, coming to the sudden realization that the sky was dark and now showcased thousands of stars winking down at them.

Rowan watched as Aelin hopped off her horse in one graceful, fluid motion before tying up the snow white mare as close to the peaceful river as she could. She stroked the horse as it drank deeply, and only left once she was certain the gentle beast was well taken care of.

The two of them silently set up their tents, and Aelin started a fire with no more than half a thought before she spoke to him again while she was rummaging through her pack. “I’m going to go freshen up in the river.”

And then she was gone again.

Rowan stared after her, only averting his gaze once he realized he could still see her as she began stripping off her clothes. He had not torn his gaze away fast enough to miss the maddening sight of the curve of her breasts as she had rid herself of her shirt.

His blood thrummed in his veins, forcing himself to close his eyes and take a few steadying breaths.

Gods, if he didn’t do something productive now, he’d end up joining her in that river.

And then lose his balls by her hand by doing so.

So the Fae Prince decided he’d go hunting so that they’d be able to eat something other than days old cheese and molding apples.

With his sheath strapped to his back and knives on every visible and invisible inch on him, Rowan set out.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Insufferable bastard.

Rutting pain in my ass.

Aelin mentally swore at Rowan, cursing his very name to the pits.

It’s been days—days—since they last spoke to each other. And Rowan was so rutting proud, he wouldn’t even acknowledge her.

Granted, she was also paying as much attention to him as she would a spot of dirt on the street, but she couldn’t bring herself to so much as look at him while the aching in her chest was a constant companion.

No matter how many times she told herself that if he wasn’t interested in her like that, that it was his prerogative, she couldn’t help that feeling of rejection. Besides, Aelin thought as she rinsed her hair for the third time, how can I expect him to move on after losing his mate for gods’ sake? Aelin sighed. Of course she couldn’t expect him to move on so soon—if ever—from Lyria’s death. And it was selfish of her to do so.

A wave of guilt came crashing over her.

She’d apologize to him tonight. Make sure he knew that she understood, that she felt awful for blaming him for her misguided feelings. It was just that, for the first time since Sam, Aelin thought she had finally found someone who accepted her, who saw all her flaws and the monster she was, and cared for her despite it.

Perhaps Rowan did care for her, just not in the way she wished he did.

Aelin finished bathing and heaved herself out of the river.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Once Aelin had finished dressing, she came to the camp to find that Rowan was ladling stew into a few bowls. She sniffed the air, swearing she could smell—Was that fresh bread?

She stopped at the edge of the camp, leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed over her chest. “Well,” she said, being sure to sound mildly amused, “Who would have thought Rowan Whitethorn, famous Fae Prince Warrior, Death on Swift Wings, was also a chef?”

For a moment, Aelin was afraid he wasn’t going to respond to her. She was afraid that he was going to completely ignore her. And she knew that if he did that, if he were to truly not want anything to do with her anymore, then she’d endure it and put on a brave face, but—

But Rowan merely chuckled once and said, “Well are you good for anything other than running that mouth of yours?”

If things were like they used to be, she might have made some slightly inappropriate retort, but they were just now beginning to test the waters, and she did not want to screw up redeeming herself, so she only smiled slightly and came to sit across from him.

He passed her a bowl of the mouth-watering stew, still steaming, along with a piece of the fresh bread he had somehow gotten his hands on, and the two ate in comfortable silence for a while.

Finally, when her emotions were eating her up inside and she could no longer repress the words, she blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Rowan stopped mid-bite. “For what?” He still wouldn’t look her in her eyes.

Aelin swallowed, but forced herself to continue. “For pushing your boundaries,” she said. “For crossing a line I didn’t mean to. And then blaming you for it. I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to—” she swallowed again. “I’m sorry.”

Rowan didn’t respond. He didn’t turn towards her, he didn’t speak, rutting hells—Aelin wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Rowan turned towards her. Aelin was embarrassed at the way her pulse thrummed when he finally, finally, met her gaze. She was sure he could hear the pounding of her heart, the shallowness of her breathing.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he breathed. “I should have…handled it better. It just took me off guard.”

She didn’t know when it had started, but Aelin suddenly realized that tears were pooling in her eyes. Rowan, too, seemed to notice, and at the sight of them, he only opened his arms, beckoning her, and murmured, “Come here.”

She dropped her empty bowl with shaking hands before making her way over to him. Aelin had planned on sitting beside him, but Rowan scooped her up in his arms and set her down on his lap. So close, she could distinctly smell the pine and snow scent that was him.

Aelin rested her head on his shoulder, and Rowan pulled her closer, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed again. “I’m so sorry, Rowan.”

A few heartbeats passed, and Rowan’s only response was, “I missed you, Fireheart.”

She refused to allow him to see how much those words affected her, so she laughed and retorted, “You mean you miss all of our comedic and playful banter?”

“Banter? Is that what you call it? I’d say arguing was a better fit.”

“And I’d say that me always being right and you being wrong whilst refusing to acknowledge it is an even better fit.”

And so they sat that way for a good remainder of the night, until Rowan complained that his legs were beginning to fall asleep due to Aelin’s heaviness—she had smacked him, playfully of course—and they had bid each other good night before retreating to their tents.

Aelin slept better that night than she had nights previous, but her tent still seemed to be too cold without her Fae Prince at her side

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Two more days of riding, and though things were still a bit tense between the two of them, Aelin and Rowan were talking to each other again. It was at the end of the second day that they had stumbled upon a small village. The village was welcoming and inviting, with red brick buildings and local shops, friendly people.

And most importantly, an inn.

“We can lodge here for the night,” Aelin said. She didn’t mind travelling, but she was tired of sleeping on the hard ground and bathing in creeks and rivers and eating nothing but cheese, apples, bread, and whatever game she and Rowan had hunted.The thought of sleeping in a bed was so appealing, she had to restrain herself from making her horse go faster just to reach the inn.

