A/N: Hello people! So this is my second post on here; I got such positive reviews on my last fic and they really warmed my heart, thank you so so much to those who took the time to leave a few words, I can't tell you how grateful I am – especially since I was so nervous about posting for the first time and those reviews really help ease my nerves.
The reviews are what made me want to keep posting! Thank you again. Okay I need to stop being sappy now, but just by the way: if you like this story, please read the A/N at the end, I need your opinion on something. Okay, now I'm done. I hope you enjoy!
Pregnant
It had been a shock at first. It had been a big shock. Actually, it had been a very big shock, if he was telling the truth. He'd avoided Aelin days after realising what was going on. He had needed the time to sort himself out.
Aelin had no idea. She thought she was sick because she had the flu or something. She didn't know that she . . . they . . . Gods above, he needed to tell her. It was her body, after all; she had a right to know what was happening to her own body.
But dark thoughts wanted to creep in: what if Aelin didn't want this? What if she thought it was too early? What if this didn't make her as happy as it made Rowan? What if it was too much for her and she didn't think she could take it?
No. Just as soon as the thoughts started to emerge, he locked them back up. He wouldn't give them an inch.
What if what if what if?
So many things could happen, but there was only one way to know exactly how Aelin would handle the news: to actually tell her.
Later one night, as they were entering their chambers after a long council meeting, Rowan turned to one of the guards outside, just before the door to their chambers closed, and said, "Inform the cooks to have two trays of food brought up to us. The Queen and I won't be going to dinner tonight." The guard nodded and started down the hall.
"What was that about?" Aelin asked, her voice coming from their bedroom.
Rowan followed her in and started shedding his weapons and belts, putting them away. He didn't particularly feel like springing the news on her right then and there while he walked around their room changing his attire, and as Aelin struggled with her corset, so he simply said, "I know you're not feeling well and today was exhausting. I think you should just put on some more comfortable clothes and relax for tonight."
"And by 'more comfortable clothes' would you mean one of my scandalous nightgowns?" Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she went on. "What kind of games are you playing, Prince?" She slipped on a very, very thin nightgown that left nothing to the imagination, and started sauntering over. "If you wanted some alone time with me, all you had to do was say so." As her last word left her lips, she tangled her fingers in his hair, and pressed his lips to her own. Then her hands made their way down to start unbuttoning his shirt. By the Wyrd he could never get tired of kissing her, holding her in his arms, tasting her . . .
And then her scent hit him.
Right.
That.
He had to tell her now, but before he was even able to pull away, she did so first. And ran to their washroom. And heaved into the toilet.
Rowan was close behind, and – kneeling down on the tile floor beside her – held Aelin's hair out of her face while she threw up. He rubbed her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner, and whispered calming things into the silences that came between bouts of vomiting.
A loud groan emitted from where Aelin's head was half-in, half-out of the toilet.
She breathed, "I'm so sorry it's not you it's this rutting flu I don't even know where if came from and I mean it's actually starting to worry me because I've had this for nearly two weeks now and it doesn't seem to be going away and – "
Rowan cut off her rambling. "I know what's making you sick," he said quickly yet quietly. Aelin's head shot up and she looked dizzy, so she rested her head back down on her arm.
"What are you saying," she mumbled. "You mean it's not just the flu?"
Rowan didn't know how to say this, didn't know how to handle any of it. Rowan thought he had faced it all after three hundred years of life in this world, and yet, she was always getting him to do new things.
"No, it's, um, definitely not the flu." he answered pathetically.
If looks could spit, Rowan would be swimming.
"Are you going to make me guess what's happening to me? Is there something I must do for His Buzzardness for me to win over this secret knowledge?" Aelin seethed.
Rowan had to forcibly stop his lips from twitching upwards, but then he remembered that she was feeling terrible, and Aelin thought she knew what was going on, up until he told her she was wrong and then didn't actually tell her what was the matter – basically, he wasn't helping.
"I'm sorry, Aelin," he began. "I just don't know exactly how to say this. Please try to stay calm."
She must have seen something in his face. The fear he was so carefully trying to mask, maybe. Whatever it was, it made her brow uncrease, and Aelin sat up straighter.
"You're starting to scare me, Rowan," she said, her eyes searching his face. Aelin was now sat cross legged, an arm still draped over the bowl of the toilet, while Rowan knelt back on his heels, facing her.
"Aelin, you're –" Gods, the words were hard to say. "You're pregnant, Aelin."
Silence stretched between them. Aelin's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, her eyes wide.
"What do you mean? How? When?" she choked out. He gave her a look that said, You know how and I've lost count of when.
Aelin's eyes dropped down to her belly and fixed there as her chest started to spasm. She gulped air, her breaths laboured, her entire body shaking with the strength of her shock.
"I'm –" Aelin tried to force out words, but couldn't seem to form full sentences. Rowan understood, he had been practically the same for days after he realised what the change in her scent was. It was hard to accept, and she probably couldn't say it because she couldn't believe it yet.
Aelin's hand crept to her belly – as she still didn't tear her eyes away – and Rowan noticed her shaking hands. Fear ran unchecked through his veins. He couldn't see her face, couldn't judge how this was making her feel: if she was happy, or terrified, or if she was already thinking of ways to tell him that this wasn't what she wanted.
Rowan tried to reach for her, to sooth her, to get her to calm down. She just needed to breathe.
But she recoiled, both hands going to press themselves against her stomach as she choked out, "I'm pregnant." Her voice was a shaking whisper as she said, "I'm with child. I'm having a baby. A little baby. A child." she stumbled over her words, stressing that last one, trying to convince herself of the enormity of the situation. Of what was actually happening. Of what it all meant.
Rowan reached for Aelin's knee and squeezed it.
"Fireheart," he murmured.
She looked up at him then: her eyes gleaming, her hair stuck to her face with her tears, her chin wobbling, but her breaths steadied when she said, "We're having a baby." her face bright, her smile incredulous.
That joy – that pure happiness written on every line of her face, in every shade of her Ashryver eyes – it took his breath away. He could only stare at his queen, his heart, the love of his life, for a few moments before he could speak again, because seeing her face light up like that . . . It was still such a rare thing – a rare thing few ever got to see – and seeing her like that caused him to lose any train of thought he might have had.
"You're not –" Rowan began. "You're okay? With this, I mean? This is what you want?" There. He'd asked them, the questions he'd only been able to escape in sleep for the past week. He had kept them locked up, in a back drawer of his mind, not daring to voice them, even to himself.
"Of course," Aelin said, her eyes searching the room, looking anywhere that wasn't Rowan's eyes. "I mean this could be my only chance of having a child, or it could take me a hundred years to get this lucky again. And this is the chance to provide my kingdom with an heir, to secure my bloodline, what would people think if I threw that away – "
Rowan cut her off as he reached forward and cupped her face so she would look at him. That wasn't what he'd asked and she knew it.
"I don't give a shit what anyone would think. I don't give a shit if it takes us another five hundred years. And I don't care if we never have children, as long as I have you." Aelin's eyes shone. "All I care about is that you're okay. Your welfare, your health, your happiness: they're all that matter. If this isn't what you want –"
It was Aelin's turn to cut him off as she said, "This is what I want." Her hands reached up and covered his. "I want this. You, me, this child: a family. That's all I want, all I could ever hope for."
Rowan's vision clouded. He loved this woman, loved her with all his fractured, broken, torn up, yet healing, heart. He leaned forward, but she stopped him with a finger on his lips saying, "I don't think you want to kiss me right now. I did just throw up."
"I don't care." Rowan growled.
A hand on his chest, just as they heard a faint knock on their chamber doors.
"I care," Aelin said, making to get up. "I need to go wash this horrible taste out of my mouth, and could you please open that? It's probably the food you ordered be sent up." Rowan was already on his feet, helping her up and then setting her down on the closed lid of the toilet by the time she'd finished speaking.
"Okay," he said. "I'll be in the dinning room. Take your time." Rowan dropped a slow kiss onto the top of her head and made his way out of the washroom, gently closing the door behind him.