The inn was cozy and warm, with a tavern off to the right and teeming with people. Boisterous laughter and the scent of pumpkin and cinnamon greeted them upon arriving, and Rowan and Aelin quickly scanned the space before Rowan said, “I’m going to go check things out. You see about getting us a room to stay in for the night.” Before Aelin could protest, he was off.

Aelin strutted to the innkeeper’s desk, ringing the little bell there and feeling eyes on her coming from every which way. Her hand strayed to a knife hidden beneath her cloak, but she made sure that the silver gleamed menacingly and in plain view. If anyone dared to be a bit bold and try to steal from her, they were going to find themselves missing a few fingers—Or perhaps a whole rutting hand.

The innkeeper, a small, plump woman with dark hair and light eyes bustled out, wiping her hands on her skirt before cheerfully greeting Aelin.

“I’d like a room for the night please,” Aelin said. “And, with two beds,” she added as an afterthought. As much as she and Rowan were beginning to mend their relationship, she guessed he’d prefer to have a bed of his own.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” the innkeeper breathed, and Aelin steeled herself for the words she was sure to say next. “All of our two bed rooms are full. But, there is one room available. Mind you, it does only have one bed, but—”

Seeing that the woman was getting quite flustered, and perhaps a bit frightened at the sight of Aelin’s hand on her knife, Aelin politely interrupted, “It’s fine. We’ll take whatever you can offer us.” The woman nodded.

Upon paying the kind innkeeper and receiving the key from her, Aelin walked back to the tavern in search of Rowan.

Good gods, there were so many people! Aelin had to push her way through, scouting for the Fae Prince. It took her all of five minutes before she found him in the more dimly lit part of the tavern, his back to her.

A pretty, curly-haired woman was pressed against the wall, big brown eyes just gobbling up the sight of the muscular warrior. Aelin could not hear what they were saying over the roaring in her ears, but she watched on in silent horror as Rowan lowered his lips to her ear, eyes straying to her considerable-sized breasts. The woman’s eyes seemed to darken with lust, and her hand went to his chest, feeling the hard, corded muscle underneath his tunic.

Rowan flashed her a lazy smile, one so few people were graced to see, and when the woman nodded upon him whispering something else in her ear, Aelin could take no more of it.

Just as she was preparing to leave the tavern, her gaze met with that of the beautiful woman. She nodded in Aelin’s direction, and Rowan looked over his shoulder, making direct eye contact with her.

Aelin wasn’t sure what would happen next, didn’t know if Rowan would simply dismiss her or go after her, but she didn’t care to stick around and find out.

Faster than a bat out of hell, she rushed out of the tavern, up the stairs, and found the room they were to be staying in for the remainder of the night.

The room was small, but cozy. There was a small wardrobe tucked into the farthest right corner, a door that led to the bathing chambers, a small fireplace, and a table. A considerable sized bed with fresh linen took up much of the space, if you sat on it and looked out, you could view the beautiful violet snow-capped mountains that seemed to go on for an eternity.

Ten minutes passed, and Aelin could do nothing but stare out that window. That is, until the door opened, and pine and snow overtook the room. The air was instantly stale, and the mixture of awkwardness and anger was a tangible thing.

“There’s only one bed,” he said.

Aelin scoffed and faced him. He looked for all the world like he had done absolutely nothing wrong and had no idea why she was behaving like a lunatic. “I told them we needed two beds, you insufferable bastard. This is the only room they had available.” Swiftly, she began ridding herself of her weapons, her freezing cloak. “If you’ve got a problem with it, you’re welcome to sleep on the floor. Or even better, you can change into your hawk form and find a nice nest for lodging.”

Rowan was still stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he said, “That actually doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.”

Aelin shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Then by all means, go do it. Apparently, I’m such an detestable pain in your ass that you’d rather go warm some other harlot’s bed than share one with me for a night.”

And there it was.

Almost immediately, Aelin regretted the words, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

Rowan’s brows furrowed and he took a step closer. “Aelin—” She held up a hand, ceasing whatever words were about to come out of his mouth.

“It’s none of my business, Rowan, whom you decide to have relations with, I know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Rowan was silent as she finished stripping off her weapons, setting them on the small, wooden bedside table before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Rowan was an idiot.

A ginormous, gods-damned rutting idiot.

He should have known, should have thought about how the sight of him flirting with another woman, no matter what the initiative, would have affected Aelin. Especially, especially considering what he’d told her just weeks before.

“Rowan,” she had breathed and slid her fingers down the side of his tattooed cheek and—

Impossibly fast, Rowan grabbed one wrist and then the other, yanking them away from his face and snarling softly.

He dropped her hands as if they were on fire, stepping away.

“Don’t do that. Don’t—touch me like that.”

He had known, as soon as he had said the words, that he had hurt her in some foolish, unspeakable way.

And now…He could only imagine how it looked. That he would rather some random woman’s hands run all over him, rather share her bed, than be with Aelin for just one night.

The line between them had become so blurred once he had come to join her in Adarlan. It  was completely different between them in Wendlyn. They had fought and cried and laughed together. She had slept in his bed every night after she had nearly burnt herself out. And Rowan had not realized just how lonely he was until he would wake up in the middle of the night, hands searching for a girl who was not there. A girl who was half way across the continent, and had taken pieces of him with her.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

As Aelin bathed, she could not stop replaying all that she had seen just moments previous. The way Rowan leaned into that woman, how he seemed to want—crave—her touch. The way his eyes had freely roamed over her body, how her eyes had seemed to darken in response.

“Don’t do that. Don’t—touch me like that.”

Aelin came to the sudden, crippling realization that perhaps—Perhaps those words were not a general statement. Maybe they had been intended for her only. Was it not possible that just because Rowan did not want her hands roaming over his body, he would not mind the hands of another on him? That he did not feel for her in that way?

She finished bathing, wrapping herself in a towel before exiting the bathroom to find that there was food on the bed. Still warm, though not scorching hot so it had to have been sitting there for a little bit. Rowan, however, was absent. Fine, she thought, but Aelin could not deny that little twinge of hurt and disgust that was taking place in her heart.