He had never felt as light as he did at that moment, walking back through their bed chamber and across the foyer to the oak double doors. He had never been this happy in his life. She wants this. She wants this as much as I do.
Rowan opened one of the doors and beaconed the servants with the food trays towards the dinning room. They moved quickly and efficiently, and were gone before Aelin had even emerged yet.
Something tugged in Rowan's lower abdomen, something telling him to go to Aelin even though she was only three rooms away. It wasn't the blood oath and it wasn't because she was in danger or hurt, but . . . He had this need, this need to go to her to be near her and his unborn child.
So Rowan made his way back towards their room, and just as he was entering he heard Aelin's voice say so softly he wouldn't have caught it if it wasn't for his Fae hearing. "My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I will not be afraid."
Rowan smiled a sad smile. He knew she must be afraid, having a child wasn't nothing; her life – their life – was about to change drastically. She was still so young, and the scars her kingdom bore were still fresh, not yet fully healed. Matters were already hard for her to deal with, she was still adapting to this life. Nothing had ever been easy for Aelin, and things were about to become even more hellish.
But he would be there. He would be there for her, and their child. Always. These obstacles were not only hers to surmount, she did not have to be alone and she wouldn't be. Ever again.
Rowan waited, leaning against one of the intricately carved posts of their mahogany bed, and a few moments later Aelin opened the bathroom door. She took half a step forward, but Rowan was already there, holding her, hefting her up and carrying her out of the room bridal style.
"Territorial Fae beast," Aelin mumbled. Rowan chuckled a little and pecked her on the forehead.
In the dinning room he set her down on one of the velvet chairs and went about looking for more cushions to stuff all around and under her. He heard her huff some more about his fussiness and Rowan's face softened as he sat down on the chair next to hers.
His smile disappeared though, when he caught a glimpse of her face.
"What is it?" he asked when he saw her troubled expression.
"How do you know?" she answered with a question of her own. "How can you be so sure?" He knew what she meant.
"I didn't notice at first, but slowly your scent started to change," he explained. "It was still your scent, but there was something else there as well; something of both of us, something new, something . . . like if joy had a smell. Something that when I scented it, I knew it was more precious than words could even begin to describe. It was the beginning of life. And so I knew."
Rowan looked over to see Aelin smiling at him, her eyes gleaming again, and he also noticed that her hand was resting protectively on her belly. She reached over and intertwined their fingers to hold on tightly for a few moments, before untangling her hand and going back to her food.
They ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence, both of them lost in their thoughts.
When they were done – Aelin not finishing her plate, to Rowan's great unease, but insisting she was fine, just not feeling good after all that vomiting – Rowan called for a servant to clear away their plates.
Rowan took Aelin's hand and said, "Come. You should lie down for a bit." And Aelin didn't object as he lead her to the edge of their plush mattress and started fluffing up cushions to make her more comfortable, then kissed her chastely for one long breath.
As he made to pull away, Aelin reached up and held on to his shirt, a silent request not to stop.
Rowan growled deep and leaned down further, pulling Aelin to him. Her hands were again on the back of his neck, in his hair, her thighs squeezing his hips. Aelin purred as his thumb brushed against her sensitive breasts, and he groaned at the feel of her, the silk of her nightgown nearly as soft as her skin.
He pressed up against her more, and Rowan knew he was being paranoid and ridiculous, but he didn't want to crush Aelin's stomach, so he flipped them over resulting in her being on top, her legs on either side of him, her nightgown now hiked up, exposing a hell of a lot.
Aelin leaned down and Rowan got an eye full of her cleavage before she captured his mouth with hers. She started fumbling with the buttons of his shirt again. His hands couldn't stop stroking the softer-than-silk skin of her thighs, then they went to rest on the small of her back, lightly brushing the small scars there and the ends of the bigger ones he had tattooed over. Scars he'd had to fill in more than once, he remembered with loathing. The memories made him hold her tighter.
Aelin got every button of his shirt undone and didn't even bother removing it, just opened it to expose his bare chest before her mouth was everywhere, devouring every inch of exposed skin. It made his blood boil. He wanted her now.