She sat, still wrapped in her towel and began eating the meal without tasting it at all. She was so wrapped in her thoughts that everything around her seemed like a type of dream. Blurred and hazy around the edges with only one thing astoundingly clear.

It was moments later that Rowan came back, hands full with two cups filled with something that smelled distinctly like chocolate and a small tray that had to hold something sweet, as she could smell the cinnamon and pumpkin she had scented upon first arriving at the inn.

He set the goodies on the bed. “I went back down to get some hot chocolate and pumpkin spice tarts. The cook says they’re the best in all of Erilea.”

If this was his attempt at an apology, he was doing a shit job at it.

But she could never resist sweets, especially chocolate, so Aelin took a cup and a tart and began enjoying them without so much as a thank you. Rowan sat down on the bed, keeping a healthy distance before he delved into his meal. She took a sip of the hot chocolate—Gods, it was heavenly. And the tart was even better.

Somewhere in the middle of enjoying her third tart and second cup of hot chocolate, Rowan retreated to the bathing chambers. He was gone for no more than ten minutes, and Aelin had just slipped on a long-sleeved red button-down shirt when he emerged, dressed in nothing but a pair of paints slung low on his hips and his hair dripping wet, but tied back in a bun atop his head.

Aelin climbed into bed, forcing her eyes away from his half-naked form, and blew out the bedside candle with a murmured, “Goodnight, Rowan.”

She could tell that he was just standing there in the middle of the bedroom, staring down at her. But it was moments before his deep voice disturbed the silence of the room as he said, “I was gathering information from her.” He needn’t specify who. “She was a common city whore from the brothel down the street, Aelin. Nothing more.”

Lies. There was absolutely nothing ‘common’ about that woman. From her full, sinful lips and deep brown skin, to the full swell of her breasts and petite build.

“It’s none of my business, Rowan. It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does,” he said. “It does matter, because it obviously upset you. And I must say that I am sorry Aelin, for having hurt you. It was never my intention.”

It was silent for a few moments, the only sounds being the high-pitched whistling of the wind and snow swirling about outside, people preparing for bed, candles being blown out, before the entire inn seemed to grow completely silent.

“Good night, Rowan,” she said again. A few heartbeats passed before Aelin felt the bed dip on the opposite side, Rowan coming to join her.

Gods damn her, she couldn’t seem to even consider sleep when he was right there, when he was so close and yet so far away. So Aelin lay with her back to him, staring at the wall while hoping and praying for sleep to come and take her away.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“Please tell me what you’re thinking.” Aelin knew it had to be well past ten, but it did not surprise her when Rowan’s voice disturbed the stillness in the room.

“Only if you return the favor.” He seemed to hesitate, but eventually agreed. “But you first,” she added quickly. Rowan groaned, and Aelin couldn’t help a small smile as he grumbled, “Fine.”

She heard him take a deep breath, as if preparing himself for a fight, noticed that he subtly cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m thinking that Lysandra and Aedion are probably showing great strength in restraining themselves from tearing each other’s throats out. I’m thinking that the small innkeeper should back away from the door and go mind her own business.” At this, Aelin indeed heard a quiet gasp and then shuffling as someone hurried down the stairs. Her smile grew. “I’m thinking that not talking to you for that amount of time was starting to drive me mad, and I missed you like hell. I’m thinking that I’m one of the biggest fools that ever lived from having hurt you. And I would sooner cut off my own arm than make that mistake again.”

Aelin wasn’t sure she was breathing. Of all the things she had expected him to say, that certainly wasn’t it. So she turned around to face him, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity…And found none.

She had so many things she longed to tell him. Things and feelings she had kept on a tight leash. A leash, Aelin realized, that had been loosening ever since she had seen him in that alley.

So she, too, took a deep breath, knowing that once she said the words she had been wanting to say for so long now, there’d be no undoing it. “I’m thinking that you’re an idiot, Rowan Whitethorn,” she replied. “And I’m an even bigger idiot for having fallen in love with you.” His eyes seemed to darken in the sliver of moonlight coming through the window. Aelin breathed, “Now you have to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking,” his voice had taken on a dangerous quality. So low and guttural as he said, “That I want to kiss you, Aelin Galathynius. I want to touch you, I want to find out how your lips would feel on mine. How your hands would feel in my hair, roaming over my body, touching me.” His gaze went to her lips. He growled. “I want to take you on this bed. I’m thinking that I want to fuck you over that table, and on the walls, and in the tub. Over and over again until that sneaky little innkeeper is forced to kick us out due to noise complaints. Because I can guarantee, Fireheart, that you’ll be moaning—screaming my name at the top of your lungs. And you won’t be able to help it.”

Rutting hell’s.

Rutting hell’s. 

Aelin did not know when she and Rowan had inched closer, as if by some invisible force, but she realized that he was now close enough that she could reach out and touch him if she wished. Realized that their breaths mingled.

His words had her nearly gasping for breath, sent her heart galloping, her pulse roaring through her veins and pooling at her core. She could scent his want, his lust-filled eyes finally meeting hers again.

“Are you all talk, Rowan? Or can your actions actually back up your words?” He grinned, canines gleaming wickedly.

“Turn around,” he quietly instructed. She obeyed, wondering just what in all the gods’ names he could possibly do that—

Her thoughts cut off abruptly as his lips met her neck. His breath fanned over where her shoulder and neck met, kissing where her pulse thrummed. Aelin’s body stiffened.

His hands soon joined his lips, one grazing her bare thigh, the other slowly unbuttoning her shirt. Aelin’s eyes screwed shut. Just a whisper of his thumb caressing the inside of her thighs had her grinding against him, silently begging for more.

In one swift movement, he had her on her back. Rowan hovered over her, their bodies so close that his warmth seeped into her. His lips kissed, followed by a brief, sharp pain that was his canines biting her, claiming her, before his tongue—gods damn her his tongue—caressing the spot he had just bit her.

And he continued this slow, pleasuring torture all the way down her throat, until his mouth hovered over her breasts, peaked despite the lack of chill in the room. 

And then he took her right breast into his mouth, licking and biting as his hand massaged her other breast. Aelin moaned, grasping the sheets as waves of pleasure tore through her.

His name was a breathy whisper on her lips. Just when she thought she would find release, he stopped, instead continuing his torturous assault of leaving a trail like purple-pink flowers blooming upon her pale skin.

Rowan eased himself off the bed, kneeling before it, before her. His hands wrapped around Aelin’s ankles, pulling her towards him. Evidence of where he touched were left on the sensitive skin inside her thighs. He was going to drive her to the brink of insanity with those gods damned teeth of his. Aelin didn’t think he could pleasure her any more than what he already was.

But then his mouth hovered over what was between her thighs, and she felt his breath on her. And she could have sworn he moaned before his fingers began to pleasure her.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Feeling her wetness for him, scenting her wanton desires nearly undid him. Her golden hair sprawled out on the pillows, her hands grasping the sheets, eyes fluttering and chest heaving as he pleasured her. The way she tended to bite down on her lower lip to contain the moans she so desperately wanted to release. She was so beautiful. 

Aelin was aware of the fact, and yet still held insecurities. Rowan had noticed how her eyes had flashed with hurt and despair at the sight of him flirting with that other woman. He had noticed how her eyes roamed over the whore’s body, immediately comparing it to her own and wondering if he perhaps preferred those type of women.

He planned on eliminating every once of self-doubt she had.

Aelin’s hips bucked off the bed, craving more of his touch but he used his other hand to pin her to the bed. “None of that,” he crooned.

“You little—” Her sentence was cut off as she gasped at one of Rowan’s fingers entering her. “Shit,” she breathed as he slowly began to pump his finger inside her, his mouth caressing her thighs. He added a finger, feeling her clench around him as he began to move faster, faster. Her chest was heaving, and his name sounded like that of a gods when she finally found her release, her hips wanting to buck off the bed but being stayed by his hand. 

She was barely able to come down from the last waves of pleasure before his tongue darted out, tasting her. He had imagined how she would taste, but his imagination paled in comparison to the real thing. 

One of her hands went to his hair, holding him to her as she writhed and moaned. His hands and mouth took turns, tasting her, pleasuring her. 

“Aelin,” he breathed against her. And at that, she lost it once more. Her back arched off the bed, toes curling as she was taken again.

Her eyes opened, meeting his as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked her pleasure off them. Aelin’s body shuddered, riding out the last waves.

But when Rowan rose, making as if to join her on the bed, she held up a finger, stopping him as she raised herself to her knees. 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Of all the things that had come out of Rowan’s mouth, wit matched with a sharp tongue, she had never imagined that he could have her nearly begging for release with nothing more than his teeth, hands, and tongue.

She held up a finger, stopping him. And he did so with a mixture of amusement and lust shining in his eyes. Her hands reached toward his naked chest, keeping his gaze every step of the way so that he knew, so that he could stop her at any moment should he wish.

“Get on with it, Fireheart.”

That was all the encouragement she needed before was on him. Pleasuring him as he did her. Her lips and breath on his neck, peppering kisses along his torso and leaving her mark on him. 

Rowan’s eyes had fluttered closed, nostrils flaring as she moved farther south, until her mouth was right above the waistband of his pants. She popped the button free—

So fast she hadn’t anticipated it, Rowan’s hands lashed out; One gripped both her hands, ceasing her advance, and the other lightly gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

For a moment she was afraid that she had gone too far. That kissing and marking his skin was fine, but him exposing himself in that way was off -limits. 

But then he lowered his lips to hers, and it was the answer to a thousand-year old riddle. It was the beginning and end of the universe and her body heated. It was hot—too hot—

An icy breeze swept through the room, blowing out the fireplace and kissing her heated cheeks. A hand slipped around her waist, and Rowan set her on the bed with a gentleness that made her heart stutter.

Aelin wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him down towards her, causing him to be flush against her body. She could feel the hard length of him through his pants and suddenly wanted him insider her now.

Again her hands went to the waistband of his pants, and this time, when she slowly began to peel them off him, he only growled that she go faster and stop teasing him. 

His pants joined her shirt on the floor, and Aelin’s mouth went dry at the sight of him–Fully naked before her. He was beautiful; every bit the Fae warrior underneath his clothes as she had imagined he’d be.

Their eyes met, Rowan lowering his head so that their brows met. He smelled of pine and snow and sweat, but her scent was there as well. Crackling embers and lavender wrapped around each other like the notes to a sweet melody.

Rowan nudged at her entrance, and Aelin bit her lip to stop the moan that had been about to pass from her lips.

“Get on with it, you bastard.” Rowan only chuckled, a sound she felt reverberate in her core before he entered her. Her nails raked down his bag, raising angry red lines as he pushed in, and in. And in.

He stilled, allowing her to adjust to his considerable length. 

Aelin closed her eyes, focusing on his breath coming out in hot, short spurts on her neck, his scent, the hard muscles of his back, his hands on her thighs, on how he seemed to fill every inch of her.

She breathed his name, and that was all it took before he slid out, then pushed back in. Slowly, at first. He worshiped her body, kissing her deeply as he moved inside her.

But Aelin didn’t want slow. 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Her hips lifted to meet his and he stilled, snarling softly in her ear. “Aelin,” he said, almost as a reprimand. When he didn’t move, she lifted her hips again. “Open your eyes,” he softly encouraged. She complied, and when he pulled out before slamming into her, her mouth formed a perfect O, a strangled gasp leaving from her lips as he slammed into her again. And again. And again.

His mouth met hers, swallowing her sounds of pleasure as he lifted her in his arms, their bodies still connected. Her back hit the wall, her arms snaking around his neck, his gripping her thighs as fucked her, hard and fast against the wall as he’d promised.