"So what's the policy regarding my bedding you while you're with child?" Rowan asked with a grin.
"I don't know, this is the first time I've ever had to think about it," she said, and added playfully. "In case you didn't know, this is my first child."
She leaned in for more, but Rowan had stiffened. This wasn't the first time he was set to be a father, but he still had no idea how it all worked, didn't know how to deal with it, because he hadn't been there last time . . . even though he should have. And what had happened to his unborn child and the woman who had borne that baby . . .
"I am not Lyria," Aelin said forcefully.
Rowan sat up so that they were face to face, Aelin still in his lap, and said, "I know. It's just . . . Gods, if anything were to happen to you –"
"Nothing will," Aelin said. "I'm fine. We're safe."
"You're a queen," he reminded her. "You'll never be safe."
"I know," she said. "But for now we're at peace, and you desperately need to learn how to relax."
"I wouldn't count on that happening any time soon," Rowan said. "Seeing as the woman who owns me, heart and soul, is pregnant with my child and all that." The playfulness faded from his voice as he said, "I can't lose you, Aelin. I can't. I wouldn't survive it. I know you're strong – Gods, you're so strong. Even I would shake if faced with some of the things you have prevailed over – you're the strongest person I know. I know you're not Lyria, I know she was powerless and you're the most powerful Fae alive, but . . . I can't help but worry."
He didn't need to say the words out loud. She knew he would forever blame himself for Lyria's death. For the fact that he wasn't there. That he didn't know she was carrying their child. He would forever wonder what he could have done differently to save her.
He couldn't go through that again with Aelin. If he did, he would die. Whether it be by his own hand or the darkness that would eat him alive, he wouldn't survive it. If worlds separated them, then he would get back to her. By any means necessary.
Aelin's eyes softened and she leaned her forehead against his.
"I love you," Aelin whispered. "We're in this together. To whatever end, remember? So I'll endeavour to cope with your territorial instincts, but you have to trust me. I may be pregnant, but that doesn't mean I'm useless all of a sudden."
"Of course not," Rowan sputtered. "Of course not, that's not what I think, and I trust you with my life, it's just –"
Aelin cut him off.
"I know," she soothed. "I know, it's okay." She kissed him again and he pulled her down with him once again, but the heat was gone, this was slow and loving, and neither strayed from the other's lips. They stayed like that for the Gods knew how long, until Aelin pulled away and said, "Well I'm not sure what the rules are, so maybe we shouldn't for now." referring to his previous question. She then added, "And I don't feel particularly sexy at the moment, trust me."
Aelin slid off of Rowan and instead nestled into his side, her head cushioned on his shoulder.
"You're beautiful," Rowan said onto the crown of her head where he was pressing soft kisses. "And the most desirable woman in this world. You have no idea the things you do to me." He playfully bit where her ear curved up into a point.
"Yeah well I don't feel it. I vomited before and I'm still nauseous, and I keep thinking that every part of me will swell and balloon up to the Gods even know what size. We'll see if you want me then, Prince."
At that, his eyes darted to her belly of their own accord. Gods. Another being was growing inside of her right now. A part of her and a part of him. Rowan wasn't sure he had fully come to realise the magnitude of what was happening to them. It was a miracle. A gift really. They had been blessed. And he didn't care that this woman in his arms was probably going to smell of bile for a while, or that her body was going to get bigger. None of those things could make him love her any less. She was giving him the gift of life. She was giving him a family.
What had he ever done to deserve this woman? The answer was simple: he didn't deserve her.
He tilted her chin gently upwards and stroked her cheek as he kissed her again, trying to convey that he didn't care. She was his entire world and nothing could ever change that.
Rowan broke away as he felt Aelin reach for his hand – the one that wasn't trapped under her – and let her guide it to her lower abdomen. She then rested her hand on top of his and he felt her warm calluses press into the back of his hand.
They were both silent for a moment.
"I'm going to be a father," Rowan said around the ever-growing lump in his throat. He hadn't said it out loud until then.