“Rowan,” she said his name between moans and sighs.

“You’re mine,” he growled against her throat. “You are mine, Aelin Galathynius. And I’m yours. To whatever end.”

He pounded into her, so rough that the few pictures decorating the walls fell of, so viciously she swore the window threatened to shatter.

She could feel her release coming for her again, but she needed to say it. Wanted to say it. “I’m yours, Rowan Whitethorn,” she breathed. “And you are mine. To whatever end.”

“I love you,” he said, and those whispered words were her undoing. She shattered completely around him, screaming his name and not caring who heard. He continued to pound into her as torrents of pleasure tore through her, until he, too found his release and her name off his lips sounded like a man worshiping a goddess.

And when she could finally find her voice, she reciprocating the words she had held in her heart for all this time.

~.~.~~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Rowan and Aelin got little sleep that night. 

He had fucked her, hard and rough against the wall again, bent her over the table and had his name leaving her lips the entire time. 

Then she had taken over, pleasuring him with her mouth, with her hands, with her teeth, and the sight of him coming undone at her doing was one she was sure would haunt her in her dreams for all time.

But then Rowan had lain her on the bed and made slow, sweet love to her. Hands roaming as he kissed her tenderly, the entire time telling her how he loved her.

But they had both grown so exhausted that finally, at nearly three in the morning, the two feel asleep, wrapped in each others arms. 

~End~

If I’m going to be using my starter more for like Justin quests (still hoping for that update lol) I need to give my starter a nickname……well time to stare at the horse till it comes to me

anonymous asked:

“I should have listened to everyone who told me this was a bad idea.” for ELANDRAS!!!!!!

I should have listened to everyone who told me this was a bad idea. Andras thinks frantically.

 Trees flash past on either side of him, the speed of his movements reducing them to blurs of green and brown with the occasional tiny burst of colour. The human lands are so barren and lifeless compared to the vast expanses of lush, vibrant beauty he’s used to in Spring. Dangerous. This land is dangerous for his kind. 

He can feel death snapping at his heels as he bounds farther and farther from the wall, forcing himself to run or else he knows he’ll stop, knows he won’t be able to do his duty. He should embrace the cold whisper of death’s foul breath upon his back. This is why he’s here, after all, to seek death at the hands of a hateful human, to free his lands, his people, his love. 

Lucien. He should have listened to Lucien. In truth the only one who had outright told him that this was a terrible idea, that he should stay. The other sentries had only looked away, refusing to meet his eyes when he had volunteered. Rather him than them, they had thought. Amarantha has destroyed the Spring Court. Even though it’s still relatively intact…They’re broken, beaten, acting only on the instinct to save their own skins. That was why he had come. That was why he’d had no choice. 

Lucien had argued with him, had snarled at him, paced up and down in the study, made argument after argument about why he should stay, why he shouldn’t leave. The court needed him. Tamlin needed him. He led the sentries and they needed him. He was a symbol for the people and they needed him, trusted him, felt stronger knowing he was protecting them. Andras had listened to all of it, waiting, selfishly, to hear him say those words, ‘I need you.’ 

If he had said them like that, straight to his face in that room then maybe…Maybe he would have listened. Maybe he would have stayed. 

He knows now that he’d been an idiot. Lucien had said that. He had said that he needed him, said that he loved him over and over and over. Andras had just refused to listen to him. And now he’s here, in these hateful lands again, risking his life, offering himself as bait. A lamb sent to the slaughter in a wolf’s clothing. 

Panting hard, Andras stops for a moment, takes stock of his bearings. The forest is quiet, still, seemingly utterly devoid of any life. Perhaps the wild creatures are simply wise enough to recognise a faerie when they see one. Or perhaps…Perhaps another lean winter has seen this forest picked clean by desperate human hunters, perhaps- 

A sudden high pitched scream splits the air around them. Andras doesn’t know what makes him act, shock, instinct, or a nature that’s been honed by centuries of training to respond to such cries, to the sound of someone in peril. He plunges through the trees towards the sound, the air now full of frantic pleas for help. 

He halts just before he reaches the clearing, hunkering down behind the line of trees, just out of sight. The girl is young, unmistakably human, reeking of fear as she backs herself into a tree, her eyes wide and petrified. The basket on the ground at her feet has sent a few feeble roots and herbs scattering across the forest floor but she seems not to have noticed. Her great brown eyes are wide and terrified as she takes in the three lean, rabid wolves stalking slowly towards her. 

He should leave her to her fate. This gentle thing is never going to be able to kill him, is never going to be able to kill anything. But he can’t. He can’t just turn and walk away and let the girl be savaged. Even if she’s so thin and starved she might die in a few weeks anyway. It’d probably be kinder if he just allowed her a quick death here and now but…He can’t ignore the terrified whimper that breaks from her. 

With an echoing snarl that seems to tremble around the forest Andras launches himself at the wolves, teeth bared, hackles raised. He slaughters one in a heartbeat, leaves the other for dead and sends the other limping away in fright, a deep slash across the muzzle, all in seconds. 

Breathing heavily, his breath forming a small cloud of mist in the air before him, he swings his head around to look up at the girl. She’s sunk to the floor, her eyes wide, her skin deathly pale she stares at him, whimpering, trying to back away from him, still looking terrified. He realises she must think he’s going to kill her, that he chased the wolves off to have her for himself but…

But then her expression changes, her mouth parts slightly. She looks even more terrified than before but…There’s a sense of awe in her now as well as she stares up at him. Then she whispers a breathless, “Thank you.” Andras blinks at her, shocked, and suddenly wishes that he could speak to this girl somehow, communicate to her what her gratitude means. He’s been risking his life for years now and no-one ever thought to just say…Thank you. 

He takes a step closer to her, without quite knowing why he does so, hoping she’ll kill him or praying that she won’t he doesn’t know which is worse. She raises a trembling hand, reaching out to touch him but he jerks away, diving back into the trees, leaving her alone in the clearing, trembling, stunned, staring after him. 

Her beautiful doe’s eyes haunt him as he ends his shift and returns to Spring. 

Lucien is half furious, half deeply relieved when he staggers back through the manor doors, utterly exhausted, but all in one piece. Tamlin demands to know the reason for the human scent that clings to him and, duty-bound, Andras tells him everything that had happened to him. 

A week later and he’s heading back to the mortal lands, Tamlin at his side. This time he rides his horse, sitting straight backed and proud, a high fae at his master’s side. He had never expected this to happen. The girl hadn’t touched him, had had such a gentle, guileless look about her that he suspected she might have felt guilt about pulling the plants from the ground in case she might have hurt them. She doesn’t deserve this, shouldn’t be dragged into these games but….They had agreed. 

Andras had come in contact with a human and death had found them in that clearing with the wolves. It might be enough, if they could lie convincingly enough to Amranatha. Tamlin and Lucien had agreed that they should at the very least try. They were getting desperate. There was less than a year until the breaking of the curse when they would all be damned anyway. They had to try something, for the sake of her people too, even if she doesn’t know it. 

Still, it’s with a heavy heart that Andras retraces his steps for his High Lord, leading him back to the place where they had found the girl. From there they make their way to the outskirts of a small town, to a small, ramshackle hovel that contains the girl, her two sisters, and their father. The sisters plead and roar and rage but Tamlin is adamant and drags the girl from the cottage, whispering that she’ll go. She strayed too far into the forest, she nearly got herself killed, she owes a blood debt to the faeries, she must go. 

Her name is Elain, Andras overhears from outside the cottage where he waits, guarding the horses, while Tamlin does his part at terrorising the girl and her family in his beast form. When she steps out of the house, trembling violently from head to foot, asking her elder sister, Nesta, to please continue caring for her garden while she’s away, Andras stares down at her from his horse. 

She looks exactly the same as he had remembered. Painfully thin, in spite of her hollowed out cheeks and slightly sunken eyes…She’s still pretty. Delicate and graceful her steps are small and controlled as she moves away from the cabin. Her sisters appear in the door, the younger restraining the elder as she thrashes like a caged wildcat, trying to get to her sister. 

Andras’ eyes however flick quickly back to Elain. She’s staring straight at him, seemingly oblivious to the struggle behind her, Tamlin stalking towards her. To his utter shock she bobs a quick curtsy to him and he stares at her in utter bemusement until she looks up at him and says softly, “Thank you for rescuing me that day.” 

Andras gapes at her in astonishment. Precious few fae he’s known for centuries can recognise him in that form, and yet this human girl- “How?” he demands, startled. 

Elain opens her mouth to reply but cuts herself off with a little yelp of surprise as Tamlin lifts her up as though she’s a doll and sets her on the horse in front of Andras. Settling herself with as much dignity as she can muster with her threadbare dress riding up her thighs she turns back to him and says simply, “Your eyes.” 

Andras doesn’t get a chance to respond as Tamlin urges the horses into motion, carrying them away from the cottage and the hoarse screams of Elain’s sisters. She doesn’t look at him as they ride and Tamlin’s magic causes her to sleep before they reach the wall crossing. Andras says nothing about the use of magic, just keeps a tight grip on the girl to stop her falling from the saddle. 

They arrive at the manor at last. Tamlin wakes Elain on the border of the manor grounds and she’s staring around with huge, wide eyes as elaborate gardens and the great, sprawling mansion. He strides into the manor, no doubt to fetch Lucien, leaving Andras to tend to Elain and the horses. 

It seems, however, that the girl who, Andras is increasingly suspecting is stronger than anyone might guess, isn’t done shocking him. He slides from the mare’s back first then reaches up, bracing his hands firmly at Elain’s waist then lifting her carefully down from the saddle, setting her gently on her feet. She begins thanking him again but a loud crash from the opposite side of the stable, where Lucien has just entered. 

His lover is staring at Elain, his eyes wide, his entire body slack with shock. Concerned, Andras takes a step towards him, away from Elain, who looks rather alarmed by this strange behaviour, shifting a little closer to him on instinct. 

Lucien takes no notice of either of them, keeping his eyes firmly locked on Elain’s as he whispers three hoarse words that shatter Andras’ entire world. 

“You’re my mate.” 

Sometimes Rain Falls

A BTS Fanfiction

Type: AU/Alternative Universe

Summary: Sometimes a normal life is a good one to lead; its nice…its easy…
But sometimes, normal isn’t the way that things were meant to be. And when you’re chosen as a possible candidate for one of the kingdom’s 7 princes, life isn’t as nice and easy as you always presumed it to be…especially when you catch the eye of more than one of them…

Trailer

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3

You’re excitedly bouncing in place next to Hoseok half an hour later, having changed clothes as quickly as you could, before running back to meet him in exactly the same place, frowning in confusion when you realise he’d already changed, but smiling at him none the less when he reaches his hand out for you to hold, before beginning to pull you down the gravel path that, when taken to the right, lead to the stables.

As soon as you catch sight of the first glistening black stallion you feel your breath escape your lungs, your astonishment bringing Hoseok to a stand still, and you can see in your peripheral vision the way he feels you slow; turning to see what was wrong and widening his eyes worriedly before he sees your expression of wonder.

‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ he asks, smiling fondly at you and chuckling when you nod dumbfoundedly.

‘Which one would you like to ride?’ he asks, gesturing around to the stables set out in a sort of hexagon, a number of horses stood outside being tended to. But its only when you see the beautiful dapple black mare shuffling agitatedly to one corner of the stables, trying to get the attention of one of the hands helping out with another horse, that you know exactly which one was perfect for you.

‘Am I allowed to ride that one?’ you ask Hoseok quietly, gesturing to the horse, and looking up at him to see him squinting his eyes slightly, almost as if he was judging your choice in a bad way, before he looks back at you and leans down suddenly to drop a kiss to the edge of your mouth- the move seeming as though he’d changed his mind at the last minute- having originally been aiming for your mouth.