He couldn't see Aelin's face, but he heard the tears in her voice as she said, "You're going to be the best father a child could ever hope for. You'll be the most loving dad ever, and this baby is going to love you so much." She sniffled a little.
"Fireheart, what is it?" Rowan asked, concern coating every inch of his words.
"Rowan," Aelin's voice barely got the words out. "What if – What if I'm not as ready as I think I am, what if I can't do this? What if I'm not a good mother? What if – "
"Aelin," Rowan said softly and reached down to wipe away her tears. "You are going to be fine. You're going to be amazing. I've seen you with Evangeline, I've seen you with the children of your kingdom and I am truly honoured that you are going to be the mother of my child. Our child."
Aelin buried her face in Rowan's neck, making it wet with her tears, but he just held her as she said, "I'm scared, Rowan."
"I know," he said. "I'm scared too. But you've always been so brave, and I know you're going to be brave again now. We'll be okay, we always are in the end."
She sniffled some more, trying to stop the tears before she said, "You're going to have to deal with a lot of mood swings, and random bouts of vomiting, and probably my constant complaining about everything and seriously I'm going to inflate. I hope you're prepared to hate me for nine months."
He didn't dignify that with a response. The thought alone that he could ever hate her was absurd.
Rowan looked back towards where their hands rested and she followed his gaze.
"You need to see a healer first thing tomorrow morning, and we should probably think about at least telling our friends."
"I kind of like it like this," Aelin answered. "Just you and me and this little ray of sunshine who probably isn't even as big as my thumbnail yet." She was smiling the smile of a person whose world now gravitated entirely around the child they would give their entire heart and soul to, and more. It was a smile of pure, unconditional love.
"Well then," Rowan said. "Maybe we don't need to tell them straight away, but they're going to start worrying as to why this flu hasn't gone away yet."
"I know, I know," Aelin grumbled. "I won't put it off forever, I just want to get used to the idea myself, before everyone else starts making a fuss about it."
"Okay," Rowan said, brushing his lips against her temple. "We'll do it at you're own pace."
They said nothing for a while, but then Rowan gently – oh so gently – started tracing his thumb, and then his entire hand, in slow circles on Aelin's belly. They both basked in the tranquility and utter peace of the moment.
"What would you want to name the child?" Rowan then asked.
"We don't even know if it's a boy or a girl yet," Aelin said. "Why are you already thinking of baby names?"
"Because I already know what I would want to call her, if it is indeed a her." Rowan replied.
"Well I'll make you a deal then, Prince," Aelin smirked up at him. "If it's a girl, you get to pick the name, but if it's a boy, I get to pick the name."
"You have yourself a deal, Princess," Rowan grinned back. His hands slid round to cradle her hips and her own reached up to hold the sides of his face, as they leaned into each other yet again.
Rowan untangled himself too soon – for his taste and her own – but they needed to get some actual, proper rest. So he pulled away and set about changing his clothes, then blew out every candle in their room and finally climbed back into their warm bed. Despite it being the end of summer, a slight autumn chill was already present in the air. So they held each other close, not giving the cold a chance to enter the space between them where it was just them. In this small private bubble, in the dimness of their room, they were a man and a woman about to start a family, and they didn't need to be anything else.
Rowan smoothed his hand lightly down Aelin's hair and back, as his other arm held her firmly tucked into his side. Aelin's head again rested comfortably in the crook of Rowan's shoulder, her hand splayed on top of his warm chest.
"I am yours and you are mine," Aelin whispered softly into the stillness of their room.
Rowan smiled down at the most precious thing in this world to him. His beacon of hope in the dark.
"And I love you," he said. "To whatever end."
A/N: Hey again! So I hoped you liked it, if you did please let me know, because I'm thinking of continuing this. For now I'm going to call it a one-shot, but I have a few ideas for moments throughout Aelin's pregnancy, and later on of Rowaelin being parents, etc. So if you want to see more of the gang being very domestic, give me a shout and tell me what you think! Should I keep it as a one-shot? Would you like this story to be continued? Everyone's opinion will be taken into account.
And as always, constructive criticism is duly noted and appreciated!
Thanks again for reading!