‘If that’s the one you want-‘

Keep reading

In Bloom Shall We Wake

It got requested that I write a request based on the Hobbit which I love! So here it is as requested, I hope you enjoy! If anyone would like to request more of this or anything else or just wants to chat, my ask box is always open. *Based on a gif that isn’t my own*

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Request by; Anon

Request;  Ooh this is so exciting! Okay could I maybe request something where you’re a human who somehow finds herself in Middle earth and the first people you come across are The Company and they take you under their wing and you help them in their quest. Then maybe along the way Kili begins to fall in love with you and is fascinated by your tattoos. Unf, ultimate dreams right there haha! Thanks lover, no pressure if you don’t fancy it though!

Warnings; None

The man approached you, as if from nowhere he walked steadily and slowly towards you. It was just dawn and the sun peeped from over the hill, greeting you to a new day with it’s comforting warmth. You’d usually wake up around this time, your job of being a journalist required you to do so, it had become routine, waking up in the dark, making breakfast and getting ready before heading out the door as the sun rose to which you’d wish it a good morning and hope it was as ready as you were for the day ahead before you’d catch the early train to work, you’d come to enjoy your routine, it was quiet, not a soul was around, usually. Apart from today. Today was very peculiar indeed. At first you believed him just to be an elderly man, perhaps in need by the way he was walking but as he moved closer to you his stature changed, he was tall wearing draped clothing and walking with a large cane of some sorts. You took a step back, debating whether to turn and walk back up the path you had came from to find safety in your home but there was something about his aura that didn’t seem threatening. Upon reaching you he gave a small smile, to which you reciprocated, thinking he would just be another passer by but he wasn’t he stopped right in front of you and any attempt you made to get round him, he blocked. 

“You are Y/n Y/L/N, am I correct?” His tone was deep, filled with knowledge and wisdom, your ears pricked up and you nodded in reply, feeling speechless, how did this strange man know your name? 

“You can answer you know, I won’t harm you.” He spoke abruptly after your silent response and you shamefully looked down at the floor before looking back up at him. He wore draped grey robes and a half pointed grey hat, long wispy white hair cascaded down his shoulders and back, camouflaging into his moustache and beard, his face was aged, with wrinkles defining his brow bone. 

“Yes, I am. And you are?” You queried, trying to sound defensive and intimidating as you hadn’t fully figured out whether this man was a threat or not.

“I, am looking for someone to share in an adventure.” He was blunt, quirking his head to the side and raising his brows, a mysterious gleam shining in his bright blue eyes. An adventure, that was it, no introduction or anything.

“An adventure? Of what sort.” You in turn tilted your chin upwards slightly, a mix of confusion spreading across your face as he chuckled and nodded appealingly.

“You will have to come with me and find out.” He held out his hand to you and you were reluctant. There were only two possible outcomes of this; one, the man was crazy and escaped from his home to which you’d have to call the police to escort him back, two and very unlikely, you would follow him and have this bizarre adventure. After humming it over, you’d decided that either way this would make an interesting article in your company’s magazine so why not, you were a journalist after all, it was your job to be daring. Taking his rough calloused hand, he smiled and began laughing hard. Ah, so he was insane. Banging his wooden cane on the ground he laughed harder before looking at you with delight.

“You should probably close your eyes now.” You hesitantly obliged as you and the man were cocooned in a swirling ball of white light, lifting your from the ground you felt nauseous and wanted to scream, the ground had literally fallen from your feet though you were unable to fully tell as the light would have blinded you if you’d opened your eyes. Not so gracefully crashing to the ground, you grunted impacting the fresh smelling grass. Wait grass? You were in the middle of a city less than a minute ago. Creaking your eyes open you gasped when you saw thousands of trees swaying in the breeze to your right, a long winding river to your left and green acres of grass as far as the eye could see. The man was stood gazing down upon you as you stared, mouth wide at your new surroundings. You stumbled to your feet, still feeling dizzy after what ever had just happened to you. Birds tweeting filled your ear drums as different flowers danced by your feet, you watched the man gather a horse and cart before beckoning you to join him. Reaching up and pulling on the wooden handle, you lifted yourself into his cart as he whipped the ropes to his horse, kick starting it into motion. 

“You were the last recruit. We shouldn’t be far from Bilbo and the others now.” he never took his eyes off the gravel road and you marvelled at your surroundings, tiny houses burrowed in the hills with large rounded doors and small stained glass windows shined in the light, each one with a different homely item that made it stand out from the rest, whether it was tiny flower pots or oddly large leather boots by the front door, each house was different. 

“Recruit? Bilbo? Others? What? Who are you?” You continual questioning tired the man until he sighed and once happy that his eyes could leave the road he turned to you. 

“I am Gandalf the Grey. You will meet Bilbo and the others very soon. Ask no more questions.” He was stern with you and you felt as if you were a naughty five year old being told off by their parent, who was he to talk to you in a demanding manner, still you didn’t want to fight back, he was the only one you knew in this bizarre new world. You had travelled for what seemed to be a decade with this man, Gandalf the Grey or more Gandalf the Grumpy and the sun was saying it’s final goodbyes before retiring for the night, you spoke little with your new friend apart from when you were reaching in the back and getting these purple fruits and what he called ‘lembas bread’ which was surprisingly filling and the purple fruits were divine being a sweet a grapefruit but with a more distinctive taste, like dragon fruits. Your eyes grew heavy as the night crickets came out to serenade you and the tutting of the horse lulled you into falling even sleepier than usual, turning your head to the side and trying to curl up into as much of a ball as the cart would allow you soon drifted into slumber. 

“Who is she?”

“Why is she here? She is not needed here. You shouldn't have brought some human into this.”

“She is valuable to us Oakenshield and don’t you protest otherwise.”

“She’s never been here before, never seen anything like this, how does that make her valuable?!”

“I don’t know she could be valuable, I mean, she’s pretty enough, that’s something right?”

“Oh Kili calm down, what makes you think you’re her type anyway, I’m sure she’ll go for the more attractive older brother, me.”

“Fili, Kili stop that. You don’t know what she is, you don’t know where she’s been she could have rabies for all we know.”

“She is not welcome here.”

The suns warm rays shone on your face, alerting your body that it was time to wake up and go to work, you’d had a very odd dream about meeting a mad man with a pointy had that perhaps you’d tell Claire at work but for now it was time to start the day. Fluttering open your eyes were greeted by the blare of the sun, though something was different, going into focus you sat up, you were in a wooden cart, outside, hearing multiple voices in the near distance. Were you still dreaming? You had to be, right? You yawned and stretched and the white and black spotted horse neighed loudly, as if it was wishing you a good morning. You hopped down from the cart, gravel and dirt crunching under your shoes and you waltzed to the horse, patting it’s mane gently and rubbing it’s nose, it just blinked and shook its head at you, pesky flies sticking to it’s face, you did your best to shoe them away but the horse stomped its feet and you took a step back, acknowledging that, that was probably the extent of your animal friendship. Finally realising that your surroundings were real and that you were in fact in a different realm or universe perhaps you wandered to find the man that had brought you here, hearing his distinct voice in the distance. You wandered through the trees to find a circle of different men, though they were smaller than men and had very intricate hair designs, each one. They sat talking around a died out ash fire and they all had quirky accents, you hid behind the wide stump of a tree to listen in, you could see Gandalf stood, smoking a pipe of something as another man stood, marching back and forth you noticed they were talking about you.

The marching man wore a long fur coat stretching to the back of his knees, he wore a silk and chain suit of what seemed to be armour and furred pants with furred boots and leather straps. His hair was long, deep brown with slight strands of grey mixed in, some strands of hair was braided but for the most of it, it dangled off his shoulders, swaying as he marched. His facial hair was thick and dark, though kept neater than most of the other men’s, in fact they all seemed to have strange beards with braids in them, ranging from colours of fiery orange to brilliant white, all wearing similar outfits as the standing man. There was only one who was neat, no beard yet still mousy brown wispy hair, flicking off in different directions. He was distinctively different to all the others though still as small. 

“I told you already, she doesn't belong here.”

“Why not Thorin? Gandalf said she could be valuable to us.”

“I did not say she could be I said she is and if anyone speaks out against it one more time then I will make sure there’s something for you to protest about.” Clouds formed around Gandalf when he spoke and the others fell quiet. You felt perhaps it was time to introduce yourself to the group. Appearing from behind the tree you cleared your throat and all eyes fell on you, all twenty-six pairs fell on you. You cheeks flared red and you were observed by a mix of stone faces or ones with disgust or ones that tried to hide their laughter at your embarrassment. Gandalf stood straight walking over to you and resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Everyone, this is Y/n. Get to know her she will be staying with us for a long time.” He smiled, his eyes boring into the man who was storming around before. A few of the men waved at you, giving slight smiles but one gave a warming smile, admiring your features. Gandalf once again cleared his throat and began pointing at each man.

“This is, Nori”, Nori gave a small ‘hello’ and a wave before getting back to fiddling with his weaponry. All the men did similar things as Gandalf introduced each one.

“This is, Dori and Bofur and Gloin and Dwalin and Balin and Oin and Bifur and Bombur and Thorin and Bilbo and Ori and Fili and last but not least Kili.” They all simultaneously bid you a good day apart from Kili whom strided towards you and gave an outstretched hand, which you gladly shook. His smile was warm and comforting, the stubble of his growing beard moved with his face, his deep eyes were ones you could easily get lost in and his long hair tangled over his shoulders. It was parted slightly and tied at the back as to not completely cover his handsome face, one you were quick to admire. You smiled politely as he spoke.

“So, you’re Y/n, it’s nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy our company whilst you’re with us.” He walked you to a nearby rock, which you both sat upon watching the others, Nori, Dori and Bofur getting into a ‘who has the most terrifying weapon and attack method’ whilst Dwalin was sat tutting at laughing at them. Balin hung around Thorin who appeared to be the leader of the group, though you weren’t 100% sure as it was Gandalf who appeared to hold all the power over the group. As you took in all the different men and their features Kili gazed at you, admiring your soft face that was dotted lightly with freckles, his eyes trailed down you stopping at your wrist when he noticed a white mark on it. He wanted to question you about it but wasn’t sure on how to approach the subject so instead just did what any dwarf would do and grabbed your wrist, causing you to jump and let out a yelp in surprise. He immediately backed off, cheeks flaring bright red and you laughed. Turning your wrist to see your white tattoo of a dream catcher, it was only small and dainty but it suited your personality, inside its web weren’t beads but small planets and the feathers were detailed so much that they appeared real. It was all in white ink which made it stand out more but also less than usual black tattoos, it was something different, something unique which you were. 

“Admiring my tattoo huh?” You laughed, showing Kili and he shuffled closer to you to get a better look, twisting and turning your wrist he held it high, gazing at it with childlike wonder as wide stretched grin crept over his face.

“Yes. You’re very beautiful - it’s very beautiful.” he stammered once he’d realised what he said and you smiled, blush filling your cheeks. You tried to play it off but you couldn’t help feeling flattered and charmed from this man.

“Thank you.” You spoke quietly and Kili let your arm drop, the two of you gazing into each others eyes before Kili was called away with some of the other men snickering at the two of you. Gandalf wandered over to you, sitting besides you and offering you a puff of his pipe, to which you politely declined. He supped on it before chuckling.

“I see you have an admirer already.” He turned to you with a wink and you both watched as Kili was being teased by Fili. “Brothers do like to tease each other don’t they.” You laughed, watching the two start wrestling as Bilbo tried to part them awkwardly.

“Yes, I think I’m going to enjoy this adventure.”